Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Can a Review be TOO Good?

During the 1980s I wrote scores of book and software reviews, both standalone and in conjunction with magazine columns. For the most part I had positive things to say about what I reviewed because the products I was reviewing were good.

Only once was one of my reviews questioned. A week after I turned in a particularly glowing review of a game from a small publisher to one of the major computer magazines. the magazine’s editor phoned to ask whether the game was really that good.

“Yes, it is.” I told her.

“Do you mean you can’t say anything bad about it? Isn’t there anything wrong with the game?”

I thought about it. Why would she be asking this? Was my praise over the top? No. I knew it wasn't.

“No" I replied. "It really is that good! The game has a great plot. The artwork is excellent. Even the manual is good.”

“You can’t think of even one bad thing about it?” she persisted.

Now I started to become suspicious. “I'm sure I can find some really minor fault, if I look for it long enough.. But it would be irrelevant. Why do you want me to do this?”

“We had a call this morning. The publisher of this game has cut advertising down to bimonthly from monthly.”

Somewhere in the dim recesses of my brain, a metaphorical light bulb switched on. “Okay, I understand. I’ll E-mail a revision tomorrow.”

And I did indeed understand. Since the software publisher had reduced advertising, the magazine would reduce support to the publisher—in the form of making the product seem as if it were not as good as it really was. The American Way, I suppose.

To satisfy the editor's request, I cited some awkward passages in the game's manual. She wasn't satisfied with it, but she was on deadline and ended up cutting much of the manuscript anyway.

Naturally it occured to me that the bestselling status of some games was being bought, rather than earned. That would explain some really crummy games getting so much press ...

Yes, I was cynical, but I was a bit surprised, too. I had heard of payola, from the record company scandals of the 1950s and 1960s, all the way back to Vaudeville in the 1920s. But not in the 1980s—surely publishing was more enlightened than that.

But it wasn’t, and isn't. I can't cite any at the moment, but there are undoubtedly magazines today in which reviews are slanted one way or the other, depending on how much a publisher advertises.

Hence, some good books aren't reviewed because their publishers don't advertise. And sometimes useless books are reviewed and validated because the publisher advertises. And, now and then, bestsellers can be bought.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com/
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Sunday, April 01, 2007

Signs that You've "Arrived" as a Writer?

By what benchmarks does one measure his success as a writer? Does selling over 100,000 copies of a book mean you've arrived? Or do you have to make the New York Times bestseller list to feel that you are really and truly a by-damn author?

Even though I have made the Times bestseller list and enjoyed six-figure sales, neither of those quite did it for me. The first time I felt I'd achieved the status of full-fledged author was when I saw one of my books in a used bookstore. It legitimized everything; here was proof that someone had actually bought my book, and thought enough of it to pass it along to someone else, rather than trash it.Of course there are downsides to this sort of validation. For one thing, I make no money on used-book sales. And it would be more flattering if more people kept the books.

Still, I really enjoy the idea of seeing my books available after they're out of print. And I know I can always find a copy of a book when I've given away all my copies.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Addendum: Another commentary on this subject will be found in an earlier post, "6 Ways to Know if You're a Successful Writer" (which also appeared in The Writer magazine in 2006).

* That book that made the bestseller list was my co-authored CROSLEY: Two Brothers and a Business Empire that Transformed the Nation (Clerisy Press, 2006).

Monday, March 26, 2007

Advertising in E-Books

If a Web startup that went live in August succeeds, free ebooks may come to mean more than such hoary classics The Ancient Art of War, Paradise Lost, and The Odyssey. Unlike most free ebook packagers, WOWIO (http://www.wowio.com) offers modern, in-copyright works. Titles range from novels by Arthur C. Clarke and Kurt Vonnegut to William Stryon’s The Confessions of Nat Turner. Contemporary graphic novels and comics are also available, together with a number of out-of-copyright classics by writers such as Emily Dickenson and Jane Austen.

WOWIO downloads are provided to registered users as free PDF downloads, and are supported by full-page ads. Publishers share in the ad revenue, as do authors (though the amount that trickles down to a given author is likely to be miniscule, given the kinds of percentages specified in author contracts).

Most readers may find ads in a WOWIO ebook a bit startling the first few times. The ad pages in WOWIO ebooks are larger than the regular content pages; hence, when an ad comes up, it gives the impression of jumping on the screen. And the ads are in full color.

