CHARACTERS THAT GET ME EVERY TIME – AND WHY

by Laney Katz Becker

Before I begin, I’ve got a confession to make: This is the first time I’ve ever blogged. I swore I’d never write a blog, but when you’re part of a team sometimes the majority wins. So, here I sit, doing what I promised myself I wouldn’t do. It’s not that I have anything against blogs, but to be honest, it’s not the sort of thing women my age are doing. In fact, if I stopped typing right now and phoned, oh, say, six or seven of my friends, I’ll bet that only one or two of them would even know what a blog is.

OK, I’m back. I was wrong. I guess my friends are more hip than I give them credit for.

Even still, let me make this clear:

One. I stand behind the sentiment I expressed in the opening of this, my first ever blog. This blog-thing isn’t something I wanted to do; it’s not something I’m comfortable doing, in fact, I don’t even know what I’m doing, so, please – be kind.

Two. The topic for this, my first ever blog, Characters that get me every time – and why, wasn’t something I chose. It was assigned to me by my colleague Rachel Vater. (Hey, if I voted against doing this blog, I certainly wasn’t going to suddenly get all enthusiastic and passionate by proclaiming that there was some topic I was just dying to write about. So I asked for topic ideas and then I did what I was told.)

Three. I’m a totally unreliable narrator. I mean it. I never, ever, voted against this blog. In fact, I think it’s a great way to help writers understand more about agents, and what we’re looking for. I *love* new things, so doing a blog is something I’ve been looking forward to.

So, how am I doing so far? Do I have your interest? Better yet, what kind of “character” do you think I am? Yup. This rant of mine has all just been a rather elaborate way to demonstrate what “gets me” and why.

Clearly, I’m a huge fan of the adage “show, don’t tell.” As a reader I always bring my brain. Or at least I try to. I’d much rather figure out who you are, (“you” being your character) and what makes you tick, than have you spell it all out for me. I also appreciate it if you have dimension; after all, who in this world is wholly good or wholly bad? You’ve got flaws? Good. Me, too.

If you’ve got personality, then I’m *really* likely to sit up and pay attention. I love characters with “voice.” The fresher the better. That, however, does not necessarily mean I like characters who are quirky, unless such quirks are there for a reason, and (big and) are believable. If I can hear you correctly, (again – I’m talking about voice), then I can understand what motivates you. That’s good, because once we form that connection I’m much better able to walk in your shoes, and I totally love trying on other personas. But, be forewarned: If you’re being different just to be different, or if you’re acting quirky just to be quirky, well, I’m likely to see through that and I will probably just find you annoying. Authenticity is something I value.

If I find myself smiling while I’m reading, chances are I’m enjoying your tongue-in-cheek sense of humor. If your struggles and challenges make me cry, I’ll hate you for giving me puffy eyelids, but I’ll love you for touching my heart. If your kindness renews my faith in my fellow man, then you’ve motivated me to rethink my skepticism.

The bottom line here ladies and gents: Make your characters real, multi-faceted and give them depth. Then, through you, they will speak to me. And once a character has been brought to life, that’s it! You’ve got me – every time.

P.S. I really did vote against this blog.

*Maybe!*

How to Get the Most out of your Writers’ Conference Experience

by Scott Hoffman

Those of you who have read some of the articles I’ve had published on how to find an agent (see, for example: http://www.writersdigest.com/article/The_Top_Five_Ways_Not_To_Get_A_Literary_Agent/) know that I’m not the world’s biggest fan of trying to land a literary an agent by sending blind query letters. Does it work on occasion? Sure. We’ve gotten some of our best clients that way. But there’s something so… passive about the process. There’s some element of ceding control that I know that I wouldn’t be comfortable with if I were in an author’s position. To me, the whole process seems to evoke bad memories of high school, sitting by the phone, waiting for it to ring to see if you’re going to have a date on Saturday night, when you should have just been out having a good time with your friends anyway.

Besides, what do you do if your preferred agent or agents aren’t accepting unsolicited queries in the first place?

That’s where writers’ conferences come in.

As an unpublished author, attending a reputable, well-run writers’ conference can be the first step to launching your brilliant professional writing career. But it can also be an intimidating, frustrating experience if you approach it the wrong way.

For agents, writers’ conferences are a mixed bag. They can be very positive experiences, full of promising new talent—or they can be grueling experiences that leave us vowing never to volunteer our time ever, ever again.

