Definitions for the Perplexed: Proofs

So once the galleys have been around and around enough to have worked out all the kinks, the designer will create a version of galleys that incorporates the guidelines the printer (which is usually in China) will need in order to know where to cut the pages (etc). This last set of galleys are called mechs, short for mechanicals. These are sent to the printer, and the next thing the publisher will see is proofs.

Proofs are an example of the book, printed on the big professional printing presses (but not bound), and this is our chance to make sure the alignment of the printing, the page trimming, and the color is correct. It is not the time to decide you like the word "harassed" better than "irritated" on page 42. Changes to the text will require your publisher to send a whole new digital file to the printer, add another round to the proofs, and the printer will charge the publisher more money. Like, hundreds of dollars, potentially.

When To Suggest Changes in the Bookmaking Process:

One sincerely hopes that you've made any big, plot-type changes in the draft/revision process with your editor. Which comes before galleys.

Once you're in galleys, the important thing to remember is that every change to entire blocks of text has to be made, checked, and finessed by design and CE (copyedit) to be sure there are no widows (a lonely line at the top of a page), orphans (a lonely line at the bottom of a page), lines that are too loose or tight (ie, in the spacing between words), and no text accidentally left out or duplicated. It's a lot of work, and for people who already have a lot of work to do. The designer and copyeditor will feel like killing someone, and since the author is not nearby, they'll focus on the editor.

1st galleys:
Fixes to the spelling/punctuation? Lay it on! Let's get everything right.
Stuff accidentally left out, etc? Great, that's what first galleys are for.
Fiddling with word choice? Sure thing. Just not too much of that, ok?

2nd galleys:
Fixes to spelling/punctuation? Oops, we missed that. Thanks for noticing.
Other issues? Try to minimize this, huh? That's what 1sts were for.

3rd galleys/Final Corrections:
See the term "final corrections"? Yeah, this had better be the last little bits.
Ideally, this is not a chance to make changes, but simply to be sure the changes from 2nd galleys were made as intended.

Mechs
Leave it alone! (Though text changes in mechs are still better than text changes we have to make in proofs.)

1st proofs
Color corrections? Great! That's what proofs are for.
Text changes? These had better just be correctness changes (in the event we missed a typo in galleys), not stylistic ones.

2nd proofs
Color corrections? This had better be important.
Text changes? No.

3rd proofs
Changes of any kind: What are you, fucking nuts?

Definitions for the Perplexed: ARCs

The marketing team will send the advance reading copy (ARC) to reviewers and booksellers so that everyone has a chance to see what they think of the book before it's officially released. I can recall reading the first Harry Potter in ARC form.

Because marketing grabbed the first galleys in order to make the ARC, ARCs are sometimes called bound galleys, or galleys for short.

This gets a little bit confusing, because often if a bookseller or marketer speaks of a galley, they mean an ARC. But if an editor or designer speaks of a galley, they mean the print-outs routing around the offices.

The author and illustrator will be exposed to both kinds of galley, and will need to keep them straight.

Another thing to remember about ARCs is that they're expensive. Now, if you've ever seen one, you'll have a hard time believing this. They're paperback. They're on cheap paper. There are no special effects like shiny foil or embossing or whathaveyou. The binding is the crappiest kind of glue, which will fall apart after two or three readings.

But the reason they're expensive is that the publisher prints so few of them. A normal hardcover book gets a print run in the thousands (perhaps tens of thousands) of units, and has a PPB of between $1 and $2. An ARC (however crappily-made) has a print run in the hundreds, and has a PPB of three or four times that.

So galleys are not like buckshot loaded into a shotgun, meant to be fired in the general direction of marketing opportunities. They are sent to the people who will very likely make a difference in the sales numbers. Try to remember this before you suggest that your publisher send you a couple hundred to pass out to your friends.

Definitions for the Perplexed: Galleys

Once upon a time, printers used printing presses that really pressed a sheet of paper against rows of inked type. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, google it.) The individually-cast letters of the alphabet, made out of lead, were carefully set in rows to make the words and sentences and paragraphs that would be printed.

These rows of loose type were arranged in a wide, shallow, wooden box called a galley, after the wide, flat sailing vessels.

It is from this antique way of printing that we inherit several terms, galley among them. (Also leading, the space between lines of type, and kerning, the space between letters.)

Nowadays when we say galley we mean the first earnest effort (ie, not the cast-off) of the designer to lay out the text and illustration of a book.

Galleys are printed out for routing among the publisher's staff on the designers' office printer. The color is not great. There are typos. The designer has forgotten to add the author's bio on the back flap. The copyeditor hasn't gotten her hands on it yet. Etc.

Now we reach a crossroads.

The editorial, design, and production team will continue on with three or four rounds of galleys to gradually fix all the errors, omissions, and disagreements before sending the book to the printer.

The marketing team, though, will grab the very first layouts --if it is a novel-- and whisk it off to a printer to produce ARCs (advance reading copies).

Definitions for the Perplexed: Cast-off

Let us begin at the beginning.
Well, actually, let us begin somewhere in the middle.

When the designer has the text and the art for a book (or just the text, if there will be no important art presence), she goes into her fancy design software and lays out the text and the illustration together in approximately the way it will appear in the book.

I say "approximately" because she isn't going to spend a bunch of time finessing the details--this is just the cast-off (or prelim layouts). In a longer book, she won't do more than a few pages.

Then she'll show this to the editor, so that they can make some decisions together: what typeface will suit the book's mood and function best? How are the illustrations or chapter heads going to be treated? Do they like this little ornament on the page edge, or would this one be better? etc. Different book, different questions.

Authors and illustrators often won't see a cast-off, and in some books' cases, a cast-off doesn't happen. In those cases, the designer goes straight to galleys.

The Joy of Layoffs

Know how editors have too much work and too little time?

Well, if your editor is at a house that laid off some of her colleagues, that house might have canceled some projects.

But more likely, the house just gave the remaining editors even more titles to look after.

So if you're not hearing from your editor even more than usual, it's because she's paralyzed by workload panic and hiding under her desk.

FYI.

Definitions for the Perplexed

Pubrants recently blogged about co-op, which is a fine publishing tradition that bugs the hell out of everyone except B&N and Borders.

It would not have occurred to me to blog about co-op. But the comments found the topic fascinating! Which makes me wonder what other publishing terms you guys would find interesting. PPB? P&L? Advance sales? Sell-in? Earn-out? Bookscan? Refurbs?

The mind boggles. Can you really be interested in this stuff?

Agents and "Agents"

Do publishing houses that require submissions to come through agents read all agented submissions, even from agents who are new in the business and who may not be known to the editor? Or do editors see a package that claims to be from an "agent," check it against some actual or mental list, and discard it if they do not recognize the name? I imagine, of course, that some agents command more attention than others, but do all agents, even unknown ones, at least get their client's foot in the door?

Yes and no.

I do sometimes check agents against the list called Preditors and Editors, if the agent is sending me unapologetic dreck of genres my house doesn't even publish. (Major red flag.) That is bullshit agenting, whether the agent is legit or scamming.

Likewise when we get something through the front desk beginning, "Dear Editor." Agents are supposed to be doing their damn homework and knowing who to send a manuscript to at a particular house. "Dear [Publishing House]" means that the agent knows zipola about the industry, and even less about being a good agent.

And simply claiming to be an agent is not enough. We've seen enough jackass authors pretend to be their own agents that we're well wise to that trick. Also if you're pretending your lawyer is your agent. (No, he's not.)

But in general we try to reply courteously to agented submissions, even if we haven't heard of the agent. The unknown ones are certainly low-priority, though.

Living Is Optimism

Hi! I have a question, and I'm not trying to be funny, I swear. I've noticed that editors often use words like "tomorrow" and "by Friday" and "next week" (in reference to when I should expect an offer, or a production schedule, or a set of proofs, or whatever). It virtually never does come tomorrow or Friday or next week, and generally, these promises are followed by months of radio silence.
I know editors are insanely busy, but what puzzles me is, if things always take a great deal longer than expected, why do they keep on specifying "tomorrow" or "by Friday" or "next week"? Why don't they say "sometime in the next three months" if that's what's most likely?

I know all about this, having been guilty of it myself. And I look at my coworkers, and see a lot of myself in them. So in the spirit of self-awareness, I'm going to share something really true about editors:

1. Editors are almost always smart people who know how they want the world to be.
2. There's a little OCD running around in the make-up of many editors, and plenty of over-achiever-ship.
3. Editors are constantly saved and undermined by their optimistic natures.