How many ads appear in a book? WOWIO founder William Lidwell says, “the goal is to keep it under a ratio of one ad page per three content pages. By comparison, many magazines have ratios as high as 1:1.” It doesn’t appear that the company has achieved the 3:1 ratio as yet; WOWIO versions of Player Piano and Cat’s Cradle contain six ads each.

Digital Rights Management (DRM) begins with positive identification of each downloader. WOWIO users are required to provide conventional identifying information (name, address, phone), and then positively verify their IDs with a credit card. Lidwell emphasizes that the credit card information is not retained, and no charges are made.

A unique identifying number is issued the user, and it is included on each page of every ebook the user downloads, along with the downloader’s name on the cover. Thus, if a WOWIO ebook is distributed, WOWIO or its publisher can go to the original downloader.

This “custom publishing” of ebooks goes beyond identifying the downloader. Ads included in an ebook are based on a demographics questionnaire that users fill out during signup. The company also provides a feature that allows users to filter potentially objectionable ads. Users do not receive ads for alcoholic beverages, gambling products and services, tobacco, or sexually-oriented products and services unless they that request ads in any or all of these categories be included in their books. Additional categories may be added in the future.

All titles are already available for sale as ebooks elsewhere, including Rosetta Books (http://www.rosettabooks.com).

WOWIO is not the only organization to bring ad-supported ebooks to the Web. A Minnesota company called Freeload Press http://www.freeloadpress.com offers free ebook versions of several dozen college textbooks in a variety of disciplines. The ebooks contain ads from companies such as Fedex Kinko’s and Total Recall Learning.

Students can also buy special ad-supported paperback versions of most texts from Freeload at substantial discounts over regular prices.

Of course, not every textbook students may need will be available from Freeload Press, and this likely to remain the case. But with textbooks averaging $90, most students will take anything they can get.

At least one attempt to subsidize textbooks with advertising preceded Freeload. In 2005 McGraw-Hill tested a program involving discounts on ebooks carrying ads. The program failed to generate enough interest to warrant continuing it. Ad-bearing ebooks might have been more attractive if they had been free. By the same token, hardcopy books with ads offered at discounts would probably have been more successful.

Also of note in the free ebook arena is the Baen Free Library (http://www.baen.com/library). Operated by science fiction and fantasy publisher Baen Books, the Baen Free Library has since 2000 made novels by noted writers such as Lois McMaster Bujold, Andre Norton, and David Drake available for download in multiple formats. The ebooks contain no advertising; the service is to promote the publisher’s titles and SF/fantasy in general.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Whence Came the Web?

An editor recently told me that whenever he gets a book manuscript--or even a table of contents--that offers a history of the Internet or Web, he tells the author to remove it, because the story is always the same, and there's no way to check the source.

Just about every history of the Internet I've seen or heard is the same. Everyone tells the same story about ARPAnet, and it's been told so many times that it's almost as if it came to us set in stone. In fact, the conventional history of the Internet could be codified into something like this:

In the beginning there was no Connection. Then—Lo!—ARPAnet was brought forth upon the land by the scholars, and among themselves they learned to Connect. The Department of Defense took note and said, “Let there be DARPAnet!”

And the DoD saw that this was good, and said “Henceforth, let only scholars and soldiers be Connected,” and it was so, for the DoD was mighty, and all feared its wrath. TCP and IP were created, and the word was “Internet,” and it was good.

But the people, led by the merchants of the land, were sorely vexed, and demanded that they, too, be Connected ...


And so on. That's how conventional wisdom has it that the Internet began. Add a bit about a stranger from a far land to explain the Web, and the Online Genesis is complete!

The only problem with all this is that it's not true. Oh, certainly ARPAnet did some of the fundamental research in developing computer communications, but saying that ARPAnet is the Internet is like saying two wheels and an axle make an automobile.

The real story requires a book to tell. I'm writing it now ...
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Six Ways to Know if You're a Successful Writer

1. People you don’t know start criticizing your work.
2. People you do know stop criticizing your work.
3. Strangers write to you and say, “I haven’t read anything of yours, but would you read something of mine?”
4. Your neighbors stop asking you when you’re going to get a job.
5. Friends start inviting you over to show you “... something I’ve been working on.”
6. You start cashing your checks instead of having them framed.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Over 48,000 Copies Sold ...

