Talking Back to Fortune

After nine weeks of 2011, I am inclined to think my New Year's fortune might have been a warning versus a suggestion. Sought-out or otherwise, changes have been coming at me nonstop since January 1st. I've been grateful for the positive, and have done what I can to manage the negative, but oy. At this point the Year of Change has me thinking less about changing and more about doing what I can do to make the next ten months a little less stressful.

Cave. Tibet. Paradise!

Kidding. In the meantime I've cracked open a few more cookies, and this is what else they had to say:



This one is probably a direct cosmic nudge for me. Outside immediate family, people who care about me are usually the last to know when something is going on in my life. I think it's because the words "support system" always instantly make me think of other phrases, like "misery loves company" and "share the depression."

I'd rather handle things on my own; in my experience self-reliance is more dependable than other people. Easier to deal with, too, as I never like to impose on those I trust. But as a very patient and understanding friend just reminded me, the people who do care about us often go through similar or even the same problems (and kept it quiet because they don't want to impose on us.)

I'm going to work on my trust issues, but I do wish my troubles would go on a diet and slim down to minor annoyances.



This is a perfect analogy for all those things in life that are much desired, often dreamed of, and rarely bestowed. I for one love cake, always have, always will. I never met a cake I didn't want. Okay, maybe not that one some women make with condensed tomato soup; as ingredients go that is just a wee bit too weird for me. But as for the rest of them, really, what's not to lust after?

These days, plenty. Once upon a time cake used to be simply cake. Much desired, often dreamed of, and rarely bestowed. Not anymore. Now folks are spreading around lots of pretty frosting on all manner of things and calling them cake (when a lot of them are actually more like what my grandmother used to call horsey pies.) We should be able to smell these fake cakes a mile away, but times are tough and everyone wants to believe there's a cheap and easy way to get all the cake they want.

I don't have a problem with this because I can't have cake anymore. I'm strictly a bran muffin girl these days. Not everyone is on the nuts-and-twigs diet, though, so you should be careful what you buy, and what you buy into. You've all heard the one about If it sounds too good to be true, etc. Here's an updated version: If someone tells you that for a couple hundred bucks you can have a million cakes, they aren't selling you cake.

So what has fortune been telling you these last nine weeks? Any significant messages from the cosmos land in your lap? Let us know in comments.

Changing Editors

I've had a couple more indicators that for me 2011 will be the Year of Change. Earlier today I was at the doctor's getting a follow-up check, and while his nurse was taking my blood pressure she kept frowning.

"Can't find a pulse again?" I asked her (my BP regularly runs very low, and I have a heart murmur, so I routinely scare the daylights out of people using stethoscopes.)

"Actually it's a little on the high side. For you, anyway." She pumped up the sleeve again. "Any reason you might be feeling some stress?"

I thought for a moment. "My new novel is being released today, and everyone is already saying great things about it, something that in Publishing never goes unpunished. Last night one of my editors asked me to synopsize two hundred years of a character's backstory from a book I'm not actually writing until 2012. I have to electronically correct a set of proofs for another book before my mother visits next week, but I don't think that editor is going to send them until Friday afternoon. And right before I came here, my agent e-mailed to tell me the editor I've worked with longer than any other in my career is quitting the business, possibly before she finishes editing my current novel, and I have to decide on a new editor. So now I have to pick who I want to work with on the bestselling books of my career until 2013 in the next twenty minutes before I call the agent back."

"Uh-huh." The nurse stopped taking my blood pressure. "When does Mama arrive, and how much house cleaning have you done?"

"Next Wednesday. We just renovated one of the bathrooms." I hung my head. "The rest of the house looks like the North Pole after an Elf Kegger."

"Poor thing." She patted my shoulder. "I'll have the doc write a scrip for some more chocolate-covered Valium."

So as I've already admitted to the cosmos, change is good. For 2011 I fully intend to be a good sport and willingly embrace it. However, it would be helpful -- and a little less stressful -- if all the changes the universe is going to throw at me didn't have to happen in the first week.

If you stay in the business long enough, you will probably have to change editors. Just like any other biz pro, editors are routinely promoted, laid off, or shuffled to another imprint or division. Older editors eventually retire; younger editors often get pink-slipped or jump ship to take a better job at another house. Occasionally some leave Publishing behind entirely; one of my editors quit the biz to go to law school.

Losing an editor can be extremely stressful for a writer, especially if you've worked together for a long time. After a few years you both know each other well and have settled into a workable routine. Even if you didn't particularly like your old editor, s/he is the devil you know; the replacement is the one you don't.

If you're given the opportunity to choose your next editor, and you haven't been collecting info about other editors at your publisher (most of us veterans do that in anticipation of editor changes), you should (discreetly) check out the candidates first versus blindly choosing one or relying on an agent or senior editor's recommendation (remember, they don't have to work with the new editor, you do.) You can go info-gathering on the internet (editors talk a bit about their professional experience in interviews, and they also sometimes list other publishers they've worked for in bios), contact other authors who have worked with them, and ask your agent what s/he knows about them.

Everyone has different expectations and desires, so you have to tailor your investigation to suit your needs. I always look at experience first (as in, where have they worked, how long have they been in the biz, and how many houses have they worked for. Also if possible I like to know how often they've changed jobs; I prefer to work with editors who don't jump ship a lot.), I also consider what's on the editor's plate: which authors are they editing, which genres are they handling and how many titles they're putting out a year. The more info I gather, the better guess I can make as to whether or not we'll be a good match.

When you have to change editors, your new editor is generally aware of how stressful the situation is for you, and will try to fill the huge gaping hole space left behind. In my experience most do a terrific job of this, so it's worth giving them the benefit of the doubt (and some time to prove themselves.) It's always a roll of the dice, but you shouldn't expect the worst upfront.

Some writers say you should always meet an editor in person before you agree to work with them, but I don't agree. At times it can even be counterproductive. The last editor I met in person back in 2003 was so young she had barely gotten through puberty -- she sounded a lot older on the phone -- and was so "on" for the conference we were at that I couldn't get a genuine handle on who she was as a person (something that later resulted in a major clash during production that I might have avoided if I hadn't met her and assumed she was -- as she behaved at the conference -- all sunshine and happiness.)

One more thing about asking around the writing community: a writer who doesn't know you is probably only going to say good things about their editor. 99% of the time this is because the writer doesn't know you well enough to depend on your discretion to keep the truth confidential. 1% of the time it's because the writer thinks their editor sent you to find out what they're saying about them. It really depends on how neurotic and paranoid the writer is.

Tomorrow I should hear whether or not if I can be moved to the editor I want to work with; tonight I'm going to think about a few alternatives if I can't. While I put together a 2012 novel notebook for the notes from the 200 year character backstory synopsis. And clean the guest bedroom -- twice. And see how chocolate-covered valium taste crushed and sprinkled on top of a big honking banana split . . .