Should You Send a Slew?

August 11, 2010 in Advice, Agent, Queries | 14 comments

There is lots of good stuff happening over at WriteOnCon.com…lots of fantastic articles and chats and vlogs from editors and agents. (Seems like there were issues with the site yesterday, and now it’s back up, at least for me. I don’t know what that was about.) As a result of all the great content going up online, I’m feeling a little less-than-inspired about my own blog topic today. Ho hum.

Well, since you’re all probably learning about new agents and editors who you’d like to submit to at WriteOnCon, I wanted to tackle a submission question that came in from reader Siski a long time ago:

Is it worth providing an agent with a synopsis of several manuscripts so they can assess you as an author, rather than assess you in terms of one manuscript? Would that make rejection less likely? Or will an agent be able to see what you’re capable of from just one MS and therefore wouldn’t want to know of others?

I get this question a lot at conferences and through the blog. Should you send a slew of your stuff or charge into the great query yonder with just one project at a time?

I’m very adamant about my answer: send only your absolute strongest project out. No ifs ands or buts. I don’t care if it’s a ten word picture book. If it’s your strongest work, that’s what you should show the world. In most cases — especially with picture book manuscripts, but this could apply to novels, too — having a really great, strong submission will either get you an offer or at least get your foot in the door.

After the communication lines between you and the editor/agent are open, you can broach other projects. Or the agent/editor may ask to see what else you have. But the time for that is AFTER they show interest in your initial blow-the-door-off-its-hinges submission.

When we get a slew of submissions from a writer, either in one email or in twenty, we’re overwhelmed. We’re annoyed. We wonder why you have those twenty manuscripts sitting around on your hard drive and, yes, why you decided to unleash them on the world in one big deluge. It also makes us panicky. Do you want us to sell all twenty of those for you right off the bat? Are your expectations completely unrealistic?

So be patient. Really take a long, hard look at all the projects you have to potentially offer an agent/editor. Choose your favorite, the one you feel is most marketable or the one you’re most passionate about (ideally, it will have both of those qualities!). And send that one as a way to engage the editor/agent into asking for more. That’s the right way to do it. Sending your entire slew will have the opposite effect — you’ll get that agent/editor shutting the door of opportunity in your face instead of opening it wider

Tags:

WriteOnCon This Week!

August 9, 2010 in Events | 23 comments

Hey all. If you’re thinking that you’d love to attend a virtual writer’s conference for kidlit writers only — maybe you’ve never experienced a conference, maybe you’re still nursing your SCBWI-LA-is-over-for-another-year blues — you’re in luck. This week is WriteOnCon, a fantastic virtual kidlit writer’s conference put on, in part, by one of my fabulous clients, Jamie Harrington.

WriteOnCon features editors, agents, and published authors who will be writing articles, doing vlogs, giving presentations, hosting chats, answering your questions, hanging in the forums, and otherwise interacting with writers all week long.

The conference runs from Tuesday, August 10th, to Thursday, August 12th, is completely online, is completely FREE, and features a special vlog presentation (about character depth vs. character stereotypes) and a live chat with yours truly.

Check out WriteOnCon here, and register today: http://www.writeoncon.com.

I’ll also be hanging out in the forums this week and answering questions, so watch out!

Tags:

International Writers and International Settings

August 6, 2010 in Advice, Publishing | 34 comments

This is a question I got on the blog a few months ago, about writers who either live outside of the US or write about locations outside the US, or both:

How do editors and agents feel about writers from other countries? I live in Canada and write using Canadian spelling and grammar. My latest young adult story is set in Canada so I have kept to the Canadian standards. However, I’m afraid that agents will see that and wonder whether or not I know basic grammar.

Do American agents consider the location of the story and/or it’s author when reading a manuscript? Do they require American spelling and grammar? Would an agent in the states consider taking on a story set in another country or would they prefer to change the setting to an American city?

I get this question a lot, actually. Thoughts:

If you want to shop it in the American market, adhere to American grammar and spelling standards. I see tons of submissions from around the world and am very familiar with what is standard usage in other countries. I give writers the benefit of the doubt and assume they know basic language rules, so don’t worry about your Canadian usage branding you as illiterate in our eyes. However, I also know that you will have to adhere to American standards if you manuscript is acquired in America. The best way to avoid a heavy line edit later on is to Americanize your manuscript before you submit to American agents or editors. You know what’s coming…just get it over it.