Sales of CROSLEY: Two Brothers and a Business Empire that Transformed the Nation have topped 48,000. If you're curious about how the book was promoted, and the special geographic pattern of sales, have a look at this story in Publishers Weekly.

This comes after CROSLEY made the New York Times extended bestseller list, as well as the Wall Street Journal and Business Week lists.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com

Friday, February 23, 2007

Books about Writing, for Writers

The header says "Books for Writers," but note that this post isn't about books on writing how-to and technique. Rather, the following are books that will expand your knowledge of both the writing process and the publishing business.

In addendum, if you are interested in writing for a living you may find my book, How to Become a Fulltime Freelance Writer, of interest. (An Ebook version will be available at Amazon soon.)
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Politics

Politics: The art of making people see what they want to see, rather than what is.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Friday, February 02, 2007

Newspaper book blogging ...

Here's something we don't see enough of: a dedicated book blog in a newspaper. Cincinnati's LitChick, Enquirer veteran Sara Pearce, provides some of the most comprehensive coverage of new books available. It's all from the reader's viewpoint, with lots of interesting background details on authors, publishers, and the books themselves. Regional and national.

Sara is currently running a poll as to which character readers think will die in the next (and final) Harry Potter book. Have a look, at:

LitChick: Hmm ... who do you think will die?

Check out some of the other features, too!
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com

Fame?

The more famous you are, the less you act it. The more famous you THINK you are, the more you act a fool about it.

--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

CROSLEY Continues to Score

CROSLEY: Two Brothers and a Business Empire that Transformed the Nation continues to pop up on various bestseller lists. It's currently No. 6 on Barnes & Noble's list of bestselling business books, and has made the Wall Street Journal's hardcover business book list, as well as the New York Times extended bestseller list (twice).

Not bad for a book in its third month of life.

I'm presently working on follow-up books for the same audience. These are narrative nonfiction books that examine some fascinating business, personal, and technological subjects in the same way CROSLEY does.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com

Another Problem with Ebooks ...

When Ebooks are all we have (as enthusiasts predict will "someday" be the situation), what will authors autograph?
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Google, the McCartney Effect, and Writers

What's up with Google? Famous for searching, the company has moved into advertising, E-mail, and other Web ventures. Why? It's almost as if McDonald's started building houses, simply because it has the money.

What I think it happening is this: Having reached the summit and finding it can go no higher, Google hopes to duplicate the exhilaration of its original run-up to success by engaging in new projects. It’s not about the money; it’s about the magic.

But the magic isn’t there, thanks to what I call “The McCartney Effect.”

Paul McCartney has worked to recapture the magic of the Beatles’ early days since he wrote “Get Back.” But those days cannot live again because the uncertainty, anticipation, and risk are gone. That’s the McCartney Effect: You can’t undo the legacy of success.

Succeed or fail, Google trying new Web ventures is like Paul McCartney organizing new bands, making movies, writing opera and so on. He’s still McCartney, and Google is still Google. Neither will ever “get back.”

This is not uncommon in pop music or other facets of the entertainment industry, where few people every really drop out and disappear to the extent that they must truly start over as an unknown. When a person or organization reaches a certain level of fame, it is impossible to subtract that fame.

More examples: Chuck Berry returning from infamy and prison, or Willy Nelson coming back after being wiped out by the IRS. No problem! No risks or uncertainties. Each had his fame behind him--fame and images that obviously could not be taken away.

The effect doesn't seem to carry over to writers, though. Once a writer slips away from reader consciousness, making a comeback is like starting over. And if a writer tries a new endeavor, the fame and image don't seem to carry over--unlike, say, an actress becoming a singer, or vice-versa.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Friday, January 19, 2007

How I Got Started Writing, Part II

In early 1960s I started paying attention to the “About the Author” blurbs on book flaps and noticed an interesting common thread. Most writers seemed to have spent their pre-writing lives working at jobs involving manual labor at poverty wages in unidentified but possibly exotic locations, rather like Bob Dylan’s early self-portrayals.

