(Crow and Companion in kitchen before attending a wedding.)Companion: Why in god's name is there a painting of the cat above his food dish?Crow: Well, obviously, so that he knows where to find his food. And that it's his.Companion: A sign would have been too simple?Crow: Oh, come on—he's a cat. He can't read.
[Update: Apparently Galleycat discussed this yesterday here.]A letter that has gone out to authors from one of the smaller publishers:
Dear Authors:I hope this e-mail finds you well. Recently we learned of a new policy being implemented by some of our major booksellers. In order for a book to be considered for purchase, a link to the bookseller must be featured on the author’s website. We have found that while the majority of our authors provide links to Amazon, they do not include other major retailers such as Barnes & Noble, Borders, etc. This is extremely important, as buyers have explicitly stated that they will not order books for their stores if the below links are not found on the author’s website. They are now going to each author’s website to check this before placing their order.At the bottom of this e-mail please find URL codes to add to your site. I would also be greatly appreciative if you could send me an e-mail letting me know when you update your site. If someone else handles your site, please forward this email to them and make sure they understand its importance.Although these are important changes for everyone to address as soon as possible, this is especially imperative for those of you with books coming out between January 2010 through April 2010, as those titles are currently being considered by the major booksellers and will [be] “skipped” if your website is not in compliance.Please let me know if you have any questions or need clarification on any of the above information, and [name] and I both thank you in advance for your help with this issue.
The letter than lists links to Amazon, B&N, Borders, Books-a-Million, and Indiebound. But why stop there? Why shouldn't you then have to list all of your local booksellers? Amazon, I believe, pays sites a tiny bit of money for sales that come via click-throughs, but do the other companies? Not that it doesn't make sense to give people as many choices as possible, but ... to have it decreed? And why is it that the chains feel they can dictate what authors have on their websites, anyway? Are they going to post links to the author's sites on their pages? Highlight in any way the authors who are "in compliance"?I have not heard of this sort of requirement from any other publisher, and I wonder if it is only the smaller companies that are being penalized this way by one of the big chains. What gives?
(A silly fanvid of A Room with a View, which features in its opening moments, the question marks I mention in the post below. Certainly not worth watching in its entirety.) Oh, parentheses—this is your day! And semi-colon? Your moment to shine in the spotlight! And oh, lowly em-dash—so overused (even by me), so misused, so much the go-to guy when lazy writers don't know how to punctuate a sentence.Sure, sure, I know. All of you readers and writers don't need to tell me. You could not be more excited. National Punctuation Day! How will you celebrate? Will, you pepper, your paragraphs, with unnecessary, commas? Spill periods ... like sugar ... sprinkles over your ... every spare paragraph break? (No, wait, three periods in a row? That's an ellipsis. Tsk tsk, don't think I'll overlook you, ellipsis—this is your day, too.) Will you, like George Emerson, draw an enormous question mark on your plate on your wall on your life and ponder it, finger to chin, substituting the everlasting "Why?" for true love?Worth remembering Mr. Emerson's entreaty to Lucy Honeychurch on behalf of his son: "I don't require that you fall in love with my boy, but please help him.... Make my boy realize that at the side of the everlasting 'Why?' there is a 'Yes!' and a 'Yes!' and a 'Yes!'" Mr. Emerson gets it: questions and proper punctuation are all well and good, but beside the point. They are frameworks for the answer, the emphatic yes, the heart, the emotional core of the thing.So happy punctuation day, and enough about that drivel. Now get back to the work of limning the limits of the human heart.