I see a lot of Canadian writers. They usually set a story in the place they know best, usually their Canadian hometown. However, international settings for novels published in the American market usually tend to be more…exotic. The upcoming novel by P.J. Converse, SUBWAY GIRL, out from HarperCollins in the spring 2011 season, is a romance intertwined with the bustling subway lines of Hong Kong. The upcoming Stephanie Perkins romance, ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS, out from Dutton this fall, is set in…bien sur…Paris.

Not to offend our dear friends up north, but for Canadian settings, I have to ask: is it 100% essential that the story is set in Canada? Is the Canadian setting absolutely crucial to the story? Does the whole thing fall apart when you take the story oot of Canada? I’m not sure American kid/teen readers will understand the nuances and glories of Canada. It doesn’t have the sexy allure of France or Brazil or Morocco in American popular culture. I read a lot of children’s literature and have yet to come across a pocket of stories set in Canada. Now, I don’t know if that’s the setting’s fault or if I’m not reading the right books or if it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, but the general lack of Canada-centric books in the US kidlit market makes me a little less eager to submit project set in the Great White North (unless the Canadian setting is absolutely imperative to the action of the story, as I’ve mentioned, and the book is completely amazing, of course).

This is a tough market. Editors don’t care where you’re from, but they do care about your work being able to attract the maximum number of readers. If you want to publish in the US market, your best, strongest bet, would be to cater more to American readers in terms of location and grammar/spelling. I believe in giving your work the biggest possible chance at publication, and if you can make these changes without wrecking your story, it might be smarter.

Either way, I don’t think a lot of agents will penalize a writer for being located internationally or for writing in an international setting right off the bat. It’s all about the writing and the story, at the end of the day.

ETA: Just so nobody misses the point — the setting has to be absolutely instrumental to the story. Novels are about choices the writer makes. If you’re just setting something somewhere just because, that’s not a strong choice. If you set a story outside of the average American reader’s frame of reference and you want to publish in the American market, one or both of the following must be true: first, it must be a location that the reader will be thrilled and excited to vicariously visit (think about action movies…they’re always set in some exotic world destination), second, it must absolutely be crucial to the story. You can’t have a Mayan story without some mention of Mexico, for example.

ETA 2.0: Perhaps my least favorite thing about having a blog is writing posts like these and then getting the feeling that, just because I write about this subject, that readers think I personally agree with it. I’m talking about international writers and settings and how they are perceived in terms of marketing a manuscript to agents and/or editors for the American audience. I’m not giving my own personal views about how the world should be. I’m not making commentary on American culture. I’m not saying that this is the only opinion on the issue. But an undeniable bias exists toward American settings in today’s kidlit. That is a fact. How do I feel about that personally? That’s not what this post is about.

Tags:

Grounding the Reader

August 4, 2010 in Writing | 15 comments

I promised a post on “grounding” the reader in my real estate post a few days ago. Let me explain further. The reader is someone who picks up a book to read a story and have an experience. Since you know your story much better than the reader, it is your job to curate them through the story, to transition them from scene to scene and moment to moment in such a way that they follow you and focus stays on the story…instead of on the transitions and work you’re doing to put it together.

As soon as a reader gets confused or starts to see the man behind the Oz mask, if you will, meaning how you’ve put your story together or if something you’ve done isn’t working quite right, they get pulled out of the story. Novelist John Gardner is attributed to describing the act of reading as entering “the fictive dream.” Whatever takes you out of this dream — a strange transition, confusion, a glaring error, character inconsistency, implausible plot — is disruptive to the reader’s experience.

A really common way to wake someone up from the fictive dream is to not ground the reader at the beginning of chapters or in times of transition from one scene/plot point to the next. This is why it’s so important to “ground” the reader in these moments. Whenever a reader reads the first page of a book, the first paragraph of a new chapter, or the transition between two beats, scenes, or moments, they want to know four things:

  1. Who is involved in this story/chapter/scene?
  2. When is this (for the beginning of the novel) and when is this relative to the last chapter or scene (for the rest of the novel)?
  3. Where are we?
  4. What’s going on?

By grounding the reader, you are answering these questions right off the bat, so that there is no confusion and the reader can dive into the novel, chapter, or next scene without being ripped out of the fictive dream by lingering doubt or uncertainty.