This left my young self with the impression that one had to live in poverty and work a lot of boring jobs before becoming a writer. Which begged the question: Did holding mindless, low-paying jobs make you want to write, or were writers incapable of holding a job? Not that I was thinking of becoming a writer. But some writers made such an impression on me that I was inspired to learn who these people were.

Ten years later, at the age of 20, I found myself working on the assembly line at a GM plant. I was taking evening classes at the University of Cincinnati, driven by a fuzzy idea of becoming an engineer. I had no idea of writing for a living, or writing very much at all beyond the occasional newspaper piece.

If it hadn’t been for the high pay and great benefits, I wouldn’t have stayed at the job long. The work was physically demanding and deadly boring--circumstances that drove some to seek relief in alcohol and drugs on the job. Others, high-seniority men who had the easier jobs, operated small businesses that fed on the boredom. They sold pot, pints of whiskey, pocket knives, and a wide variety of other merchandise that they hand-delivered to customers the line. One such entrepreneur not only sold whiskey but also managed a pornographic book-of-the-week club. Peter Lorre rented out 120-page paperback novels for twenty-five cents a day. (No, it wasn't the real Peter Lorre, but this guy could have been his twin.) For the less literate, Mr. Lorre offered a selection of porno picture books at slightly higher prices.

Although I was bored, getting drunk or stoned didn’t appeal to me, and reading porno novels seemed pointless. But that gave me an idea. Each day I took a book to work with me, mostly science fiction or mystery, though I alternated my reading with textbooks. I managed to read a book a day for most of a year, stealing glances at pages as I waited for the next car on the line to roll up, or during the rare 8- or 10-minute period of freedom I could create by working back the line.

It was a desperate existence, however well-paid. But in the summer of 1971 a slump in the new-car market brought sudden relief. The plant cut an entire shift and I was laid off. No worries, though: I had worked on that line for over a year (minus a couple of months on strike), and under the terms of the union contract I would receive 95 percent of my regular pay every week for six months. Plus medical benefits.

The only requirement was that I apply for a job at least once a week, and report that to the state unemployment bureau. There was a Catch-22 in my favor: I didn’t have to accept a job that paid less than what I was already receiving. As you probably know, the take-home pay of auto workers was huge—almost university vice-president level. When you’re 20 years old and unskilled who else is going to hire you at six times the minimum wage?

Right. There I was, my life completely subsidized. I was a new father, which took up some time, but I was mostly bored. It was a less-antagonizing boredom than standing on the assembly line, but boring enough. Getting another job was out; I’d seen co-workers try that, get caught, and lose the free ride. Going into fulltime party mode wasn’t for me. But I couldn’t just do nothing. More than that, I felt moved to do something worthwhile.

I had no hobbies at the time. I tried volunteering for community organizations, but the opportunities were limited. So I continued writing newspaper stories, for which I was actually paid from time to time, anywhere from $5 to $15. I also managed to talk the owner of a print shop into letting me write some ads for him. I made less than $200 writing that year, but I was beginning to feel like a writer. Doing something worthwhile, or at least something that produced tangible results.

I traveled some. I was still reading, and picked up a dozen or so magazines every month. I subscribed to several, including Popular Science, Mechanix Illustrated, Science Digest, and Analog science fiction magazine. I was strongly drawn by the idea of writing for magazines, but I didn’t feel that I had the skills. I thought about writing books, but here again I felt my skills were lacking. Still, there was one book in particular I made notes to start several times: a biography of Powel Crosley, Jr.

I was also intimidated by the idea of creating a book-length manuscript. At that time in my life I was unable to put so much sustained effort into a project without feedback. Shorter works were my métier.

And short fiction ... well, there was an idea. I was reading a lot of fiction in the monthly magazines, and short story collections were prominent among the books I took to work every day. Why not try fiction?

Why not, indeed? Years of reading had left me with some idea of the structure of fiction. I noticed how sentences were organized, soaked up dialogue technique, and studied the styles of various writers. I was already editing stories in my mind, changing characters and outcomes. (It helped that my 7th-grade English teacher had drilled us on sentence diagramming so much that for weeks afterward I was mentally diagramming sentences as I spoke them.)

So I spent a lot of hours at the typewriter, pounding out mainstream and science fiction stories that were more wish-fulfillment fantasies than marketable fiction. I found it gratifying to write short stories, but I was frustrated that my stories didn’t read as well as published work, and mostly didn’t have satisfying endings. (Some had no endings at all.)

