Happy New Year’s Eve…ahh…ahhhh…choo!

December 31, 2009

So we were supposed to go down to Palm Springs today. Kick up our heels, bake in the sun, swim some laps, eat and drink entirely too much, and get generally silly. But I guess the Cosmic Editor in Chief had other plans for this unrepentant editor, and we’re staying home.

Where it’s quiet. And where there is plenty of Kleenex, throat tabs, aspirin, and Vick’s Nyquil.

Now who in their right mind gets sick for New Year’s? No one, right?

I guess that settles it; the debate is over. Pricey is not in her right mind. Never was, never will be.

Word on the street is that the beagle had to cancel a major rager she was planning at our house while we were gone. Serves her right. If I see one more German Shepherd wearing a party hat and holding party favors and a twenty-pack of beer, I’m going to put the beagle up for adoption.

Happy New Year, everyone. Ah…ahhh…ahhhhhh…chooo. Pass me that cuppa tea, willya?

4 Comments | Uncategorized | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

I want this guy to run our PR department…

December 30, 2009

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Posted by lynnpricewrites

Forget New Year’s resolutions, give me Xanax

December 30, 2009

I’ve been trolling around all my favorite writer blogs and boards, and the cyberworld seems to be spazzing out at New Year’s resolutions.

I promise to write 1,000 words a day.

I resolve to read more. [great idea, buy Behler books!]

I plan on querying no less than 5,000 agents and editors. [oy vey]

I will attend at least two writer’s conferences this year.

And the list goes on and on.  And on.

I’m not a one for resolutions because they always seemed like a set-up for failure. I’d look at my list and think, “Oh yeah, I’ll get to that.” Problem was, I’d either lose the list or keep putting it off because it felt too much like a “honey-do.” I shudder at “honey-dos” because they consist of everything I’d rather avoid.

As much as I dislike the formality of New Year’s Resolutions, I do get excited about starting a new year with its pristine slate of twelve months that lay in wait for all things wonderful and exciting. And that is my wish for all the wonderful writers who read our blog.

To that end, I thought I’d do something different, and write about something that impedes writers’ success: Frustration/Depression. Now hold on, I’m not being a Debby Downer here.

I have a new seminar titled “Give Me a Contract or Give Me Xanax.”  It deals specifically with ways to combat that monstrous duo, Frustration andDepression, who always seem to be lurking somewhere near authors’ front doors, waiting to be invited inside for a spell.

One of the things I talk about is the tendency for authors to pile on. It’s so easy to become overwhelmed with the whole publishing process because authors invariably bite off so many things at once.

Eeek, I need to find an agent!

Aaack! I need to know my comparative titles.

Arrrgh! I need understand POV switches and finding my writer’s voice!

Stop already. Take a breath. It doesn’t all come together in one magic moment. Publishing is a learning process, so don’t push it.

For instance, when I cook (god help us all) I clean as I go so the kitchen is always tidy and organized. The Hubby, however, uses every damn pan in the house and just piles it in the sink and on the counter. When dinner is over and I go in to clean up (cardinal rule in our house: He who cooks does not clean), I feel like shooting myself because of the monumental mess. I’m overwhelmed and ready to simply torch the kitchen. I have to take a breath and start with one pan and go from there. It’s a good thing he’s so cute and such a fabulous cook, or I’d kill him.

The writing biz is a lot like my hubby’s cooking mess. The first order of business is to learn how publishing works (this is where the shameless plug for Tackle Box would come in, but I’m far too polite for that) so that you have a firm understanding of how it all comes together. The problem I see with most frustrated/depressed authors is that they have no idea whether their work is publishable or marketable. They think it is, but it’s not based on any kind of research or true understanding.

Confidence

Knowing the business and how people in the publishing industry think and work breeds confidence. You know how to work methodically so you don’t bite off more than you can chew and can’t swallow. Confidence means that you go from being a pie-eyed wanna-be to a realistic writer who can analyze their work objectively. Confidence will help you know when your writing is cow dung and when it’s effective. You’ll understand the marketplace and your readership.

