Genre limbo

March 31, 2009

All I’ve been hearing is that agents can’t figure out what genre my book fits in.

If your work isn’t easily identifiable for any particular genre, this tells me you’re not pitching it correctly. There are queries that left me scratching my head, wondering about the genre because the author didn’t tell me. I’m a five-year-old at times; I need to be told. YA vs. Adult? Inspirational vs. How To? Historical fiction vs. Fantasy? That’s a pretty big difference in audiences.

If the author tells me their work is intended for YA or inspirational, then I read the work with that audience in mind. Now, that’s not to say I won’t feel the work would be better suited in a different genre, but at least I had a launching point.

I remember rejecting a work because the pitch and first pages gave me the impression it was historical fiction. Not interested in historical fiction. Unfortunately for me, the author was one of those authors who behave badly and ripped me a new orifice.

How DARE you call my work historical fiction! It’s a memoir, you effing moron!

Coulda knocked me over with a feather. If Mr. Snooty Pants had told me it was a memoir, I would have read it from that perspective. It’s not my job to play 20 Questions. I take comfort knowing that I would have rejected it anyway. Note to self: tell the beagle to buy a better brand of tinfoil for my hats.

But the point of all this is that you aren’t just the architect of your stories; you’re also the sales team as well. No one knows your work better, and it’s your job to put on your metaphorical shiny shoes and bright smile and sell the hell out of your work. If  your manuscript saunters into our offices looking all sassy and cool and says, “this is the best damn medical fiction you’ll ever read” [even though your doctor character is a time traveler from the 1920s], I’ll believe you. I’m going to notice the SF references when I read it, and I’ll consider whether the time travel bit plays a big enough part to classify it as SF.

If SF is a very strong element throughout your book, then you need to decide which audience will be more forgiving. Are readers of medical fiction going to enjoy the strong SF overtones? Probably not. They want a traditional medical story that takes place on terra firma. On the other hand, will the SF readers be more forgiving of a SF story with a medical setting. Probably – because SF readers are used to seeing all sorts of different settings.

The author cannot afford to say “I just don’t know how to classify this, so I’ll pitch it as one of those books that live in genre limbo.” I feel my hand quaking for the rejection letter. And please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t classify your work as a genre bender. It’s a cop-out.

Look at it this way. Let’s say you go to the mall and there’s a great looking salesman standing in front of a yellow box. He’s hot. So hot, your buttons are melting off your shirt. He winks at you. Your knees weaken. Oh hell yes, you think. I am so buying whatever he’s selling…just as soon as you figure out what it is he’s selling. Hey, cute buns, you say in a low voice. What’s up with the yellow box? His smile gets even wider. He adjusts his collar so you can see his little chest hairs popping up. Sigh. And then he answers you in a deep baritone:

“I have no freaking idea.”

[sounds of the needle skipping across the record album] You scratch your head and shove your carnal plans into your backpack. Um, if you don’t know what it is, then how can you sell it? And why would I want it?

“Hey, come on,” he says, his voice brimming with confidence, “you have to admit it’s a really pretty shade of yellow. Come on, take a chance and buy it.”

And this is basically what authors do to agents and editors when they don’t choose a genre. I understand there are times when it’s really hard to decide which genre your story fits in. My recommendation is to look at the overall story and see which genre is stronger. Analyze which readership will be more forgiving of the other genre’s elements. Choose one and pitch it. Trust that we’re not complete dolts, and we’ll see if your story would better fit in a different genre. But do give us an initial shove off the pier.

Don’t be a yellow box.


“I’m blocked”

March 30, 2009

This lament came to me over the weekend from an author I’d met at a conference. There has been plenty discussion on blogs and writer’s boards over the legitimacy of writer’s block -whether it’s a figment of a writer’s imagination, ergo laziness, or a real result of the synapses refusing to play nicely with one another.