So we know clearly what we think we ought to be able to promise people (point 1), and we very much want to promise it to them (point 2), and we will promise it to them (point 3).

And to be fair, we come through on a lot of our promises-- but we come through most on the promises to the projects that are not only signed up but whose late schedules/emergencies are screaming like hungry children.

The promises we do not come through on nag at us and make us feel guilty. I understand your plea for realism in projected dates, but realistically? If I told someone I would get back to them in three months, my brain/workstyle would categorize that task as too far in the future to keep track of, and forget about it entirely. If I told someone I would do something in three months, it would not happen.

And I suppose that when I think hard about how long everything takes--and how fast it all goes by for me (it's February?! Where did January go? Where, for that matter, did November and December go?! It still feels like fricking October to me!), the truth is that I'm a little terrified that if I started being honestly realistic with myself, I would realise that this is an impossible job; a treadmill that will always go a bit faster than I can run; a black hole in my life that is sucking everything-- including eating and sleep, not just hobbies and any kind of outside life-- into itself.

So I'm not going to. I'm at work this morning, and I'm glad to be. I have a challenging, creative job in children's books--doing something that matters to me. I'm going to follow through on at least one promise today. And deal with at least three emergencies. And try like hell to get back to several agents.

And if my best is never, not once in my whole career, quite enough, I will at least know that I did my best, all the time, and that is enough.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Norrell

In your experience which is better: two shorter fantasies that follow a similar time line, each complete in themselves (a sci-fi example would be Ender's Game and Ender's Shadow), or a great fat novel that included all the story lines at once?

I've read that publishers want to know they'll have more than one book out of an author, but from the stuff I see on the shelf lately it seems big books are quite popular too. (I ask, of course, because I'm working on a project that has reached the point when I have to choose which way I'm going).

I think that preference is going to vary per editor and house. More likely, the editor will prefer two books (more revenue), but in terms of what you write, you shouldn't base this decision on what a hypothetical editor wants. Do what will serve the story and your audience best.

Goddamned Poets. Always Thinking They're So Artistic and Poetical... Why, In My Day...

I was wondering if I could pick your big brain about novels in verse...Specifically YA novels in verse. I have only just discovered them and have read some knockouts. (I Heart You, You Haunt Me, Far From You, and What My Girlfriend Doesn't Know).

What are your feelings about novels in verse? Is there a market for them right now?

They're cool, but can be harder to sell. A wide segment of the population is vaguely (or even pointedly) suspicious of poetry. This makes little sense to me personally; I think poetry is wonderful. But you can't discount it.

Some people look at poetry and see that it can serve a more focused approach toward language; it can be fun; it can be beautiful; it can be moving; and as it takes up more space than it does time, it can be very accessible to kids who don't want to sit through a whole novel.

But other people don't know what to think about poetry. Why doesn't it just speak and/or format itself like normal writing? (Is it because the author is pretentious and thinks she's better than me?) Why is there all this damn white space on the pages? (Is it because the author is lazy and didn't want to write a whole novel?) Why is some of this stuff so oblique, forcing me to think about it or even guess at what it means? (The only reason an author would want to say something in a way that the reader can't follow is if the author doesn't like the reader, right?)

So many people end up suspecting (or even feeling quite sure) that writers of poetry are pretentious, lazy jerks who dislike the people who read their poetry. These people need a gentle welcome to the idea of a novel in verse.

How edgy can they be?

YA is getting edgier and edgier. As long as it's not edgy for the sake of edgy, I say go for it.

Should they be in first person?

Who cares?

What is the general word count?

Ask Amazon.

How do I format the thing when Word wants capitals and proper punctuation?

Good question. Do your best.

As Ursula Nordstrom Said, "No, I Don't Have Any Children. But I Was a Child, and I Haven't Forgotten a Thing."

In Fear and Loathing in Children's Books you made a comment about writing for the group you identify most with, and the need to recognize where that is as quickly as possible. Could you expand on that? And what about people who write for more than one age (especially as their children pass through those ages they're writing for)? Is that an example of reading producing like? (Assuming here the writer is reading to his/her children.)

Some authors seem to have a fairly specific internal age; very likely it's the age they remember best from their own childhoods. When they write for this age, it sounds right; it feels right. Their characters' thoughts and speech and action feel inimitably their own, which comes both from the author's deep empathetic connection to the characters, and from the respect that empathy engenders.

There are other authors who seem to have vivid memories of a great deal of their childhoods, and can write empathetically and respectfully for a wide range of ages.

And then there are authors who, no matter how much they love their own children, cannot truly remember what it was like to be a child at all, and so should not be writing for children. This state leads to the earnest, kind, well-intentioned, and utterly disrespectful talking at children rather than to them.


People who remember childhood well not only remember how they thought and felt at a particular age; they know that in a profound way, children and adults are equals.

Because we are all equally human.

Today's Easy Question

I don't have a compter or typewriter at home and my handwriting is pretty good. Is there a reason I should go out of my way to type my manuscritp before sending it to publishers.

Well, most people would respond, "Because it's more professional," but... that's not the reason.

The only handwritten manuscripts publishers get are from children and incarcerated felons.

That's the reason.

I Don't Know Why I Love You Like I Do

Why won't publishing houses treat published authors (by that I mean published by top houses such as Penguin Putnam, Harper Collins, Houghton Mifflin, etc.) different than slush?

Have you ever read something by a very well-known and well-respected author and thought, "How did that get published? Sheesh, some of his/her books have been great, but this is tripe"?

Aha. That's nothing compared to the ones that aren't getting published.

One of the most surprising discoveries young publishing professionals make upon finding a chair on this side of the desk is how many well-known, well-respected authors are totally incapable of telling when they've written something good and marketable, and when they really, really haven't. I have personally rejected dozens of manuscripts from an author I thought the world of when I was a young reader. Now I know how many ideas he/she goes through to find one that works.

That's why.

Should a published author try to get an agent even if they would rather do the submitting themselves?

Ah... maybe? One of the best things an agent can offer you is his/her contacts within the industry, which is why he/she does the submitting. But maybe you have contacts. In that case, an agent also offers you an insider's understanding of how the industry works, what to look for in contracts, and can be an intermediary when you and your editor disagree strongly. If you can find an agent whose personal style suits you, an agent can be a tremendous blessing.

Is it foolish for someone like me to still be submitting through the slush pile and resisting getting an agent? I have heard things about agents that make me wary.

Not foolish, no. But my advice would be to look hard for an agent-- one who suits you and your needs. You should be wary--there are some agents who are No Good. And there are other agents who are Fabulous, but who would be No Good for you.

Why? Why?

Honestly, I'm curious. Are there any self-publishers here?
If so, why did you chose to self-publish? Are you satisfied with how that worked out?

I mean, I met a guy who had self-published a yoga/meditation board book boxed set (yes, 1. meditation 2. board book 3. boxed set), and now has approximately 3,000 of them filling his garage. He'd like to get rid of them, but can't find anyone willing to buy them.

And I've blogged on this topic several times, but nevertheless I see people on the net who when faced with the unlikelihood (or uncertaintihood) of publishers wanting to publish their Fantastic Whatever, think: "That's ok; I'll self-publish."

And I think, Why?
Answers are welcome.

On the Importance of Reading Legal Documents

With magazine sales, there's the original idea and then there's spawn, the tweaked idea that finds a niche in other magazine markets. Can you do the same thing with children's books? I have a non-fiction manuscript with an educational publisher, but I have also written a separate fictional story using the information I gleaned from writing the non-fiction piece. Is it all right to shop it around too? I feel like I'm double-dipping...

When you say "I feel like I'm double-dipping", do you mean:
"I read my contract and am concerned that the non-compete clause would make this course of action legally precarious and could cost me thousands of dollars when both publishers demand I return their advances"?

Or do you mean:
"I've made the educational publisher aware of the fictional manuscript I've written on the topic and of my intention of trying to sell it elsewhere, and they've given me their blessing (in writing). And when I submit it elsewhere, I'm making very clear to other publishers that I wrote a nonfiction book on the same subject for an educational publisher and am including all pertinent details about that book (isbn, price, pub date, publisher)"?

What Evil First Pages Clinic?

I don't know anything about an evil first pages clinic.

I don't know why I'm even mentioning it. Maybe Inauguration euphoria.

The Interminable Syllables of Slush

Hello,
There’s a new book for kids who stutter that is really making some noise. The book is titled [redacted], and it’s about a little squirrel who stutters and how his disability affects his life and those around him. The reviews and endorsements for this book are fantastic, and rightfully so. I would highly recommend it to your readers. For parents who have children that stutter, this book is a must have. You can read about it on the home page of The National Stuttering Association, and Speechpathology.com. Both links are listed below. The reviews can be found at the end of the article on The National Stuttering Association link.
Thank you and best wishes.