Here are a few tips to ensure that you get the most out of your writers’ conference experience.

1) Develop a plan for the conference ahead of time. There are as many different reasons to attend conferences as there are attendees. What you can get out of a conference, however, is often a function of where you are in the publishing process. If you’re still in the process of writing your novel or putting together a proposal for your nonfiction book, the craft seminars at the conference are probably where you want to spend most of your time. Figure out which authors, editors, and agents are teaching, and attend the sessions that are taught by the people whose work you most respect. (It’s been my experience that, regardless of the purported subject of the lecture, speakers are going to talk about what they’re best at anyway—so rather than choosing which sessions to attend based on the title of the talk, I suggest you go to the sessions taught by the coolest people—the best agents, authors, and editors. Even if a workshop is on plotting in science fiction and you’re writing romance, what you’ll learn from a master like Orson Scott Card, say, is likely to make you a better writer.

If you’ve already got an agent you’re happy with, or if you’ve sold a book, or are a published author, conferences can still be tremendously valuable. They’re an opportunity to promote yourself and your work, make additional professional contacts, and learn what other successful authors have done to take their work to the next level. The most important thing you can do at this stage—listen. Let the pros know you’re a rookie who’s past that first stage of the game, and ask each one for their one best tip on how to succeed in the business. You can sometimes learn as much as you would in a master class this way.

If you’re at that stage where you’ve written a novel but are still looking for an agent, however—you’re in luck. Conferences are tailor-made for people like you. Take the rest of the tips in this section to heart.

2) Ignore the one on one meetings. I know this is going to be controversial advice, but I’ll stand by it. I don’t like formal author-agent pitch sessions for a couple of reasons. First, most conferences schedule too many of them. If you’re one of the agent’s first pitches you might be in good shape. But if you’re the agent’s 30th pitch in two days, honestly, you would have been better off sending a query letter. As to pitching editors directly, unless you’re writing romance or science fiction, they’re probably just going to tell you to get an agent anyway.

Here’s an inside tip on how agents deal with conferences. Most agents are too polite to say “no” to your face. You can pitch them a book that they KNOW—100% KNOW-- they would never in a million years sign up. But rather than deal with the pressure of rejecting you to your face, they’ll say something like “Well, I don’t know. For something like this it’s all in the writing.” They’ll ask you to mail them the first three chapters and then they’ll glance at them for about 5 seconds and then pass, politely, with their standard rejection letter.

Here’s a statistic from experience: in the past three years, I’ve sold about ten books from people I met at conferences. Not ONE of those authors did I meet at a one on one pitch session. So, how did those authors get to me? After my workshop. In the elevator. In the bar after dinner. Basically, in normal, organic situations that aren’t terribly forced like those awful one on one pitch sessions. In ways that proved to me that they would be effective advocates for their work once it hit the shelves.

3) Ignore what the conference organizers tell you what to do. Conference organizers are going to get mad at me for this one. But I’m on your side here, so I’m going to give you the straight dope. I’d say about half of the conferences I’ve been to are not particularly well run. They try their best, but they’re usually volunteers with jobs and lives and families and don’t always know what to do to help your career prospects along. So, regardless of what the conference organizers tell you, there are a few things you should always have with you at a conference:

• A memorized, one sentence explanation of what your book is about that’s catchy and explanatory. “It’s a literary retelling of the Noah’s Ark story.” “It’s about a young Japanese-American man and woman who fall in love on the eve of World War II and are torn apart by the war.” Practice this one in front of the mirror. I promise you an agent is going to ask you what your book is about when you’re not expecting it. This is your chance to differentiate yourself.

• A one page synopsis of your novel (if you’re writing fiction) or your completed, polished nonfiction proposal if you’re writing nonfiction, and a one-page bio of yourself.

• The first three chapters of your novel, double-spaced.

• A copy of your manuscript—just in case.

Carry these with you at all times. Chances are nobody will ever ask for them—but if they do, bam. You have them. Don’t ever try to foist them on agents or editors, but they’ll be your secret weapon. And you’ll be more confident knowing you have them if you need them.

