I spent the afternoon building a quilt rack/shelf and had to run out to the Home Improvement shop to get a bit for my Dremmel -- what, you thought I was just a pretty face? -- and since BAM is on the way, I did a hit & run to see what's new.
What's new: the usual front of the store blahs I don't read, and too much interesting nonfic. I am not allowed to buy any more nonfic until I clear the ceiling-high nonfic TBR stack. However, I have very little fiction to read, so I gave myself permission to blog shop. Here's what I scored:
Valiant by Holly Black -- found on one of the aisle tables. I recognize the author's name from her Live Journal but I've never read her stuff, so I figured, why not. Good title, nice little hardcover.
Seduced by Beth Ciotta -- Did you know Beth is also writing paranormals with Cynthia Klimback as C.B. Scott? Neither did I, until I read her bio in the back. So? What other secrets are you keeping from us, Beth?
Getting Hers by Donna Hill -- This was in Fiction/Lit (Monica makes me schlep over there, too.) Wasn't hard to find, though; the visual from this cover really jumps out from the shelf. Very classy, subtle embossing, elegant title font and a gorgeous glossy finish; best art design I've seen all year for catching attention from the casually cruising customer.
A Taste of Crimson by Majorie M. Liu -- Majorie had a pile of books faced out and they are moving; my store had ordered 12 copies and about 7 were left.
Courting Danger by Carol Stephenson -- Carol is an old friend of mine from South Florida, and it was a real joy to find her back on the shelves.
I also bought Passion by Lisa Valdez because Vanessa's posts about it got me interested. Anything that offends that many people has to be fun. Would like it better if Ms. Jaye would hurry up and get into print so I could buy one of her novels, hint, hint.
What books by bloggers have you bought recently?
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Eureka
I have found the perfect candidate for RWA's next President: slithytove, who while thinking up oxymoronic genre movements provided this absolute gem:
Chaste Porn. A man and a woman, both 18 years old or older, fully clothed, sit on a sofa and pitch woo. I'm sure other things happen—taffy-pulling and the like—but I'm falling asleep just thinking about it, and must stop.
The possibilities are endless, you know: Fashionless Chick Lit, Futuristic Historicals, Victorian Regencies, Satanic Inspirationals, and that favorite of all the uptight and silly, the Sexless Romance.
Romance hasn't seen this much optimism since the Shakers took a vow of group celibacy. Ladies, kidnap this man and make him your leader.
Chaste Porn. A man and a woman, both 18 years old or older, fully clothed, sit on a sofa and pitch woo. I'm sure other things happen—taffy-pulling and the like—but I'm falling asleep just thinking about it, and must stop.
The possibilities are endless, you know: Fashionless Chick Lit, Futuristic Historicals, Victorian Regencies, Satanic Inspirationals, and that favorite of all the uptight and silly, the Sexless Romance.
Romance hasn't seen this much optimism since the Shakers took a vow of group celibacy. Ladies, kidnap this man and make him your leader.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Writing & Selling VIII
JM wrote in comments: Should I ever get published, I would like to save myself, and those others interested, time and money in the marketing department by not trudging down paths where the investment isn't worth the return.
I suspect JM is a writer after my own heart. So let's tackle this list of questions:
Specifically, what methods work and what methods don't work for marketing your novel, or, by order of increasing effectiveness, what methods have you used to market your novels?
Traditional marketing methods, such as widgets, booksignings, conference appearances, mail-outs and print advertising are the least effective. Newer marketing such as websites, online interviews, articles and weblogs are better and, depending on the quality and appeal involved, can be terrific.
M.J. Rose's theory of getting big time media attention, particularly the kind that thrives on scandal, is likely the best marketing, but it can also be the worst. I tried most of the traditional methods for my first novel, and the newer stuff for the first Darkyn book, but I only kept up a small web site for all the books in between.
In your discussions with your published cronies, what are the similarities and differences in the effectiveness of their marketing efforts when compared to yours?
I don't really have any published cronies. My best friend is an author, but we talk about the creative side of work almost exclusively. I sometimes offer advice upon request, but I rarely if ever talk about my stuff with anyone else.
What methods have other published authors reported to you as successful that you haven't tried yet?
None so far.
How helpful were your publishers in marketing your novels?