It's time to discuss "The Drawer." Oh, don't play coy. You know what I mean. I'm talking the drawer that should house your first baby steps in the writing world. This is the work that's not quite ready for the light of day, the stories that should be put away and forgotten. It's a test run. Dress rehearsal. Of course, the things you mess up in that first project should pave the way for future success.I don't mind sharing--I have a drawer. The first time I took a fiction class was in graduate school, and the first short story I wrote was about a guy, unlucky in love, who falls for the perfect woman: she's beautiful, strong, confident, and she never thinks what he says is trite or boring. Too bad she's also a statue, a marble Helen of Troy he found in the park.Of course, we never realize what we're writing belongs in a drawer until we're finished and have some distance. At the time, I thought my statue story was deep and ironic, and that the cute ladies in the class would totally dig me. "Did you read that story with the statue?" they'd whisper. "He's so contemplative!" Not surprisingly, these conversations didn't happen, as I missed not only the boat but also the whole Eastern seaboard.The sad truth is that you may well be writing a drawer novel right now. But that's okay! We all learn by doing, by revising, and by perfecting. In fact, between the other Upstart Crows, I'm sure we'll have plenty of blog posts that will cover all different stages of revision.But for today, I'm talking about those projects that are beyond help. Some of the lucky ones have a very shallow drawer; others have whole filing cabinets. It's important both to be willing to put a project that's not working aside to focus on newer pursuits, and to make sure that each piece is stronger than the next.So how about it? Do YOU have a project that wound up in the drawer? If so, "pitch" it in 25 words or less in the comments. Bonus points for truly bad ideas. Don't be shy!
It's time to discuss "The Drawer." Oh, don't play coy. You know what I mean. I'm talking the drawer that should house your first baby steps in the writing world. This is the work that's not quite ready for the light of day, the stories that should be put away and forgotten. It's a test run. Dress rehearsal. Of course, the things you mess up in that first project should pave the way for future success.I don't mind sharing--I have a drawer. The first time I took a fiction class was in graduate school, and the first short story I wrote was about a guy, unlucky in love, who falls for the perfect woman: she's beautiful, strong, confident, and she never thinks what he says is trite or boring. Too bad she's also a statue, a marble Helen of Troy he found in the park.Of course, we never realize what we're writing belongs in a drawer until we're finished and have some distance. At the time, I thought my statue story was deep and ironic, and that the cute ladies in the class would totally dig me. "Did you read that story with the statue?" they'd whisper. "He's so contemplative!" Not surprisingly, these conversations didn't happen, as I missed not only the boat but also the whole Eastern seaboard.The sad truth is that you may well be writing a drawer novel right now. But that's okay! We all learn by doing, by revising, and by perfecting. In fact, between the other Upstart Crows, I'm sure we'll have plenty of blog posts that will cover all different stages of revision.But for today, I'm talking about those projects that are beyond help. Some of the lucky ones have a very shallow drawer; others have whole filing cabinets. It's important both to be willing to put a project that's not working aside to focus on newer pursuits, and to make sure that each piece is stronger than the next.So how about it? Do YOU have a project that wound up in the drawer? If so, "pitch" it in 25 words or less in the comments. Bonus points for truly bad ideas. Don't be shy!
Good morning, class! While most of our blog posts consist of fiction-related matters, we have at least a few nonfiction authors in our midst. For that reason, I’ll occasionally devote a blog post to the issues of writing and publishing nonfiction. As the title indicates, today's lesson will serve as a basic nonfiction primer, and I’ll break down the various parts of the nonfiction proposal—and their importance—in subsequent posts.Be sure to take notes—there may be a pop quiz later!Writing, representing, and selling nonfiction is much different than representing fiction in many ways, with one of the main differences being length of the project. With fiction, publishers generally require a completed (and polished!) manuscript before they’ll consider it for publication. For nonfiction, however, publishers will often buy a project based on a 50-page book proposal.Sounds great, right? After all, throwing together a 50-page book proposal is a breeze compared to writing a full-length manuscript. Heck, maybe we should all write more nonfiction! While putting together a nonfiction proposal sounds like much less work in theory, in practice, a certain alchemy is required to bring the various parts of a nonfiction book proposal together.If you’re unsure what information comprises a nonfiction proposal, I’ll list it here (in order of appearance):
Still sounds pretty good, right? Still sounds like a much easier gig than writing a 100,000-word manuscript, right? Before you chuck your novel for the world of nonfiction writing, consider this:When editors read your book proposal, they are scrutinizing your author platform and competitive title section just as closely as they are looking at your writing sample. Why? Because a harsh reality of nonfiction publishing these days is that great writing sometimes isn’t enough to get a project published—or sell a finished book.As a writer of nonfiction, you have a set of responsibilities that fiction writers do not. You must be able to establish yourself as an “expert” or “voice” in your subject area. You must know your competitive titles inside and out, and you must be able to point out why your book is different/better than any of the books already on the bookstore shelves.Taking care to do these things will give you a definite edge over the competition. And of course, signing with a literary agent with experience in your subject area can also help you focus your proposal in order to meet the needs of the marketplace. And in nonfiction publishing, meeting the needs of the marketplace is paramount.Okay, class! That concludes today’s lesson on nonfiction publishing. I hope you found it useful and informative.Now for the Q&A portion of our lesson: Post your questions about the nonfiction market here, and I’ll choose several and provide answers later this week.Happy Monday!
