Everyone who works in Hollywood knows that no one ever says “no.” If an agent, manager or producer asks for your script but doesn’t like it, he rarely tells you outright. He’ll simply stop returning your calls or emails, or tell you it’s with his partner, or out to an actor, or they’re waiting to hear back from … someone. The conventional wisdom behind this is that no one wants to burn bridges. Your next script may be fantastic, the thinking goes, and therefore the agent/manager/producer doesn’t want to insult you by actively turning down this one. Apparently you’ll be so grateful at having been given the run-around that he’ll be the first person you’ll turn to with your next gem. (And yes, my use of “he” is deliberate.)
That’s how you can “die of encouragement” in Hollywood.
Thankfully, New York, where the literary agents live, plays by different rules. And I’d like to take this opportunity for a shout out for everyone there who has given me an unequivocal, no-doubt-about-it no:
To the agents who post on their websites that “if you don’t hear back from us after 6-8 weeks, it’s a pass:” Thank you for giving us a timeline and holding yourself accountable. A soft “no” is easier to hear than a hard “no,” and your timeline tells us exactly when we might hear from you, and when we know the material’s not right for you.
To the agents who reply “no” to a query: Instructions on a web site are enough. That you took the time to send a personal email to let me know that you read my query and pages, and they aren’t what you’re looking for, is very much appreciated. Yes, I can tell it’s canned language, but so what? I don’t have to wait eight weeks or wonder if the email got lost in spam or somehow overlooked.
To the agents who requested a partial and then sent the standard “pass” email: Thank you for letting me know where I stand with you. Yes, it’s disappointing that you were intrigued by my query but did not find the story or writing to be what you were looking for. Now I know it might be time for a rewrite, and to keep looking. You didn’t keep me hanging or wondering. Thank you.
To the agents who requested a partial and then sent a personalized “pass” email: Thank you so much for taking the time to craft a personal reply, letting me know exactly why the story didn’t work for you. I’m am so grateful you did this, even though you only looked at 50 pages or three chapters. I might not agree with all of your points, but I really appreciate that you reached out to give me your opinion. And some of your notes were absolutely spot on! I know you’re professional and thoughtful, and hope to have the chance to work with you someday.
To the agents who requested a full and then sent the standard “pass” email: Thank you for letting me know where I stand with you. Yes, it’s disappointing that you were intrigued by my query but did not find the story or writing to be what you were looking for. Now I know it’s time for a rewrite, and to keep looking. You didn’t keep me hanging or wondering. Thank you.
To the agents who requested a full and then sent a personalized “pass” email: Thank you so much for taking the time to craft a personal reply, letting me know exactly why the story didn’t work for you. I’m sad that you didn’t do this as an R&R letter, but honestly, if I agree with your notes, I’ll be doing a rewrite and querying you again anyway! Hope springs eternal, and your professionalism and thoughtfulness make me very eager to work with you. I’ll keep trying!
To the agent who requested a full, rejected it, and then read and rejected the rewrite: I thanked you personally, but I will do it again here: You were under no obligation to read it again after sending the standard pass. I am so grateful that you chose to read it anyway, and let me know that it still was not the right book for you. I envy those writers who have you as their representative! I still hope that someday we can work together.
To be honest, rejection hurts me just as much as any other writer. But what writer hasn’t received rejection after rejection? All of my literary heroes have stories of rejection letters tacked on walls or hidden in shoe boxes underneath their beds. Hard work and perseverance are just as important as talent in this business.
What these rejections tell me is that these agents see me as a professional. By sending along that “no,” they treat me as a mature, level-headed person trying to build a career in the publishing business. That unequivocal no means I am someone who is thick-skinned enough that she can take rejection, hear criticism, and keep writing and rewriting.
From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for that message.
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Self-Publishing versus Indie – One Author’s Story
One of the wonderful things about being a writer in 2016 is that being rejected by every agent and traditional publisher on the planet doesn’t necessarily mean shoving your novel into a drawer where it will one day be discovered by a great-grandchild after your death. (Although sometimes this is exactly where that manuscript belongs!) Thanks to the internet and Amazon revolutions, for the past few years, writers have had the choice to self-publish. And with several self-published writers going on to make big names for themselves (Hugh Howery), and well-known writers opting out of their traditional-publisher contracts to get their work directly to their readers, self-publishing no longer has the stigma that it did in the days of the vanity press. At the same time, independent publishing has also exploded. With the ease of print-on-demand and ebooks, many small companies – some run by self-published authors – have sprung up to take the editing, design, and marketing aspects out of the hands of authors whose stories aren’t big enough to attract traditional publishers, but don’t want all the hassles that come with self-publishing.
So if you’ve exhausted all traditional publication outlets but aren’t willing to let your book baby go unborn, what option is best for you? I currently have two books out: Keeping Score, and The Ties that Bleed. I self-published Keeping Score, which led me to publish The Ties that Bleed through an indie. I found out that there are just as many cons to indie publishing as self-publishing. I learned, basically, that the old adage is true: If you want something done right, do it yourself.
Yes, I was grateful that I had someone else design the book cover and prepare the text for formatting. However, the book designer was limited to creating covers that matched others that the publisher had released, and to certain stock photography. The resulting cover was nice, but not what I originally had in mind.
