1. The facts are in, and the CBE (Christian Book Expo) lost $250,000, according to sources. As I've said here before, I loved the idea, but it didn't work, and that type of loss means the organization won't be doing it again. Dang. (It should also be noted that the leadership is approaching member publishers and asking them for donations to meet the deficit. One word: Yikes. It's a brutal time in publishing to be asking publishers to donate money for something that was such a bust.) I'm sorry this failed. [Correction: Mike Hyatt, the Prez at Thomas Nelson, wrote to say that ECPA announced they won't do the Book Expo next year. Once they clear out the debt, they're going to explore options, maybe partner with somebody else. You can read his note in the "comments" section.]

Marcus wrote to ask, "What are the opportunities in the CBA market right now?"

I'm in limbo, staying with a friend until the moving truck arrives with our stuff. So I figured it was the perfect time to reach into my grab-bag of questions writers have sent in and respond to a handful that have been sitting and waiting for me…

John wrote to say, "I met with an agent at a conference, he got excited about my book idea, and he asked me to send him a proposal. But that's been months and I've yet to hear a word from him. How long should I wait before sending a brief note asking about the status? Six months? A year?"

If an agent has actually asked you to send him something, I think it's fair to drop him a short, polite email after three months. Just something quick that says, "I wanted to stop by  and see what you thought of my writing." Don't make any big demands, just drop by to say hello. If you haven't heard a month or two after sending that note, it wouldn't be unreasonable to send another, just to check on the progress. Some things take time. Patti and I have been going through a move, and I've recently had to apologize to some authors for not getting to their projects sooner. But if the agent has had it a year, and you've not heard, the most likely scenario is that the agent either didn't receive it or isn't terribly interested in it. This is a time-sensitive business, and we all move forward on the projects that excite us.

Tim asked, "I know bookstores are reporting drops in sales due to the bad economy, but is that true for both fiction and nonfiction? I've read that movie ticket sales are actually up, since movies are relatively cheap entertainment, and I'm wondering if fiction sales might also be improving."

According to Nielsen's Bookscan, romance sales in 2008 were up 18% over the previous year, and even in this bad economy romance was up 2.4% in the first quarter of 2009.  There's evidence to suggest that genre romance, historical romance, fantasy, and some young adult fantasy are all looking up, even in this crummy economy. People in hard times are looking for an escape — especially one where things turn out for good in the end.

Scott wrote to say, "I have a manuscript that's more of a manual than a book. It has templates with references, and is aimed at the religious market. Where do I look for publishing companies that might consider this sort of project?"

A good place to start doing any sort of research is a big bookstore. Wander into a Borders and a Barnes & Noble. Check to see which publishers already do the type of book you're writing — since they already publish in that genre, they'll be your most likely candidates. Since this is a religous book, you can also try visiting a good Christian bookstore, and you can do some research online at places like Amazon. Once you figure out which houses produce and sell projects similar to yours, you'll be better prepared to know who you can approach with your own manuscript.

Abby asked, "In your view, does a novelist stick with the one big idea that's in her head, or look for an idea that a publisher might get excited about? I've got what I think is a great idea, but my writing friends are suggesting I research what the publishers want instead of working on my own story."

There's not really a correct answer to this question. If you think you've got a great story, and you feel you have to tell it, then you probably need to follow your heart and spend the time writing it. But, of course, you could be wrong about it's potential for success, so you may want to spend some time researching to see if there will be any interest in your manuscript when it's completed. (For example, you could write a fabulous western right now, but it probably wouldn't sell — the westerns market is dead.)

On the other hand, I generally think it's a mistake to blindly chase the market (i.e., "Fantasies are hot! Amish books are hot! Vampire books are hot! Let's do an Amish romance set in the future, where Sarah and her kinsman-redeemer are chased by vampires!"). The problem with this sort of thinking is that by the time you can spot popular trends in bookselling, the publishers have already lined up the needed titles. So while I think some research is important to make sure there is actually a potential market for your book, simply selecting a genre because it appears hot rarely leads to success.

Sandi asked, "Does a reputable publishing house release free copies of a published book to the authors? If so, how many copies should an author expect?"

Yes, your publisher will offer you some free copies. The standard contract will offer you about ten, so you've got a few for your bookshelf. An author can frequently get more if they propose to use them for marketing purposes (which is to say the author is going to give them to influential people, or as giveaways on their website, or to people in the media). Asking for a case of books is generally reasonable, and a good agent can often negotiate more. What publishers don't like is the author who insists on getting 200 free copies, then proceeds to try and sell them all at her speaking engagements. That doesn't help the sale of the book at all, and winds up competing with local bookstores. Learn to view author copies as marketing tools, to be given to those who can help you drive other people to a bookstore in order to purchase your book.

