Sandra Blogs …

Back in the dark ages when Led Zeppelin was still my favorite band (but as a new Christian I believed it wasn't okay to admit it) and decided I wanted to make a living writing for print magazines, I started with a big idea and worked hard to tailor a specific pitch for each editor I hoped to meet at my first conference that summer.

I left the conference with several nods of possible interest and a lot of encouragement to keep writing … but only one solid request for my article. It was from an editor who was looking to create a spin-off their current publication into a new magazine and needed a strong feature piece for their premier issue. This was not at all what I had planned, but I was thrilled that she liked my writing and offered to give me a chance so I went for it.

Before I sat down to begin working on the piece, I typed the editor a letter (dark ages, remember… no computer) thanking her for the opportunity and promising I'd deliver.  Along with my letter I included a rough outline of the article and a brief description of who I perceived their audience to be. And I asked her to call or write me if she saw something I'd missed or that she didn't think I needed to include.

She called me a few days later to say I was on track and that she was looking forward to receiving my article, and she reminded me she was looking at it on speculation.

I thanked her again, and worked as hard as I could to make sure I wrote the strongest, tightest, most interesting, and perfectly punctuated & formatted article I knew how to write.

And I immediately enrolled in a community college writing class so I could have access to a computer and the writing center (I knew nothing yet of critique groups) and also so I could meet with the attending English teacher to get his input as my article progressed.

He made several recommendations. I thanked him, applied most of his ideas, then asked him to take one last look.

A few days later, when I was satisfied that I'd done the best possible job I could do, I dropped my article and accompanying requested floppy disk in the mail and started researching topics right away for my next article.

A couple weeks later I came home from work and my roommate told me that some editor had left a message on our recorder.

"She said something about it being really good and exactly what she'd been hoping for," she told me.

I'll never forget the look on her face when she asked, "does this mean you're gonna be rich?"

I was ecstatic, of course. And not because of the "gonna be rich" part (I was too ignorant yet to know how far this was from the truth) but because of the "really good" and "exactly what we're looking for" parts.

My hard work had paid off.

I really hate to admit that was over twenty years ago, but it was. I made lots of mistakes and missed a few opportunities here and there while I built my career as a freelance writer. But, I often look back on this first assignment and marvel at all the things I did right without yet knowing what I was doing. I could easily chalk it up the strong work ethic and discipline that had been ingrained in me by the not-yet-too-removed influence of the Marine Corps. But, honestly, I think it was just  a lucky combination of common sense and enthusiasm that helped me land the assignment.

Here's what I did then and what I still recommend people do when they want to freelance – with or without the aid of floppy discs:

Figure out what you want to write about – preferably a topic that is personally interesting and timely
Find someone whose needs match that interest
Form a specific pitch which is certain to meet the needs of their readers
Invest in getting in front of the people you need to meet
Keep their needs in mind
Follow up
Be open to feedback
Do your best work
Ask for feedback from QUALIFIED sources
Receive their input and apply that which you agree with
Edit, edit, and edit again
Know when to stop asking for opinions
Pay attention to the details (punctuation, formatting, delivery preferences)
Deliver as promised
Hope for the best, but prepare for rejection
Say thank you

And then it starts all over again.

Figure out what you want to write about …

Floppy discs (or was it disks?) or not, the process of writing articles for pay — whether for magazines, trade publications, books, newspapers, websites, or whatever is still very much as it always was.

The sources and delivery methods have changed and will continue to do so, but the process pretty much remains the same.

Hey, that reminds me of a song…

I was at a conference recently where they asked people in the industry to talk about trends they're seeing in publishing. Specifically, they wanted to know what changes we should expect to see in the next five years. My list…

1. You will own an electronic reader. It may be a Kindle (the Amazon.com tool that works on cell phone service, so that books show up on your clipboard-like device like a text message), or the Sony Reader (a better device to use, in my opinion, since it feels more like a book and you can easily download your own files without sending them off or paying Amazon to do it), or some cheap $99 knock-off device that we'll start seeing in the next year. But you WILL own one. Why? No more forty-pound sack of books to carry around. A thousand books on one device. If you get bored with one, you can skip to another. No losing a book ever again, since the companies who sold you the title will replace it for free. You remember when you thought you could get by without a cell phone, iPod, DVD player, Blackberry, GPS, and laptop? Well, you now own most of those. You'll soon recognize the value of an electronic reader and you'll buy one.

