01.27.10
Posted in Editorial Musings at 8:15 pm by Administrator
So many authors dream the dream: Write a book, get picked up by a major publisher, pocket a hefty advance, watch readers snatch your book off bookstore shelves and wait for hours just to get your autograph, meet Oprah, meet the screenwriter who will help you turn your book into a major motion picture, accept a Pulitzer, closely followed by an Oscar.…
Okay, that’s a pretty extravagant dream. Let’s stop right before we meet Oprah. That gives our dreaming author a major publisher, a nice advance, and a wildly popular book. Still a big dream, and one that relatively few authors will realize. How about a small publisher, little or no advance, and modest sales? Some authors dream of this (for example, those of us who feel ill at the mere thought of becoming accidentally famous). But even this smaller dream will not work out for many writers.
So how about self-publishing? You do all the writing, editing, and designing yourself, or you write the book and then pay someone to do the editing and designing. Your work is available through a print-on-demand publisher, or you pay a publisher to print a certain number of copies of your book. The marketing is up to you, and unless you’re savvy about such things or know someone who is, you probably won’t sell many copies, which means you won’t make much money. You might even lose money. Sounds like a lousy deal, right?
Actually, I think self-publishing is a great deal for many authors. I know so-called “vanity” presses get a bad rap from the “real” publishing world. In fact, I used to be one of those people who sniff at self-published books and call them rotten. If the book had any merit, it would get picked up by a major publisher, right? Well, maybe.
The fact is, many talented authors with stories worth telling will never see their books in print—at least not under the imprint of a big publishing house. This could be a sad fact, but it doesn’t have to be. There is another fact to keep in mind: Authors today have more options than ever for getting their work into readers’ hands.
When you’re thinking through your many publishing options, start by deciding what you want. If you think your book will appeal to a large audience and you really want to see it on bookstore shelves, you’ll want to do the work of finding a good agent and a deal from a major publisher. If your work appeals to a smaller audience or you wrote it mostly for fun or you want to have absolute control over your marketing and message, self-publishing might be a good option for you. If you’ve been turned down by publisher after publisher and you’re about to give up and never write another word again, self-publishing might be a good option for you.
One last note: Self-publishing your book does not close the door on “real” publishing. Perhaps you’ve heard of Christopher Paolini, the young author of the Inheritance series (Eragon, Eldest, and Brisingr). His first book was self-published, but it gained a following and eventually fell into the hands of the right person. Paolini’s books went on to become bestsellers, and Eragon was made into a movie.
And so the dream lives on.
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01.25.10
Posted in Darn Good Reads at 9:13 pm by Administrator
When I was quite a few years younger, I read only “serious,” “grown-up” books. Now I’m old enough (barely old enough, mind you) to admit that was a stupid, boring way to approach my reading life. These days I have a rule: For every grown-up book I read, I have to read at least one kids’ book. Actually, lately it’s mostly the other way around: For every kids’ book, I try to read one grown-up book. Sometimes I do not succeed, especially when I get involved with a series like Percy Jackson & the Olympians.
This series, by Rick Riordan, is fun, funny, full of adventure, and has a special appeal to those of us who studied classics in college. Percy is just an ordinary kid with ADHD, until he discovers he is the son of a god—the son of an Olympian god, that is. His mother is mortal, and his father is … On second thought, I’m not going to tell you. I’ll give you a clue though: Think water. Part of the fun in reading about Percy’s adventures is trying to put all the clues and hints together to name the god (or monster) in question before Percy does. And every once in a while, someone says something in ancient Greek—a little extra challenge for those of you who struggled to translate Herodotus and Xenophon and Homer in your Greek classes. Did I mention this is fun?
Another thing I enjoy in The Olympians series: The girls kick butt. Some adventure books are all about the boys. At least that’s how it was when I was growing up. The boys went out and did stuff while the girls stayed home to play dolls. For those of us girls who grew up climbing trees and having imaginary sword fights, changing a doll’s diaper just never cut it. Now girls in books get to actually have brains and be good at stuff—stuff like kicking a monster’s butt. I think this is a good thing, for girls and for boys.
I have so far read only the first three books in the series (I broke down and decided to read one of those “serious” books this week), but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed them and can’t wait to get my hands on the next two books. If you need to get in touch with your inner 12-year-old, give Percy Jackson a try.
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01.22.10
Posted in Editorial Musings at 2:18 pm by Administrator
Words are funny things. We like to think we’ve got them all figured out, that our dictionaries somehow cement a word and its meaning into one unchangeable thing. But words are smarter than that. A word’s life is lived on the pens of poets and the tongues of common speakers, and no dictionary (or editor’s red pen) can end those lives (though the editors will insist on trying).
Take the word ornery, for example. This word, according to The Merriam-Webster New Book of Word Histories, began life as a dialectical pronunciation of the word ordinary. It first meant, well, “ordinary.” Having an ornery neighbor was probably a pretty good thing. Ornery then took on the connotation of “common, mean, or low,” which is the meaning Mark Twain used when Huckleberry Finn described himself as “low-down and ornery.” That ornery neighbor might be a little less desirable now. Then ornery took another turn and acquired its current definition of “having an irritable disposition.” Now you need to stay on the good side of your ornery neighbor or he just might leave a dead squirrel in your mailbox.
