The Business of Books

There are two sides to writing if you are interested in being published. One side is up to you, and that is producing the story, poem, novel, or memoir that represents your best efforts and is rewarded with the great news that you are being published. The other side is cold, hard business - dark and seamy and filled with potholes and disasters - and those are the good things about the business side of being published.

When I was notified that my first novel was going to be published, I was thrilled. I had images of my book in print with my name on it and all kinds of accolades and bestseller status and . . .  so on. Likewise my second novel. Things were rolling and, even though I wasn't getting rich by any stretch of the imagination, I was proud of my work. Novel #3 was finished and sent off and I was told it would be published last November. And then communication came to a dead stop. Emails were unanswered. A Christmas gift was not acknowledged. No communication. This is the evil side of publishing; the business side over which writers have little control. So I made a decision based on the fact that communication had ended. I sent them a registered letter terminating my contracts. 

Now I am on the street again, seeking a publisher or an agent, tin cup in hand and singing "Mr. Bojangles" on street corners. Tough decisions are not always rewarded immediately, you know.

I do bite my thumb at Thee, sir.

As some of you may have noticed, I am a writer of self-admitted minimal success and enormous failures, but I still write. I think psychologists call that "self-injurious behavior." So be it.

Today's "Writing Wednesdays" blog is about a weird kind of retribution for all the rejections I've suffered from agents. When I research a literary agency, I review what each agent is interested in before deciding whether or not I should contact them. I wouldn't send a murder mystery to an agent who only handles historical non-fiction, for example. This is a standard process.

Now, I do the rejections, dumping agents that aren't appropriate for my work. "Take that!" I shout at the computer screen when I reject an agent. "How do you like that, you arrogant, elitist, literary snob!" Of course, they don't know I've rejected them; whereas, when they reject me I get it in writing or, even worse, silence.

This approach is recent, and I know it may fall short just a tad from reality. But therapy can take on many faces. I find comfort in it, but I suspect it is only temporary. Stay tuned for next week's "Writing Wednesdays" blog.

Writing Wednesday

I plan to dedicate a blog about writing on Wednesdays from now on, as much as possible. If you've been following curlylarryandme, you know that I'm a writer with some success and lots of failures. I have written more about rejections than anything else, because I'm an expert on being rejected, as is nearly every other writer regardless of publishing credits, or not.

Usually, when I query a literary agent I think would be a good match for me, they explain on their website, that they are busybusybusy people, and a bit self-important, too. Most of them have a tone of condescension, too. They say they receive 5,342 queries every day of their busybusybusy lives, and because of their level of busy-ness, they may not be able to tell you that you stink for a month or two. Or not at all. The "or not at all" attitudes are especially annoying. In other words, they are so busybusybusy they don't have time for good manners, common decency, or simple professionalism. 

So, when I sent off a query letter and a few sample pages to an agent who seemed to be a good match, I was a bit surprised to receive a polite, professional, and kind rejection email in, get this, 18 HOURS! Was my letter so terrible that the poor woman threw up and hit the REJECT AUTOMATIC REPLY that fast? I could not believe it. A first in decades of rejection letters. 18 HOURS!

When I told my astute Book Concierge, Rowe Carenen, she said not to worry, that the busybusybusy agent's "In Box" was probably full, triggering the response, and she probably never even saw the query letter and sample pages. That made sense. I tried again with another agent at the agency. That was a little over two weeks ago. No rejection. Yet. Maybe she's reading what I wrote. Maybe she'll be impressed. Maybe she won't. Might be too busybusybusy. I'll let you know when, and if, I hear from her.

In the meantime, keep writing!

Twittering Twitterer Twit

Growing up in Iowa, back when just a few of the smaller dinosaurs were still scurrying around shopping for sweaters, I thought a "tweet" was some kind of edible reward for being good, such as butter brickle ice cream or a  "black cow" at the A & W stand three blocks down North Second Street from where I lived. Now, I have been educated. Wikipedia defines "twitter" this way:  "Twitter is an online news and social networking service where users post and interact with messages, "tweets," restricted to 140 characters. Registered users can post tweets, but those who are unregistered can only read them."