Lonnie wrote and said, "I've heard an author needs to acquire their own copyright for their books. How does she do this? And do publishers usually agree to this, even if you're a new author?"

There's an old fallacy that an author needs to print a copy of his book, seal it in an envelope, and mail it to himself in order to preserve his copyright. But we in America have the best intellectual property rights laws in the history of the world — if you wrote it, then it belongs to you. A copyright is implied in your creation. The only reason to seek a copyright is if you are going to produce and sell printed copies — and any legitimate publisher is going to arrange to have your work copyrighted, in the author's name, and have that information printed in the frontmatter of your book. (And I should note that I'm not a lawyer, so I am not giving you legal advice. If you are seeking a legal opinion, you should ask an intellectual property rights lawyer to answer your questions.)

Janice sent this: "I've been publishing nonfiction magazine articles for years, and am working on a book proposal that one editor told me had great potential. Is it a good idea to start focusing my article writing around this one concept? And can an agent help me figure out what steps to take next?"

My response to you is to say, "Only focus all your article-writing around this one concept if (1) there is clearly a market for the idea, (2) the concept is big enough to require several different kinds of articles, and (3) you feel passionate enough and knowledgeable enough to want to focus your writing life on it." Since I don't know your idea, I can't offer any advice as to whether or not it's big enough/important enough/interesting enough to make that sort of decision. But yes, a good literary agent should be able to help you think this through.

Valerie wrote, "I'm nearly done with the second book of a trilogy, but still don't have a publisher for the first book. My question for you: If I get a deal for the first book, what will happen to the sequels?"

While negotiating with the publisher, you (or your agent) needs to bring up the fact that the initial book is the first part of a trilogy. The publisher may make the deal based on publishing all three titles. Or the contract may stipulate that it's a one-book deal, but the publisher has an option on books two and three. Sometimes a book contract will grant the publisher first right of refusal on any additional books that maintain the same characters or have the same setting. And, frankly, it's especially tough to sell the second and third books in a series to a publisher other than the one who did the first book in the series. So be up front with them about the entire trilogy.

After my previous post, Lea asked if agents actively look for information from publishers, in order to stay on top of what the various houses are seeking. The context for her question was that she has researched an agent to discover what he represents, but then receives a rejection stating the project "does not fit what we're seeking."

Here's the thing to understand: Most agents have a standard rejection wording. They don't want to write back and say, "Yikes! This idea is terrible, and the writing sucks. No thanks." So they gentle it up a bit and say something like, "I don't think this is for me." Don't get me wrong — I'm not saying that everyone who receives a "not for me" rejection has a terrible idea or can't write. I just think authors should know that getting a letter stating that a project "isn't a fit" might simply be receiving a form letter. But to answer your question, yes, most good agents are definitely checking to see what various houses are looking for.

And one more…Tiffany Colter, who runs the Command Performance Speakers Bureau, speaks French fluently. She noticed that a recent post of mine was mentioned on a French writers' site, and noted that the name "Chip" didn't exactly translate well. They referred to me as "Morsel MacGregor" — literally as le sur le morceau MacGregor. I just think it should be noted that someone in France sees me as a yummy dish. (And faithful blog readers will remember that my name in Chinese was translated as "Chip-Chip," which is some sort of candy, apparently. Better that than the Native American guy who said his only known reference to "chips" had something to do with "buffalo chips.")

Patti and I are back on the west coast, after having spent a little more than a year in the midwest, where I was teaching a couple classes as sort of a visiting professor in the Professional Writing Program at Taylor University. SO NICE to be close to the Pacific Ocean again! And I'm trying to catch up on writing and publishing questions. If you've got something to ask, this is a good time to send it in.

I've got a backlog of questions to work through, so let's jump right in…

Bethany wrote to ask, "Since publishers are struggling in this bad economy, is it better to submit a completed manuscript with your proposal, rather than a proposal, outline, and sample chapter?"

In my opinion, it is always better to tell the publisher your manuscript is complete. That reveals to the publisher that you're serious about this business, and it means they have less risk — they don't have to wonder if you're going to hit your deadline, or if you're up to the task of completing the book. Of course, I don't particularly like the fact that you could spend months crafting a manuscript that won't sell, and it may not be fair to you as the author… but there's no question that having a manuscript completed makes it easier to sell. (And, of course, if you're writing a novel, you pretty much HAVE to have your manuscript complete.)