2. The web will replace your book show and your book catalog. The big book shows are dying — too expensive and not enough return to keep going. They'll be replaced with smarter, more cost-effective company events or web-based specialty events. And publishers will soon buy into the green movement by doing away with printed book catalogs and going to web-based catalogs that are always accessible and easy to correct and update.

3. Publishers will soon scrap their print-based semi-annual royalty statements to authors and agents, and will replace them with electronic statements. This makes too much sense. It could be done today, frankly, if publishers wanted to spend the time to make the change. The only thing keeping your publishing house from moving to an email version of your royalty statement is that it doesn't want to be bothered changing the system in light of all the other financial struggles it is facing. But within five years, they'll all have gone to electronic royalty statements.

4. The concept of convergence will jump from newspapers and magazines to books. We live in an image-driven culture, so it's only natural that the convergence of words and images will come to the world of books. On an electronic book screen, we can expect interactive features, downloadable extras, video clips, author interviews, and all sorts of other images to enhance the text. (Think of the newspapers they sell in the Harry Potter movies, with moving images and dynamic graphics – that's exactly the type of book we'll see in the near future.)

5. A new role will be established within publishing houses. All those images and special features will mean a new role must be established to create and manage the convergence of words and images. We can expect "creative content editors" to become a regular part of every editorial staff. These indviduals will have experience with words as well as images and the interactive aspects marketing.

6. The new products will mean new companies. It may sound crazy in this lousy economic time to predict a spate of new companies being formed… but I think the new technology will make it imperative. One thing that has always been clear is that new breakthroughs in technology (and I believe the electronic reader is a wonderful breakthrough) means new companies to create cutting-edge applications. I think we'll see new companies rise up to compete with the big New York houses when it comes to e-books.

7. A writing superstar will self-publish a book (and make a killing). Again, I think this is inevitable. There is too much money at stake for a celebrity writer to leave it on the table by remaining with a regular royalty-paying publisher. I believe one of the big writers of our era will decide to self-publish, either digitally or in a print-on-demand format, and he or she will sell a boatload of books. (For those not in the know, you can make MORE money at self-publishing, if you have the ability to sell your book. The reason most self-pubbed authors lose money is because they don't know how to sell their book.)

8. Our culture's fascination with short messages on Facebook and Twitter will mean a renewed interest in short stories. Okay, this may not happen… but I can dream. Short stories are my favorite form of literature, and they are almost impossible to sell in book form these days. But perhaps the next generations' interest in all things short will mean a renewed interest in short stories.

9. The next big fight for will be over electronic rights. We're already seeing that with the Google lawsuit, and the fight over Amazon's plan to have all Kindle books include an audio function. Doesn't an author lose a sale if audio rights are wrapped up in a print book? If a magazine publishes your article, rights revert back to you when the copy comes off store shelves — but if an e-zine keeps your article in its files forever, when do those rights return? If a book publisher keeps a digital version of your book available, will that constitute the book being "in print"? (For the record, I think this will be resolved by using a combination of term agreements and sales thresholds — i.e., your book will be considered 'in print' so long as the publisher sells 500 digital copies per calendar year.)

10. Publishers and authors will learn to balance the public's desire for content with its demand for all things free. Right now it's easy to get yourself in print — any moron can start a blog. The hard part is getting paid for your writing. Consumers seem to think that anything coming over the internet should be free. This attitude is helping to kill newspapers, who have moved to the web but found it impossible to make money while doing so. Book publishers are finding this same attitude, and it has the potential to damage book sales (just as Napster and its evil children ruined the music business). But they'll work it out, and find a way to provide content that is free while still selling the words that provides a living for writers. I don't know what that solution will be yet, but I know it will come because necessity will require it. We're a culture that needs (and values) its writers, so we'll find a way to help them make a living.

My thoughts on five years from now. Check back in 2014 and tell me if I was right.

I have a confession to make. I'm a Facebook Failure. A Twitter Twit. And an out of place MySpacer.

I've had multiple conversations with editors and other agents who claim to love the socializing and staying in touch value of these social networks. And I realize there is some potential for developing business relationships and marketing opportunities. Personally, though, I've yet to commit.

I tried a few weeks ago to get on board. I really did. I set myself up on Facebook, including loading it up on my BlackBerry so I could be sure and let everyone know when I was heading off to the ladies room (ahem, in case you missed it, this is Sandra writing, not Chip), running to the post office, or taking a break to sneak up to the neighborhood coffee shop or walk the dog. I knew such information would keep folks absolutely riveted.