I see lots of chapters start with dialogue that is not attributed to anyone with a dialogue tag. That’s not grounding us because we don’t know who is involved right off the bat. It’s also really important to know how much time has passed since we last saw the action of the story. Does the next chapter/scene pick up right away or does it pick up next Wednesday? That’s important to the reader’s sense of story and pacing. I see a lot of opening paragraphs or scenes that take place in some nebulous setting. Whether it’s the same setting as the previous chapter/scene or a new setting, we have to know it and get a sense of it. If we haven’t seen this place before, we need to get some more meaty description. Finally, we should pick up almost immediately what’s going on. If the last chapter/scene ended with the reader expecting something — like the bully saying, “I’ll see you in five minutes for a beat-down,” we’ll be expecting said beat-down the next time we see the character — then tell us right away if our expectations will be met or if we’re in a different scene altogether.

Here’s an example I wrote of an opening paragraph for a chapter that grounds the reader in a way that lets them have their questions answered:

Donny waited until the end of bio period before leaning over to her again. He could almost smell her strawberry shampoo when he got that close. Mr. Stokes was still babbling on about photosynthesis, but it didn’t matter. None of it would matter until Donny did the thing he’d promised himself he’d do.

This obviously continues the story pretty soon after we last left off. We know the characters, the time elapsed (a little bit less than a full class period, we’re guessing), the setting (still bio), a little reiteration of what must’ve happened in the last chapter/scene (the “again” is a clue), and some of what might happen in this chapter/scene (it involves something he’s been planning on doing and the girl, somehow).

What I want to reiterate is that you are the story’s curator. It’s up to you to make sure your reader transitions from chapter to chapter and scene to scene and knows exactly what’s going on. Once you confuse your reader, you lose them. Our prime real estate locations are also prime opportunities for grounding the reader and creating transitions…and prime possibilities for losing your reader, if you don’t ground them in the fictive dream well enough.

Tags:

Writing Woes

August 2, 2010 in Advice, Writing | 22 comments

This email comes from an anonymous blog reader, and I think we can all relate to this concern:

Lately, I have been having trouble finding inspiration and the drive to actually write something. Instead of writing when I sit down with my computer, I end up checking my email, surfing the Web, and discovering other ways to waste precious writing time. In addition to being a bad procrastinator, I also have trouble finding good ideas for novels that sound interesting and appealing to my target audience. I feel like writing is constantly an uphill battle for me. How can you tell if you’re just not meant to be a writer?

Well, there are no guarantees in life, of course. You can never be 100% sure of anything, including whether or not you’re meant to be a writer. Or, I should say, you can be completely sure of it in your head but reality may not always match that conviction. There are several answers to this question, and I will strive to be as comprehensive as possible.

First, why do writers sometimes waste a lot of time and procrastinate when they know they should be writing? The good news is, all of the professional writers I know, many of them bestsellers with lots of books on the shelves, do this. They have good days and bad days, they celebrate and complain, they ride the highs and lows of creativity, just like the rest of us. But writing is their job, they’re getting paid, they have deadlines, so the most successful of them keep showing up to the page to write, even if they don’t feel like it. Because they are writers. So one piece of advice I can give you right off the bat is to keep writing and keep up your habit. If you find yourself avoiding a part in your novel that’s challenging or doesn’t feel right for some reason, skip that part and write around it. The temptation to avoid writing something and stay blocked is always there, but the trick is to keep writing past it, around it, underneath it, and the block will loosen up eventually.

The other part of the equation, of course, is the idea and the project. Sometimes, the writing urge may be there but writers get derailed by an idea that just won’t come together. So they stop writing, but the writing isn’t actually the problem. Writing a novel is a long process full of frustration and crisis (for the writer and the character, ideally). If you are losing excitement for your idea, you are going to be your own worst cheerleader. I say it’s perfectly fine to put a novel idea aside if it isn’t working or if inspiration has struck elsewhere. You can always open the file back up and start typing at another time. But if you have ideas you’re not excited about, how do you expect readers to get psyched?

So there are three issues at play: the writing, the point in the story that may be causing you to avoid it, the story idea itself. Diagnose which is making you stuck. Most likely, it is story-related. Jazz up your story or start another one. If it really is the writing, maybe take a break. If you miss it and want to come back, that will reinvigorate you.