After a few hundred pages I decided to seriously attack the problem of writing style, to answer the question of why my writing was so ... clunky. I studied how writers like Ray Bradbury and Robert Heinlein achieved certain effects, and slowly developed sets of rules to help me produce smoother prose. Heavy editing and rewriting reinforced what I was learning.

The six-month summer eventually came to an end, and I had to find a job. I returned to the automotive industry; family connections help me “get on” at the local Ford transmission plant. Big money, big benefits. I was in Fat City again--but with a killer schedule.

Night shift. Noisy. Grim, bleak, and depressing. Midnight to 8:00 AM four days a week, and Midnight to Noon three days a week. Reading was forbidden, a covert activity. I was lucky to get in 20 pages a night. I drove home each morning (or early afternoon) to toss and turn for hours before I dropped into a fitful sleep, only to wake up a couple hours before I was due at the plant--when everyone else was going to bed. No time for writing. I wanted out, but it seemed to go against all logic to walk away from the kind of money I was making, the equivalent of $3,500 a week in 2007 dollars.

One morning I stopped by a Walden Books store (they were two words back then) to find something to read myself to sleep with. I was perusing the science fiction shelves when for whatever reason my eyes shifted to the right, into the Reference section.

A title on a book’s spine jumped out at me: Writer’s Market.

“I wonder if that’s what I think it is?” I asked myself. I slid the book off the shelf and flipped through it with growing excitement. It was what I thought: a directory of magazine and book publishers for freelance writers--imagine that! Inside I found magazines that I read, and--amazingly--most of the magazines paid money.

I paid my $7.95 and took the fat paperback home. It was a revelation. I had never thought of just sending an article to a magazine, or even sending a query. Magazines were put together by editors in faraway places, people beyond the pale, people who would ignore submissions from someone in Cincinnati, of all places.

But Writer’s Market indicated otherwise. These publishers actually seemed to be inviting submissions, from anyone. As I paged through the book that morning, I was set on a new road. (Little did I suspect that one day I would be endorsing this book in full-page ads in Writer’s Digest.)

Thrilled, I wrote up a short humor piece and sent it to a magazine called Modern People. I’d never seen the magazine, but the WM listing said the editor wanted humor. A few weeks later I received a check for $25. Wow! I was hooked. Maybe I could make some decent money at this stuff, enough to let me take a more sane job.

I may even then have been thinking, in the back of my mind, about making my living as a writer, but consciously I was still thinking of engineering.

The next time I took a newspaper story to Leona Farley I told her about the sale, and Writer’s Market. As it turned out, she knew all about it. And she gave me a dozen or so back issues of Writer’s Digest, a magazine I didn’t know existed. (I was so busy reading marketing listings in WM that I didn’t notice it was published in Cincinnati by Writer’s Digest.)

This was a real boost. Here were people telling you how to write better, and how to get your work read and published. I started sending out more articles, and queries, too. And it didn’t bother me when I learned that Modern People was a tabloid when I finally found an issue at a downtown newsstand. The checks didn’t bounce, and that was good enough for me.
--Mike http://www.michaelabanks.com

Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

How I Got Started Writing, Part I

Thanks to the Crosley book making the New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, I’ve been interviewed by several newspapers. Most of the reporters were curious as to how I got into writing for publication. In case you're curious, too, here’s the story I told them:

Although I always did well in languages in grade school and high school (English and Spanish), I never gave a thought to being a writer. I admired several writers, but if I thought about what I would do “when I grew up,” I figured I would be an aeronautical engineer or, later, a rock musician.

Aside from class assignments, my writing was limited to a few songs and quite a bit of poetry. Most of the poetry consisted of typical teenage angst and social criticism, as did the song lyrics. An English teacher persuaded me to give one short poem to the school newspaper as part of a class project. It was published, but I didn’t see myself as a writer. I felt more like I was just getting something off my chest, and otherwise didn't share my poetry. (The paper was the Milford [Ohio] High School Reflector.)