That’s the official history of ornery to date, but I think there’s something else going on with this word. In formal writing, ornery means “irritable,” but in less formal contexts (i.e., common speech) it also seems to mean something like “prone to causing trouble.” So an ornery neighbor might dress a dead squirrel in a tutu and leave it in your mailbox just for kicks. I’ve heard quite a few people described as “ornery” (mostly boys I knew in elementary school), and very few of them were irritable; they were mostly just troublemakers. Of course, there is still the ornery, cantankerous old coot who will blow up your mailbox if you look at him wrong; he’s certainly irritable.
You could argue that ornery is merely being misused by people who don’t consult the dictionary before they open their mouths. Or you could take this as another interesting twist in the life of a word. I’m going with the interesting-twist theory.
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01.20.10
Posted in Editorial Musings at 2:57 pm by Administrator
I have learned an important lesson this morning: Blueberry pancakes are not brain food. They smell heavenly and taste delicious, but once they’re in your stomach they sit there like a lump, releasing a steady dose of pancake molecules whose sole mission is to put brain cells (and editors) to sleep. Coffee will not save you, no matter how many cups you drink.
Yes, I learned this the hard way. Early this morning I headed off to the local Bob Evans to treat myself to a yummy breakfast of something other than hot five-grain cereal with walnuts and dried cranberries (my usual at home—excellent brain food, by the way). I was feeling daring (a bad sign) and ordered pancakes instead of boring old scrambled eggs and home fries with wheat toast.
What does my breakfast have to do with editing? Everything. Nearly three hours after I ate, my stomach still feels heavy, and so does my brain. Here’s a very important message for all you young editors out there: You need your brain. An editing brain should be quick and agile, not plodding and sleepy. Editing with a heavy, pancake-sodden brain is not fun. Just trust me on this. I have sacrificed my own brain for your benefit.
So, please learn from my mistake. Forgive me for sounding like your mother, but make sure you eat a good breakfast every day. I recommend hot cereal with nuts and fruit, coffee or tea in moderation, maybe some eggs once in a while. Just say no to blueberry pancakes (or doughnuts, or other sweet and doughy things), no matter how they tempt you. Your whole body will thank you.
Now, when can I take a nap?
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01.18.10
Posted in Editorial Musings at 9:50 pm by Administrator
Thesaurus lovers rejoice! On this day in 1779, one Peter Mark Roget was born in London. Roget was a doctor, he invented a new and improved slide rule, and he studied optics. I knew none of that before I read today Writer’s Almanac. Until this morning, I knew just one thing about Roget: He was a classifier of words, a sorter of terms. He published Roget’s Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases Classified and Arranged So as to Facilitate the Expression of Ideas and Assist in Literary Composition in 1852.
I am holding in my left hand a tattered paperback copy of Roget’s Thesaurus (Revised Edition, in Dictionary Form). This version has a much shorter title and contains many more words than Roget’s original. It has been with me for nearly thirty years. I’m not sure, but it might be a book I “borrowed” from my father and never returned (sorry, Dad). The green cover is as familiar as Mom’s three-alarm chili. This is one of those books with a permanent home on my bookshelf, not because I refer to it often but because I’m pretty sure the universe would end were it not for good old Roget anchoring one end of my reference book collection. An equally tattered Webster’s New World Dictionary has the other end. These two old friends are books I gaze at often but touch rarely.
Such was not always the case.
Thanks to work begun by Roget, I was highly successful at coming up with wonderful words and turns of phrase in my high school English courses. Actually, “wonderful” is perhaps not quite the right word there; “longer, more complicated, and more deserving of the attention of my somewhat underdeveloped yet overutilized adolescent intellect” is more accurate (but even Roget couldn’t help me find a word to say all that – or maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough). Anyway, let’s agree to call those words and phrases “interesting” and move on.
The point is, I was in the thesaurus a lot. It helped me with my writing, especially poetry assignments. No, I won’t bore you with any old poems. I will tell you that a thesaurus in the wrong hands can be a dangerous thing. Indiscriminate thesaurus use can turn a simple sentence like “The cow jumped over the moon” to “The ruminant somersaulted through the satellite.” This may seem like an extreme case of abuse, but I’ve seen worse in these editorial trenches. Trust me, sometimes it gets ugly in here.
But let’s think of happier things. For homework, write a pithy and amusing poem using only words you find in the thesaurus, and be certain to recollect that you must render unto Mr. Roget your expressions of profound gratitude when your ode has reached its expiration. Or you could just say, “Thanks, Pete.”