Deonne asked, "What with these hard economic times, and publishers cutting the number of titles they are doing, wouldn't it make sense that an author seriously consider self-publishing?"

The short answer: It only makes sense to self-publish if you know how to sell the book. So, yeah, you can go ahead and self-pub your title. It will cost you a lot of money to get it edited, jacketed, designed, printed, and shipped. Then you've got to warehouse the copies somewhere and THEN you've got to spend money to market and sell it. But if you have the money, and you know how to reach your readership, then you might find this pays off. (In fact, for people who know how to market and sell their books, they find they make much more money than those who sell books through a regular royalty-paying publishing house.) Still, most people who self-pub lose money because once the book is printed, they don't actually know how to market and sell it. So that's the litmus test. I've found the people who do best with self-pubbing are the speaker types who have a speciality niche. They print their books, go around and speak at conferences, then sell them in the back of the room. Or they are well known in their field, and know how to market the books through magazines and websites. But aside from those scenarios, I think an author will find it very hard to sell enough copies of their book to make it financially viable. This is especially true for novelists — I'd be willing to bet more than 90% of self-pubbed novelists lose money. (And yes, the author of The Shack is the exception to the rule. He self-published his novel and made money. But that's a fascinating story because he succeeded when most people fail, and he spent money on advertising through e-zines.)

Jeanette wrote this: "An author friend spoke with an editor at a writers' conference. The editor asked my friend to send in her manuscript. She seems to think that it's now a done deal — that she's about to get a contract. I've tried to tell her that's not true. What do you think?"

I think your friend needs to sit down and take her reality tablets. Editors ask for proposals at conferences because (1) they don't have time to actually read stuff in the fifteen minute appointments authors are given, (2) they are fatigued and it's easier to say "no thanks" later in an email than to say it face-to-face, or (3) they are weenies. (And there is #4 option: that the author misunderstood. I regularly have authors tell me things like "the editor at Random House insisted I send this to her," when in fact the editor from Random House had said something like, "I don't know, and I'm racing off to teach my workshop, but it you want to send it, go ahead.") So no, having an editor ask to have a proposal sent them is NOT a sure sign that a contract is coming. Even if the editor says something cool like, "I think this has merit — why don't you send it to me and I'll take a closer look," that doesn't mean she is going to like it enough to make an offer, or that the rest of the pub team is going to endorse the idea. Don't get me wrong — I think having an editor ask you to send your proposal is better than having an editor tell you to drop dead or go away or consider giving up writing for a career in dry cleaning (ESAD, as we used to say in the business). But no, it's not tantamount to receiving a contract offer.

Beverly asked, "Do agents write the proposal for an author, or does the author write it and the agent tweaks it and sends it?"

You're the author. You're the expert. It's going to be your book. So YOU write the proposal. Sure, you can expect me to tweak it, and make it fit a house's preferences, and sprinkle my fairy dust on it so that it really stands out. But the author is the one who does the hard work of creating the proposal. If you need a good resource to help you with that, take a look at Terry Whalin's Book Proposals that Sell, a really well done handbook for writers. You can also see some sample book proposals on my business website.

Stan said this: "I've had a couple agents turn down my proposal, but offer to help me rewrite it (or introduce me to their editor who will rewrite it) for a fee. Should I take them up on their offer?"

No, you should get up and walk away. Then you should turn them in to Writer Beware and Predators and Editors. As I noted in my previous post, any agent who tries to cross-sell you his editorial services is in violation of the agent's Code of Conduct. They aren't trying to help you sell your book and make money, they are simply trying to make money off of you. No legitimate agent does this. Stay away.

Darice wrote to say, "A friend of mine posted chapters of her novel on her blog. Do you think that will hurt her chances of landing a deal with a publisher?"

 I doubt it will hurt her chances, Darice. There's some evidence that giving away chapters to increase your readership will actually help you. And while there are still some houses that frown on this sort of thing (they're afraid readers will feel as though the book is already out there on the web), for the most part I'd say your friend won't hurt her chances too much if she posts a couple chapters, garners some attention, and can say to a publisher, "Hey — I've already had 25,000 people stop by and read the first two chapters of my novel!"

Daniel asked, "What do you know about www.christianmanuscriptsubmissions.com?"