Busy Hands Make Happy Authors

And you’ll stay busy. Most of the successful authors I know always have something cooking on the back burner while they wait for their books to sell. Not every book is meant to see the light of day. Confidence helps with knowing when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em because, hey, we all have a number of manuscripts hiding under our beds. Staying busy means that you’re not in a holding pattern, but keeping your creative mind locked and loaded.

Step Away From the Manuscript

Lastly, know when to take a step back. This is a common trait that I see among frustrated/depressed writers. They believe that stepping back means giving up. Not at all! It means relaxing your overworked brain and heart. It’s a literary vacation. When you return, there is fresh wind in your sails and a stronger rudder in which to steer your writing.

Ok, so this whole seminar is a lot better when I give it in person, but, well, you get the gist.

Good luck to all you wonderful readers in 2010, and hang in there. If this writing gig was easy, everyone would be doing it.

2 Comments | Happy New Year | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

The pox on Christmas cheer

December 28, 2009

Overworked and Underpaid Editor tried to be patient as she stood in line to see Santa, but the beagle was taking entirely too long. What on earth could she possibly want or need? Isn’t her bottle of tequila always filled? Isn’t her pile of designer chewie bones always fully stocked? OW&UP Editor’s toe tapped out an irritated cadence against the cobblestone street.

“Excuse me, Ms. Editor.” OW & UP Editor looked down to see an elf smiling up at her. In her wee hands were two candy canes.  She held them up. “They’re laced in mint vodka . . . just the way you like them.”

OW & UP Editor felt the unfamiliar blush of a smile cross her face. “Why thank you! My blood/alcohol ratio was thinning out a bit. Bless you.”

OW & UP Editor began to believe that the Christmas Spirit really did exist and that she could spend her holiday break nurturing a whole new perspective. No longer would she eat authors for a mid-morning snack. Her evil red pen would be given a permanent vacation, and she’d purchase a new, pretty pink pen. A color that was friendly and said that she was an editor who loved all things. Her heart swelled at this new beginning.

The elf’s voice was small and shaky. “Um . . . I understand that you don’t accept manuscripts under 50,000 words. Thing is, you sound like the perfect fit for my manuscript, only my manuscript is only 19,000. There is no way I can or should try to make it any longer. It’s great the way it is. “

OW & UP Editor felt her intestines twist as she heard the fateful words: “I’m a new author, by the way.”

Oh really? I would have never guessed.

“So I was wondering,” the elf continued, “could you please refer me to a publisher who accepts novellas with subjects being personal introspection, conflict, and resolution?”

OW & UP Editor looked down at the elf, so cheery and hopeful. Her little red cheeks, green felt dress, stripped tights, and curly toe shoes gave off an aura of perpetual good cheer and optimism.  How could she possibly stick her literary dagger into this sweet, innocent sprite? Her voice sounded like ground glass. “Um . . . I, uh, can’t help you.”

The elf’s smile faded a bit. “What? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said,” OW & UP Editor said, clearing her throat, “I can’t help you. See, I’m not a referral service. I don’t get my lousy pay for referring authors elsewhere. I get my lousy pay for publishing fabulous books that readers want. You already knew you weren’t a fit for our company, so don’t you think it’s a bit impertinent to ask me to take time away from my authors so you can query elsewhere? That’s what the Water Cooler is for, yanno.”

The little elf’s face fell, and OW & UP Editor felt like a grinch. She silently willed the beagle to hurry up and finish with Santa. She also wondered how many Karmic Points she’d eaten by dissing one of Santa’s elves.

Santa let out a loud belly laugh as the beagle jumped down. “Oh, beagle, no one’s boss can really be that bad! Ho Ho Ho!”

OW & UP Editor sneered at the beagle, promising to water down her next refill of tequila.

Santa held out his arm and welcomed OW & UP Editor. “Come on up and tell Santa what you’d like for Christmas!”

OW & UP Editor sat on Santa’s lap. ” Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been . . . “

“Whoa there, dearie, you’ve got me mixed up with your priest. I already know you’ve been bad. All I want to know is what you’d like for Christmas. I then employ a complex mathematical equation that weighs your badness and tells me whether you get coal or your gift.” He smiled. “Easy peasy, right?”

