You ugly.

I read through a bit of your blog and found it interesting.  As much as inspiring writers could benefit from your sage advice, however, it appears that you yourself would do well to listen to those skilled in the ways of developing websites.  The black background in combination with the red and orange nearly sent me screaming in horror from the room, and I swear that at one point I was weeping blood from prolonged exposure to this Lovecraftian monstrosity.

I'm not gonna lie--I thought this design was pretty. But what do I know, I'm just a word jockey who begs her designer friends to make her logos only to alter them with MS Paint. 

If anyone's poor eyes are still with me, let me direct you to my new and marginally more attractive site, editorialavenger. It's, um, still black as of this moment.

Content-wise, this blog was kind of a practice run for me, and I soon grew the cojones to put a real one out there with my name on it. Be only as kind as I've been.

Same old boring advice

So I give workshops and have sat on a couple panels on writing, editing, and publishing. Every time, I freak out and overprepare for really challenging industry questions. And every time, every single time, I get these:

I want to write. How do I start? What should I produce that'll sell?

I am so sorry to disappoint you with the same thing you've heard over and over, but it's the only freaking answer:

Write what you love. Write the book you want to read.

You know what, forget publishing at this point. Just write and write and write, and figure out what you actually enjoy while you're doing it. I know a lot of "successful" authors at this point, and just a couple of them actually make their entire living by it. Writing cannot be first and foremost a job; that's not sustainable for most people. It's too competitive, with too little payoff. Writing has to be your daily routine, it's what makes you happy. If it pays someday, awesome, but virtually all of what you're going to get out of it (even if it sells!) is just the joy of doing it. So concentrate on doing the writing that you enjoy (the only kind you're be any good at), and maybe it'll pay later.

Pay no attention to the beginning.

The first chapter of my novel is actually a problem, it doesn't read like the rest of the book. Nothing happens, nor anything pertaining to the plot.

You really have to give us a little more information on both counts. If nothing happens, nor anything pertaining to the plot, and it doesn't read like the rest of the book, what is its purpose? Just as importantly, what will your prospective editor expect from the rest of the book? Remember that we'll stop reading at any point; the last thing I want to hear from any of yous is "Just keep going, it'll get better in the third chapter."

I think you've just decided to trash that first chapter and work its contents into the exposition. If you're really enamored of that initially different voice, try a short prologue, but make sure it's necessary.

I'm wondering if I should start in the action, or just a bit later on, and then flash back.

Where to start your story in relation to the action is another question entirely. Usually, any of several different techniques will work. It depends on what kind of action you're telling us about. What style are you going for, what are you good at, and what makes sense for the story?

Sorry for the vagueness. Pitch to the clinic, let us see!

Keep bleeding, there's blood left

Is there a point when you receive so many rejection letters as a writer that it's unrealistic to hope for a change in fortune? I've been sending short stories and poetry out for the past year and the pile of letters is beginning to topple over.

Honestly, it depends on what you're getting out of the rejections. Most (all?) successful (and by successful, I mean have ever sold anything, ever) writers have an amazing stack of rejection letters under that first manuscript that went anywhere. So one way to look at is that you've done amazing job at persevering, which is pretty special. Most people give up way before now. Seriously, good keeping at it.

The question is, what are you getting out of these rejections? Are you learning anything, and is your writing improving? Has anyone given you any real feedback, or are they all form letters?

If you've got some personal notes from editors, great. Take their advice to heart and rewrite, and work on new projects. Revision's kind of a crap shoot for us; we really don't get excited about projects that need a lot of it, as so many writers can't do it. Use editorial suggestions to inform new work instead of focusing solely on rewriting one project to death.

If your feedback's remained completely generic, it might mean it's time to really examine the quality of your writing. What does your critique group say? You do have one, right?

Also, poetry and short stories are tough to sell. Make sure you're submitting to publications that want exactly what you're doing. (Odds are overwhelming it's not going in a book.)

First Pages: #2

AZ / Inhabit

Although I really did find a way to power the rockets to take hundreds of us throughout the solar system, the only product of my entire career struggle working in so-called "rocket science," was that people wanted to hear the story.