At first it seemed like a fun tool. An experiment. I like people, and I enjoy making new friends, so I jumped in, deciding it couldn't hurt to work on my water cooler skills. 

But then, without provocation on my part I started receiving notes from
people I didn't know who wanted to "connect" with me and I realized
that my to do list and communication expectations had grown
exponentially. I know there's an underlying expectation that one doesn't have to accept all invitations, but I have to admit, I panicked. Seriously.  I couldn't keep up with the requests, and hated, no, LOATHED, clicking decline.

So, I began avoiding it altogether.

And then recently I began wondering if people would think I'm some sort of snob or social misfit or something. And I began to wonder if it's strange that I prefer to "connect" with people face to face? That I'd rather save my words for meaningful exchanges? That maybe I live in my own head way, way, way too much? That I'm too focused on my to do list and not focused enough on daily chats with others? That I'm missing out on some grand opportunities to prime meaningful relationships? And that my career (and therefore that of my authors) would suffer if I don't get on the Social Network Train?

And then I panicked all over again.

It's not like me, really. I'm typically pretty poised and confident. Not too concerned about the whole rejection thing (good trait for an agent, eh?) and I don't worry too much what people think of me. But, the pressure of accepting or declining "friendships" on a daily basis has had me a little freaked out. Also, I know there is valuable info passed around on a daily basis that I miss out on here. 

Still, today I decided it's just not for me. I'm not whining about too much to do and not enough time to connect. It's just not my style. Go ahead. Call me old fashioned. A social misfit. A bookworm. Whatever you must. Please though, don't consider me a snob — that's really not it.

In the end, for me, I've just decided if it's important I'll hear about it. And if I'm meant to connect with people, I will.

Sorry to disappoint everyone who has urged me to join the party. As yet, I'm just not convinced it's where I belong.

I've been going over the questions people have sent me recently, and several have asked about writing conferences…

1. Dylan asked, "Are you a fan of writers' conferences?"

I'm a huge fan. I think writing conferences are a great place to network with other writers, learn about the craft, and meet people in the industry.

2. Sarah wants to know, "Is a writing conferernce worth the cost? What should I get out of it?"

The value of a conference depends on your expectations. If you're going to meet people in the industry and get connected, you'll probably find it worthwhile. But if you're going with the thought that "an agent will have a ten-minute conversation and want to sign me" or "an editor will take one look at my proposal and offer me a contract," you're probably going to be disappointed. I suggest an author sit down and look at the list of faculty and the list of workshops being offered. If you need craft help, go to a conference with really strong craft seminars. If you are most in need of talking with agents, look for one with a long lineup of literary agents. With travel, meals, hotel, and the registration fee, you could be spending more than a thousand bucks on a big conference — that's a lot of money, especially if you're a writer who isn't making a thousand dollars a year via writing. So you've got to think about what your expectations are and how well the conference meets them. A little research can go a long way.

3. Veronica wrote this: "I'm planning to attend a conference in September, and they offer appointments with agents and editors. I'm not really ready for an agent — should I sign up to meet some anyway?"

That depends on what your goals are. Sometimes you'll sign up with an editor just to let them see your work and get their perspective on it. If you're looking for direction in your writing, make that clear at the outset, so that you can get the most out of your fifteen minutes. You might sign up to talk with an agent about the industry — again, give them some sense of your expectation in the meeting. But be aware — sometimes an editor or agent will have limited times available, and we hate it when somebody is clearly wasting our time. I'll offer two examples… I don't represent children's books, poetry, or sci-fi novels. Ten minutes of research would reveal that to a prospective author. Yet I regularly have morons pitch me their sci-fi children's poetry crap during agent appointments. As though they expect I'm suddenly going to see the light, grasp their proposal, and shout, "Hallelujah! Poetry I love!" Geez. That's what you call "getting off on the wrong foot." A couple years ago, at a conference I did as a favor to the director, I could only be there for an afternoon. They made a big point of stating "Chip is here just for a couple hours, and we'd appreciate it if you would leave those appointment times for experienced writers." So who was my first appointment? A woman with her fourteen-year-old daughter, who began by saying, "I don't really have anything to talk with you about, I just wanted my teenage daughter to meet you." (And I was polite. I figure seriously stupid people require calmness in order to keep from getting violent.)