One way writers tend to get frustrated, also, is by setting too-high goals for themselves right at the beginning. When I started writing, as a teen, I told myself that I would be completely unacceptable as a human being unless I published a novel by age sixteen. Did that happen? No. Did that put a lot of pressure on my writing at the time and take the fun out of it? Absolutely.

The fact is, not everyone who strikes out to publish a novel will end up reaching that goal. But there are many more writers out there than authors who have books on the shelves. If writing is something you are called to do for life, it you can’t think of doing anything else, then take the heat off yourself in terms of seeking publication. Take a little bit of time off. Get back into why you love writing in the first place. No matter what anybody says, publishing will still be there when you want to take another run at a book contract or an agent.

But if you find yourself churning out joyless, passionless stories or writing, day after day (and not just a brief block or period of depression), something is wrong, and you should fix it before you slog through to the query and then submission. If you’re not excited, it’ll be hard for us to get excited, too.

Tags: ,

Prime Real Estate

July 30, 2010 in Advice, Writing | 21 comments

I’m not a real estate agent, but I do know there are things that real estate agents do to sell a house: they play up the important features. Their other favorite thing to talk about, if it’s good, is the neighborhood and the location of the property. After all, isn’t it all about location, location, location? Well, these considerations are applicable to novel craft, because once you know the important information features and the prime locations for material in your story, you can play around and really present your reader with important information, in a way that seems important, and in places that will make it seem even more important. Let me explain…

The way you present information impacts the way a reader interprets its importance. For example, if a character goes on and on about the Thanksgiving turkey, describing its crisp brown skin, succulent aroma, the bedding of rosemary twigs upon which it rests, the legs tied together with twine, etc., and completely glosses over the conversation that reveals that the character’s parents are getting a divorce, what do you think will be memorable in that scene? The more descriptive (and scene) space you give something, the more characters think and talk about it, the more important it will become in the reader’s mind.

This can work against you — if you’re not aware of this and spend lots of time describing stuff that will not be important as the novel progresses — or for you — if you are aware of this and use this to craft where your reader’s attention goes. In other words, prime real estate in your novel is anything that takes up a lot of space (it’s good and noteworthy to have acreage, you know?). Readers will automatically equate space and words spent talking/thinking about something with its overall value to the book.

The other consideration is location. The prime real estate in any novel is: the first page of the novel, the first paragraph of a new chapter, and the last paragraph of a chapter. These spaces are special and should not be treated like any others in your manuscript. After all, a real estate agent who has a property with panoramic city views, a Central Park West address, or a location with a private beach, goes above and beyond when listing this special location. The ad is glossier, there is a whole album of pictures, the font is more refined, etc. You should lavish care on your entire manuscript, of course, but pay special attention, after you’ve polished everything, to the prime real estate listed above.

Whatever you put on the first page of your manuscript will seem really important to the rest of it. If you start with something that never appears again (and this is where prologues can get hairy) or if you give the reader all description and no character, that is a missed opportunity. The opening paragraphs of subsequent chapters are your chance to ground the reader in what has just happened or what will happen for the rest of the chapter (a post on “grounding the reader” later). The end of a chapter has one job and one job only, just like that house with the panoramic city view: sell. You need to give your reader a new detail, a cliffhanger, or just enough tension so that they immediately flip to the next page instead of using the chapter break as a natural resting point and putting the book down.

Most novels that have strong narrative really use the prime real estate as a special opportunity. It’s there to keep the reader informed, to highlight important information or characters, to keep the reader hooked, and to otherwise anchor the structure of the novel. Make sure you’re paying special attention to the prime real estate you’re working with, just like a real estate agent would.

Tags: , , ,

Shooting Glances

July 28, 2010 in Writing | 30 comments

There are a lot of glances being shot on the pages of most novels. Sarcastic ones, annoyed ones, angry ones…characters always seem to have meaningful looks and glances for each other.

This is often a tic for writers. What do I mean by “tic”? Something you do in your writing that you’re not aware of. Something you usually do a lot. Some writers have favorite words, other writers have pet descriptions, and yet others have go-to actions and gestures for their characters.