The other day, I mused over which creature was the least likely to become the next vampire. There were some great guesses, including Lovecraftian Monster Gods, rabid hedgehogs, 17 year cicadas, and muppets, but after a lot of soul searching, I think my favorites have to be:
1. Intestinal bacteria: Although normally praised for their ability to turn our food into something, well, a little grosser, I'd be hard pressed to imagine a scenario where our beautiful heroine falls for these little buggers. I mean, it's not like intestinal bacteria have faces, so those make-out scenes every girl craves will probably be a little disappointing. Possible title for a book featuring intestinal bacteria: Breaking Down2.
Tribbles: Sure, tribbles are cute and cuddly, which lends itself to the approval of young girls. But they've also got a real knock against them--their two main purposes in life are to eat and multiply. Even worse, these little guys (or girls?) are born pregnant. It took four Twilight books for a pregnancy to appear. I doubt parents will approve of creatures as into sex as these critters. Possible title for a book featuring tribbles: Wicked Hungry.3.
Chester Cheetah: Although he's supposed to have the cool factor going for him, you can sense it's the sort of manufactured cool compiled by a bunch of suits in a room. Teens can usually see right through such foolishness. Just look at his sunglasses, peace sign, and late 80s sneakers. Dangerously cheesy my foot, Chester. Unless he sparkles in the sun, I think his chances of taking off in young adult literature are slim. Possible title featuring Chester Cheetah: CheeseDust.
(The post below is a rerun from my [Michael's] former blog, As the World Stearns. But I wanted to begin an occasional series on Books We Love, and this seemed as good a launch pad as any. Full disclosure: I’ve edited books by Bruce Coville, so my love of this novel may be suspect. But I didn’t edit this one. This one I came to first as a reader.)
Just as everywhere else, there are injustices in the world of children’s books. One injustice is that many of the best writers are overlooked by awards committees. (Richard Peck gave a dauntingly long list of the overlooked in his Newbery acceptance speech a few years ago now, but I can’t find the damn thing online, else I’d quote from it.) Not because of malice on the part of committees—they are made up of good people, who do a great service—but more because writers are often pegged as a “type” early on, and though the writer quickly outgrows that initial impression, critics sometimes can’t see past their preconceptions.Such may be the case with Bruce Coville, who to my mind is one of our greatest writers for young readers. He makes it look easy, and because of that, his work is too often overlooked, or not looked at very seriously. For some, he is inseparable from his paperback successes (most obviously My Teacher Is an Alien, which has sold millions and which children love). But he’s written many casually brilliant, laugh-out-loud funny, ultimately moving novels about heartbreaking subjects, none so masterfully and lightly pulled-off as Jennifer Murdley’s Toad. Most readers choose the second Magic Shop Book, Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher, as their favorite (Christopher Paolini gives it credit for inspiring Eragon), but my love for Jennifer is greater: There is sad and profound business going on in this novel, but it never feels heavy-handed because Coville’s hand is so light and sure.Jennifer Murdley is a “girl in a plain brown wrapper.” She’s plain, unattractive, a loser in the good-looks lottery. Sadly for her, she’s a child in the image-obsessed United States, and her lack of outward beauty weighs heavily on her. No matter how many times people feed her bromides about “inner beauty,” it can’t counter the truth: She’s not a