4) Understand why agents go to conferences. For agents, going to conferences is as much about the opportunity to bond and network with other agents and authors as it is about finding new literary talent. Remember—it’s not an agent’s job to read your query letters. It’s an agent’s job to sell books. We read query letters and talk to unpublished authors in order to find great books to sell—it’s a means to an end, not an end unto itself. So when you see agents and editors hanging out together, understand that if we didn’t have these opportunities, we might not be at the conference at the first place. The best conferences understand this phenomenon and schedule formal time for the faculty to interact with each other.

5) Don’t do something that’s going to put you in the LTS pile. Every agent has one. LTS stands for “Life’s Too Short.” So, although I really shouldn’t have to say this, there are a couple of times that agents are absolutely, positively off-limits. Don’t bug us when:

• We’re on the way to deliver a talk. We’re thinking about how to best deliver that talk, not about your specific project. After the talk, however, absolutely, positively buttonhole us.

• We’re in a situation where we can’t comfortably shake your hand. Examples: in the buffet line. In the pool. At the gym. In the restroom. (You’d be surprised. Every agent has horror stories, believe me.)

• Understand that no means no. If an agent tells you no, that’s it. Move on. There are lots of good fish in the sea. No stalking allowed.

It’s probably possible to write a whole book on what to do and not to do at a writers’ conference. But I’ll wrap it up here.

Hope this information has been helpful. If you disagree with anything I’ve said (including all the rest of you folioites!) that’s what the comment section is for.

Happy conferencing.

The Top 5 Things You Can Do to Help Your In-House Publicist

Most in-house publicists think it but would never say it, so I'll say it for them: there are those authors that it is a dream to work with, and there are those who you dread opening emails from. Having worked in publicity departments at a couple major houses, here are my top 5 recommendations for ensuring that you and your publicist are working more like Sonny and Cher (the early years) rather than Fleetwood Mac (the later years).

(1) Take your author questionnaire seriously. I know you're busy, and I know it can be very tempting to put this off for as long as possible. Unfortunately, that’s the kind of thinking that results in major missed opportunities. Publicity efforts for your book begin four to five months before publication, and this is when the crucial magazine coverage is booked. If you haven’t yet mentioned that you went to Penn, which has a great alumni magazine, or that your fiancée’s best friend writes features for Vogue, your publicist can’t be expected to send advance copies to these media resources.

Get it done, asap.

(2) Know the niche media that would be perfect for your book. In an ideal world (for publicists as well as authors), the subject matter of a book would match up with the interests of everyone working on it, but this isn’t always the case. In-house publicists don't always get to decide what books they work on. There is reason to take heart, though: most people in the publishing business really do love learning about new things and have even come to expect it as part of their job. You can help facilitate this learning process by making sure your publicist has all of the insider information on your book’s subject at her fingertips. This means filling out (yes, asap!) your author questionnaire as fully as possible, and communicating with her any important information that might be commonplace for a specialist but unknown to a beginner. Think of the advantage to you: if you tell her, ‘The rock-collecting market is essential to the success of this book!,’ she can spend a week researching magazines and newspapers to ensure that she has a solid list of all the best. If you provide her with a full AQ that contains a list of these magazines and newspapers, she can devote that week to actively pitching them.

(3) Respect that budgets are set well in advance of a book’s publication and generally without your publicist’s input. I firmly believe that the marketing opportunities for any given book are nearly limitless, and I suspect that most in-house publicists would agree with me. The real limiting factor in the publicity campaign for your book is not ideas, but rather a nasty little thing called money. For instance, if a book is intended to be "review driven," chances are extremely good that no money is available for a book tour. And the hard truth is that few extenuating circumstances are going to change that, and (most importantly for this blog post) it’s really not within the ability of your in-house publicist to affect the amount of money allotted for your book.

That being said, there are situations that might justify additional expenses for your publicity and that you should feel comfortable bringing to the attention of your in-house publicist. Getting booked on The Colbert Report, for instance, is probably worth the cost of the plane ticket to your publishing house. If an organization will fly you out to speak to their 200+ members and is going to buy 100 books up front, it's reasonable to ask if your publishing house will pay for your hotel. Anything less than that, you’re usually on your own, moneywise.