OW & UP Editor felt a bit deflated. “Heh. Right. Easy peasy. Ok, here goes; I’d like a year filled with fabulous authors, tons of book sales, and a secretary who actually files and answers the phone. “

Santa’s eyes grew wide. “Great authors you say? I think I can help you.” He reached inside his suit and pulled out a bundle of papers and dumped it in OW & UP Editor’s lap.  “I know, I know, you’re expecting a query letter, but I’ve queried everyone in the Milky Way and have received only a handful of responses. Why, I guess I’ve tried every angle there is, so I’m just going to give you my first two chapters of my second novel, Blitzen Has Two Mommies. It remains without a home to call its own. Do with it what you will.”

OW & UP Editor felt the bile rise. Santa? “Um, so what’s it about?”

Santa patted the pages. “I don’t have time to bother with that. Just read the pages.” His eyes twinkled as OW & UP Editor slid off his lap. “Remember, 2010 can either be a fabulous year, or it can be filled with lumps of coal.”

OW & UP Editor grew furious. “You’re blackmailing me, Santa?”

“Well sure, ” he said with a hearty laugh, “I learned from some vanity site that blackmail was a very effective publishing tool.”

OW & UP Editor slowly walked away, convinced that the world as she knew it was coming to a dismal end. She stopped by the reindeer pen and ran her fingers along Comet’s soft muzzle.

“Say,” he said, through a mouthful of hay, “mind if I run an idea for a nonfiction book past you? It’s a tell-all about Santa…”

5 Comments | Uncategorized | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

Merry Christmas, everybody

December 22, 2009

With nearly everyone I know buried beneath snow and cold, I thought I’d show you our view… It’s lovely, to be sure, but I’m a California native and would love to have a snowy Christmas. Whatever your weather or circumstances, we are wishing you all good cheer for Christmas. May your words flow with as much ease as the eggnog!

Catch you all on the flip side.

-Lynn and the beagle

17 Comments | Uncategorized | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

Behler Publications – home of the drummers

December 21, 2009

So I got this email from a company who hosts drumming circles. It’s supposed to enhance our calm. Yes, I’m talking about sitting all kumbaya-like and doing some interactive drumming so we’ll go on to lead healthy, stable lives. I’m told that:

In Africa and in many other cultures around the world, before any major tribal decision is made, the community gathers together at the center of the village to make music.

Now this just has me in a fit of giggles. I can see our sales teams, distributor, our publicist, and CEO with our posteriors planted on a hemp rug making music. Problem is, I think everyone would be singing a different song. Who needs drums when you have…

“Will it make moneeeeyyyy, tra-la-la?” [Banga-bang-bang]

“Sign the damn contraaaact, doobie-dobbie-do!” [Bangity-bang-bang]

“Gimmie their plaaaatform, whackado whackado!” [Banga-boom-bang]

“What’s the projected releeeease daaate, humba chumba!” [Banga-hunka-thunka-bang]

“Rowwwwwwl!” [contributions from the beagle] Bang-bang (the beagle has no sense of rhythm)

Crikey, that’s not music. It’s jazz* And knowing my luck, we’d have the cops called on us. I thought this bit was a particularly interesting selling point:

The experience of drumming in a group is unique, and it leaves an impression. People are sure to go home talking about how their corporate group was transformed into an instant orchestra!

Heh, yes indeedy. “Hey, Norma, Overworked and Underpaid Editor has finally gone ’round the bend. Instead of waving her evil red pen about the office and screeching about the final hard read before print runs, she’s chanting. ‘Hooba dooba, get that manuscript read-a!’ I tell ya, Norma, it’s downright scary.”

Indeed. Look, I’m as touchy feely as an avacodo sandwich, and I like my karmageddon lifestyle. It has a sense of symmetry and poetic debauchery. So I suppose I’ll simply delete this email that I suspect the beagle forwarded to me on her private account. But hey, if any of you get frustrated with your POV or character development, go bang a drum.

*apologies to jazz lovers.

2 Comments | bangin' the drum | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

So while the beagle is off eating tequila soaked candy canes…

December 18, 2009

I’m wrapping gifts…

3 Comments | Uncategorized | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

I got my candy cane, I’m all set for Christmas

December 17, 2009

Mind you, that candy cane was soaked in tequila…do not count on her to answer our phones for the next few days.

6 Comments | beagles behaving badly | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

Agents who half-ass it

December 17, 2009

If you are represented by an agency, then why are you querying me directly? Isn’t that your agent’s job?