Dear Reader,

No thank you.

Sincerely,
EA

Humor for the Publishing Enthusiast

No clue how books get made, edited, and marketed?
This video will not help.

Lost in the Wilderness of Slush

Dear Editor,
I am looking for an investor/publisher who will pay me for a genuine survivors wilderness story. My intentions are to live in the wilderness alone. Write daily logs of my activities, discovery's, and challenges. Send the logs directly to the investor/publisher as the owner to the rights of all logs, blogs, and face book activities. I propose to stay in the wilderness for a period of one year. The place of wilderness can be the investors/publishers choice or mine, However the Wilderness venture will be a true wilderness experience, nothing less than survivor in the rough. Can you lead me to someone with the interest for this adventure or give the interested party my email for communication purposes. What is the feasibility of this operation for success. My email is [redacted]. My surface profile can be found at [redacted]. Please pass this on.

Dear Reader,

No thank you.

Sincerely,
EA

There Are No Stupid Questions (guffaw!)

A few days ago, I noticed that Yen Cheong has come up with a list of New Year's resolutions for Other People, which I cannot approve of enough. Other People need severe improvement.

One of the resolutions is "Stop Asking Stupid Questions", in which "stupid" is defined, and which topic can be rephrased, "I Don't Care Whose Email You Have or Who You're Standing in Front of at a Conference; Spend Your Own Time Before You Spend Someone Else's." Yay!

And then I saw that Nicola Morgan has compiled a list of stupid questions, all of which I heartily concur with her about. Go sisterhood of snarky bloggers!

You know as well as anyone that I sympathize about the fact that there's a great deal to know about this industry. And there's plenty of information that isn't readily available in several places on the internet. Both are reasons I have this blog.

But there's plenty of information that is readily available. Information Google is dying to give people, if only those people would spend some time with Google, and maybe buy it dinner first.

I'll spare you my fantasies of beating idiots with a conference schedule when they sabotage the conversational opportunities of others with questions of this ilk, because those people are not generally readers of this blog.

Instead, you are my army. I empower you, my Anonymati, the bearers of information and common sense, to go abroad into the world kindly taking nitwits in hand and attempting to bring them into the fold.

You know the depth of ignorance and knuckleheadery which lurks in slush and which occasionally peeks its head out at conferences and SCBWI meetings. You, my valiant soldiers, hold the sword with which this monster can be killed, or at the very least soundly heckled. You may also be holding the conference schedule with which this monster can be peevishly whapped.

Either way, make me proud.

Oh! And read this, too! Brilliant. Thanks to Sarah for the link.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.

I need to redecorate every six months or so. Good thing I have so many books.

If You Receive an Airborne Contaminant in the Mail... Is It Potpourri?

Regarding envelopes and address labels, does it really matter if we tri-fold our query and/or short manuscript versus sending flat in a larger envelope?

No. As long as we're talking about no more than about five pages. Past that, it takes such force to fold them that they will not unfold fully on our desks.

Does it really matter if we very neatly hand write the addresses on the envelope versus using printed labels?

No. As long as "very neatly" does not mean "give it your best shot". If you sometimes write things down quickly and later cannot read your own handwriting, that means you have terrible handwriting all around, and should use a computer for all your business correspondence.

As long as what's inside is neatly typed and professional-looking, do editors care what the envelope looks like or if there is a fold or two in the pages?

No. As long as an SASE is reasonably tidy, fits the manuscript, and is easy to use, nobody cares what else it is.

What editors are trying to avoid are:

1. Envelopes of any size folded so many times that they refuse to unfold fully, so that stuffing them becomes a job for three hands.

2. The manuscript and/or SASE that have been stapled together (extra irritation points for stapling them through the stamps). I should not need a special tool to separate your ms from the envelope, nor have to spend time repairing your envelope where the staple tore it.

3. The two-hundred-page manuscript with the leeetle envelope clearly meant for a greeting card. If I need origami skills to figure out how to put my A4 letterhead into your envelope, we're both out of luck.

4. The SAS box-within-a-box to hold your treasured oversize archival scrapbook presentation, plus ribbons and glitter. I know your picture book proposal is special to you. But if it isn't special enough on plain paper, it's never going to be special enough to publish.

5. The manuscript and/or SASE that is dirty. Why is it dirty? Who knows? All I know is: the only way to disinfect paper is to recycle it.

6. The manuscript and/or SASE that smells. I don't care what it smells of.
(a) If you are a chain smoker or have one in your home, make a copy of your manuscript at Kinkos and ship that copy from the same Kinkos. Paper absorbs scents. You can't smell it, but your manuscript reeks.
(b) If you have a penchant for incense, ditto. If I never get another sandalwood-scented pile of paper, it'll be too soon.
(c) Do not spray your favorite perfume on your manuscript. Have you noticed how your favorite perfume is not everyone's favorite perfume? There's a reason.
(d) And for god's sake, don't pack your manuscript in potpourri. This is the slush equivalent of hazardous waste. I will personally hold the fire door open so that the intern doesn't have to break stride as she runs it down to the dumpster.

The Outrage Continues

Regarding the legislation of lead testing in children's products.

How does this affect libraries, I wonder? Are they allowed to check books out to children without a lead (and possibly phthalates) testing certificate for each one? Most library collections have a great many older books.

While the article above does have a certain hysteric tinge to it, one can hardly fail to wonder whether legislators thought to ask anyone in the book/children's product industries just what practical effects their laws would have. You know, in case the laws wouldn't just be bad for the bad guys.

Thanks to Kris for the link

But Wait! There's More! Act Now and You'll Receive a Free Lingering Sense of Having Been Had!

I've stumbled across the ABC's children's Picture Book Competion. Is this a legit contest? There is a $55.00 entry fee and the winner is supposed to get a publishing contract. I couldn't find the book that won the first competition but the second winner was listed on Amazon. I'd love to know your thoughts on this.

It looks barely better than self-publishing to me. I wouldn't expect the book that is published under this arrangement to earn back the $55 you spent on entering.

And Preditors and Editors recommends against it, which is good enough for me.

The Anonymati Have It

So I'll be expecting some evil hooded robes, or at least t-shirts. And evil secret society meetings (at B Flat, for instance) with evil cocktails. I'll bring the evil beernuts.

Pronunciation: uh-non-uh-MAH-tee

Link in the sidebar.

This Is My Diploma in Higher Math, and This One Is for My Study of Arboreal Squid. So You Can See I'm Qualified.

I appreciate the help you provide with queries, and I feel I have a pretty good grip on the nuances of the first few paragraphs because of you. What stumps me is the paragraph where I am to provide my credentials. Other than some technical/promotional writing here and there, poetry published in the local paper, and a blog not at all related to children's literature, I have nothing to put in that paragraph.

What do you recommend the unpublished author state about him/herself in that paragraph that won't disqualify his or her skills as a writer?

This is not the first time I've had this question, and it makes me think that the people (myself, perhaps, included) who talk about query letters are not making this clear enough: include credentials if you have them.

If you don't and

(a) You're writing fiction: who cares?
The only real qualifications for writing fiction are the (many) abilities of writing and an imagination.

(b) You're writing nonfiction: who cares?
The only real qualifications for writing nonfiction are the (many) abilities of writing and a high standard in quality of research. Some people have the starch for this, and some people can't be bothered to look farther than the first two paragraphs of Wikipedia entry or the first two pages of Google search. If you don't know what qualifies as an authority or what corroboration means, consider not writing nonfiction.

The things I would most like to see in the credentials section are: other books you've published, and in the case of nonfiction, any reason why you'd be good at talking about this topic. But don't, for god's sake, put things in here that will make me think "You think that's a qualification?!"

You all know about the crazies I see in submissions. And you all are nothing like them... when you're calm and using your common sense. If you start letting the query "rules" and the publishing process freak you out, then you might just start seeming a wee bit like them, even though you're not.

So stay calm. Remember that the two things you're most trying to bring across in your query are:

(a) What makes your manuscript so great.

(b) What a yahoo you are not.

Do those things, and you've got yourself a good query... and never mind about the credentials.

Vote or Die! Mwaa-ha-ha-ha!

I'm having trouble with this "be more evil" thing (which would surprise my family, let me tell you). Suggestions are welcome.

I've rejected "Slush Puppies" as just too cute. I have similar, but less strong, feelings about "Anonymice"; also my readers don't seem terribly mouse-like to me. Still, there's a proud tradition of mice in children's lit. Do you see a mouse?