I call it vapor lock. According to Wikipedia, vapor lock occurs when the liquid fuel changes state from liquid to gas while still in the fuel delivery system. Yup, that about sums it up for me. Our liquid fuel (ideas) must go from our central computer’s delivery system (brain) to real words on paper. But somewhere along the way, the liquid fuel turns to gas while still locked in the central computer’s delivery system, and those thoughts fail to hit the paper. Vapor lock.

I can’t say I’ve ever experienced vapor lock, but I’m not so big an ass as to think it doesn’t exist. Just because I’ve never seen the wind doesn’t mean I don’t feel its effects. A vapor-locked author is no less real. It’s how an author deals with their vapor lock that separates the Twinkie from the cream – or the salt from the margarita.

Do they gut it out and write through the lock? Do they work on another scene? Do they act the scene out, like in a movie, in order to make the scene more real? Do they write a short story in another genre? Do they play on the freeway, or dance on the bar counter singing “I’m a Little Teacup”?

When I asked the author, she gave  me a strange look. “I drink when I get stuck.”

Yikes, I hope she has a good liver and kidney donor.

So short of doing damage to your innards, how do authors deal with vapor lock? Anyone? Anyone?

Bueller?


Bio Bungle

March 30, 2009

I’ve blathered on about writing your bio in your query letter, but Editorial Anonymous hits the proverbial nail on the head.

Like EA, I don’t care if you raise gerbils, love your dog, make your own potato chips, and love to garden. Unless these things make you the best person to have written your book and put you in touch with your readers, then it’s fluff. Fluffy query letters usually get a close shave with a rejection letter.


Vanity Warning: Public service notice

March 29, 2009

An author wrote to me the other day:

I’m really excited. Publisher XYZ told me that my book has a lot of merit, that’s it’s going to be an important addition to the literary world. I’m over the moon! However, they told me that books are really hard to place in the stores, and that they will probably need to ask for a financial contribution from me.

They told me that this is the way the publishing industry is headed. They promised not to ask for much money because they’d be kicking in their portion of finances as well. They feel that if I contribute, I’ll be more likely to promote my book, and the combined funds will give them a strong position to advertise and market the heck out of my book. It seems like a good idea. I mean, if we combined our monies, there would be a lot more to put toward making a big splash. And they did say mine is a really important book.

[head banging on desk] No. This is a vanity press dressed up to bushwhack unsuspecting authors. They compliment the author to butter them up. Once properly buttered and tenderized, they lower the boom; we just lurve your book, but you’re gonna have to pay for it.

These folks excel at one thing; charming your checkbook right out of your pants. They’re like the snake charmer whose flute coaxes the snake out of his basket. It’s seductive and appeals to an author’s vanity – hence the name vanity publishing.

What’s particularly irritating about this vanity publisher is that they hide the fact they are pay-to-play. This is not an accident. They need to snare the author first and make the sale through email, where they expose the big bad “traditional” publishers as not caring about the author and how they [the vanity] will take personal care of them. In truth, the only care they’ll take is stroking your wallet. But by this time, the author has swallowed the Koolaid and forked over a check because they believe this is their only chance at publication.

Makes me want to explode.


Book passages aren’t pitches. Really.

March 27, 2009

There are queries where the author relies on samples of their text to do the work of their pitch. It always confounds me because there is no frame of reference. How does this passage communicate a plot? Am I supposed to tune my tinfoil hat is tuned into their frequency so I can understand the story via osmosis and the space/time continuum? If so, I need the heavy duty tinfoil and maybe some electrodes.

I realize authors include bits of their text into a query in hopes that it will create an emotional connection. It rarely does because I don’t have a clue as to the story. It’s like walking down the street, enjoying the beautiful weather while planning a fabo weekend, and having you jump out from behind the bushes telling me I should be sad. Well…why? Give me some lead-in as to why I should blow a perfectly good joy-joy moment just because you tell me I should be sad. If, for example, you told me your dog had cancer and you had no money for treatment, then I could sympathize and emote appropriately. And probably cough up some money.

