Let's Dance!

[Okay this post is technically recycled, but the blog it was featured on is no longer around. So pretend its new.]

Come, sit around the campfire. I will tell you something I learned from a million years ago when I used to work in acquisitions (meaning, I read slush and sent rejection letters and hurt preshus feelsies).

Submissions is like dating.

Really, guys, stay with me here.

Submitting a book to a publisher is like asking someone to the prom. Your success is dependent on a number of factors, only a few of which you have real control over.

Would you walk into a room and ask out every person in there in the hopes of getting one to say yes? Um, you could, but that's not very effective. Everyone would see what you're doing.

This is why I advise people to customize their query letters, and not CC the submission to each and every publisher on their list at the same time. Yeah, sure, I know you're going to ask all those other people to the prom. But I'd sure like to feel like you at least know my name.

So now you're staring at this room of really pretty people. Okay, they're not all pretty. Some are ugly, but they'll be your back up choice. Do you just randomly ask them all out? Or do you wait and listen? Most are looking for a very particular kind of date, and if you spend some time around them, you'll learn what they want.

If you browse any publisher's catalogue, you'll learn what they're interested in. If you pay attention and follow agents on Twitter, you'll figure out pretty quickly what it is they like in a book, and what I don't. There's no big mystery. They often blog in detail about what makes them take certain books.

Now you've settled on a few possibilities for this prom date. You're both into the same things. You're exactly what they're looking for in a date, and they're totally hot. Now is when you run over and beg them to date you! Apologize for the fact that you live in a basement and have never dated before in your life, and don't bother combing your hair or anything.

Um, or you could clean yourself up and approach them respectfully.

First impressions count. You need simple cover letter, not long and rambly, that contains all the information they need to know about your submission. You don't need your life story in there. This isn't a discussion of marriage--this is a DATE, so to speak.

If someone you ask out says no...well, just tell her she's an idiot! You don't need her anyway! Like you even wanted to date her in the first place--ha! You'll just go...date yourself. That's the NEW way dating works--people just date themselves. Plus, she's kinda funny looking. You should tell her that too, and point out that other guy over there who's way hotter and just tell her that he's already accepted you anyway.

Or you could beg and plead. That'll work. Ask your friends to call her at all hours of the night and tell her what a GREAT prom date you'll make! Maybe if she just knew you better.

And you could ask her a bunch of times why she won't date you. Is it your hair? Your clothes? Is she not into your gender? Is it your breath? Oh, she must tell you why! And if she doesn't, maybe she just doesn't mean it. Maybe you should just tell her that you're going to the prom together no matter what.

Um...alternatively, you can thank her for your time and move on.

Listen, kids: no means no, and yes means yes. I've dealt with all of the above. None of it is attractive to a potential publisher, save the last point.

It sucks major hairy goat ass to be rejected. I know. So you go cry to your friends, then go out and do it all over again.

You're going to write another book someday (I hope, and if you're serious). So you may decide to query this publisher again. The rejection was definitely not personal. Don't burn your bridges. If you yell at everyone who rejected your first book--which, just maybe, wasn't the best thing you're ever going to write--do you really think they're going to take an unbiased look at your second?

Bridges. They are of the good. Don't set them on fire, or you'll have nowhere to go and you'll be dancing by yourself at the prom.

When you're dealing with a publisher, treat him or her like someone you want to date. Be respectful. Don't come on too strong. Present the invitation to the prom, but remember there are a lot of other people asking and don't take it personally if she declines your invitation.

Are We There Yet?

So many new authors rush. I know this because, of course, I did. Hurry, hurry, I finished a book finally. Send it out, out, out. I hope I learned my lesson on that count, but you know, I still get that jittery, anxious flutter to be submitting.
A few weeks ago I ran into something of the opposite problem, and it caught me by surprise. Considering that I'm a low on patience kind of gal, it hadn't really occurred to me that someone could have too much of the stuff.

I've been doing writer's workshops and also a lot of beta reads for friends and other authors that I've met. We have an active writer's group, and our goal is always on getting the work ready to go out. Out, into the wide, blue world where the readers live.

But at this last writer's workshop I had the pleasure of critting for gentlemen whose stories I've done a few times now, and who always entertains the shit out of me. He writes well. Sure, he has a few errors here and there and we always find something to critique...that's what crit groups are for. Still, I just assumed he was taking the feedback, applying it to the story, fixing it all up and sending it on its merry way...out, into the...you get it.

Except he's not. He's putting them aside and trying again. He asked me the oddest question too, and the thing is still nibbling away at me. He said, "when do you know you're ready to start subbing?"

My answer was terribly in-eloquent. I think I choked on my coffee and sputtered, "you're not subbing?!!"

He isn't, and despite my charming response, I don't think he has any plans to in the future. But....but...he's so good. Also, he's professional, polite, and cares about his craft. He is focused on improving and can take feedback.

And I have to ask myself, why is it that the authors you want to work with are hesitant and the ones who are rude, impatient and convinced of their own brilliance don't even question if the should be sending out their work? They send send send. But this person, who writes a brilliant tale, has a drawer full of stories I'd want people to read that will not get sent out because there were some comma glitches? Egad!

Now I feel like banging my head on desk. I want to inject him with confidence serum or something, but of course, I know he's not alone. I know intellectually that you have to believe in yourself enough and your story enough to jump off that cliff--and it's not easy (it shouldn't be). But the idea of that drawer of stories still haunts me.

Be brave, authors. Certainly be humble too, tread professionally and without a sense of entitlement, yes. Work on your craft. Read the how not to be a douchebag articles, etc. But please go forward! Save your stories, repair them, shine them up and SHARE them with the world.  Or try, at least. It cannot hurt to try.

It will hurt to find that drawer years later and wish you'd been a little braver. It hurts me now, just thinking about it. If you're getting the feedback (not from Mom, sorry) that you're stories are worth sharing...do them a favor and share them.

No lost stories. (putting that on a T-shirt or something)
~Frances