That's the big electronic slushpile put together by ECPA publishers to help writers get their manuscripts in front of editors. You pay $99 and submit an overview, table of contents, and sample chapter. It goes into a database that editors at religious publishing houses can peruse. On the one hand, you could argue that it's one of those "by any means necessary" tactics for authors. On the other hand, it could be $99 wasted, since most editors already have plenty of submissions flowing onto their desks from agents. I'm afraid of looking like I'm defending agents by bashing the competition, and I really want to be fair here, so let me just say I see VERY few deals coming out of this service. Editors have plenty of submission to look at, so asking them to spend a few hours wandering around a huge electronic slushpile — well, it just doesn't seem terribly effective. One man's opinion.

Jocelyn sent me this: "I'm not sure if you're familiar with bookendslitagency.blogspot.com, but they just opened up their blog to allow writers to say everything that drives them crazy about agents. (This came after they opened it up for agents to complain about what drives them crazy about proposals.) Have you checked out what authors had to say?"

The folks at Bookends Literary have a wonderful blog for authors, and they sometimes have something fun like this. I was a bit disappointed in the reactions of writers, to tell you the truth. There was a ton of negativity, and it reflected a bit on the fact that some writers seem to think an agent is obligated to respond to them. As an agent, I try to be polite to people, and to respond to serious queries. But… look, I get some really stupid stuff sent to me. I put on my business website (www.MacGregorLiterary.com) that I generally represent established authors, yet I'm regularly beseiged with unpublished wannabes who haven't even given a cursory glance to my site. I don't represent pornographic novels, or children's books, or science fiction stuff, and I say that clearly on my site, yet every month I can count on somebody sending me a proposal that is a pornographic children's sci-fi novel. (Okay, not really, but you get the idea.) Where is it written that I need to give these people my time and energy?

I've had some people write in to say that I'm not being fair, that I shouldn't reveal bad proposal ideas sent me, since it makes it look like I'm picking on certain ones. Um… I am. I don't poke fun at the legitimate projects I am sent to review — not even if I reject them. But the fact is, if somebody sends me something unsolicited that is truly awful, I don't owe them anything. If somebody can barely write, or blindly sends in a project that is outrageously bad, or has spent no time figuring out how to do a good proposal, that means they aren't really serious about this business. They haven't gone to a conference, or read books, or researched this stuff on the internet, or even read this (and many other good) blogs. Frankly, it's hard for me to treat that sort of person as a professional. I wouldn't show up at an investment guy's office and say, "You need to listen to me, because I had a brainstorm — I insist you invest all your money into Enron stocks!" I'd be tossed out of the building. So why am I expected to take everybody who sends in a crappy idea seriously?

If you haven't read this before, I like to use a bakery analogy. If I ran a bakery, I might occasionally bring you into the back room, show you how things work, and give you a tour of the bakery. I'd answer your questions. If you were obviously knowledgable about my industry, I'd be happy to talk about the business. And who knows — I might even invite you to work with me in some capacity. But my full-time job is running a bakery, not giving bakery tours, or listening to all the crazy recipe ideas people have ("Have you considered salmon-flavored muffins?"). So at some point I just say, "Enough. I've got a business to run. I don't owe every person who wants to know about bakeries an interview."

Understand me — I don't revel in being rude, and as much as possible, I try to be respectful of peole who are trying to learn this craft and grow and maybe get something published. But there's a feeling of entitlement that comes across in the responses on that Bookends blog that rubs me the wrong way. It seems to assume that an agent OWES an author a response; that an agent MUST reply to every query sent them. Sorry, but I don't agree with that thinking at all. I won't show up at your job and tell you how to do it, and insist you give me a bunch of your time — so I just expect the same courtesy, I guess.

Please feel free to comment on this topic. I'm actually looking forward to seeing how people respond. And if you've got a publishing, question, feel free to send it in. I'll do my best to answer it.

Some good news in the world of books: Borders is staying in business. They have a new CEO, they've reduced their debt by 40% in the past year, and they've reorganized their financing. I've said it before — Borders is a good company, and writers need them to stay in business. I love Barnes & Noble, but competition is always a good thing in a free market economy.

And some bad news: Walden Books is going to take it on the chin. In that same meeting where they talked about the future of Borders, it was reported that subsidiary Walden has 240 store leases coming due soon, and the company boss says they're going to shrink the number of stores from more than 300 to about 50 or 60. That's a lot of smaller bookstores going down the tubes.