Why do I think so many writers rely on “She shot him a glance” or “He gave her a look” in their writing? Because it’s a cinematic construct that we’re used to in movies and on TV. When a real life person or a movie character shoots a glance, we can read their body language, see the expression on their face, and interpret meaning from their eyes.

Right away, we can get the flavor of the look or glance and what it is meant to communicate to the target character and to us, the viewer. Loaded looks are pretty much the staple of soap operas and sitcoms. A lot goes without being said in words in these visual mediums.

But that’s just the problem. In prose, we don’t have the added benefits of seeing the character’s facial expressions or reading their looks as they give another character a meaningful glance. And if we can’t see the look…it loses a lot of its meaning. The glance becomes vague instead of specific, as it can be on the screen. And vagueness is the death of good prose.

What’s the solution? Try to wean yourself off of glances. Sure, you can use a well-placed glance or look if you have enough context to make it count. And you can always qualify the glance, ie: “She shot him a murderous glance” or “He fired daggers at her with his eyes,” but these are so overused that they’ve verged into cliche territory. It may be easier to just face it — a loaded look in prose will never carry the same weight as it does in visual mediums — and more on to finding a fresher way for characters to communicate, something that reads better on the page.

Tags: ,

Picture Book or Short Story?

July 26, 2010 in Agent, Publishing, Writing | 19 comments

This is a comment I make to writers often, and it’s a heartbreaking one, at first, but one that is encouraging if you really think about it. Often, I receive picture book submissions that are nice, well-written, tell a story or have a nice poem in them, and are, overall, pleasant to read.

But are they a picture book or are they a short story that’s more suited for the magazine market than the book market?

I assume that adult non-fiction editors see this issue all the time. They get proposals for non-fiction books that are too narrow in scope or too limited in audience and they suggest that the author pursue it as a non-fiction magazine or how to piece instead.

That’s never something a writer wants to hear, of course. But it is good feedback. That means the reader found something in you writing style that’s good and they liked your idea…they just don’t think you can carry an entire book with your concept.

I see this a lot in my picture book submissions with clever poems, poems about an object or character rather than an event, and stories that are just too specific to be universally appealing. The picture book market is really, really, really (seriously) tough right now. Editors are looking for the most universal, marketable, trade-oriented picture books right now. Sure, they want quirky and funny, but they also want character-driven stories that have a dramatic arc and are also something that the most possible readers will relate to.

So if I get a poem about swirling leaves in autumn, that might be too quiet and not have a character or story to drive it. Or if I get a story about a character who just couldn’t tie her shoes, that might be really character-driven, yes, but without a lot of story to back it up. Maybe I receive a character-driven story, but it’s about a family who lives on a maple syrup farm in Vermont (I just came from Vermont for a conference and LOVED IT!). That’s lovely, has a story, and has characters, but it might be too niche to appeal to a wider audience, and might be a better fit for a magazine (maybe for an autumn issue) or a regional press that could publish a very specific picture book and get it to a more targeted audience (say, Vermonters or maple syrup enthusiasts).

The most frequent question I ask myself, when looking at a picture book, after I see that the writing is publication-ready and of a certain level, is: Is this a story that will appeal to a wide market?

If not, I suggest that the author try another market, like magazines or a regional/small/specialized press.

The other ruler I use in my head is the fact that a picture book is about a $50,000 investment for a publisher. An agent told me this figure once and it has always stuck with me. What goes into this investment? This is obviously a simplified example with simple math, but it’s worth paying attention to. The $50,000 investment covers the author’s advance, the illustrator’s advance, the publisher’s overhead costs that pay the editor and designers who work on it, the costs of production, producing test copies and f&g’s, marketing, etc. And that’s before publication. Once the book is ready to sell, there are other costs, per copy, once the book is actually being printed, shipped, distributed, warehoused, and put on shelves.

A magazine has a much lower financial investment for each piece they publish. Sure, they pay much less money to run your piece and you’ll never get to see it fully illustrated or see royalties from it, but the magazine is also much more likely to buy your piece and do something with it than a publisher who is looking at that $50,000 figure in their minds when deciding whether or not to acquire your work.

In today’s really difficult picture book market, I am forced to look at stories like this, too. While I naturally have a more literary, more obscure, more quiet sensibility based on what I grew up reading, I’m seeing some quieter and more literary projects rejected once I go out on submission with them, so I have to look at commercial considerations. I have to think: “Is this a $50,000 story?”