"Slushies" reminds me for some reason of Thugees, that evil cult in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. I disliked the movie, but I like the evil cult thing.

"Anonymati" does seem like a secret society, which has debatable application here. Unless it's an evil secret society? At the same time, I like "Anonymati" (as well as "Slushies" and "Peons") for clarity: a brand-new reader will have at least a fighting chance of figuring out that I'm addressing my readers when I use it. Not so much with "Mice", "Ablatives", "Queries", or "Snarfles".

But maybe we don't care. It could be like hazing, which is at least a little bit evil, right? Ugh, who can think with this evil cold? You guys decide. I'm going to go have an evil nap.

Go Name Yourself

From a recent conversation in the comments about Evil Editor's minions:

Me: Why don't I have minions?

Sarah Laurenson: Ah, but you have slavishly devoted followers. You just need a name for them. Miss Snark had Snarklings. Evil Editor has Minions. Does Moonrat have Moonies? I think you need a 'name the followers' post.

Colorado Writer: You have followers. Devoted ones.

Me: Yes, and I like their free-thinking selves just the way they are. But couldn't I have some minions, too, to do my bidding and some odd grovelling? Can you rent minions?

Sarah Laurenson: Odd grovelling? I think that can be arranged. Especially if you rent a few minions to do it.

Dana P: Sorry, EA, you can't have minions, because you're not evil. (A bit naughty, maybe, but that's not enough...)

Me: Harumph! New Year's resolution: be more eeeevil.

Asking you all to name yourselves feels like making assumptions about exactly how interested is this blog's following, but being humble is in direct contravention of my New Year's resolution. Humility: out. Overweening hubris: in.

So go on, name the readers of this blog. No need for slavishness, but humor is a plus. I'll put together a poll so everyone can vote. Hmm. Is allowing voting not eeevil enough?

I'd better do something bad to make up for it. I'll go torture my cat by holding her food dish over her head.

Oh, Did You Want to Play in This Field? I'm Sorry, the Adults Aren't Done "Discussing" It Yet.

Over at Evil Editor at 4pm EST today, there's going to be a live bookchat about The Higher Power of Lucky.

If I think of it, I'll be sticking my head in to see if there's anything interesting going on. I'm afraid, though, that the same lingering questions will almost certainly come up:

• Is a book which contains the word scrotum appropriate for 9-12 year olds?
• Just who are the uptight hysterics who think it's not?
• It's a good book, but would it have won the Newbery if Susan Patron wasn't a very well-liked librarian?
• Haven't the Newbery choices been inexplicable enough times to completely kill everyone's curiosity about what goes on in the committee's chambers?
• Why when everyone involved in a discussion is up on his/her high horse does nobody notice until the field is thoroughly trampled into mud?
  

Fear and Loathing in Children's Books

Would it put off a publisher if a picture book story showed both a parent and child being frightened of monsters? From one of your previous posts about layers of meaning, a child could read a whole lot of negative things into seeing a parent being scared.

That is correct.

Most stories seem to avoid that by having the parent either absent, reassuring, or disinterested/disbelieving.

Exactly.

Is this a tried and trusted formula, or is there some leeway - such as Michael Rosen's We're Going On A Bear Hunt?

There is some leeway--there's some leeway in pretty much every "rule" out there. But this is something to be very careful with.

Let's think about We're Going On a Bear Hunt. Most children do not have a built-in fear of bears (the way many do of monsters); after all, many children's books are about cuddly bears. So bears as a plot element are not automatically the source of anxiety other "bad guys" are. The bear in this book offers a mild thrill --just slightly more than an excuse to play at running away-- rather than a source of real conflict. And there's a dose of humor in this book that takes much of the sting from the bear's tension.

The book also doesn't complicate the ending with psychological extras-- when the family is home, they're safe. Period. The book tells small children what they already know and want to believe-- that there are scary things out there, but home is absolute safety, like a law of the universe.

Older children, of course, can explore the idea that home is not so safe.

And very young children can also enjoy stories where the bad guy/source of fear is dealt with a bit differently (Go Away, Big Green Monster; the goblin story in Little Bear's Visit; There's a Monster At the End of This Book; Mrs McMurphy's Pumpkin), but it must be dealt with sensitively. If you can't manage to empathize with the fear that small children feel --to understand in your gut where it comes from and what allays it-- then don't write that kind of story for them.

Many writers seem to have an ideal age range--the one they themselves most strongly empathize with-- and it's an important thing to recognize yours.

Whenever you don't know your audience, you're writing for the wrong crowd.

The Lions Say They've Refused to Eat You Before

I love to write. If I can post it, blog it, write it in some fashion, I do. Like most who visit your site, I believe I have something to offer. I've toyed with the idea of finally submitting one of the many projects I've written. The only problem is knowing how and to whom. If I write small, inspirational pieces, would I query online blogging sites, magazine publishers and the like?

Another problem is knowing who to ask for advice. I am a children's editor at a book publisher, which means I don't know anything about adult publishing, magazine publishers, or large (multiple-source) blogs.

Also, what would be the best way to initiate a contact with an agent or publisher?

Following their submission guidelines.

Is it appropriate to query more than one publisher at a time with the same article or story?

Yes, as long as you're not disobeying someone's submission guidelines.

Also, is it wise to query more than one publisher or agent with the same piece?

It's unwise to query publishers and agents at the same time. If you want an agent, only query agents. No agent wants to agree to take you on safari only to find out you've already been stomping all over the veldt and have scared off all the wildlife.

What is the best way to initiate contact for freelance work for magazines or other publishers?

Submit your resume (including past published work). We don't have time to sit and read a bunch of writing samples, so we look for people whose writing is good enough to have been published before.

Enormous Can of Worms (Can Opener Included!)

As I've only been in this country a few years, I'm still discovering which books are considered quintessential American children’s books. Often I’ve heard about books on your blog, which I’ve then gone on to read. Since there’s only so much I can gather from your header pic and because I trust your opinion, I wonder if, at some point, you’d be interested in ‘gifting’ your readers with a list of books you consider essential reading? Perhaps separate lists for PB, MG, YA? I imagine there are many readers and authors out there who would appreciate that.

This is an impossible task. This is akin to trying to walk over every inch of a mountain and still make it to the top in a day. Two years later you could still be in the foothills.

And I know no matter how thoughtful and diligent I was about such a list, inevitably I would leave something obvious out like The Invention of Hugo Cabret or Where the Wild Things Are and when the omission was pointed out to me I would feel like an idiot.

And! Let it be remembered that it is impossible to read all the good books. It was only a few years ago that I finally read The Giver, and fine, I'll go on record and admit I've still never read The Bridge to Terabithia. So you can quickly get into the quicksand of the difference between "read this and understand it before you go any further" vs. "you ought to at least have heard of this one".

But hell, why not? Now's a good time for quicksand projects.

However, I will only attempt this if it can be a joint undertaking with my readers. And if my readers will understand that I'll add their suggested titles only if they fit my personal, subjective sense of "required reading". (Otherwise readers' suggestions, none of which will be bad, will stay in the comments-- so read those, too. Readers-- feel free to make a short argument for your recommendation.) There are, after all, piles of books that you and I can both agree are wonderful and important in some way, but which I may not choose to put on the required reading list.

Oh, heck. What have I gotten myself into?