“Entire career struggle” is confusing, but right on. I want to hear the story too.

As the "Featured Evening Speaker", again and again, they would keep me long after I was finished talking, asking me questions. What was so captivating? Was it the stories about how we can actually leave the Earth? Or was it just that I was telling them stories and entertaining them? Or was it my struggle against the real world and reality? I can't tell, so I am telling the story

You know, this is a really interesting topic, but it could be a lot more engaging. The Featured Speaker Q&A is a really great way to give your readers vicarious access to your storyteller. This technique would work a lot better as a scene than a narrative. Drop us right into that Q&A with some dialogue.

The struggle to make a Vision come alive, a kind of Exodus Path to Leave Earth, became intense, compelling, overpowering, and took on a single purpose at the moment when I first found out there was water in space. I knew immediately I could use it.

Clarify this a little more, and use it in the back story after you’ve hooked us with some speaker-audience interaction.

At the end of that career, after I "retired" and started another, I had discovered comparatively simple ways to do it:

Wait, which career ended and which started? Ease into this transition.

• to use the water objects and ice comets in neospace as gas stations,
• to use nuclear-heated steam rockets to move us,
  
• to travel the solar system,maybe to live on ice moons of the Sun System,
• maybe to use giant, ice-igloo, hollow wheels as space ships,
• to move killer asteroids and comets out of the way without atomic bombs.

Clean this list up; you’ve got some unclear concepts and you’ve mixed vague ideas with solid problem-solving.

We would inhabit, occupy, move minor planets and other celestial objects.

After all the effort, all the Visions, I got old instead of making it happen.

Love this line. Is this the focus of the story?

First Pages: #1

MR / An Unsettling Lack of Giraffes

He was Australian – I remember that part distinctly. It was the first time I’d seen an Australian outside of television and it made me immediately suspicious.

Nice opening, but we have no idea where we are. The tone is set, but nothing else. Which is fine if we get oriented really quickly.

He didn’t have a boomerang or a knife, and neither his boots nor his belt were made from animal skin. He was just tall and bearded, kind of in the way that the president on the penny
looks. Was he legit?

"Kind of in the way that the president on the penny looks" sounds like an attempt to overwrite your way into a kid's POV. Make it simpler. "Legit" clashes in voice. What age are we aiming for here?

“G’day,” he said. Other adults sounded awkward when they used that expression, but he didn’t at all - like it was natural for him.

That last line's wordy and intrusive. "Used that expression" sounds adult. Even when you're reporting a childhood memory as an adult, you want to capture that younger perspective.

I liked him immediately.

"Immediately" seems to have quite the window here. And what happened to the suspicion?

“Which came first: the chicken, or the egg?” he asked us.
I was in the 2nd grade at the time, and my school had gathered the student body together in the auditorium for a special assembly. The Australian opened his lecture with that question and nobody raised their hand to reply.

This would be more engaging if we were getting this from the second grader's perspective. It's not yet time for the narrative to dry out any. What are the really salient parts of grade school assemblies?

“Which came first?” he repeated, but the room was still silent. “Does anyone want to guess?”
Some of the hands in the auditorium went up. He called on several of us (including me) and got some typical elementary school answers.

Sounds accurate to a memory, which isn't exactly what we want to read. Punch it up a little. "Some of the hands" and "several of us" could be more specific and colorful.

“The Chicken, because eggs don’t come from nowhere.”
“The egg. Chickens can’t come from nowhere.”
“They both came at the same time?”
“Well, those are all good ways of looking at it,” he said. “Does anyone else want to take a guess?” He called on one of the 4th graders.
“The Chicken! It came first because God made it,” She said.
“Right!” he said. “It’s designed to do what it does do, what it does do it does do well, doesn’t it?”

This is probably hilarious spoken, but it's hard to follow written. Is it from something? Is this a cute line you can use a little later, when he's discussing the chicken's "design?"

We giggled.
“The chicken came first because God made it,” he repeated. “This is a Christian school so I’m sure all of you have heard the creation story by now. You know, seven days. All that good stuff.”

His tone sounds a little forced and awkward here. He doesn't seem terribly reverent, either.