 4. Danny asked, "What do you say at a meeting with an agent?"

That depends on you and the agent. If you were meeting with an agent who was a longtime editor like Janet Grant, you might ask about the salability of your work, or talk about your craft. If you're talking with an agent who is known for industry stuff, like Steve Laube, you might ask about how your idea fit with publishing houses. If you were meeting with me, you might ask career questions. In other words, do your homework. Be ready to talk about yourself and your book. Be clear about what you're hoping to get out of the meeting. Allow the agent to respond to your questions. Don't push too hard. Understand that agents are just people doing their jobs, so they may not have fabulous answers to every question you ask. If you're serious about writing, then you have to treat a conference as a business trip, not just a mini-vacation.

5. Sally said this: "I've met you at conferences before, and you never seem to take material with you. Why don't you take proposals?"

It gets worse, Sharon… I usually don't even take business cards. Why? Because I don't want to have to fill my suitcase with piles of dead trees. If I find your idea interesting, I might ask you to email it to me. But understand that I frequently say "no thanks" to ideas pitched to me at conferences. (I feel a need to say that, since I find some editors are total weenies and seem to tell everyone to "send it to me." That way they can just reject stuff with a faceless email.) Look, if I'm not crazy about the idea, or it's not a fit, or I don't think the person can write, I've got no reason to take their proposal. Or their card or bookmark, for that matter. I see hundreds of proposals each year, and I might take on a handful of clients. Do the math.

6. Mike wrote: "At last year's conference, I had a bunch of people ask to see my proposal… but no one made me an offer. Am I wasting my time at conferences?"

Not the way I look at it. I figure having people say "send it to me" is better than having them say "get lost."  So it didn't sell — at least it got looked at. Get some people to help you improve it, and show it to them again. (Or ditch the old idea and move on to something better.) Remember, for most people getting published is a process. You start out taking baby steps, and move toward learning how to write as an adult in the marketplace.

7. Sharon asked me, "Do you actually read the stuff you ask to see?"

Again, I don't ask to have something sent to me unless I actually find it salable and have some interest in the project. So yes, if I ask you to send it to me at a conference, I'll actually read it. (And, to be fair, all the legit agents I know treat writers this way.)

But this is a good place for me to interject one clarification: I will regularly have authors come up to me and say something like, "Dave Long from Bethany House INSISTED I send this to him" or "Shannon Marchese at Waterbook said I HAD to talk with you about this one!" The implication is always something like "you'd better get on board, MacGregor, because this train is heading out of the station." Invariably when I check out those comments, the truth is somewhat less compelling. Dave maybe said this one didn't suck as bad as the rest, and since he had to leave, he invited the author to send it to him later. Or Shannon was talking on her cel phone, and muttered something about the author needing an agent. Um… don't oversell me. Don't read messages into a comment. Just be truthful with me. One of my pet peeves is when an author will sort of threaten me — "Wendy Lawton at Books-n-Such LOVES this one!" My answer is always to roll my eyes. I mean, good for you. Wendy is a fine agent. If she loves it, then by all means sign on with her. But don't use that as a threat, thinking that your telling me is somehow going to motivate me to immediately sign you as a client. Wendy and I have different client lists, and who she chooses to represent usually doesn't impact me very much.

8. Elizabeth wants to know, "How do you feel about people writing you ahead of the conference, to set up appointments with you?"

Um… Okay, truth be told, I'm not crazy about it.  I figure I'm there, giving my time just to talk to authors (and anyone who has worked with me at a conference will tell you that I go out of my way to make time talking with authors). I have appontment times set up at every conference I go to, and I expect people to make appointments with me in those timeslots. Yeah, occasionally an author will not get a meeting with me, but I honestly try to make lots of times available, since I understand people have paid a thousand dollars to attend. Sometimes it won't work, and the two of us just won't be able to meet and talk. Um… that's life. But I make every effort to talk to people at meetings, at meals, in hallways, during down times. The only thing I ask is that people (1) keep it short, (2) keep it polite, and (3) not interrupt me when it's late at night and I'm clearly relaxing by drinking a glass of wine with friends.

This points to the weirdo factor, which happens at conferences. Sometimes Mr Strangeways will show up at a conference and act like a stalker. He'll insist on following me, or spend a half-hour regaling everyone at the table with his cool novel idea. (Remember the episode of Seinfeld where every time Jerry turned around, there was this guy standing right behind him?) It's joked about in the industry, but I really did once have a guy slide his proposal in front of my face while I was standing at the urnial. (No, I'm not joking. It was at a conference at Seattle Pacific University a few years ago, and I actually shouted at the guy. Had I been thinking, I'd have turned toward him and told him how excited I was.) You're not ever going to get an agent if you come across as Dr Weirdness and the Children of Doom.