PICTURE BOOKS
All the fairy tales (Grimm, Anderson, etc), and you wouldn't go wrong reading the works of the Opies.
Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day
Amelia Bedelia
The Big Orange Splot
Brown Bear Brown Bear What Do You See
The Cat in the Hat
Click Clack Moo
Curious George
Dr. De Soto
Fancy Nancy (I choke on this book, but you must know about it)
Frederick (or possibly Swimmy; something by Lionni)
Frog and Toad (Lobel)
The Giving Tree and Love You Forever (and may they both be a lesson to you)
Good Night Gorilla
Goodnight Moon
Harold and the Purple Crayon
If You Give a Mouse a Cookie
Knuffle Bunny (and frankly you wouldn't go wrong reading the whole Willems oeuvre)
Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse
Little Bear (Minarik)
The Little Engine That Could
Madeline
Make Way for Ducklings
Miss Nelson Is Missing
No, David!
The Polar Express (and maybe some more Van Allsburg)
The Seven Silly Eaters
Show Way
The Stinky Cheese Man (and Other Fairly Stupid Tales)
The Story of Babar
Strega Nona
Sylvester and the Magic Pebble
The Tale of Peter Rabbit
The Three Pigs
The Very Hungry Caterpillar
We're Going on a Bear Hunt
Where the Wild Things Are
William's Doll
Winnie the Pooh

MIDDLE GRADE
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Alabama Moon
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Anne of Green Gables
Are You There God It's Me Margaret
The Bad Beginning
The Black Cauldron
The Bridge to Terabithia
Catherine Called Birdy
Charlotte's Web (and probably also The Trumpet of the Swan and Stuart Little)
Coraline
Danny Champion of the World (or maybe The Witches-- at least something by Dahl)
Ender's Game
From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs Basil E Frankweiler
The Giver
Harry Potter
Hatchet
Holes
The Invention of Hugo Cabret
Island of the Blue Dolphins
Julie of the Wolves
The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe
Little House in the Big Woods
A Long Way From Chicago
Ordinary Jack
Out of the Dust
Over Sea, Under Stone
Penderwicks
The Phantom Tollbooth
Ramona Quimby, Age 8
Saffy's Angel (or something by McKay, dammit)
The Search for Delicious (or maybe Tuck Everlasting)
The Tale of Despereaux (hurp!)
The Toys Go Out
The Watsons Go to Birmingham
The Wee Free Men
The White Mountains
The Witch of Blackbird Pond
The Westing Game

YOUNG ADULT
Absolutely True Diary of a Part-time Indian
American Born Chinese
The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing
The Book Thief
Catcher in the Rye
The Diary of Anne Frank
The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks
Dreamhunter
The Ear The Eye and the Arm
The Golden Compass
The Hero and the Crown
Homecoming
I Am the Cheese
King Dork
The King of Attolia
Looking for Alaska
Lord of the Flies
The Lord of the Rings
Monster
A Northern Light
The Outsiders
The Rules of Survival
Sold
Speak
To Kill a Mockingbird
Ok, Twilight, but for reference purposes. Feel free to read half of it.
Watership Down
A Wrinkle in Time

Let us also say for the record that people who are interested in Children's Lit in a pure sense can concentrate on catching up on the classics.
But those people interested in being published now should read one book that's topping the charts now for every classic they read. (Which "chart" you use should vary. Read the bestsellers; read the Mocks; read the books that get four starred reviews and sell 3,000 copies; flip through the books that Target carries.)

What Goes Good with Good Advice?

My situation: I had two agents request full manuscripts of my first YA Novel. Agent One said sheʼd like to see a revision and named specific issues to address. Agent Two said the writing was strong but he did not connect with the manuscript enough to offer representation but would like to see more of my work. Both are well-respected agents at top agencies. I could envision working with either of them. Iʼve completed the revision of my first novel and my second novel is also ready for submission. My question: Is it okay to send Agent One the revision and Agent Two the new novel simultaneously?

Yes.

And, should I keep sending queries to other agents after Iʼve submitted to either of the above two agents?

Yes.

The thing you don't do is send the revision based on Agent 1's comments to anyone else until Agent 1 has looked at it and/or had at least a couple months to respond. You can keep on sending the original of the manuscript to other people, but once you've taken someone's creative input and decided it makes the manuscript better, it's respectful to give that person the first shot at the results of their good advice.

Self-Publishing for the Self-Aware

So, I wrote a YA novel. Revised the crap out of it (repeatedly). Started querying it, got mostly rejections. Revised query, sent it out some more, and got more rejections (or just no response). Repeat, repeat, repeat. This is nothing new for me, as I've trudged down this road with two previous novels. The difference now is that I'm still in love with this one. I just want it to be read. Now, we know how you feel about self-publishing through outlets like iUniverse and such, and truthfully, I feel the same way. No distribution, no go. But what about on a personal website (after, of course, I've run through the rest of my agent prospects and been soundly rejected)? Teens do a lot of reading at the computer, anyway, and if even ten kids read it and enjoyed it, I'd be happy. And the Internet can be its own distribution if you work hard enough to get the word out. I have a few promotional ideas, and yes, the endeavor would cost me a bit, although the fruits of that would go to the reader (and hosting service) instead of a vanity press. I'm willing to spend the money. The only drawbacks I can think of: the possible regret in ten, twenty years when I cringe at my early work, as we all do; and utter failure to get even one person to read it. I'll have other novels ready to query within the next six months, so it's not like I'm focusing all my energy on this one. And maybe I should just let it go...or maybe I should follow my instincts and put it out there for the readers to decide. Your thoughts?

If you'd really be happy for just a couple people to read it, don't want any money out of it, and are willing to work to get it out there... then yes, I think the internet is perfect for you.

If you go into any form of self-publishing (from vanity presses to running a blog like this one) with the understanding that it's your time/money you're investing, it's extremely unlikely you'll ever make them back, and you're just doing it because you want to share something with people, then that's fine.

My sincere good wishes in finding your readers.

I Only Take Exclusive Submissions. Exclusive of Squirrels.

Every once in a while I submit something to an editor who wants exclusive submissions. I usually say in my cover letter that it's an exclusive submission for 3 months. I've read that after the 3 months expire I should send another letter, notifying the editor that my submission is no longer exclusive.

I lean toward thinking this would be just another envelope to be opened by some underpaid assistant. Would any editor read my three-months-are-up letter and think, "How I regret missing this deadline! I must dig through my slush pile to find the unsolicited manuscript of this totally unpublished author, before someone else snaps it up!"?

You're probably right.

But suppose I don't send a letter. Six months later the editor picks up my submission. She looks at the cover letter and realizes it's no longer an exclusive submission. Have I committed some dreadful faux pas?

Not in that case. At the same time, there's no harm in sending such a letter on the off chance that the editor is reading your manuscript just now, or has read it and wants to ask for a rewrite (and is formulating her thoughts first).

And if she is in fact in the process of showing it to her colleagues in preparation for acquisition, she'll be damn glad you reminded her of the three-month mark.

Bottom line, yes, sometimes being courteous makes a difference, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes being discourteous makes a difference, and sometimes it doesn't.

But you never know which one it'll be until it happens. Which "makes a difference" situation do you want to be in?

The Collected Works of --What Do You Mean, 'Term of Copyright'?

I would like to ask a question regarding submitting previously published, humorous newspaper articles for (possible) book publishing.

My father was an editor of the Savannah Morning News and wrote a humorous column for the Sunday Op Ed page. Since he has passed away, everyone that knew him has been urging me to get a book together of his pieces- Yes, it's regional, southern. No, he never wrote a book...though he won numerous UPI and AP awards and placed over and above Lewis Grizzard a time or two.

What I'd like to do is put his "best of" articles together, perhaps with some (personal) photography or cartoons drawn by the newspaper's artist about my father.

So, my question is this- should I query (some) publisher with these articles (copied) or simply present this idea in my own pen?

I would suggest that you tidy them up so that they're professional-looking and easy to read. That may mean transcribing them into word docs so that they'll print cleanly, but do keep all of the marks that it was an article-- headline, author, newspaper and pub date at the top. (And if you happen to be one of those people who can't transcribe anything without adding typos, have somebody else proof it.) Be sure to include in your cover letter some non-anecdotal proof of your father's popularity (numbers speak loudest). Make sure your father's arrangement with the newspaper hasn't left the publication rights in their possession, rather than yours.

Your Submission, Starring The Manuscript You Wrote in College

A thousand years ago when I was in college I entered and happened to win a literary competition at my (tiny) university. The prize was publication in the university's literary magazine. The circulation of the magazine has got to be under a thousand, and it only came out annually. (Or, at least, this was true then and I assume it still is.) There was no payment, nor was there ever any discussion of what rights they had and what rights I retained. No mention of anything like copyright was made in the fine print of the "magazine" itself. I'm not asking whether I can claim this as a publication credit. I know better than to try that. But for years, I've never done anything with this story again, even though I think it's a pretty good one, because I'm not sure what I can actually offer, and I'm afraid that trying to convey the situation will make me come off as amateurish. Can I safely submit the story without ever mentioning its "publication" history, tacitly selling first North American rights or whatever?

You should be honest about its publication history. But as you gave that college publication no rights, they have no rights. (You may want to write to them to make sure they understand this, though.)

Will mentioning that it's previously "published" make it undesirable because it's a reprint?

It wouldn't to me, but I can't speak for everybody.

Worse, will it make me look like I'm trying to pass off my small time college lit mag as a real credit?

This will simply depend on how you present the information. If you're just letting editors know the history of the piece, that's fine. If you're boasting that it was in a college magazine, that's eye-rolling. It's the difference between a footnote and a headline.