looker, and she deeply wishes she were beautiful.But leading off by describing it that way makes this sound like one of those dreadful issue novels that typified juvenile literature for a good while there in the eighties. Ugh. Not at all.Though it brims over with heart and serious concerns, Jennifer Murdley’s Toad is a comedy—the kind of book that actually could be described as “madcap,” if that word hadn’t been hollowed out and made hokey through overuse by bad Hollywood copywriters. Coville’s story barrels along from one wildly inventive bit to the next right up to its final pages, pausing here and there to remythologize a few fairy tales, to play havoc with gender stereotypes (the novel opens with Jennifer having to wear her brother’s underwear to school), to create a touching love story among some immortal vermin, and yes, to talk about our image-obsessed culture and all the “beauty victims” in the world.The key to the comedy takes the form of—as it often does in Coville’s novels—a sidekick. Early on, Jennifer acquires an enchanted talking toad named Bufo, and he is the worst kind of smart ass imaginable. Meaning that he takes the role of comic foil to Jennifer’s straight man. He can do impersonations and throw his voice, but mostly Bufo allows Coville to cut loose on just about anything that comes under Bufo’s gaze. He’s a perfect bit of hilarious misdirection so that Coville’s theme never feels as leaden as I made it sound in summary a few paragraphs above. It was this book that showed me how well a sidekick can work in a novel, revealed to me that giving the protagonist a funny companion does more than just provide opportunities for jokes—it allows a writer to cast the main character’s dilemma into sharper relief, create more savage contrasts between How Things Are and How We Wish They Were. And it is in those sorts of gaps that comedy finds its best material.Bufo is more than just a talking toad, however; he is also an agent of change. (If that sounds vaguely metaphorical, well, so be it: This is a novel that is packed full of by-the-way metaphor on every level.) When a person kisses Bufo, that person is transformed into a toad (an awesomely absurd reversal of a shopworn fairy tale trope). And when that toad-person kisses someone else, the person is returned to human form while the kissee is changed into a toad. It’s like kooties. As every kid knows, they can be passed on.Coville is pitiless about putting his characters into the worst situations imaginable, and true to form, he doesn’t spare poor Jennifer. The climax of Jennifer Murdley’s Toad is a heartbreaker (I literally tear up every time I read it), mostly because we feel so much for her. We hope that she’ll someday understand that her looks don’t really matter. Even a toad becomes beautiful once we’ve come to love it, and we love Jennifer more than she loves herself.[A few final NBs:—The full-cast audiobook version is especially worth seeking out, as the actor playing Bufo is superb. He doesn't miss a beat, doesn't misread a single line.
—Tragically, the first few editions of Jennifer Murdley's Toad actually featured pretty girls on the cover. (Talk about missing the point.) Publishers are shy, especially when it comes to portraying less-than-immediately appealing characters on book jackets. Tony DiTerlizzi was kind enough to do the art for the Magic Shop reissues I put out at Harcourt, and it is that cover you see at the start of this post and that you will find on the current version of the paperback in bookstores. ]
(The post below is a rerun from my now in-stasis blog, As the World Stearns. But I wanted to begin an occasional series on Books We Love, and this seemed as good a launch pad as any. Full disclosure: I’ve edited books by Bruce Coville, so my love of this novel may be suspect. But I didn’t edit this one. This one I came to first as a reader.)