My first serious thoughts of writing were inspired a couple of years later by a fellow named Cary Sunderhaus. Cary and I had been friends off and on through most of high school. After graduation I moved out of Milford and we saw less of each other. But I still picked up the hometown weekly newspaper, the Milford Advertiser. One Friday I was scanning its pages when a familiar name caught my eye. There, beneath a headline about a golf tournament was the line, "by Cary Sunderhaus." When did he start writing?

I read the article, which was well-written, and thought, “This looks like fun. I'll bet I can do it, too!”

I’m not completely sure where that thought came from, but thus was born an urge to write and be read that continues to drive me today. It was supported by my having recently bought a cheap typewriter at a yard sale. I had no idea what I would do with it at the time; it just seemed like a good idea to own a typewriter. (I had taken typing in high school for the easy half-credit, finishing with a C-.)

And now I had a use for the typewriter.

Going from idea to publication was fairly easy, thanks to the fact that the paper’s editor, Leona Farley, was the mother of another friend, Mike Farley. If I hadn’t known her, I probably would not have approached the paper; I was seriously introverted.

But having a contact gave me confidence. All I needed was something to write about. Something timely and newsworthy ...

The subject came to me almost immediately: it was May, 1971, and everyone was complaining about a proposed increase in the cost of a First Class stamp, from six cents to eight cents. I would, I decided, write a public service piece about the issue. Pencil and notebook in hand, I went to the Milford Post Office, where I interviewed a clerk with whom I’d often spoken, and asked two customers what they thought about the increase. Armed with carefully copied quotes, I went home to tap out the story on the old typewriter. I kept in mind the “who, what, when, where, why” rules I’d once read about newspaper writing, but mainly my technique was to write and rewrite until the story “felt” right.

The next day I took my two-page manuscript to Leona Farley. She looked it over, made some corrections, and told me she would see if the paper could use it. Three days later I opened the paper to find myself in print!

There followed a few more stories for the Advertiser, after which I branched out with small pieces for other local weekly papers. Leona was encouraging, and helped me improve my writing with suggestions like, "If you're not sure you have the right word, replace it with its antonym. If you do that and the sentence says the opposite of what you wanted to say, you had the right word."

All of which helped prepare me for the next step: writing for national magazines. My first editor would have a role in that chapter of my writing career, too.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Getting Your Book Published

"I've been working on a book. How can I get it published?" This is a question I get asked a lot. After some discussion I usually learn that what the writer really wants to know is how she can finish the book, and whether there's any way to know if it's any good.

It happens that I'm teaching a course for the University of Cincinnati's Communiversity program starting next week, so I've been thinking about these matters a bit.

Rather than tackle how to write a book (certainly a subject for another posting), let's go to the main question: how does one get published? The short answer is that you write your (book, article, story) to completion, submit the manuscript to someone who might buy it (do your market research first), and if it's rejected send it out to another market. If it's returned with a note suggesting changes, by all means make those changes and resubmit.

In real life, it's not always that simple. Requests for changes will be rare. And rejections inspire questions, such as "How many rejections should I collect before I give up?" and "How do I know if my work needs changes?" Not to mention, "If I'm rejected does it mean my writing is poor?"

Let's examine each of those questions. (The answers I provide apply whether you're submitting a completed manuscript or a proposal. As for whether you should be submitting a proposal or completed manuscript, see my article in the November, 2006, issue of The Writer magazine.)

How many rejections should I collect before I give up?
Only you can answer this question. The first two short stories I published each went to seven magazines before they sold. My first book sold to the first publisher to whom I submitted it. The same thing happened with the first newspaper and magazine articles I wrote. My second book sold on its fourth submission. I have stories that I wrote and submitted eight or nine times, and never sold. And just today my newest book proposal was rejected. (I'll send it back out tomorrow.)

Obviously, persistence can be a good thing, but there is no set number of rejections. I know of an author who submitted his first novel 84 times before it sold. That's extreme, and I don't recommend that kind of persistence. It can be emotionally wearing, and an absolute waste of time. The time and effort you put into the 10th through 84th submissions might be better invested in writing a new novel, one that may have a good chance of selling because of what you learned writing the first book.

For my part, I figure five or six rejections mean that the manuscript needs work, or that it's hopeless. At that point I examine it to see what sorts of changes I might make.