Ahhh…yes and no.

Scenarios run like this; Big Agent tries like the dickens to get your manuscript onto the Big Editors’ desks. Only they pass on the project. Repeatedly. Now the options are more limited – and that translates to money. Big Agent has a choice; do I work just as hard to sell to a smaller publishers where the remuneration isn’t as grand, or do I let my author do the legwork because I. Am. Too. Important.

If the author is successful in getting a bite from an editor, guess who swoops in for the kill?

And this is what I know when I read the innocent query letter that tells me they’re repped by Ima Too-a Bigga For-a My-a Britches-a.

And what do you think my attitude is toward that agent? Not so hot-a. No one likes to think, “Hey, what am I, chopped liver that I didn’t deserve your time and effort?” as they read a query letter. And that’s exactly the message that comes over loud and clear.

I’m not so petty that I take it out on the author. Just the opposite, in fact. My heart goes out to them because they’re on their own now. “Hey, I tried, and you’re on your own now. I’ve lost faith in your manuscript.” I find that cruel.

If it’s not worth it to continue pitching the work, then let the author go. But for crying out loud, don’t half-ass it. Agents know far more about opening doors than authors do. Agents can pick up the phone and pitch to editors. An author who tries that will incur the beagle’s wrath, which usually results in her pearly whites connecting with the posterior soft tissue.

And let’s say I want the manuscript. Does anyone believe I’m going to feel all warm and fuzzy toward Mr. Fancy Pants Agent during contract negotiations? And what about pre- and post-production conversations? Does this agent really believe I’m going to give a rat’s fuzzy navel what he thinks about cover art or promo plans? First thing out of my piehole would be, “ohhh, so now you care. “

I know, you’re thinking, “So what’s you’re point, Pricey?” Well, my point is that if your agent says you’re free to query on your own, take that as a big sign that he’s writing you off. That his sole purpose now is to enjoy the fruits of your labor because he’s Too Big to do it for you.  He needs to concentrate on his other client, The Sure Thing and sell to the Big Editor.

Sure, he’s there to negotiate the contract, should you prevail, but don’t forget who opened the door – you. Seems to me that should change the percentage that he’s entitled to.

5 Comments | agents, education, query | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

And a Merry Christmas to you, too…

December 16, 2009

This rejection letter response falls under the category of “May I Slit My Own Throat?” I just received this today. Oh the merriment, the joy, the tact. The lack of spelling ability…

I want to thank you for responding back with such a ‘pissy’ little note. I was starting to think that I wouldn’t get the oppertunity to get a rejection notice on my book [title redacted].

On Thurday/Friday last week I emailed about 100 publishers. On Monday I had 17 responses. 12 of those said we would like to see your manuscript. 9 of those said we are “very” interested. 4 of those asked me not to contact other publishers.

I sent them all a full copy.

This morning I have spent hours on the phone discussing 2 separate companies proposals. By the looks of things I’m sure more will come. Who knows, maybe some of them will even be willing to bid against each other after I feel confident I’ve collected what everyone seems to think they have to offer.

I’ve never even published a book before. [LP: yes this I believe] Beginners luck I guess.

Of all the nice little emails, I think I’ll frame yours. I’ll title it, “The only bitch in the bunch.”

By the way, you try and copy or distribute a single sentance of my book, then we will talk again. I promise. [LP: darn, I guess my idea of posting them on the bathroom stalls between here and Barstow is out.]

The “pissiness” he refers to was this:

Dear [name redacted],
Thank you for your query. I’m afraid we won’t be interested in reviewing your work at this time.

I’d like to add, for your edification, that it’s insulting to remind me, or any editor, that your work is copyrighted. We, above all, are very aware of this, and to request that we not copy or distribute your work without your permission is an affront. You might want to remove that from your future queries.

This is what I get for trying to help people. I never know when or from where the RudeBombs will drop, but they always do. Folks, just don’t do this. Ever. Delusion is an unattractive feature in anyone, and this is too small an industry to pull that kind of insanity and not have it get around. On the other hand, I think this may make for a fun Christmas card. Hmm….

17 Comments | authors behaving badly | Permalink
Posted by lynnpricewrites

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