Just as everywhere else, there are injustices in the world of children’s books. One injustice is that many of the best writers are overlooked by awards committees. (Richard Peck gave a dauntingly long list of the overlooked in his Newbery acceptance speech a few years ago now, but I can’t find the damn thing online, else I’d quote from it.) Not because of malice on the part of committees—they are made up of good people, who do a great service—but more because writers are often pegged as a “type” early on, and though the writer quickly outgrows that initial impression, critics sometimes can’t see past their preconceptions.Such may be the case with Bruce Coville, who to my mind is one of our greatest writers for young readers. He makes it look easy, and because of that, his work is too often overlooked, or not looked at very seriously. For some, he is inseparable from his paperback successes (most obviously My Teacher Is an Alien, which has sold millions and which children love). But he’s written many casually brilliant, laugh-out-loud funny, ultimately moving novels about heartbreaking subjects, none so masterfully and lightly pulled-off as Jennifer Murdley’s Toad. Most readers choose the second Magic Shop Book, Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher, as their favorite (Christopher Paolini gives it credit for inspiring Eragon), but my love for Jennifer is greater: There is sad and profound business going on in this novel, but it never feels heavy-handed because Coville’s hand is so light and sure.Jennifer Murdley is a “girl in a plain brown wrapper.” She’s plain, unattractive, a loser in the good-looks lottery. Sadly for her, she’s a child in the image-obsessed United States, and her lack of outward beauty weighs heavily on her. No matter how many times people feed her bromides about “inner beauty,” it can’t counter the truth: She’s not a looker, and she deeply wishes she were beautiful.But leading off by describing it that way makes this sound like one of those dreadful issue novels that typified juvenile literature for a good while there in the eighties. Ugh. Not at all.Though it brims over with heart and serious concerns, Jennifer Murdley’s Toad is a comedy—the kind of book that actually could be described as “madcap,” if that word hadn’t been hollowed out and made hokey through overuse by bad Hollywood copywriters. Coville’s story barrels along from one wildly inventive bit to the next right up to its final pages, pausing here and there to remythologize a few fairy tales, to play havoc with gender stereotypes (the novel opens with Jennifer having to wear her brother’s underwear to school), to create a touching love story among some immortal vermin, and yes, to talk about our image-obsessed culture and all the “beauty victims” in the world.The key to the comedy takes the form of—as it often does in Coville’s novels—a sidekick. Early on, Jennifer acquires an enchanted talking toad named Bufo, and he is the worst kind of smart ass imaginable. Meaning that he takes the role of comic foil to Jennifer’s straight man. He can do impersonations and throw his voice, but mostly Bufo allows Coville to cut loose on just about anything that comes under Bufo’s gaze. He’s a perfect bit of hilarious misdirection so that Coville’s theme never feels as leaden as I made it sound in summary a few paragraphs above. It was this book that showed me how well a sidekick can work in a novel, revealed to me that giving the protagonist a funny companion does more than just provide opportunities for jokes—it allows a writer to cast the main character’s dilemma into sharper relief, create more savage contrasts between How Things Are and How We Wish They Were. And it is in those sorts of gaps that comedy finds its best material.Bufo is more than just a talking toad, however; he is also an agent of change. (If that sounds vaguely metaphorical, well, so be it: This is a novel that is packed full of by-the-way metaphor on every level.) When a person kisses Bufo, that person is transformed into a toad (an awesomely absurd reversal of a shopworn fairy tale trope). And when that toad-person kisses someone else, the person is returned to human form while the kissee is changed into a toad. It’s like kooties. As every kid knows, they can be passed on.Coville is pitiless about putting his characters into the worst situations imaginable, and true to form, he doesn’t spare poor Jennifer. The climax of Jennifer Murdley’s Toad is a heartbreaker (I literally tear up every time I read it), mostly because we feel so much for her. We hope that she’ll someday understand that her looks don’t really matter. Even a toad becomes beautiful once we’ve come to love it, and we love Jennifer more than she loves herself.[A few final NBs:—The full-cast audiobook version is especially worth seeking out, as the actor playing Bufo is superb. He doesn't miss a beat, doesn't misread a single line.
—Tragically, the first few editions of Jennifer Murdley's Toad actually featured pretty girls on the cover. (Talk about missing the point.) Publishers are shy, especially when it comes to portraying less-than-immediately appealing characters on book jackets. Tony DiTerlizzi was kind enough to do the art for the Magic Shop reissues I put out at Harcourt, and it is that cover you see at the start of this post and that you will find on the current version of the paperback in bookstores. ]
We've all heard
the speculation as to what sort of creature will become the next vampire or new "it" creature in books, film, TV shows, and ironic indie band names. Will it be werewolves? Zombies? Fallen angels? Romances featuring all these creatures are forthcoming in children's lit, and they'll be fighting, clawing, and howling for top billing on bookshelves everywhere.Rather than speculate which, if any, of these creatures will take the lead and become the new hot, brooding creature of tomorrow, I thought it might be fun to list the least likely monster/creature/beast of lore to next capture the hearts and pocketbooks of countless swooning fans. CHECK HERE for the winners.