My publishers used to take out print ads in the trades, and send out the usual amount of review copies. To my knowledge, that's all the marketing they've ever done for me. Print ads do very little for a book, and you all already know my opinion of reviewers.
What promises did your publishers make to you regarding the marketing of your novels and how many of those promises did they keep?
My publishers never promised me anything on marketing in writing. Of the half-dozen verbal promises that were made, only one was kept. I never believe anything unless it's in writing.
Should I get an agent before circulating my first novel to editors/publishers?
People are going to debate this forever. In today's market, a decent agent** will not take you on without a book offer from a major publisher in hand. I'd recommend nailing an offer first, then go agent-hunting.
What's your take on online critique groups and/or critique groups in general?
They don't work for me, but I know many other writers depend on them and enjoy them. If they help you, great. If they mess with you, dump them.
Assuming you had a day job, how long after you first became published did you quit your day job?
I had retired from business and was a ten-year veteran housewife when I got published. I'm still a housewife, and aside from writing, taking care of the people I love is not something I'm likely to quit doing.
If you haven't already done so, if you could only give us one bit of advice about the business of writing and selling books, what would that be?
Oh, no pressure . . . okay: Somewhere in the midst of all the important marketing, strategizing, planning, researching and obsessing, try to write some books. I know, it's a completely radical idea, but the more you write, the better a writer you become, and the more likely you are to sell.
**Important Contrasting Opinion: Literary agent Miriam Kriss responded with the following in comments: I sold someone out of the slush pile last week to a major publisher and I'd like to think I'm more than decent. Any agent will take you on when there's money on the table, but only an agent who will really fight for you will take you on out of the slush. That being said, if you have an offer in hand, be picky. Find an agent who will really share your vision of your career and your brand and help you build both. Don't panic and take the first person who says yes. The offer won't evaporate if you take a week or so to decide.
You can read more about Ms. Kriss in an interview she did here.
I suspect JM is a writer after my own heart. So let's tackle this list of questions:
Specifically, what methods work and what methods don't work for marketing your novel, or, by order of increasing effectiveness, what methods have you used to market your novels?
Traditional marketing methods, such as widgets, booksignings, conference appearances, mail-outs and print advertising are the least effective. Newer marketing such as websites, online interviews, articles and weblogs are better and, depending on the quality and appeal involved, can be terrific.
M.J. Rose's theory of getting big time media attention, particularly the kind that thrives on scandal, is likely the best marketing, but it can also be the worst. I tried most of the traditional methods for my first novel, and the newer stuff for the first Darkyn book, but I only kept up a small web site for all the books in between.
In your discussions with your published cronies, what are the similarities and differences in the effectiveness of their marketing efforts when compared to yours?
I don't really have any published cronies. My best friend is an author, but we talk about the creative side of work almost exclusively. I sometimes offer advice upon request, but I rarely if ever talk about my stuff with anyone else.
What methods have other published authors reported to you as successful that you haven't tried yet?
None so far.
How helpful were your publishers in marketing your novels?
My publishers used to take out print ads in the trades, and send out the usual amount of review copies. To my knowledge, that's all the marketing they've ever done for me. Print ads do very little for a book, and you all already know my opinion of reviewers.
What promises did your publishers make to you regarding the marketing of your novels and how many of those promises did they keep?
My publishers never promised me anything on marketing in writing. Of the half-dozen verbal promises that were made, only one was kept. I never believe anything unless it's in writing.
Should I get an agent before circulating my first novel to editors/publishers?
People are going to debate this forever. In today's market, a decent agent** will not take you on without a book offer from a major publisher in hand. I'd recommend nailing an offer first, then go agent-hunting.
What's your take on online critique groups and/or critique groups in general?
They don't work for me, but I know many other writers depend on them and enjoy them. If they help you, great. If they mess with you, dump them.
Assuming you had a day job, how long after you first became published did you quit your day job?
I had retired from business and was a ten-year veteran housewife when I got published. I'm still a housewife, and aside from writing, taking care of the people I love is not something I'm likely to quit doing.
If you haven't already done so, if you could only give us one bit of advice about the business of writing and selling books, what would that be?
Oh, no pressure . . . okay: Somewhere in the midst of all the important marketing, strategizing, planning, researching and obsessing, try to write some books. I know, it's a completely radical idea, but the more you write, the better a writer you become, and the more likely you are to sell.