How do I know if my work needs changes?
Most writers are not qualified to critique their own work--not immediately. Repeated rejection may be taken as an indication that the manuscript needs some changes, corrections, or improvements. But you can't be sure until you've been away from the manuscript for a while. Ideally, you will be working on another project while the manuscript is in circulation, and hence it will have been out of your thoughts for a while. At this point, when you have as objective a viewpoint as possible, you can judge whether the work needs changes, or if you should just keep submitting it. (Recognizing the changes you need to make is a subject for another posting.)

If you feel that you can't improve the manuscript, perhaps it's time to retire it for a while. A few months later you may find that the market has changed, or that your perspective with respect to that particular work has matured enough to enable you to see what might be wrong with it.

If I'm rejected does it mean my writing is poor?
This question, implied by the preceding one, is a tough one. Manuscripts are rejected for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with quality. There are almost as any reasons for a manuscript being rejected as there are for bad books getting into print. Here again, detailing those reasons is a subject for another post, but you should be aware that a rejection doesn't mean you should give up. It may hurt, and you may take it personally, but rejection is not necessarily a comment on the quality of your writing or the viability of your subject matter. Only repeated rejection, combined with the ability to critique your work after gaining some distance from it can tell you that.

A Solution?
If you have only one writing project going at a time, all the worry over rejection (not to mention the length of time it takes to get responses to submissions) can skew your judgment. Waiting six months to be rejected can shoot the hell out your confidence. So can going through several three-week waits followed by rejection.

To avoid this, don't put all your eggs in one basket. Work on more than one novel or story or poem or whatever at a time, and keep multiple manuscripts in circulation. When you do this, a given rejection will have far less impact. And when you hit writer's block, you will have an alternate project to tall back on, which means you won't compound the block with frustration over not getting any writing done.

Do I Need an Agent?
Looking back over this post, I see that I haven't said anything about agents. To answer the obvious question, you can sell a book without an agent. But it can help to have one--in terms of getting your manuscript in front of the right editors, getting a good contract, and in other ways.
(Do I have an agent? Right now, no. But I've agented for other writers.)

Recommended Reading
For lots of useful info on the book publishing business in general, read Another Life: A Memoir of Other People, by Michael Korda. Want to learn about agents and marketing? Read How to Be Your Own Literary Agent, by Richard Curtis.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Making the Bestseller Lists

Almost nothing turns out the way you might expect or want it to. A case in point: Between December 23 and January 7, CROSLEY: Two Brothers and a Business Empire that Transformed the Nation made the New York Times Bestseller List, the Wall Street Journal's hardcover nonfiction list, and the New York Times Hardcover Business Best Sellers list.

If you believe what you see in movies, you might expect me to be whooping it up--buying a new house and looking for a 1963 Jaguar XK-E coupe as I sign six-figure contracts and consider film offers.

Hardly. Little has changed, at least not on the professional and financial fronts. Neither editors or agents are contacting me with offers (though I'm open). I'm in the same nice little house, and still drive the mini-van with the trick transmission. My banker friend, Greg, is still waiting to recommend investments, and I'm putting off buying that 1958 Fender Precision bass.

Did I expect my bank account to suddenly swell to mammoth proportions, or that I would get calls from Hollywood? Truthfully, no. I've seen enough writers make bestseller lists and fade into obscurity to know that bestsellerdom isn't necessarily life-altering. Besides, these things take time. (Remember Cheops' Law: Everything takes longer and costs more.)

But what the heck--I never expected to even make one bestseller list, let alone two!

And some things have changed. Relatives I haven't heard from in years (and who once ridiculed my writing) are calling me. When I do a bookstore signing, scores or hundreds of people turn out instead of two or three. People who have seen me on TV or in newspapers congratulate me and enthuse over all the money I must be getting paid.

Most of them are so honestly happy for me that I hate to burst the bubble by explaining that it will be most of a year before even I begin to see any money from the book. That the publishing world has taken little notice of my name on the bestseller lists. That, aside from a box of books and a couple of neat shirts I haven't gained anything material from this.

Oh, certainly I had a book advance, but that was years ago, and I spent far more time writing the book than the advance warranted. (It's usually my practice to get a large enough advance to cover the time I put into a book. That way, if it doesn't earn royalties or sub-rights money I'm not disappointed. But CROSLEY was a special case. I'd been waiting decades to write this book)

Otherwise, publisher response is as slow as it ever was. I suppose I could speed up the responses by making a nuisance of myself, but that's no way to sell books. (Another aphorism comes to mind: If you press for an answer, you'll likely get the one you don't want.)