All the hands went up around the room.
“Great! But I wonder – have any of you heard of evolution before?”
And again, hands shot up.
“Well, good! But can any of you tell me what it means?”
Less hands went up this time. He went around and had several kids give their explanation before he got the answer he was looking for, which was something to the tune of “evolution means God didn’t create anything.”
“Right! Evolution means that God didn’t have any part in creation at all. Evolution says that we were an accident. An accident!” he repeated with emphasis. “That we just happened to show up here; that we just happened to turn out the way we did. But that’s not how the bible says it happens.”
He stepped up to a slide projector.
*click*
A graphic of a timeline was projected on the screen with dinosaurs on one end and humans on the other. I don’t remember the dates exactly, but the gist of it was that dinosaurs existed several million years before humans did.

Voice is getting really adult here. We're losing the cute "immediately suspicious" second grader.

“This is a timeline. See how the dinosaurs are on one end and the humans are on the other? This is what evolution says. Evolutionists say that humans and dinosaurs never existed at the same time.”
He pushed another button on the slide projector.
*click*
The timeline changed to a picture of dinosaurs in a large, spacious garden. Near the bottom of the picture were two half-naked humans, conveniently covered by some low-hanging branches. One of them was petting a raptor.

WC: the bird or the dinosaur? Avoid ambiguity, even when it's obvious to you. Using a great-sounding word isn't usually worth the risk of interrupting your reader. Here, I think "velociraptor" rings just fine.

“Who remembers what day God made the animals?”
Kids shouted out several numbers between two and six.
“The fifth day!” he said. “Very good! God made all of the animals on the fifth day, and that includes the dinosaurs. And then God made us on the very next day. Now, see anything wrong with that timeline we just looked at?”
He switched back to the previous slide.
“Dinosaurs didn’t exist millions of years before us. They existed one day before us. One million years. One day. Big difference, right?”
We giggled again.

Hm. He'd be really interesting if he were more sarcastic and crazy, or insidiously smarmy. Ramp it up! We want to see his eyes bulge and his hair frizz and his teeth show right from the get-go. He's kinda just a voice right now.

I'd keep reading. Even though I know my house wouldn't touch it. Promises to be interesting.

In which we resume

Sorry about that pause in programming, folks. Your favorite assistant fell in love.

I lost my perspective; all the submissions looked entertaining and purposeful through the haze of my rosy glow. My interns finished their semester and I was left alone to frolic like so in the mountain of creativity that is the slushpile. Its anthropomorphism captured the essence of what it is to be a writer's pet these days. I found its many overused tropes insightful and warranted; the alliteration, alluring. Even the Crazy was a joy to invite into my brain. What need had I for a point to each story? The journey was its own reward!

Stop it, now. Breathe. The love must be tough.

Now that the serotonin dump has leveled out a bit, onward!

To Query?

One thing that Writer's Market and other publications will tell you about publishers is whether or not they accept unsolicited submissions. If they do, it's not necessary to submit a query letter first.

I hate opening an envelope to see that someone wanted to know if it's okay to submit their work--eight, nine months ago. I try to catch these guys coming in (I open the really skinny ones), but all too often they get thrown on the slushpile.

And please, god, read the submission guidelines. Call and ask if you can't find them. If a publishing house accepts unsolicited submissions, guidelines exist for them. Don't query us to see if it'd be worth it to send us your work. You can find that out for yourself long before you'll hear back from us. If you do.

First Page/Query Clinic

Hi, Reddit.

All right kids, anyone who'd like a quick review of their first page, query, or cover letter can email it to me, and it'll get reviewed here. Please change any identifying details you don't want people to read.

I'll tell you what I'd think of it as a slush reader. Even if you're trying your best to get an agent and avoid the slushpile, keep in mind:

Agents get slush too. And it's even more horrendous that what publishers see.

Writer, watch yourself.

Scammers want your money, and it’s awfully easy for them to get it by exploiting your desire to be published.
There are many legitimate freelance editors (ahem) who can help you, and some real agents willing to take on unpublished writers. They do exist; however, the industry is positively riddled with scammers. I get submissions every week from “agents” who send crap writing with crap cover letters because they don’t expect the work to be considered; they get paid just for sending them.