**Important Contrasting Opinion: Literary agent Miriam Kriss responded with the following in comments: I sold someone out of the slush pile last week to a major publisher and I'd like to think I'm more than decent. Any agent will take you on when there's money on the table, but only an agent who will really fight for you will take you on out of the slush. That being said, if you have an offer in hand, be picky. Find an agent who will really share your vision of your career and your brand and help you build both. Don't panic and take the first person who says yes. The offer won't evaporate if you take a week or so to decide.
You can read more about Ms. Kriss in an interview she did here.
Writing & Selling VII
Ellen Fisher wrote in comments: PBW, I recently read an article about Janet Evanovich, who basically said that selling books is all about taking up as much "real estate" in the stores as possible, which means writing across genres. Since you write in multiple genres too, I'd love to hear your take on this when you return.
The Divine Ms. E definitely takes up major real estate with her Stephanie Plum series and the collaboration romances she writes with other authors, but no matter what she publishes, it ends up on the bestseller racks and in the front of the store. Prime turf to sell books -- but getting there isn't easy.
In my situation, being all over a bookstore doesn't have much impact on my sales. For one thing, despite my presence on the internet, few bookstore patrons are familiar with the diversity of my work. They don't know that Jessica Hall = S.L. Viehl = Lynn Viehl = [Writer-for-hire Pseudonym] = Rebecca Kelly and so on. The most crossover I've seen has been from new readers of the Darkyn books who went and found my SF novels, but the pseudonym surnames are the same, and unusual. If I was writing those books as Lynn Smith and S.L. Smith, they probably wouldn't have found my other novels.
Also consider that for various reasons most publishers don't want writers to use the same name or pseudonym when they write in other genres. If you write in more than two genres, or work for more than one publisher, you'll probably have a hard time keeping the same name on all your books.
What are the alternatives to getting more real estate in the stores? A large print run that puts you in the front of the store is great -- as long as your books sell so you don't have huge returns. These days a 100K print run will not get you in the front of a major chain store. I'd guess it takes a 150-200K minimum. Shelf sitters, book dumps and other eye-catchers might grab some attention, but not enough to spike your sell-through. There's just too much competition.
The publishers and the booksellers are the ones who decide who gets prime store real estate, and it's always the established bestsellers or the rookies who for whatever reason get major backing for their first book. Which we'll all agree is not fair, but that's how this business works.
If you're not fortunate enough to be a BSLer or Elizabeth Kostova, then maybe the best thing you can do is to write the kind of books people want to read. Dazzle your readers, and they will tell other people about your books. Reader buzz is something publishers and booksellers can't generate, buy, control or reserve for their pet authors. It can only be earned -- by great storytellers.
The Divine Ms. E definitely takes up major real estate with her Stephanie Plum series and the collaboration romances she writes with other authors, but no matter what she publishes, it ends up on the bestseller racks and in the front of the store. Prime turf to sell books -- but getting there isn't easy.
In my situation, being all over a bookstore doesn't have much impact on my sales. For one thing, despite my presence on the internet, few bookstore patrons are familiar with the diversity of my work. They don't know that Jessica Hall = S.L. Viehl = Lynn Viehl = [Writer-for-hire Pseudonym] = Rebecca Kelly and so on. The most crossover I've seen has been from new readers of the Darkyn books who went and found my SF novels, but the pseudonym surnames are the same, and unusual. If I was writing those books as Lynn Smith and S.L. Smith, they probably wouldn't have found my other novels.
Also consider that for various reasons most publishers don't want writers to use the same name or pseudonym when they write in other genres. If you write in more than two genres, or work for more than one publisher, you'll probably have a hard time keeping the same name on all your books.
What are the alternatives to getting more real estate in the stores? A large print run that puts you in the front of the store is great -- as long as your books sell so you don't have huge returns. These days a 100K print run will not get you in the front of a major chain store. I'd guess it takes a 150-200K minimum. Shelf sitters, book dumps and other eye-catchers might grab some attention, but not enough to spike your sell-through. There's just too much competition.
The publishers and the booksellers are the ones who decide who gets prime store real estate, and it's always the established bestsellers or the rookies who for whatever reason get major backing for their first book. Which we'll all agree is not fair, but that's how this business works.