In Your Manuscript's Next Life, It Will Be Agented

On a day last May, I made up a picture book story along the lines of Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch cartoon and the Froggy books when I walked my daughter to school. She had the original concept and I asked her questions to build upon the story. I thought it was cute and when I got home I wrote it down. Subsequently, I entered the Spoonful of Stories contest by Cheerios, but alas, I didn’t final. I have since written six more stories involving these characters. Would it be improper to submit the series idea in a query?

No.

Would it be bad karma to send all of them in one envelope to live in your slush pile?

Yes. One at a time, and after your critique group has looked at them, or I would worry this is more "cute story" or "isn't my child imaginative" than it is "good writing".

Or should I just file it under, ‘great moments shared with daughter’?

Maybe. It's good to keep this in mind whatever happens. The really enjoyable parts of your job, whether author, illustrator, or editor, are the creative parts. It's worth it to wade through the rest of it in order to share the creative parts with other people, but if all you end up with is the creative parts... that's not so bad, is it? And you've earned some good karma with your kid.

Your Identity, for the Internet

I am getting ready to query a middle-grade novel, so I thought I should have something up for a website. What sorts of things should an unpubbed writer include on her site, if she should mention a website at all in her query letter?

Not your WIPs. Those are a secret, because they're special, right?

Your website, in the very lucky event that an editor decides to look you up, should tell the editor more about who you are as a person-- your other pursuits, anything that makes you particularly well suited to write for kids, your sense of humor, that sort of thing. Your website is a chance to make the editor think, "I like this person. She seems pleasant and fun, and not needy, neurotic, or crazy. I might enjoy working with her."

Careful with the clip art. A sampling of uncohesive art styles can make your website look messy. Good visuals to include might be the covers of published books you're reading and enjoying-- and make them recent pubs, ok? We like to see that authors are keeping up with the industry.

Once you're published, put each of your own books up with their reviews, the price and publisher. Link to IndieBound as well as Amazon and B&N. Point local readers to your local bookstore. Talk about the events you do with kids.

Put Another Slush on the Fire, Babe, and Come and Tell Me Why You're Leaving Me

I really enjoyed your Kitchen Full of Slush post. I’m curious as to what happens to the piles of slush? Specifically, how do you keep them and respond in chronological order? With that many submissions it seems insurmountable.

That would be telling.
Different houses, different methods, of course.

Perhaps the editorial staff sits down Friday afternoons for a concentrated hour or so of reading, while they pass a flask around.

Perhaps the publisher gets a freelance reader (or readers) to address some (or all) of the slush and pass the good stuff to the editorial assistant, who doles it out among editors according to topic and taste.

Perhaps the interns shovel it into a smallish, forgotten room (whose original use is now lost to memory), and take turns jumping into the pile like school children into autumn leaves.

Or perhaps it's stacked tidily, labeled with the date, and tied with twine into turfs, to await April 31st.


(Ok, I feel the need to explain my title line, for those of you who aren't inveterate muppet fans.)

Just in Time for the Non-Denominational Holiday of Your Choice

Pickled Pixel Toe T Shirts

Etsy's Bookish Gifts

Everyone's a Librarian at Heart

What a Tasteful Coffee Table Book! But How Does It Taste?

This question may seem only vaguely related to publishing, but here goes. Are publishers of children's books aware of the new Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act that will require any product for kids under age 12 to be tested by third party labs for lead content?

Yes.

Are book publishers going to send off samples of books to be tested for lead as the law requires?

Yes.

Many small to medium sized US businesses that make toys, apparel, science products, home decor, etc for kids are in an uproar right now. Wondered if you had any inside scoop on the publishing industry's reaction.

No uproar in my neck of the woods. Some sighing, sure, because the new law seems a teeny bit stringent in terms of age range (how many readers of Spiderwick, for instance, also chew on the books?). Some mild grinding of teeth, because lots of book-plus products are going to have to have a "CHOKING HAZARD!" label attached to them, and we know that puts consumers off-- even when it's a darling horse necklace for a 10-year-old girl who would never think of trying to eat the damn thing. And of course the testing is going to add some time into every one of our book schedules.

At the same time, most children's books are not in any danger of lead contamination, so we know they'll pass testing. And we get that the law's goal is to make everything safer for children. Who can feel too bad about that?

I Am Queen of the Wild Things! That's "Mom" to You.

You talk about "strange" writers and some you can tell right off the bat that maybe they have birth defects of the membrane or something of the sort. I write under a pseudonym. The pseudonym is [redacted]. There are a variety of reasons I do this none of which you will be interested in. Nevertheless, in your experience, if somebody sends in manuscripts under a name that is obviously a pen name and a slightly strange one too, does that make you view the manuscript any differently?

Yes.
Why wouldn't you want your editor to know your name? What name would the publisher put on the contract? Under what name would they file the book for copyright?

A pseudonym is what you put on the book. If you want to go full-on Lemony Snicket or Pseudonymous Bosch, the marketing department too can use only your pseudonym. But you can bet Daniel's and Avi's editors know their real names.

Those authors are perceived as "quirky". If you really, really, really don't want to tell anyone your name, that's going to be perceived as "wacko".

So let's assume you can somehow figure out the legal ramifications of having your work copyrighted to somebody who doesn't exist and having your checks made out to someone who can't open a bank account. As you may have guessed from this blog, editors treasure and adore the sweet, stable, wholly-in-their-right-mind authors.

We meet lots of people under the mistaken impression that they need to be bizarre to be seen as original. That being imaginative is an excuse for being impossible. That being an artist is a substitute for being honest.

No. The unbridled freedom of your creativity does not give you license to behave like a total weirdo. Feel free to wear your wolf suit when you go visiting the wild things. But if you expect any damn dinner, you'll put some pants on.

Submissions Volume Explained

I'm Your Sister's Bikini Waxer's Ex-Boyfriend's Dry Cleaner. So You Won't Mind Doing Me a Favor.

A senior editor at a very top house has my manuscript (adult) that she requested. We had a personal connection (her stepmother was a teacher of mine). She's had the ms for about two months. Do you think my unagented ms will get a good read eventually? (I assume the ones you were talking about were all unrequested. Thanks for the visions of slush that have now filled my imagination!)

The answer is maybe.

Everyone in publishing (and especially in children's publishing) accepts it as part of their job that friends of colleagues, second cousins of friends of colleagues, and hairstylists of second cousins of friends of colleagues will use their "personal connection" to force an editor to deal with their manuscript (rather than an editorial assistant or intern). We don't accept it cheerfully, but we accept it. The world is all about relationships.

We also know that a personal connection is no guarantee at all that the manuscript will be better than the usual run of slush, and indeed it's often worse-- because the people who try this end-run are usually the rank beginners who not only know nothing about the industry, they also come with a bunch of wildly wrong assumptions about it.

Now, I'm not assuming you're one of these people. They don't find their way to my blog, because they don't see why they should be interested in publishing before they get published. You seem quite stable (and are certainly literate enough, from your letter).

But you should know that it is through this lens of apprehension and mild resentment that your manuscript is likely to be read. If it's simply terrific and grabs the editor from page one, then your road ahead may be clear and golden. But if not, the editor may only read the couple of pages that will allow her to write a letter that shows she did look at the manuscript before rejecting it.



Now, I know, sometimes it seems like there aren't hurdles in your path to publication as much as mountains. I know, following the rules of submitting to publishing houses and agents sometimes seems like an enormous waste of time. But breaking the rules is equally so.

I post about the slush to try to convey to people why there are so many roadblocks set up in the way of hopeful writers: because many hopeful writers are simply delusional about what might get published.

It's like there's a mob of thousands outside your office, and you know from experience that a good half of them are loonies. And a spare few are people you would be thrilled to work with. How do you sift through them? Ask the crazy people to raise their hands? Ask the "good writers" to raise their hands?

No. You're going to have to interview them each in turn, and it's going to be a lot of work. And it doesn't help that there are a few of them waving their arms and calling, "I knew your ex-manicurist's rabbi!"

rerun: The Kitchen Full of Slush

While we are on the topic of slush and what part of it is worthy of Slush and Punishment, I thought it would be useful to go back to the Kitchen of Slush, which is a visualization exercise from the very early days of this blog.

The fundamental lack of understanding about how much slush there is feeds many, many of the most common mistakes writers make--mistakes that hurt their chances of getting published, and often hurt their morale.

First, you need to realize that you do not know what a pile of 15,000 manuscripts looks like.

Let's say you have a table that seats four. Imagine that in your kitchen at home. 1,000 manuscripts would cover that table in piles that would teeter. Tall piles. Take a moment to picture that.

Now fill the floorspace underneath and around the table with 4,000 more manuscripts. There is no room for chairs anymore. You can't reach the manuscripts in the middle of the table.