The publisher had me work with an editor, who went over a few logic points with me (such as, the room is too dark for her to see his face so clearly) and stressed that the publisher hated em dashes. She and I went over the manuscript several times, at which point it went to the typesetter. I made the mistake of assuming someone at the publisher would go over the formatting as carefully as the editor had. Wrong! The book was released with typesetting errors such as smart quotes being used interchangeably with straight quotes, paragraphs not being indented, and random italics. (I was never given the option of okaying a proof.) The reviewers I sent the book to, and people who’d bought it through Amazon, pounced all over these errors. It was humiliating.
I had had two different indie publishers vying for the book, and I chose the one that had been in business for several years and had a strong output. Their authors seem very loyal and excited to be part of the publisher’s family. However, that does mean that each individual book only gets a brief moment of attention from the publisher before the next one hits the presses. Perhaps a smaller one would have been more supportive.
Secondly, I had no input as to pricing or sales decisions. My book is only 200 pages long, yet the ebook is $5.99. I’m a voracious Kindle reader, but I rarely if ever download a book that is more than four dollars, and that’s only if it’s a famous author and a book I’ve been looking forward to. Otherwise, I’ll reserve it at the library or wait for it to go on sale. Who’s going to spend that much money on a book from an author she’s never heard of? Very few people.
Sales are at the heart of ebook marketing, yet I never heard back from any of my emails suggesting a sale, especially around Halloween. Occasionally the publisher announces that all books will be briefly discounted for a very short amount of time, but this comes way too quickly to take advantage of the book-sale newsletters that self-published authors use to get the word out on their books.
The admittedly unscientific result: While I have 56 reviews of KEEPING SCORE on Amazon (most written in the first few months after I published it), I only have 11 for THE TIES THAT BLEED.
I have the next four books in the TIES series planned out, but with paltry sales and few reviews (although most everyone who reviewed it asked for a sequel), it doesn’t look like writing the next one is worth my while. Yet most self- and indie- publishing experts agree that a series helps keep sales of all books high.
Obviously this is just my experience, and I know that many authors who published with this company are very happy. And they were very responsive about getting my book to CreateSpace and issues that cropped up later with the back cover. They allowed me to purchase print copies of the book at their price. Royalties are paid promptly. But my thinking that almost any publisher was better than going on my own – and that a strong, professional contract mean professionalism in every capacity – was obviously wrong.
My third book may end up in that drawer, after all.
So if you’ve exhausted all traditional publication outlets but aren’t willing to let your book baby go unborn, what option is best for you? I currently have two books out: Keeping Score, and The Ties that Bleed. I self-published Keeping Score, which led me to publish The Ties that Bleed through an indie. I found out that there are just as many cons to indie publishing as self-publishing. I learned, basically, that the old adage is true: If you want something done right, do it yourself.
Yes, I was grateful that I had someone else design the book cover and prepare the text for formatting. However, the book designer was limited to creating covers that matched others that the publisher had released, and to certain stock photography. The resulting cover was nice, but not what I originally had in mind.
The publisher had me work with an editor, who went over a few logic points with me (such as, the room is too dark for her to see his face so clearly) and stressed that the publisher hated em dashes. She and I went over the manuscript several times, at which point it went to the typesetter. I made the mistake of assuming someone at the publisher would go over the formatting as carefully as the editor had. Wrong! The book was released with typesetting errors such as smart quotes being used interchangeably with straight quotes, paragraphs not being indented, and random italics. (I was never given the option of okaying a proof.) The reviewers I sent the book to, and people who’d bought it through Amazon, pounced all over these errors. It was humiliating.
I had had two different indie publishers vying for the book, and I chose the one that had been in business for several years and had a strong output. Their authors seem very loyal and excited to be part of the publisher’s family. However, that does mean that each individual book only gets a brief moment of attention from the publisher before the next one hits the presses. Perhaps a smaller one would have been more supportive.
Secondly, I had no input as to pricing or sales decisions. My book is only 200 pages long, yet the ebook is $5.99. I’m a voracious Kindle reader, but I rarely if ever download a book that is more than four dollars, and that’s only if it’s a famous author and a book I’ve been looking forward to. Otherwise, I’ll reserve it at the library or wait for it to go on sale. Who’s going to spend that much money on a book from an author she’s never heard of? Very few people.
Sales are at the heart of ebook marketing, yet I never heard back from any of my emails suggesting a sale, especially around Halloween. Occasionally the publisher announces that all books will be briefly discounted for a very short amount of time, but this comes way too quickly to take advantage of the book-sale newsletters that self-published authors use to get the word out on their books.
The admittedly unscientific result: While I have 56 reviews of KEEPING SCORE on Amazon (most written in the first few months after I published it), I only have 11 for THE TIES THAT BLEED.
I have the next four books in the TIES series planned out, but with paltry sales and few reviews (although most everyone who reviewed it asked for a sequel), it doesn’t look like writing the next one is worth my while. Yet most self- and indie- publishing experts agree that a series helps keep sales of all books high.
Obviously this is just my experience, and I know that many authors who published with this company are very happy. And they were very responsive about getting my book to CreateSpace and issues that cropped up later with the back cover. They allowed me to purchase print copies of the book at their price. Royalties are paid promptly. But my thinking that almost any publisher was better than going on my own – and that a strong, professional contract mean professionalism in every capacity – was obviously wrong.
My third book may end up in that drawer, after all.
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