Some more good news: Books sales don't suck as bad as we thought. Overall books sales at B&N were down 3% in 2008, and at Borders roughly 6%. But sales at Amazon (which includes music and DVD sales, so it's not a true representation of "book" sales) are up 16%. When you throw in the sales at indie stores, numbers from CBA, and all the books moved at big box stores like Wal-Mart and Costco, overall book sales were flat. And flat is the new growth! (The big growth category? E–books amounted to only three-quarters of one percent of all book sales, but that represents a four-fold growth. In a flat market, you notice little gains like that.) When you compare the terrible sales numbers of cars, appliances, and most retail items, books are doing okay.   

Some more bad news: Random House wants to pay advances a year after a book releases. I swear I'm not making this up. The discussion is to pay 1/4 upon signing, 1/4 upon delivery, 1/4 upon publication, and 1/4 a year after the book releases. You have GOT to be kidding me. I understand the notion of spreading out the risk on a book, but a year after it releases? How is that an "advance"? Seems like it's more of a "delay."

Some other good news: The Author's Guild settled their suit with Google. Um… I guess that's good news. It means Google can digitalize your book without permission, and you can apply for a cash claim if Google digitalized your book in the past. It certainly seems to offer a solution to the arguments made about Google's power-grab for rights. But…

Some other bad news: Nobody seems to know if this settlement really is a good thing or not. I'm an author, not just an agent, and I don't see the Guild speaking for me. It's been argued that the settlement is too unwieldy, pays peanuts, and expects everyone to hand over their permissions rights. Um… we already have a great system for settling publishing rights in this country – it's called a contract negotiation. I'm not sure I see how this is better.  

Even more good news: We're still doing business. I mention that because I keep hearing negative stories from people about the book business. Sure, publishers have cut staff. They've trimmed their lists. Things are moving more slowly and advances are generally down. But people are still buying books, I'm still getting offers, and we're still moving forward with things. Have faith. The publishing business is leaner, but we're still here, and still selling books in the best market in the history of the world.

Even more bad news: There are some really schlocky agents out there. There are some bigger agents who have started some very shady practices, like charging a reading fee and turning newbie authors over to in-house fee-for-service editors. Let me share a line from the good folks at the "Predators and Editors" website: "Reputable agents don't charge you a fee up front to represent your book." The well-respected Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America says this: "Any charge made to the author that is payable prior to the sale of the manuscript to a publisher, however characterized by the agent, is a 'fee' and represents inappropriate conduct not in the author's best interest." Under the heading "Dishonest Agents," the folks at Writer Beware encourage writers to stay away from agents "requiring a reading fee with a submission." And the Canon of Ethics for Literary Agents, stated by the Association of Author Representatives on their website, clearly states: "The practice of literary agents charging clients or potential clients for reading and evaluating literary works (including outlines, proposals, and partial or complete manuscripts) is subject to serious abuse that reflects adversely on our profession. For that reason, members may not charge clients or potential clients for reading and evaluating literary works and may not benefit, directly or indirectly, from the charging for such services by any person or entity. The term 'charge' in the previous sentence includes any request for payment other than to cover the actual cost of returning materials."

Just wanted you to know. So when that agent wants to charge you a fee to read your proposal, or declines to represent you but wants to introduce you to his fee-based editorial service as a way of fixing up your manuscript, tell him to drop dead.

This is from the Dark File: You'll be happy to know that the Messiah sent me his manuscript this week. No kidding. I know he's the Messiah because he told me so. Honest. He began by encouraging me to open my mind, and explained that if I read his manuscript, "the world will not look the same to me." So I read them. But I must not be a true believer, since I'm in Indiana today and it still looks flat and boring. He also noted that the three big arguments in the world today are gay/straight, pro-life/pro-choice, and evolution/design… and here I was thinking the big arguments were Ginger/MaryAnn and maybe Ducks/Beavers (for those who live in Oregon). Silly me.

And this from the Stoopid File: I'm looking for an agent to represent my first book, so I think I'll email every agent in North America… and stick all their emails into the "to" line. Does it not occur to a wannabe author to spend five minutes researching the industry before sending out a message that basically declares "I'm really stupid"? I mean, if I were going to start a career as a ballroom dancer, I'd do a bit of research to try and figure out how the business works, who I should talk to, and how I approach them. What I wouldn't do is send out a notice to every choreographer on the planet, announcing that I'm now available to be a star. And doesn't it ever occur to Ms Stoopid that an agent probably doesn't appreciate seeing that he's just one name on a long list of people the email has been sent to? (Um…apparently not.) I used to just delete this sort of crap. Now I send them a note, encouraging them to spend enough time actually checking out the industry so as not to turn everyone off. End of rant.

It's back to publishing questions — if you've got a questions about books or the book business, let me hear it.