(4) Never contact the media or set up any events or interviews without letting your publicist know first. This one, I know, can be hard to follow, especially if you feel like you’re getting the runaround from your publicity team. But there’s a good reason that publicists handle the heavy lifting with media pitches (publishing houses know this and maintain quality publicity departments because of it): they spend many hours every week following television, radio, and print; have a good sense of where to reasonably expect coverage on the title; they’ve spent a lot of time cultivating relationships with journalists; and most importantly, they are pretty used to taking rejection. Unfortunately, this last one happens a lot when pitching books to the media.

The more well-connected of you might run into journalists regularly, and some of those might want to book you on their show. If this happens, I'd recommend thanking them for the request and then always refer them to your publicist to book the actual interview. There are a bunch of things to consider before setting up an actual interview, ranging from simple timing issues to more complicated things like which NPR show has called dibs on covering your book, so it's important to get the opinion of a professional.

(5) Try very, very hard not to say the word Oprah. Saying it to your in-house publicist is like asking an astronaut, ‘hey, have you ever thought about visiting this place called the moon?’ I speak from experience here, so please pay close attention: your publicist has considered Oprah. She has sent the show multiple copies of your book, and probably even spent hours crafting a pitch well-suited for the shows’ producers. Believe me, your publicist wants you sitting on Oprah’s couch just as much as you do. You can expect her to have been in touch with all of the applicable people at the show and to have thought very hard about how to pitch your book to the appropriate producers.

On Query Letters

I often hear from writers that writing the letter to initially contact an agent – i.e., the so-called "query letter" – is the hardest part of this business. One comment – typical – from an author: "My query letter took about 3 months to get it into the shape I sent out. Frankly, even that query wasn't terrific."

This is something that I just don’t understand. If the book's the best it can be, if this book is a culmination of all you've learned and thought about and dreamed and wanted in a book, that's enough. The cover letter you write to agents is the logical outcome of the book itself, of your ability to sum it up concisely and well, and show the kind of passion you feel for it. If you can't write that kind of letter, if you aren't that passionate, ... well, obviously, maybe you need to write a new book that does make you feel that way.

If you, as a writer, can truly write, if you’ve really learned your craft so that writing is like breathing, the cover letter just comes out. It may not be as business-oriented as some agents (or editors) would like, but I also think that we agents and editors will cut people a lot of slack, if the writing and voice are there - we're all looking for that wonderful, glorious, fabulous writing – the kind of thing that will and does come out in the cover letter.

Or, just maybe, good writing comes out in the cover letter unless the author's too daunted and intimidated and disheartened by this truly weird process to let the writing flow out naturally. (This may especially true for fiction writers, since they tend to be more left-brain-oriented, while letter-writing seems to be more of a right-brained activity). The novelist Sandra Kring (not my client, by the way, but definitely read her books – including her latest, Thank You For All Things, which came out in October 2007) wrote once, "The type of writing a query requires is so far removed from the kind of writing a fiction writer does that, to me, it’s the equivalent of a dancer going to audition for the role of The Sugar Plum Fairy, and being made to stand perfectly still and DESCRIBE her movements, rather than simply being allowed to dance. Unless that dancer, then, is also a singer and has a way with words, that dancer may the most incredible Sugar Plum Fairy that troop will ever see, but the dance company will never know this."

I don’t disagree with Sandra, but I do think that query letters are creative. You need to keep that in mind. They're a creative, short, extremely condensed chunk of your book. They're not really "business" letters – unless you're writing a business book. As it is, I always think the best query letters are the ones that are written to me as if I’m already an acquaintance - not too familiar, but also not written in businessese or legalese.

The query letters that really grab my attention are letters that have the writer's own individual flair to them. Where I can hear the voice, where I can feel the mastery that the writer has over the language. That voice needs to be in there. I know that a lot of people will try to turn this kind of thing into a science (how much of a "pitch" there should be; what kind of "hook" is successful, and all that kind of nonsense); frankly I don't honestly care that much, and I sure don’t think about it when I rip open the envelope - all I want, when I read a cover letter, is to be sufficiently intrigued to turn to the next pages (assuming that the author's sent those next pages with the query). Generally that happens because something about the writing grabs me, right from the first sentence.

There are a lot of times when something else, other than the writing, will grab me - the author's platform, usually (but the box of chocolates never hurts, you know) (I'm KIDDING here - do NOT send gifts) (well, maybe one or two) (small ones), and then I'll turn the page anyway and take a look at that first page of the manuscript.