9. James asked, "Can you pitch more than one idea at a conference?"

Sure you can. Just make sure you're ready to talk about all of the ideas you bring. Nothing seems more lame than an author who mentions a really cool idea, but when I ask for details, he starts mumbling about "um… well… I don't know… I haven't actually written anything on that one…"

10. Deborah asked, "How will I know when I've actually met the right agent?"

Beats me. Maybe you'll hear angels singing, or there will be a holy glow emanating from the agent's chair. You could speak in tongues, for all I know. But my guess is it'll all feel right — there will have been some good conversation, you'll both feel comfortable with each other, and there will be enough trust built up that you'll both feel good about partnering on books.

11. Several people have written to ask me what the best writing conferences are.

There's no easy answer. The Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing takes place every other year on the campus of Calvin College, and in my opinion it's the best gathering of writers and thinkers we have. Some people swear by the Iowa Writers Workshop, or Sewanee, or the Bread Loaf Conference. I think the ACFW conference that happens every September is as good as a conference can be. It's in Denver this year, always seems to be at a nice hotel, has superb faculty, and offers good craft info as well as great networking. I always think it's the best value for the money. The Write-to-Publish conference takes place on the campus of Wheaton College each summer, and it's also a fine general conference. Very good meetings, well organized, great food, easy to get to, and a reasonable cost (the only downside is that you sleep in college dorm rooms, which may bring back bad memories involving crepe paper, beer, and getting turned down for  dances). The Blue Ridge conference under Al Gansky has turned into a major league gathering for Christian writers, and has great accomodations in the wonderful setting of Asheville (the only downside being that Asheville is expensive to get to, and the food is apparently cooked by guilt-ridden Southern Baptists). But all three of those would be on my "A" list for Christian writing conferences.

RWA puts on a fine, though pricey, conference that usually has the most industry professionals. The Colorado Christian conference takes place in gorgeous Estes Park, and Marlene Bagnull always seems to gather a solid faculty, which makes up for the fact that the rooms and food leave something to be desired. On the other hand, her conference in Philly has fine rooms and food, they're just a distance from the actual conference. Mount Hermon is a big conference with lots of industry professionals that consistently has excellent class and workshop options — it just costs an arm and leg between conference fees and travel, and sucks up an entire week. And there are other conferences around the country that might surprise you. Next month I'll be at the University of Georgia for the Harriette Austin conference, for example. Numerous college and regional retreats are very good – Sante Fe, Jackson Hole, Stony Brook, etc.  I know there are conferences from Delaware to Southern California, from Florida to Washington State. In late July the Oregon Christian Writers are putting on a conference that has a great faculty lineup at a good value, even though it may seem a bit out of the way.

If you're a Christian writer who regularly visits this blog, check out some of the general market conferences in your area. If you're just starting out, consider attending one of ACW's two-day writing conferences, which Reg Foder runs in about 30 cities each year. They're a fine introduction to the business, at a very low cost.

12. I've had more than a dozen write to ask, "Which writing conferences will you be at this summer?"

I've been showing up at numerous writers' conferences this year — Colorado, Blue Ridge, Write-to-Publish. I'll be at Write Canada next week, then at the University of Georgia and the Oregon conference in July. Come September I'll be meeting with authors at the ACFW gathering in Denver. I'm trying to get to see people and talk with them about the industry as much as possible because… well, it's coming to an end for me. I've done well over 100 writing conferences the past few years, and I've decided to hang it up for a while. I feel as though I've said what needs to be said, and I've got authors who really need my full attention. I might still make it to ACFW each fall, since I have so many authors attending most years, but I don't see myself continuing on the conference trail very much.

Hope you find all this conference info helpful. If you have other questions, feel free to run them by me.

I blogged last about being willing to write to an editors needs and I want to clarify a few things. If you read my whole post, you'll see it was done in the context of writing magazine articles – not books.

While there are some carry-overs from freelancing to authoring books — the need for discipline, benefits of remaining flexible, dedication to learning and improving your skills — there are some differences to keep in mind.

One of the most important is to resist the urge to chase the market.  My opinion is that if book authors constantly attempt to write what's hot, they will never develop their authentic voice and will eventually burn out their writing skills.  Besides, in most cases, by the time they write what's hot, it's not.