So, why am I telling you this? Starting in April, I will be twittering all kinds of tweets for people interested in what I have to say. And I think all three of you will enjoy my profound insights into life, death, sports, food, books, and dating topics. There will be none on politics or religion. I will be offering up tweets as a shameless act of self promotion for my novels. Marketing experts agree that it is a good idea for writers. So in addition to my blog you are reading and new website at www.johncarenenwrites.com, there will be tweets.

I hope you will come looking for my tweets. I think you will be pleased.

See you in April!

Dismissed, Rejected, Moving On...

The Oxford English Dictionary defines "rejection" as "the dismissing or refusing of a proposal, idea, etc." To me, lately, there have been two kinds of rejection. The first came from the top literary agent at the top New York literary agency. It was a form letter in response to my sending a proposal for my new novel (not a Thomas O'Shea story). He explained that he receives 300 queries daily, and for some reason, mine did not grab his attention. Understood. I was confident he would not be interested, but it was worth a try.

He was one of twenty queries I sent out. He is the only one to respond, so I give him credit, even if the rejection was a form letter. The other queries did not even generate a form letter. They did not generate anything. And they were sent out in OCTOBER. I was simply ignored, like a fly that doesn't buzz. 

The other kind of rejection is self-rejection. My first two novels in the Thomas O'Shea series were published and I am proud of them. The third in the series is completed and in the hands of my publisher with their promise to publish it early this year. In the meantime, I've been working on the fourth novel in the O'Shea series. But I wasn't happy with it. I was forcing it. I was not enjoying writing it. And I had fifteen chapters completed that I did not like. So I "self-rejected" and deleted all but the first chapter after wrestling with various alternative story lines. And got back to work. Today, I finished the new second chapter and I am on my way. It is a relief, believe me.

If you're a writer, you know how one has to develop a thick skin to protect oneself from cold, heartless, form letter rejections. Or no response at all. And you have to be tough with yourself, too. Still, I find encouragement from this great writer.

This manuscript of yours that has just come back from another editor is a precious package. Don’t consider it rejected. Consider that you’ve addressed it ‘to the editor who can appreciate my work’ and it has simply come back stamped ‘Not at this address’. Just keep looking for the right address. – Barbara Kingsolver

Moving Right Along

Recently, I took my 12-years-old Honda Accord to the dealer to have a dead headlight and a failed brake light replaced.  The technician said it would take about an hour, so I just turned over the key, and retired to the customer waiting area, which had comfy sofas and chairs and a big screen TV.  I took with me some writing materials because I wanted to work on a few details for my fourth Thomas O'Shea novel, Of Mists and Murders, details I hadn't ironed out yet, in my iron head.

An older woman soon joined me, asked if I would care if she turned on the TV.  I was fine with that.  The lady, who looked like an octogenarian Hobbit, settled into a sofa and began watching "The People's Court," a show I had never seen before.  It was distracting, but I worked hard to ignore the peculiar people on the tube.  What was even more distracting was that the local advertisers for the show looked like twenty-something blondes with Barbie figures enhanced by implants.  And they were advertising for personal injury local lawyers.  Every single ad had the same kind of woman, whose feet never get wet in the shower, promoting one lawyer or another who really, truly, cared about me.

The aging Hobbit had zoned out, staring at the screen, mouth slightly open, nearly catatonic, taking it all in.  I fought off my tendency to be judgemental, ignoring the court cases, sneaking a peak at the commercials.  If I ever need a personal injury lawyer....

GOOD NEWS ALERT! I now have my very own website! From now on, you can catch my blogs and lots of other information about my work, and me a little, at www.johncarenenwrites.com.

For that, I am entirely grateful to my Book Concierge, Rowe Carenen, and David Garrison, genius website guru.  Come see!

Agent Unawares (For Now)

For all practical purposes, I have finished the "big" novel I've been writing to you all about.  Thirty-eight chapters ast it turns out, thoroughly reviewed, critiqued, and edited by my stellar book concierge, and studied by my writers group, "The Write Minds." I enjoyed writing the book, enjoyed the several revisions, enjoyed the outcome of the story that has redemption in it for a very troubled protagonist. Now the hard part sets in, the "corrosive self doubt" that I wrote about earlier that all writers feel.  It isn't any good.  It might be good but no one will want it.  Is it the best I can do?  Did I waste my time?  What will my 6th grade teacher at Hawthorne Elementary School in Clinton, Iowa think of it?