1,000 manuscripts fill your counter space; another 2,000 stuffs all your cupboards and shelf space. There is no longer any room for the coffeemaker or toaster; all of your food and crockery has been displaced to the living room. You cannot close the doors on your cupboards because of all the manuscripts spilling out of them. The kitchen is no longer about eating or cooking or anything but manuscripts.

The remaining 7,000 manuscripts cover all the remaining floor space in thigh-deep drifts. You cannot enter the room now. You can only reach those manuscripts at the doorway. Your kitchen is now less a "room" than a tank of paper.

Good. Keep that image in mind. Now imagine that you read 15,000 manuscripts last year, and a good 50% were so inappropriate, illiterate, or crazy that thoughts of the hard work you did in college and the enormous debt you're still carrying from attending that schmancy institution made you nigh-suicidal. The cause of literature seemed futile and meaningless. You might as well hole up in a shack in Montana, awaiting the end of western civilization and stockpiling Joyce.

Now imagine that another 47% were just poorly-written, or aimed at the wrong age level, or derivative of much better (and better-known) writers, as well as having several concept/plotting/arc issues. If asked to say what was wrong with any of these, you would first have to think hard about how to prioritize the problems you saw, and then think hard about how to put them nicely. (Editors are picky, critical people, but they're also nice people. They don't want to hurt your feelings.)

The last 3% were nice, but manuscripts that no consumer was going to spend her money on when she's got so many other choices.

Which left you with 0.02% --3 manuscripts from 15,000-- that were worth publishing and ended up paying you back for the time it took to read them. (As well as, of course, the tens of thousands of dollars it took to publish them. Let's not forget about that.)

Did those 3 manuscripts pay you back for the time it took you to read the 14,997 other manuscripts in slush? No. Why do you have to read another 15,000 this year, when you have more than enough work to do (and agented manuscripts to acquire) to completely fill your 50-hour work weeks?

That's a good question.

And yet we do keep reading. Maybe it's 'hope springs eternal,' maybe it's the thrill of the chase. Maybe we're nuts.


Now see if you can answer some of these commonly asked questions yourself:

1. "Why is it so hard to get published?"

2. "Why are decline letters so impersonal?"

3. "How can some publishers decide not to reply at all unless they're interested in acquiring?"

4. "Why does every publisher have to have a different set of submission guidelines?"

5. "Why are they so slavishly attached to their submission guidelines?"

6. "How can they be so perfunctory about something that means so much to me?"


Slush and Punishment entries are inspired by the bottom 50% percent-- the stuff anybody with an iota of taste, good sense, or sanity would know is not publishable. The "grey" area that has been recently mentioned in the comments is the top 50%. It's "well... maybe" territory.

But what each of you is striving for is really the top 3%-- the manuscripts that are almost sure to be published, if they find the right editor and the right house.

It Can't Really Be That Bad, Can It?

My Slush and Punishment posts are not real submissions, no. It would be both unethical and unprofessional for me to post the submissions sent to my publisher on this personal blog.

However: they are very closely and faithfully patterned on real submissions I have seen. This is the thing I want to bring across: I am not exaggerating for humor --or for any other purpose.

The truth that I want to offer my readers is: a fair portion of the slush is this nuts. This wrong-headed. This mind-bogglingly bad.


Sometimes at my desk I worry that I'm being too jaundiced; too skeptical of random authors who find my name somewhere and get past our receptionist; too impatient with the bizarre but well-meant drivel that finds its way to my desk in spite of our very fine interns.

But the point is not whether I am a hopeless curmudgeon or not. The point for you, sweet readers, is that every editor has waded through the same jaw-dropping crap, and is as wary of strange writers as I am, for good reason: as wonderful as many writers are, some writers can be damn strange.

Slush and Punishment: Fairy Toilets?

Fairy Isabelle can't get the boy fairies to put the fairy toilet seats down! How will she convince them that this is the only polite thing to do? As someone famous once said, speak quietly and carry a big wand!

Seems to me the wands are part of the problem.

Slush and Punishment: Me and My Rhyming Dictionary

Robert was a sweet little mutt.
His favorite food was cashew nut.
Eating it had given him a bit of a gut.
He didn't like to get in a rut.
When he was proud he would sometimes strut.
He had a sweet little tail growing out of his butt.
When his mother would call him, he would say, "What?"

I am doing my deep breathing and reminding myself that rhyming dictionaries, and yea, even the English language, do not have feelings.

Slush and Punishment: Love Potion No. K12

Exposed to more and more television and media aimed at all ages, children are falling in love earlier and earlier. And that's wonderful! My story about a love-struck bunny who follows her crush home, leaves him anonymous notes, and steals things from his desk at school is perfect for kindergarteners experiencing their very first "true love".

This "love" sounds suspiciously like the kind that takes long-distance photographs and leaves dead things on your doorstep.

Slush and Punishment: Ta-Ta, Ta-Tas!

Dear Editor,
Are you a mother? Did your child ask for breastfeeding in public places? Did you not know how to wean him/her? In Ta-Ta, Ta-Tas, little Jimmy learns that there are lots of good snacks that don't come in mommy's blouse and how they can have emotional comfort just like mommy's sweet ta-tas.

((Shudder.))

Chicken Little Gets a Time Out

I will admit that I sometimes enjoy being mildly alarmist. Still, recent events notwithstanding, some of my recent posts ("Panic", "Hindenberg") may have been counter-productive to those readers actually inclined toward hysteria. As Janet Reid reminds us, it is not the time to start dreeing your weird.

(Well, ok. For the people who have lost their jobs just before the holidays, probably it is.)

But for those of us still at sea on the great ship of publishing, this economy is not our iceberg. We've just hit some really choppy water. Work will likely be harder in the immediate future. We'll feel particularly bad about those colleagues we know who are out on their butts. There will be more drinking in publishing circles (marginally, as we've already set a pretty high bar for ourselves).

However: we will get through this. If you find wailing through the streets personally cathartic, though, feel free.

What's the Difference Between Publishing and the Hindenberg?

Sounds like the beginning of a joke, doesn't it?

Not today.

Random House, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Simon & Schuster--the news keeps coming in. Publisher's Lunch is calling today "Black Wednesday". Resignations, layoffs, fracturing of houses...

For those of you inclined to worry, I still have a job.
But some people don't. Raise a glass to them tonight.

Spam, spam, spam

There's something about Monday mornings. Last Monday I had something like 50 sex-spam comments added to this blog, and this morning it was over 100. I'm afraid I'm going to have to start mediating the comments, which will mean your comments won't go up automatically.
Sorry.
If you meet a spammer, kick him for me, ok?

Synopsis: The Little Princess by Frances Hodgeson Burnett

The wealthy and handsome Captain Crewe deposits his beloved daughter Sara at a London boarding school. The stern headmistress of the school, Miss Minchin, resents Sara from the first day of class. But not only is Sara clever, she is also uncommonly good, and gifted with the ability to tell stories that win her a fiercely devoted group of followers and the nickname Princess Sara. During Sara's birthday party, Minchin discovers that Captain Crewe has died of brain fever and left Sara penniless. Enraged, Minchin strips Sara of her finery and forces her to become a maid-of-all-work. Sara invents a fantasy-life she calls "the magic" that warms her despite the bitter cold. Someone leaves her secret gifts that make her believe ever more strongly in the magic. Her benefactor is the school's mysterious new neighbor -- Captain Crewe's business partner, who has been searching the globe for little Sara. He adopts her, and she becomes Princess Sara once again.

It's ok to start your synopsis a little further into the story than the manuscript does, if the problem comes later. You couldn't skip over the very beginning of Hatchet, of course. But here, the beginning is all prologue to Sara's fall from privilege and how she makes the best of it-- with goodness, imagination, and spirit-- and how she finds a happy ending in spite of her misfortunes and enemies. For a short synopsis, start with the problem.

Synopsis: The Ear, The Eye and The Arm by Nancy Farmer

In 22nd-century Zimbabwe, the children of General Matsika – Tendai, Rita and Kuda – escape their sheltered life for an adventure in Harare, and are immediately kidnapped and sent to the plastic mines.

Good beginning--we definitely know we're in the future.

The General hires three mutant detectives, Ear, Eye, and Arm, to find them. The detectives, always one step behind the resourceful children, follow them from the mines to the walled-in, secret village of Resthaven – a protected island of traditional tribal life in the middle of Harare – and on to the subtler dangers of Mrs. Horsepool-Worthington, a snobbish society woman who plans to hold the children for ransom.