There are exceptions to this.  I recently asked a couple authors I represent if they would be interested in writing within a sub-category of their chosen genres but I only did so because we are still working to find their "home" as an author and because they'd indicated they would do whatever it took to break in.  More importantly, though, in both cases, they'd proven to me by the quality of their writing
that they could likely master the specific categories — and do so quickly — so we decided, together, that it was worth a try.  Jumping through the "market" hoop works sometimes – but the circumstances have to be just right.

I can't help but think of the obedience training we're going through with our "new" six-year old dog, Katie.  After adopting her from the county shelter, we purposely waited a couple months before enrolling her in obedience school because we wanted to know more about her personality, habits, and routines.  We were told she'd been a survivor of Katrina, and that she was a stray for some time before someone turned her in to the shelter.  (I don't know how anyone would know that for sure, but it was enough to convince us she was the right dog for us (my husband jokes that the dog they showed to the next family was a "Katrina dog" too.))  Anyway, now that we know her a bit, we know she's good about being left alone in the house, is incredibly friendly with people and especially children, but has a bad habit of jumping on and licking everyone who comes within kissing distance,  and is not capable of being trusted around other dogs.  She's got some great traits — but a couple pretty bad ones which we need to correct before even thinking of enrolling her in the agility course which my son has had in his head since the day we adopted her.  In other words, no hoops for Katie until she's got the basics down.  And then, it's still debatable.

I do believe an old dog can learn new tricks, but sometimes, it's better if we have the chance first to love them for who they are.

I've been thinking a lot about how my experience as a freelance writer prepared me to help guide authors who are working hard to find their way in this tight market.

Before I met Chip and turned to the dark side to join him as an agent, I freelanced for a living. One of my most steady gigs was for a national trade publication. When I first began writing there, my job was to take the dullest stories the Director of Communications needed covered and do my best to bring them to life. After a year of proving that I could be trusted with the mundane pieces (trust me – mundane is generous here) he began to come to me for new ideas. I was thrilled because this meant I got to follow my own interests (within reason) and research areas about which I had at least a shred of curiosity. I'd write up a quick pitch; get a yes, no, or almost; make adjustments; and then dive in to researching and writing.  After a year of working this way, I got the sense that he was growing tired of even this much back & forth, so, in an effort to make his job easier – and help guarantee that mine would continue – I did a little digging and put together a list of article topics with suggested publication times based on seasons, themes, and events in the industry I was covering.

He was greatly relieved, and I was off & running for another year. Not only had I taken a naggy task off his plate, but I'd proven to him that all his trust in me during the previous two years had not been ill invested.  My job, too, became easier because I knew what and when I was going to be writing. This made it so much easier to plan my time. And, because I had a plan, I found I had more mental space and less stress when he asked me to step in and write bigger articles and take on feature pieces for their high profile, glossy  (and better paying) consumer magazine – the assignments which, if I'd chosen to continue there, would have helped me build a very serious portfolio and continue not just to make a living as a freelancer, but to make a good living at it.

Did I start by pitching feature pieces? No. I started by writing the basic stuff no one else wanted to do. Did I love it? No. But, my hope was that it would lead to bigger things — and guess what? It did.

While I was researching and writing those smaller articles on topics about which I new absolutely nothing, I was developing my interview skills, learning to write tight, satisfying my curiosity, keeping my writing muscles in shape, and stretching the boundaries of my writing comfort zone. Most importantly, though, I was bringing in consistent money, and building bylines and credibility.

I know I'm talking about articles here, and that there are distinct
differences between magazine and book publishing. Hopefully, though,
you can also see the parallels.

The message I'm hoping to convey is that if I'd been silly (brave, foolish, naive, faithful, hopeful – you pick) enough  to pitch this editor with the idea
of a feature piece for his premiere publication when he had no idea who
I was or if I could pull it off, he would have had every right to laugh and
hang up on me.

I'm hoping to inspire you to think about is the notion that writing for the smaller, independent publishers and category imprints still, and will always, offer opportunities not only to build credibility, but to earn a living. We naturally tend to target the big houses; the well-known imprints, thinking if we strike it big at first, we'll be able to coast from there. It's just not true – and, as hard as it's become to break in and/or find spots on lists at this level, (especially now when they've all hunkered down and, in some cases, cut back titles) it's also not realistic – even for established authors – to make a good living only writing "big" books.

If you're trying to make a living at this, or simply trying to break in, now is a good time to study what the small and/or independent houses are doing well.

I need to acknowledge that I know we often advise authors to stay true and write that which you are called to write. That's still true. But, while you write for love, it's also possible – and perfectly okay – to write for the sake of building credibility, and your bank account.