Something even harder begins now, and that - finding an agent.  I published my first two novels, and the third to come, without an agent.  So, why do I need an agent for this book?  Because there is a whole business side of publishing that I know nothing about and that my current publisher does not pursue.  How to push the book.  How to get rave reviews.  How to boost sales.  How to expand author's rights into foreign sales, getting into big bookstores, even movies.  How to, I tremble to mention this, how to make some money at my craft.

I have writer friends who have written wonderful novels and can't get published.  I have writer friends who got published but have made less than $500 in royalties over two or three years.  I have writer friends who despair and give up, but I'm not doing that.  I wrote a good book.  I hope to find an excellent agent who will boost my career.

I will keep you posted, dear readers.

Taking a Page from Stephen King

Some famous author once said that when a writer finishes writing their novel, a sort of depression sets in, not unlike the postpartum blues women suffer from right after having a baby. I can't relate to postpartum depression, nor can I say rightly that I get down after completing the last chapter of a novel.  you see, I just finished the last chapter to my work, a 97,000-word "upmarket commercial" effort.  And I did not get depressed.  What I wanted to do was immediately start revising, so I did, looking specifically for two of my blind spots - passive voice and "echo," a term we writers use to describe using the same important word twice within close proximity of each other.  That proximity blind spot can be annoying, a speed bump interfering with the reader's flow and proximity to a smooth narrative.

So I did that, weeding out my blind spots.  What's next, you may ask?

When Stephen King finishes a novel, he sets it aside for a month or more and does something else, such as going for long walks or watching Boston Red Sox games, or reading what other writers are publishing.

My urge was to get back to working on my fourth Thomas O'Shea novel, since the first two are published (Signs of Struggle 2012 and A Far Gone Night 2014) and a third (The Face on the Other Side) is scheduled for an early 2017 release.  So I plan to get after number four in the series, Of Mists and Murders.

I am a professional writer, so I have a compulsion to write, and I am itching to produce that next O'Shea novel, and it nags at me.  But first, I am going to follow King's example and take some time off, starting with a long road trip with my bride, watching college football on TV (especially my Iowa Hawkeyes), and enjoying the changing of the seasons leading into my favorite month - October.

I will, however, keep a notebook in close proximity at all times, just in case I need to jot down a piece of dialogue that comes to mind, a vivid setting, or a conflict among my characters I had not thought of previously.

So, no more blogs for a while, but please look to hear from me and my writer's journey when the leaves turn to gold and orange and red.

A Writer's Wednesday

In my previous offering, I wrote about what it's like, a little, as a full time writer. I also alluded to the fact that I was about to write the final chapter of my most recent novel, which would have been Chapter 35. Guess what? Well, I did finish the novel last night, but it was Chapter 37. Things happened that I didn't expect, including a blizzard and a puppy and a couple of scenes in a pub. If you're a writer, you know how that happens. If you're not, let me try to explain. People say, "How in the world can something can happen in a story you, the author, are writing, and how can you be surprised? Aren't you in charge? This doesn't make any sense!"

They're right and wrong. Yes, I am the writer and I am in charge, and responsible for, what I write. But no, I'm not surprised when something happens I didn't plan on happening. How does that happen? Well, if I'm writing regularly, and I'm talking about several pages or even a full chapter, then the story sort of writes itself, in a sense because the story is happening inside my head, and things can intrude - scenes, dialogue, action - that I didn't plan. I do not outline. I do not write the last chapter first. I don't even know how the novel is going to wind up when I start. In this case, I did know that there would be redemption at the end, but that was it. How was that going to happen? Don't ask me. I can't answer the question.

So, how does it feel to have finished? It's good and bad. It's good because I've accomplished what I set out to do. It's bad because it's over, the relationships I have with the characters and the story. What's next? I'll set it aside for a while, several weeks maybe (Stephen King sets his aside for three months), but I'll still be thinking what I'm going to do to make it better. I'll get ideas, I'll jot notes, I'll answer questions that should have been answered in the book (why does that guy bite people instead of say hello?) and so forth.

In the meantime, I am going back to Of Mists And Murders, #4 in the Thomas O'Shea series set in fictitious Rockbluff, Iowa, which is what I was working on when the idea for this other novel shoved its way into my schedule. In other words, when I finish writing something, I write something else. Grand, isn't it?