Be aware of Writer Beware and Preditors and Editors, where you can find lists of agents and editors both legitimate and predatory, and a lot more information about protecting yourself.
In general, a legitimate agent won’t advertise that they specialize in unpublished writers, or demand fees of any kind upfront. Agents make money when you make money, not before.

A real agent will not EVER send you to a specific freelance editor (o hai, kickback scheme), but you might get a list of good ones out of them.
Legitimate freelance editors will never:

• Guarantee that working with them raises your chance of publication
• Tell you that publishing houses require that your work be professionally edited
• Contact you out of the blue (although they might be referred by someone)
• Evade legitimate questions about their business
• Offer “referral fees” for providing editors’ and agents’ names
• Refuse to edit at least a sample page of your work for you
• Refuse to give you a time estimate for the job
• Refuse to work with a written contract

The only reason my Cv isn’t posted here is that I work for a publishing house, and can’t advertise my freelance services as their employee (we’d be flooded with submissions addressed to me, and it would be a conflict of interest). Catch-22. I’m also telling you all way too much about the slush. You’re welcome.
Watch it now.

What's so bad about the slushpile?

It's not that it isn't possible to cut through the slush and get published. It is. It's just so rare as to be borderline miraculous to get discovered that way. Why?

Because it's a very negative process, going through slush. It's a horrible mountain of horribleness that we have to take apart bit by tiny bit. And the way we do that is: we eliminate.

I have to read this whole thing?

Slush-divers start the day looking for positive elements or potential for improvement. As we watch the pile imperceptibly shrink, though, we look for the first indication of the inappropriate, the bad, the amateur, and the mediocre, with a constant eye out for The Crazy. Good might not be exciting, but a problem to deal with. It's awful, but that's really what we sometimes think when we read something decent hours into the hunt.

It's not that bad everywhere. Baen Books found an ingenious way to crowdsource the slushpile (great article here), and Harper-Collins launched a similar site last year, Authonomy. The first book discovered through the site came out last month, just months after it was chosen to be reviewed by an editor.

This is not the norm. Everywhere else, slush is an agonizing process and will remain so indefinitely, or until the house gives up and relies solely on agents. For us, they stop the mediocre and The Crazy from distracting us from the good stuff. For you, they get you in the right door to the right person.

Find an agent.

Everybody loves this book!

A good quarter of unsolicited manuscripts come with “independent market research,” i.e. the authors shopped it around to friends or, in the case of children’s books, classrooms.

As I was deciding how to write this, I picked up a piece of slush and found yet another example. I quote:

I have been an invited speaker in local classrooms, and each reading from my book was met with a very enthusiastic response. The children loved it! They and their teachers gave me valuable feedback and expressed keen interest in my future work. As you turn the following pages, I am confident you will agree with them…

Of course they liked it. This means nothing.

Your serious critique circle’s feedback is valuable. To you, as a resource. Your friends and family’s feedback is great for encouragement. Publishing houses are not interested in anyone’s take on your work but their own and that of other industry professionals, which is one reason that agents are so valuable.

Your work's just going to have to speak for itself.

Self-Publishing and You

A vanity press is not a publishing house. Self-published books look exactly the same to us coming into slush as any other manuscript, maybe a little crazier.

That said, I do think self-publishing has its place.

No, really.

First, if you have a built-in market like an immensely popular blog, you can make some money that way. There are benefits and drawbacks to working with a publishing house, and you might decide to do it on your own. (But I'd hire a freelance editor to polish it; vanity presses aren't known for quality editorial contributions.)

The other situation is very different. I read submissions about neighborhood history or family stories (especially animal rescues), and I want to tell their writers to self-publish. I don't, of course, because thou shalt not encourage the masses, but I want to. Stuff that's relevant to a specific and connected group of people might deserve a record in book form. It could be priceless to that small circle of people, worth far more than the cost to produce. If there are pictures, even more so.

There is very little overlap between this kind of story and a commercially viable one. Can you spot the difference?