But I swear - I wish you could sit here and look at the pile of unsolicited material I get - and I do NOT want to spend my day (or my assistant's day) going through it. When I tear open that envelope, I want something to spark, ignite, burn on those pages inside. And, in most cases, what sparks is the writing. So if you can't write, and can't express yourself concisely, .... um ...

Sound Byte To Take Away From This Posting:

Query Letters should be:

1. Concise (one page, max);
   
2. Have, somewhere in them, a very brief paragraph that sums up the book in a sentence or two [and ideally that log-line should generate a “wow” response from your reader];
   
3. Convey the author’s creativity, enthusiasm, and passion for the project;
   
4. Have something about them that sets them apart from the mundane (usually that’s the premise or the author’s credentials, or both).
   

Let me give you an example. When the email query, below, crossed my desk, I responded within a couple of hours. I’ve put my comments in bold, and hope they don’t prove too distracting:

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From: Garth Stein
To: Jeff Kleinman
Re: Query: “The Art of Racing in the Rain” Putting both the words “Query” and the title of the book on the subject line makes it clear why you’re writing – and it often keeps your email from falling into the spam folder.

Dear Mr. Kleinman: Address your letter to a single individual. The proper way of opening business correspondence is “Dear [Title] Last Name]:”. Be sure you spell the name right.

Saturday night I was participating in a fundraiser for the King County Library System out here in the Pacific Northwest, and I met your client, Layne Maheu. He spoke very highly of you and suggested that I contact you.... One of the best ways of starting out correspondence is figuring out your connection to the agent. It’s always best to have a referral, but if you don’t know a lot of writers, try to determine if the agent represents any authors you like. Similarly, find first novels you really love, and look in the acknowledgments section - it’s where most authors thank their agent.

I am a Seattle writer with two published novels. Cool – so the author has some kind of track record. Who’s the publisher, though? Was these both self-published novels, or were there reputable publishers involved? (I’ll read on, and hope I find out.) I have recently completed my third novel, "The Art of Racing in the Rain," and I find myself in a difficult situation: my new book is narrated by a dog, and my current agent ah-ha, so he had an agent. This seems more and more promising. told me that he cannot (or will not) sell it for that very reason. Thus, I am seeking new representation. This kind of approach can backfire, because we agents tend to be like sheep – what one doesn’t like, the rest of us are wary of, too (or, conversely, what one likes, we all like). But in this case getting in the “two published novels” early is definitely helpful. Also, there’s something in the “Thus” that, to me, spoke of the author’s determination not to give up just because one agent didn’t like it.

"The Art of Racing in the Rain" is the story of Denny Swift, a race car driver who faces profound obstacles in his life, and ultimately overcomes them by applying the same techniques that have made him successful on the track. His story is narrated by his "philosopher dog," Enzo, who, having a nearly human soul (and an obsession with opposable thumbs), believes he will return as a man in his next lifetime. Great log-line. Here’s the one-sentence description of the book – sums it up, gives us a feel for what we’re going to get. It’s short and gets the job done. THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF YOUR LETTER.

My last novel, "How Evan Broke His Head and Other Secrets," won a 2006 Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association Book Award, Ah, good, and the author’s winning awards. This is exactly the kind of thing agents (and editors) like to see. and since the award ceremony a year ago, I have given many readings, workshops, and lectures promoting the book Also good – the author’s not afraid of promoting the book himself.. When time has permitted, I've read the first chapter from "The Art of Racing in the Rain." Audience members have been universally enthusiastic and vocal in their response, and the first question asked is always: "When can I buy the book about the dog?" Also very positive. By now I’m salivating, wanting to see this.

I'm inserting, below, a short synopsis of "The Art of Racing in the Rain," and my biography. Great that he didn’t put either of these things directly into the letter, that he separated them out to allow the letter to be brief and to the point. Please let me know if the novel interests you; I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Simple, easy ending – doesn’t speak of desperation, or doubt, or anything other than polite willingness to help. And all the punctuation was in the right spot.

Sincerely,

Garth Stein

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That’s it. He’s done. Mission accomplished.

Of course, the manuscript itself has to deliver on its promise – but we’ll save that for another discussion sometime soon.

[Not to leave you dangling: Garth’s manuscript more than delivered on its promise. Harper is publishing it in the near future, May 2008, and you should run out immediately and get a copy. Here’s a link to his website, www.garthstein.com.]

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