If it’s not, it very well could have a life in print…just maybe in a magazine or with a regional publisher. The good thing about magazines, also, is that you only use certain rights when you publish, and you may be able to exploit that same story in other markets or the book market once it has been published in a magazine. Lots of food for thought for picture book writers. A great place to see some magazine markets for children’s work is the 2010 Children’s Writer’s and Illustrator’s Market, published by Writer’s Digest Books and edited by Alice Pope. Tons of magazines and smaller presses are listed there for your perusal…and submissions!

Tags:

Similarities to Existing Clients

July 23, 2010 in Agent | 17 comments

One good and well-meaning piece of advice floating around online is: research an agent’s list and query that agent if your project is similar to what they already represent. This makes total sense, right? If they liked it once, they have a high chance of liking it again and representing your similar project.

And this is, like I said, good advice. It encourages you to do research and to choose your submission list carefully and with good reason.

On the other hand, though, you could set yourself up for disappointment by doing this. There are two ways to miss the mark with this strategy. An agent’s deals on Publishers Marketplace, where a lot of writers get information about books an agent has sold, are usually for books that haven’t come out yet, if the deal is recent. That means you can’t find the book and check it out. The agent knows that book better than you do, then, so they know for sure whether your project and their existing project are similar or not. If you see that they sold a mermaid project recently, and you have a mermaid project, those two projects could be similar in subject matter, sure, but maybe they’re actually completely different: yours is a frothy romp, the sold project is a dark tragedy. So you never know for sure.

This brings up a very important point: you should look for similarities in tone, voice, style, characterization…not just subject matter. It’s the subject matter that could get you in trouble, but those other elements, themes, and craft considerations, could get you through the door. Why? Read on!

If your book is too similar to an agent’s existing sale, the agent could pass on your project because it could, in fact, be competition. And an agent doesn’t want to compete with his or herself, meaning they don’t want to sell two books that would take business away from each other when on the same bookstore shelves. An agent wants all their clients to do well. If they sell too many similar books, they are cannibalizing their own list, especially if the books are slated to come out around the same time. So if you target agents and cite previous projects that are too close, you may get a pass from that agent you were hoping to work with.

The other side of the coin is for the agents themselves. I’ve spoken to a lot of agents who are frustrated because they have become “known” for a certain type of book. And, for the reasons stated above, they can’t sell too much of that type of book without doing potential damage to existing clients’ titles. So they want to branch out and do other things…but writers keep sending them the type of book they’re known for.

For example, Stephenie Meyers’ agent is Jodi Reamer, at Writers House. I haven’t personally read Jodi’s slush, but I could make a very educated guess and say that it probably contains a lot of vampire books. Why? Because Jodi has a very well-known track record with vampires.

But do you think Jodi will jump on every vampire manuscript that comes along and risk a) cannibalizing Stephenie’s book sales (as if that was possible!) or b) try to place yet another vampire book in a crowded vampire market? I can’t say “no” for sure, but that would be my best guess.

So I would say that research is really important, but you may find that the common ground you think you have with an agent may actually decrease your chances of placing a manuscript with them. Unless, of course, you don’t use subject matter as your criteria for similarity. There are many other ways in which books can be similar.

For example, “My book has vampires, just like your client Stephenie Meyers’ book!” may not get you far, but “This book has a romantic feel and a star-crossed relationship at the heart of it” or “This manuscript has a sarcastic tone that reminded me of another book on your list” might, since those themes and voices, not the subject matter of the story, are attractive to the agent.

Tags:

Do Unpublished Writers Have to Blog?

July 21, 2010 in Advice, Publishing, Writing | 57 comments

ETA after reading comments: If you’re happy to blog, please do it. This post is geared mostly to people who are on the fence and who are feeling pressure to start a blog because they hear that’s what they’re supposed to do. The tone of this question is usually, “Do I have to blog?” I’ve changed the title to reflect the framing.

This is a question that comes up a lot at conferences and from people who email me. It’s the familiar scenario: You’re an unpublished writer chasing publication. You don’t have a book or a deal to blog about yet, but you’ve heard that writers need platform and Internet presence, and you’ve heard that blogs get you friends and traffic and riches and unicorns, and you’ve also heard about this Twitter thing. Yet it sounds overwhelming. And you wonder if you have enough to blog about. You wonder if you have the time to keep up with all these things.