You're skipping over a bunch of the unnecessary (for these purposes) details, but I'm not sure the ones you've chosen to share are serving your synopsis.

The detectives and children finally meet at the Mile-High McIlwaine Hotel for a showdown with evil telepaths known as the Masks, who threaten all of Zimbabwe. Sensitive Tendai defeats the Masks, with help from both friends and enemies, and grows into a hero.

If there are going to be evil telepaths, you should have introduced them a little earlier. It sounds like they just materialize in the story for the sake of the ending. And (hold on!) Tendai is the hero? That's not at all clear.

This book has a very involved plot, and while part of the appeal is the adventure, another important part is the humor. A synopsis of this story has the challenging task of conveying adventure without trying to tell about all the adventures, and at least implying the threads of traditional folklore and comedy that run through the text.

This one's intriguing, and I might request a manuscript from it, but it could still use some work.

Synopsis: Hatchet by Gary Paulsen

Brian Robeson is lost and alone in the mosquito-infested Canadian wilderness. The bush plane he was flying in to visit his father lies at the bottom of a lake with a dead pilot inside.

Good beginning.

Brian bumbles along the first few days after the accident and then experiences his ultimate low point when he sees a search plane but the pilot doesnʼt see him. After a failed suicide attempt Brian starts to embrace his situation.

You go from "bumbling" straight to a suicide attempt? We need a better sense of the despair that Brian feels to make suicide acceptable so soon in this synopsis. Perhaps it's best not mentioned here.

Armed with only a hatchet, Brian figures out how to make fire and procure food. He has way more setbacks and frustrations than successes but by not counting on being rescued Brian embarks on a life-path of survival as he physically, emotionally and spiritually becomes a part of the wilderness.

"Way more" is stylistically out of character for the text you're describing. Your synopsis should reflect your text whenever possible. Also: "life-path"? This sounds like new-age bibble in the face of a story about survival in the wilderness.

When rescue finally comes he meets it not as a scared, helpless kid but as a mature young man at home in his body and surroundings.

There's clearly the seed of a good survival story here, but there are enough inconsistencies in the way this synopsis was written that I think I would pass on seeing the manuscript.

Synopsis: Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

Sophie Hatter has a boring life, and is almost sure she wants it that way. Then the Witch of the Waste casts a spell on her and turns her into an old woman. Sophie decides to hobble out and seek her fortune. She makes a pact with Calcifer the fire demon and enters into the service of the Wizard Howl. He eats girls' hearts, but Sophie's not worried since she's no longer a girl. Soon Sophie must save Calcifer and Howl from a bargain that helps neither,

What bargain that helps neither?

save her younger sister from Howl's heartless courtship, and save the Kingdom of Ingary from the Witch. Sophie learns that she's not as timid as she thought, she has an incredible talent for magic, that she's not immune to the Wizard's charms, and that in Ingary, even the oldest of three can live happily ever after.

Oldest of three? What?
This is mostly well done, and I might be intrigued enough to request this. But this highlights a common difficulty in writing a synopsis-- forgetting what elements will be confusing/meaningless to someone who hasn't read the book.

Synopsis: First Test by Tamora Pierce

The daughter of the Yamani Ambassador, ten-year-old Kethry of Mindelan, was exposed to a different culture than her native Tortall. Her decision to become the first openly female Tortallan knight meets with resistance – from the knight training master.

The first two sentences don't really flow into each other. I'd be wondering if your writing style is this disjointed. What you've left out is that in Tortall's male-dominated knighthood, there is a striking exception: Alanna, who is (can I recall now?) King's Champion, or something? So now Kethry is the first girl to go through knight training without hiding her gender.

Allowed to train, on probation, Kethry also has to deal with the prejudice of the boys and their attempts to force her to leave. While her prior Yamani training further sets her apart, it enables her to physically fight to right the wrong in the hazing – bullying – she sees. Only an anonymous benefactor gives her hope in the form of exercises for the upper body.

Nevermind about "in the form of exercises for the upper body"; it's unnecessary detail. Replace it with "of finishing her first year in training".

Kethry pushes herself to persevere through black eyes, bloody noses, and punishments for fighting and not completing her homework. The end of her year of probation brings tears as she readies herself to leave. The training master surprises everyone by allowing her to return the next year.

"Black eyes, bloody noses" is the kind of detail that's useful in this context. But I can't remember now: did the book end this anticlimactically? You had me pretty interested until that last sentence.

Synopsis: The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Katniss's expert archery skills enable her to provide for her widowed mother and younger sister by supplementing their income with illegally procured meat. But when Katsa is chosen as an unwilling regional representative to The Games, a highly-anticipated, fight-to-the finish competition, her unusual skill becomes her only chance to survive.

Watch out for changing your characters' names in the middle of the synopsis. (Yes, you've just been reading Graceling, I know.) Don't say "fight to the finish" when you're just introducing the book to people-- this is a fight to the death, and it's important to bring that across.

Protecting herself in the competition is challenging. Deciding whether to protect other competitors is heart-breaking. As the cruelties of the Game grow more fierce, Katniss's anger at the vicious system escalates. Instead of killing her final competitor and friend, Katniss turns her energies to out-witting the system and forcing an ending with more than one survivor. Although she triumphs over the most vicious elements of the Game, she isn't happy; the self-knowledge she has gained is as alarming as it is enlightening. This dystopian tale looks backward to the age of gladiators and forward to what we may become.

Excellent job! You got all the most important pieces of this plot, didn't get sidetracked talking about the possible romantic implications (which may or may not come to fruit in a further book) and wrapped it all up in an easily-grasped, almost catchy way.

Synopsis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis

When four children walk through a coat-filled wardrobe in England, they find the land of Narnia, a magical place filled with fantastic creatures and talking animals. An evil witch, who has imprisoned Narnia in ice and snow, deceives and captures one of the children. His brother and sisters must seek help from the great lion Aslan, Narnia’s creator and rightful ruler, to release Narnia and rescue Edmund. But the witch invokes the ancient “deep magic,” and Aslan offers himself as a sacrifice in place of Edmund.

Don't use "the" here for magic I'm not familiar with. Quotations like these, too, are worrisome when you're describing your own ideas/work. I would have said, "But the witch invokes ancient magic, and Aslan is forced to offer himself as a sacrifice in place of Edmund."

The witch kills Aslan on an ancient stone table. Then she and her evil army wage war on the grieving Narnians. The children, armed with gifts from Aslan, become leaders in a desperate, losing battle. But unknown to the witch, Aslan’s sacrifice has unleashed a “deeper magic.” Aslan rises from the dead to defeat the witch and redeem Narnia from its eternal winter.

"Ancient stone table" is maybe unnecessary here. "Narnians?" We haven't been introduced to these people, so maybe you want to say something like "inhabitants of Narnia." Again, don't use those quotation marks. And end this "and redeem Narnia with the help of the children." We like to see power in the hands of the main characters, remember. The victory should be theirs as well.

So a few tips, but good work.

Synopsis: The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope

Kate Sutton, neither charming, nor beautiful, is blamed for her sister’s too-frank letter to Queen Mary and sent away to an obscure holding in the north of England known as The Perilous Gard.

Here she meets her guardian’s younger brother, Christopher, who blames himself for his niece’s loss down the castle well. Kate can’t believe he’s responsible, and when she hears a local story about the “fairy folk” she suggests the child may have been kidnapped by the remnant of a druidic cult. Finally convinced, Christopher offers himself in exchange for the child, correctly guessing the folk are planning a human sacrifice like one described in the ballad Tam Lin.

Kate witnesses the exchange and is taken as a slave to the same underground world. She finds Christopher and works to counter the mind games designed to make him a willing sacrifice. When she escapes the caves to meet him by the bonfire on Halloween night she’s able to reach his mind—saving them both by breaking through the spell of words the folk use, but the next time she sees him he is with her sister. Kate rejects the Fairy Queen’s offer of “magic” to bring him back, only to learn it was one last trick, to make her question his love when he did choose her.

Nice job. It might have been nice to have a sense from the beginning that this was going to be fantasy/romance (it sounds very historical-fiction at first), but I'd definitely request a manuscript from this synopsis. "Neither charming nor beautiful" is a good beginning; it shows me a bit of the author's hand, and the plot sounds like an appealing twist on traditional stories of fairies.

Mustaches for Children

That is, mustaches that adult people grow to raise money for children. Like Adam Rex is doing.

His first mustache update looked respectable, but the second one is awesome.
And by "awesome" I mean "like a hirsute skin disease".

So skate on over to his blog and donate a little moolah to the kids. Or, slightly less charitable but more humorous: give mustaches to kids.