Self-Publishing and Us

Lots of people submit their manuscripts, especially picture books, as dummies. The idea is that they've got a format in mind that makes the book work. This is fine, and on some occasions enlightening. Keep in mind, though, that most publishers will reserve the right to select artwork, which means that any more than a rough outline is a waste of time (and money, if you spend any. Please don't spend any.)

Some people take this a step further and have an actual book produced from a vanity press, in the hopes that this will

• make us fall in love with your finished product
  
• trick us into seeing you as a published author
• present your work in the most professional light possible

It won't. I promise.

The Cover Letter

I'm afraid you're going to have to address it to a dummy editor. There's no other way to go about it. If you do get ahold of a real editor's name somewhere, your submission will still get relegated to slush once anyone opens it. Seriously, I do it every day.

Introduce your manuscript, making the title salient. Briefly describe the key plot points and the hook, the selling point, what makes it special. If you don't know what your hook is, find one in your MS or rewrite it.

Include relevant information about yourself. Have you written anything that's been reproduced for profit? That would be great. Do you have specialized knowledge about the topic of your novel? Excellent. Some degree of recognition in a related field? Fabulous.

Don't be crazy. Don't. Be. Crazy. If I love your MS, but you rambled about unrelated issues and formative influences on your work, it'll make me nervous. There will be plenty of time to play Eccentric Artist when you're a bestselling millionaire. If you put the Crazy in your cover letter, it will not charm us. It'll make us not want to have to interact with you long enough and intensely enough to publish your book. I ask the interns to watch for the Crazy and not to let it near me.

Things Which Lack Relevance
Your 10-page academic Cv.
Pictures of the dog/granchildren who inspired the story.
How long it took you to write it.
Details about your family.
Personal details that don't speak to your ability to write your book.
Begging. Seriously. It does not give us that publishy feeling.
Your independent "market research" (more on this later.) No one cares that your friends and children loved it. We barely care if our friends and children love it.

"Hi, I just wrote a book?"

I literally hear that at least once a week, rising inflection and all. I suppose calling a publisher for instructions is a step above shipping off your opus with nary a "submissions guidelines" googling, but it's a little one.

It's astounding how casually so many would-be writers approach the publishing process. Like it's a hobby that should instantly pay off if pursued one afternoon when your dog does the cutest thing and you just have to write it down. Bingo bango! Career!

Guys. No. We'll address the pet thing in another post, but as for the work you put into writing and getting published, treat it like a job.

ToughLove's 4-Step Guide to Agentless Submitting

1. Study, Practice Writing. Repeat. Read, write, take writing classes. As much as you possibly can. Write your opus. And then write another one, cause the first one's pretty much guaranteed to be crap.
   
2. Research. All publishing houses, even ones who publish the same genre, have distinct styles that they're known for and markets that they cater to. Sending your work to a house it's not a fit for is an utter waste of time. That's not to say your manuscript should mimic their top seller, but it should be compatible with their list in topic and style. A house that specializes in children's literature and young YA is not going to be interested in your erotic historical thriller. When you find a likely publisher, do your research on them, too. If they accept unsolicited submissions, they have guidelines. They will be easy to find, probably in multiple formats. Follow them to the letter. The "acquisitions editor" listed is bogus, but it's the best you can do without connecting with someone at a conference or such.
   
3. Submit. Follow their guidelines, and tweak your cover letter to fit and address their needs. Think about who might want to read your book, and for what reason. Your publisher is going to have to sell it; make it seem possible. Include relevant information on yourself, the topic, and the source of your expertise on the subject. More on that later.
4. Wait. Don't bother checking on status unless your work was requested. No one knows, no one cares. Your manuscript is in a pile, and it will be read. Calling and harrassing the receptionist* has a better chance of getting your MS filed in the trash than hurrying up the process. Again, manuscript submission is like a job interview. If you come across as hard to work with, your work isn't worth dealing with you.

*Be aware that in some small publishing houses (and big ones in this economy, for all I know), there is no receptionist. Which means that sometimes, perhaps most of the time, the person answering your call has a hand in the slush. Conduct yourself professionally, for godsakes.