But the online writing community you see other unpublished writers enjoying keeps bugging you — You have to blog! You have to Tweet! You have to Facebook!

What do you do?

I’m going to say, probably, the exact opposite of what you’d expect. See, I’m a person who blogs. And I have a Twitter. And I’m on Facebook. I also grew up in the Silicon Valley and worked for a bunch of Internet start-ups before I got involved in publishing. You think I’d be totally into unpublished writers blogging, Tweeting, flickring, Buzzing, Facebooking, and all that. Right?

Wrong.

I never look at the blogs of people who query me unless they can give me some kind of impressive fact, like “30,000 people visit this blog per month” or “I draw a daily web cartoon and have a following” or “I’ve created an interactive game that you can play” or whatever.

If you’re iffy on blogging and worry, already, that you’ll run out of material, I say don’t do it. There are too many bad blogs, blogs about people’s cats (I swore I would never blog about my cat…then she got sick and I freaked out and I blogged…at every conference I attend, people still ask me about my cat!), blogs about their word count for the day and what book they’re reading, blogs by people who think they need a blog. Don’t add one more to the pile. Blogs without good, useful information or blogs by a clearly reluctant author are the worst.

The thing about blogs is that they’re a living thing. Blogs take your most recent entry and post it first. For the savvy, content-rich blog, that’s great. For the reluctant blog, that’s bad. Readers can log on and see the exact date when you lost your zest for blogging or ran out of content. And I’d say that a blog last updated in September 2009 is worse than no blog at all. It makes you seem out-of-date, irrelevant…maybe even dead. (Old blogs frozen in time are almost creepy.)

Fiction writers don’t need to pay attention to that whole “You have to have a platform” myth as much as nonfiction writers do. If you’re writing a novel or a picture book…what is your platform? That you like writing and you’re writing a novel or a picture book. Just like all the other writers out there. Unless you happen to be an expert in a subject matter that plays into your fiction, or you’re some other kind of professional writer who is crossing over, you’re not going to have any more platform than that.

The reason why I’m so negative about unpublished writers blogging and Tweeting is that it’s usually not good content. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the Internet from actually working for it for all those years, it’s that users come to the Internet to see, “What’s in it for me?” They want valuable content that speaks to them. They Google: “How do I get this stain out of my white carpet?” “Is it okay that my baby is turning sort of purple?” (It’s probably not.) “How do I stop the hiccups?” “What’s a great summer BBQ recipe?”

Most writing blogs — and most blogs in general — are about the writer of the blog, not about the user. I have a blog, but you’ll notice that I try to keep myself and my life out of it (and I was doing a dang good job until my cat got sick!). I want to use this space to give you valuable content, because I know that’s what people want from me. At the end of the day, they have their own cats to worry about, but they would like some writing and publishing advice.

Unpublished writing blogs do one positive thing, usually: they foster community among other unpublished writers. You can come gripe about rejections, brag about word count, share your successes and frustrations and make friends. While that’s nice for you, it has little value to an agent or editor (and not all of us feel this way, so please take this as my opinion) who comes to visit. Unpublished writers also write about writing in their blog, and that may attract other unpublished writers, but it does have a limited reach. Published writers who write about writing usually attract a wider audience, as they have perceived authority.

If you have a blog where you can give people really valuable content, tips, and things to make their lives better (or at least to give them good cocktail party conversation), do it. If you are just thinking of blogging because everyone else does it or you heard that agents won’t consider you unless you have a blog, don’t.

Plus, Web 2.0 (social networking) is a time suck. You can go pretty far down the rabbit hole with Tweets and Facebook updates. Then you lose sight of the thing that’s really going to get you published: writing.

Focus on your writing. And if you feel the need to be online, which you should, at least in some small way, put up a simple three page site: main landing page with info about your work, about you page, contact page. That’s it, and it should be cheap to make a page that actually looks good and professional.

Once you’re under contract with a publisher, of course, everything changes. You’ll have stuff to say. You’ll have a book to sell. You’ll have events to publicize. You’ll have readers who want to know more about you. For now, though, don’t bow to the peer pressure if you really don’t feel comfortable blogging or Tweeting or Facebooking.

Tags:

« Older entries § Newer entries »