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01.11.10
Posted in Editorial Musings at 9:41 pm by Administrator
Many of you know that I have been working on a little book for a couple of years now. Well, I have finally finished it, more or less, and I recently published it with Lulu.com (which I can now officially recommend to those of you who are thinking of self-publishing). I ordered one copy for myself so I could determine exactly how embarrassing it might be to show the actual book to other people who are not my mother. Ever since the book arrived on Friday, I’ve been going through it and have found about 637 things I wish I had done differently. I think that’s pretty good, and I’m only somewhat embarrassed, so I’m ready to turn my sales pitch loose on you.
Queen Paisley the Magnificent is a little story about a day in the lives of our pets. Actually, it’s a story about the strangest day any of our pets has ever seen. The humans have disappeared, or so Paisley (a cat) thinks. What’s a cat to do when her humans are gone and there’s a household to be run? Declare herself queen, of course! So that’s what Paisley does. Adventure ensues, accompanied by mild hilarity (but not accompanied by sex, violence, or vulgarity).
I wrote Queen Paisley as a children’s chapter book, mostly for fun and to give to family as gifts. But, hey, I wouldn’t mind selling a copy or two. Go take a look at Queen Paisley the Magnificent. If you buy a copy, thank you—and be gentle with me when you run into some of those 637 things I wish I had done differently. If you don’t buy a copy, at least you’ll get to see a picture of my cat. I think she’s pretty darn cute—and she’d make a terrific queen.
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01.04.10
Posted in Editorial Musings at 2:20 pm by Administrator
Today is Sir Isaac Newton’s birthday. He was born in England in 1643 (that’s according to the Gregorian calendar—it’s December 25, 1642, for those of you still on the Julian system) and grew up to be a genius in physics and mathematics. Newton provided explanations for many physical phenomena, including light, motion, and why I haven’t done much in the past week or so.
Okay, my personal inactivity probably doesn’t rank with other physical phenomena—gravity, for instance—but I’m still prepared to offer a real, science-based explanation for it. Okay, the real explanation involves authors who didn’t have their books ready for me, a nasty head cold, and an excess of Christmas cookies, but that’s just between you and me. The Newtonian explanation is way more interesting and could even be the subject of a future doctoral dissertation.
If you were not too traumatized by your high school physics class, you may remember Newton’s first law of motion:
An object at rest tends to stay at rest and an object in motion tends to stay in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.
Now, replace “object” with “editor.” “An editor at rest tends to stay at rest and an editor in motion tends to stay in motion …” This is beautiful. Thank you, Sir Isaac, for formulating such a simple, concise explanation for editorial activity/inactivity.
Perhaps you don’t believe me. Perhaps you’re stuck on the head-cold-and-Christmas-cookie explanation. Oh, ye of little minds.… Listen, when I have 27 things to do in a day, I work like a crazy person and accomplish 24 things. I’m in motion, and I stay in motion all day. When I have two little things to do in a day, I fall asleep. No motion, no accomplishment, zzzzz.… But wait, there’s more! I was in motion last week, until I was acted upon by an unbalanced force in the form of a virus. My speed slowed, my direction changed, and I fell asleep—a lot. No motion, no accomplishment.
I expect the Newtonian Theory of Editorial Inactivity to be controversial at first (such breakthroughs usually are, especially among clients of inactive editors), but in time it will be widely accepted. We’ll find some brilliant mathematician to formulate the Inactivity Equation, and the theory will be featured on the Science Channel.
Today I intend to delve deeper into Newton’s theory by setting myself in motion once again. I should accomplish 24 things (okay, maybe 22) before lunch. Then I’ll fall asleep.
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Posted in Editorial Musings at 2:16 pm by Administrator
This is for all you fiction writers. More specifically, this is for all you fiction writers who have talking animals in your stories (I know I’m not the only one).
Thanks to a recent lull in the editing action, I’ve had time to work on my own book. (I swear I’m going to finish it this time!) The book is called Queen Paisley the Magnificent, and it’s all about what would happen if our three cats and one dog thought that all the humans in the house had been eaten by wild animals. Obviously, what would happen is this: Paisley (a cat) would declare herself queen, after which some fun, chaotic things would happen. But none of that is my point.
The animals in the story have to communicate somehow, so I turned them into talking animals. All well and good, but if you’ve ever written a book you’ll know how it can more or less take over your life. I wrote the first draft of Queen Paisley two years ago, and it’s been floating around in my brain ever since. It’s floated around so much that I’m starting to think that maybe some of the stuff in it actually happened. If you knew Paisley, you’d know that her declaring herself queen is not so far-fetched.
Now I’m coming to my point. One day I closed down the book file after a few hours of work, I turned to the dog (Shannan, my faithful office companion) and said something to her, and then I waited for her to answer. I was actually quite surprised when she did not answer. For just a moment I thought she must be upset with me, or perhaps she hadn’t heard me. Then I remembered: Dogs don’t talk in the real world.
Looking back, I suppose I should be relieved the dog didn’t answer me. Blogging about the riveting conversation I had with our dog might be a great way to entertain my readers, but I suspect it would be really bad for the editing business.
So, for those of you who might be worried about me, let me assure you of this: Yes, I’m talking to animals, but no, they’re not talking back (so far).
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