That’s the effect these text passages have. If ya want us to read their pages, ya need to make our mouths water so we ask for those pages. Don’t shove a couple paragraphs under our nose, then sit back and say, “Now…ain’t that awesome? Bet you want the full, don’tcha?” Well, um, no, I don’t.

Those paragraphs all by themselves in a query have far less meaning and impact than a whiz bang pitch. Had I asked for pages, I could have actually felt the emotional impact the author was trying to establish in the query. Right words; wrong time.


One of those, “wish I was that clever” moments

March 27, 2009

This has little to do with writing or publishing, but everything to do with being clever, which does make it germane to this blog.

Oh, who am I trying to kid? It’s Friday, and I’m under a hot deadline.  I have nothing clever to add today, so I’m letting Lucy Pepper take over.

Take a look at these, and you’ll love it. Pinky swear.

from on .

from on .


Confidence?

March 26, 2009

Please respond with confidence.

I have seen this line at the end of any number of query letters, and it always leaves me scratching my head. Is this some new way of inviting me to respond to a query? Is this granting me permission to respond, and they won’t bite my head off? That would be refreshing.

How else would I respond? What are my alternatives? I’m a pretty straight-shootin’ gal, so the idea of choices is interesting.

Um…really sorry, but, well, ah, gosh, I’m not sure I’m the right company for your work. Mind you, I, um, could be wrong and if I am, I’m really, really, really sorry. It’s just so hard to say no. Yanno?

Yah, I can see me doing this.


If you can’t beat ‘em; join ‘em

March 26, 2009

“Argh!” the author said as she sat down at her pitch session with me. “Rather than have you read my work, can I just ask you a few questions?”

I blinked, trying to uncross my eyes. Hers was one of eight ten-page submissions I’d read and critted the week before, so I wished I’d known then so I could have granted myself time for other endeavors, but no matter. She looked like her tonsils were going to explode.

“My story is exactly like a movie that just came out.”

[little cricket sounds surrounded me] She’d bagged on a pitch session for this? The classic problem that plagues all writers? “You know how often that happens? About a gabajillion times a month. With every new TV show or movie that comes out, some author wrote a book eerily like it.”

“So how do I pitch this to an editor or agent without them thinking I copied the show or movie?”

“You can’t unless you show them the dates of your files. And at that, who cares? He who hits the marketplace wins. However, not all is lost.”

I went on to tell her the story of our book Marching Up Madison Avenue – a fabulous book about an independent NY ad agency who successfully stood up to the “big boys” during the heyday of the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Then Mad Men came out on TV. Oboy. I remember springing up in the middle of the night with an idea of how to overcome the problem. If I can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, I said to the beagle, who was in the process of taking the warm spot on my pillow. Yeah, yeah, sez she with a soft groan, you do that. Tomorrow. Now shut up and let me get my beagle beauty sleep.

So my cover letters went out to the reviewers with this line, “Marching Up Madison Avenue is what Mad Men should be.” My intent was to acknowledge the TV show beat us to the mark while letting reviewers know that our book was the real McCoy, and they were very influential on advertising of those times. As a result, we had some great reviews. This is the way we will pitch him to colleges and other speaking venues. And actually, the TV show adds relevance to his subject matter.

“Yeah, but this movie sucks. It’s rotten liver from a zombie carcass,” the author said. “I can’t capitalize on the ‘greatness’ of anything about this movie.”

So what, sez me. You can capitalize on its rotten-ness and draw drastic differences between the two. Rather than trying to pretend this movie doesn’t exist isn’t going to work, so embrace it. Look, you have two choices, rewrite it entirely or admit it, and make it work for you. Tell them that your story is what Rotten Movie should have, or could have, been. What’s the worst that can happen? If you get a ton of rejects, then perhaps you will need to rewrite and refine. Try this first if you feel up to it.

Our fifteen minutes were up, and she seemed happier. “I’ll be sending you my query when I get home!” she said in a flurry of excitement.