The lesson in all this is fairly straightforward: Public acclaim doesn't always translate to professional success. But it's all fun!
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Writers as Optimists

If there was a job description for writing for publication, optimism would head the list of required character traits. After all, what is more optimistic than writing a story or novel without any feedback, then sending it out to be judged by someone you've never met and who has too much to read, anyway? Only an optimist would seriously contemplate such an absurd act.

Before I started writing for a living I regarded myself as a pessemist. I was always looking at the negative side of things, worrying about what might go wrong next. But 20 years of fulltime writing has shown me that I'm a fulltime optimist. Without optimism, I’d never have made it for a year, much less 20! Late checks, impossible deadlines, canceled contracts and columns … any of these could have easily run my career right into a dead-end if I wasn't optimistic that things would get better through my continued efforts.

So far, it's worked out to be a self-fulfilling prediction.

--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com


Copyright © 2007, Michael A. Banks

Thursday, December 28, 2006

How Bad Books Get Into Print

Three chapters into the novel you bought yesterday you find that you just can’t go on reading it. The characters are wooden, the writing is stilted, and the dialogue is unbelievable. Viewpoints shift and the action leaps through time and space without benefit of transitions.

You know you can write better than this in your sleep. How did this mess get into print? you wonder. Did someone sleep with an editor, or what?

Actually, some books are published because the author slept with an editor (or a publisher). But that's not the only reason bad books see print. Sometimes a badly written novel slips into print because an editor has a vacant spot on her list and a writer friend or relative who needs work. And it has happened that a bestselling author falters (or doesn’t care any more) and turns out a poor novel that gets into print because of the author’s reputation. And although I don't know of any instances, I'm sure that bribery has gotten a few books into print.

Some questionable novels are “contract breakers,” poorly-written tomes intended to barely fulfill the terms of a publishing contract. The hope is that the publisher will reject the manuscript and release the author from her contract. An author may do this after signing a multiple-book contract with a publisher who proves to be less than proficient in the marketplace. A contract breaker may also be used to get around a common book contract provision that gives the author’s current publisher first refusal rights on his next book.
If the author is lucky, the publisher will drop the book. But the publisher might take the book anyway, in which case another bad book is born.

Why put such a book on the market? This may be done out of spite, or because the publisher figures the author’s name will sell the book.

A tight publishing schedule can also propel a contract breaker onto bookstore shelves. If the title is already scheduled for publication and there’s nothing available to replace it, the publisher has no choice but to put it out there.

All of which may seem illogical, but the nature of book publishing is such that most publishers would rather put out a bad book than miss a publishing date. Once a book is scheduled and announced, money is spent and irreversible processes are set in motion. At the very least, a publisher faces embarrassment by not releasing an announced book. But there are worse consequences to not fulfilling the expectations of distributors, wholesalers, and retailers, including but not limited to reduced orders on future titles.

Time-sensitive titles (such as movie tie-ins or books linked to news events) can also fall victim to publishing schedules. These books are often written on nearly impossible deadlines, and the quality reflects it. But agreements with studios or other entities require that the book be published by a certain date, and marketing often takes precedent over quality.

Many books are scheduled for publication before the author completes the manuscript, and it sometimes happens that what the author turns in is not what the editor expected. Still, the book is scheduled to go into production, and there’s no time to make changes. And so the disappointing manuscript becomes a disappointing book.

Then there are late manuscripts. For whatever reason, a novel isn’t ready when it’s due. So the editor puts out a call and grabs the first complete manuscript she can locate that fulfills the genre requirements of the missing work. The replacement may be of minimal quality, but the publishing slot is filled.

Finally, as you may suspect, some bad books are the result of poor judgment on the part of an editor or publisher. One or the other may be so enamored of an author's writing style that they are blind to its poor plot. Or maybe wishful thinking fools them into thinking that a really well-written book has substance that it lacks.

Obviously, just making it into print doesn’t mean a work is “good.” Remember that the next time a bad book makes you wonder if your own work is on the wrong track.
--Mike
http://www.michaelabanks.com
Copyright © 2006, Michael A. Banks