Oh. Great. I hated that movie, too…


Chocolate martinis really do exist

March 25, 2009

For my British friends who thought I was kidding about chocolate martinis; here is my favorite recipe:

2 1/2 shots vodka  (not flavored)
1 shot dark creme de cacoa
1/2 shot Aquavit

Put ice in shaker and pour ingredients over ice and shake WELL
Strain into chilled martini glass and kiss the rest of the evening goodbye.

Too many of these babies may result in the following:

  • Premature submissulation
  • Wishing for death after consuming five of these little toxic beauties
  • Telling that idiot of a(n) [agent, editor, ex-husband, ex-wife, beagle, tax collector] exactly what you think of them.
  • Sudden outpouring of love for said [agent, editor, ex-husband, ex-wife, beagle, tax collector]
  • Fabulous writing
  • Writing that makes you wonder what planet you were on when you wrote it
  • Did I mention death?

Book launch part-ay rant

March 25, 2009

I love a good book launch. There’s always good food, plenty of wine, great people, and of course, great literature springing into the mix. What’s not to love? It’s part-ay time, and no one has a better time than the beagle and I.

Then there is the flip side, the dark side, the Darth Vader side whose evil personage hisses, “Luuuuke…I’m trying to be just like the real book lauuuunch…” I’m talking about [cue the music] the online book launch.

The online book launch is a WTF moment for me. I understand cyber friends, cyber cards, and reading online [though I will never understand cyber sex. I mean, helloooo?]. But I do not get a cyber book launch; especially when it’s spammed to me. Reader Views [readerviews.com] is one such animal that spams anyone with a pulse. The worst part of this is authors PAY for this service. I’m talking a lot of bananas for their various packages. This site feeds into RebeccaReads.com, where she lists the book launch – and other things – on her site. She also has a nice price list. I singled them out because they seem to be the most prolific spammers I’ve had the non-pleasure of filling my inbox.

And this gets me to the meat of my rant. When you’re paying for promotional services, make sure you’re fully aware of what those services entail. Ask yourself if you get all gooey-eyed over spam and whether some poor slob will stop and think, “Oh golly gosh! Spam! Yes, let’s take a lookie-loo at what they have to say.” Puh-lease. They roll their eyes, belch out a few colorful metaphors and hit the delete button.

Can you really see yourself standing on the top of your barstool to announce that you got a special spammy invite  to a book launch party of an author you’ve never heard of? People would start throwing peanuts and empty beer mugs at you.

These online book launch spams are hacker noob stuff that scream “desperate loser,”  which is uncharitable of me – I know. But come on, is the author so desperate that he’s willing to fork over big bucks to basically throw a dart into the great yonder, hoping he’ll hit the board? How is this more effective than approaching your defined readership? The insidious thing about the online marketers is that one can never be sure of the results since all marketing and promotion is a crap shoot. The online folks can take your money and shrug their shoulders saying, “gosh, we sure tried. Here’s what we did.” Can we verify any of that? It’s very hard. Yet their sites draw you in like the beagle to a chocolate martini. The headlines scream:

Make Your Book an Amazon.com Best Seller!

cost…$275
Anyone advertising this is certifiably insane since there are no guarantees – especially in publishing.

eParty!

cost…$180 [ includes sending an invitation to your mailing list]
I’m fairly suspicious of the mailing list bit because I have never known any of these authors, so how could I be on their mailing list?

Meanwhile sales remain stagnant.

Lordy, Lordy, their services have no end. And all this bugs me because it does little but separate authors from their hard-earned cash. If you’re into dartboards, then go for it. But I recommend that you put your money into a solid promotion plan that puts you in front of a live audience of like-minded readers. You’ll sell far more books and get people talking about your book. Learn the internet so you can make it work for you. There are many excellent online reviewers you can query.

My inbox has had invitations so many times by Reader Views [that feeds into Rebeccas Reads], that I decided enough is enough and used their form email to tell them to remove my name from their spam list. In a blast of irony, they have you fill in the word verification form so they can cut down on the spam THEY receive. As a final insult their word verification was “nospam.”

Beagle, fire up the blender, I feel a migraine coming on…


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