If you're not fortunate enough to be a BSLer or Elizabeth Kostova, then maybe the best thing you can do is to write the kind of books people want to read. Dazzle your readers, and they will tell other people about your books. Reader buzz is something publishers and booksellers can't generate, buy, control or reserve for their pet authors. It can only be earned -- by great storytellers.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Sub Op
Want to try out writing vampire fiction but unwilling to commit to a novel? Simon Owens over at Lithaven has posted some sub guidelines for Vampires 2. They're looking for "Action Packed Short Stories that have plots dealing with a pretty sexy female vampire and a mortal man falling in love with each other."
It's not much money -- $25 per story -- but they accept electronic subs. More details can be found here.
It's not much money -- $25 per story -- but they accept electronic subs. More details can be found here.
Writing & Selling VI
Jessica wrote in comments: The discussion I would like to read most is about conflict. I never seem to have enough of it in my stories and when I brainstorm for ways to increase the conflict I find myself saying, "That would so never happen."
Jessica, your present solution -- "...to just keep writing and know I'll figure it out eventually." -- isn't a bad one. More often than not, the toughest reader to convince is the author of the story. Sometimes you subconsciously detangle this stuff as you write, though, so pushing through can help.
Back when I started babbling about how I write novels, I mentioned asking a character three questions. Thing is, the characters come from the writer, so you're really asking yourself those questions, i.e. "If I was a bioengineered doctor who wanted to do no harm, what's the worst thing that could happen to me?" The worst thing should be what you believe could happen to such a character.
Our belief systems are all different, and in some part they govern how we write. The more pragmatic you are, the more you'll wrestle with the impractical or unlikely. Wrangle it into a form that it makes sense to you. Example: I don't believe in magic or mythic creatures, but I write around that disbelief by making the magic function only in dreams and turning the mythic creatures into aliens populating another part of the galaxy in a distant future.
I think conflict in fiction needs a good balance of reality and imagination. Enough of the real stuff to make the story resonate with the reader, but not so much that it reads like a lecture or a textbook. You shouldn't go so far off into Imagination LaLaLand that the reader can't make sense of the story, either.
You writers and readers out there, what makes novel conflict work for you? How do you make the conflict you dream up work?
Jessica, your present solution -- "...to just keep writing and know I'll figure it out eventually." -- isn't a bad one. More often than not, the toughest reader to convince is the author of the story. Sometimes you subconsciously detangle this stuff as you write, though, so pushing through can help.
Back when I started babbling about how I write novels, I mentioned asking a character three questions. Thing is, the characters come from the writer, so you're really asking yourself those questions, i.e. "If I was a bioengineered doctor who wanted to do no harm, what's the worst thing that could happen to me?" The worst thing should be what you believe could happen to such a character.
Our belief systems are all different, and in some part they govern how we write. The more pragmatic you are, the more you'll wrestle with the impractical or unlikely. Wrangle it into a form that it makes sense to you. Example: I don't believe in magic or mythic creatures, but I write around that disbelief by making the magic function only in dreams and turning the mythic creatures into aliens populating another part of the galaxy in a distant future.
I think conflict in fiction needs a good balance of reality and imagination. Enough of the real stuff to make the story resonate with the reader, but not so much that it reads like a lecture or a textbook. You shouldn't go so far off into Imagination LaLaLand that the reader can't make sense of the story, either.
You writers and readers out there, what makes novel conflict work for you? How do you make the conflict you dream up work?
Pet Panic
I couldn't find Jak this morning. I woke up, went out and did the cats' food and water, and Jak, who is always first to the food bowl, didn't show up.
Jak has bad lungs from a respiratory infection that put him on Humane Society Death Row as a kitten, so I walked around the house listening for his wheezing. Not a sound. I called to him, but no answering yowl. The other two will occasionally play hide-and-seek with me, but not Jak. He's like a dog; call his name and he's in your lap two seconds later.
I checked all the rooms, in all the closets, and under all the beds. Jak is a big kitty, 22-1/2 lbs, so sometimes he gets stuck in odd places. I went out to the garage, into which Jak loves to sneak. I checked under my car and under the hood. No cat.
By this time I was convinced he'd slipped out while I was bringing the groceries in and was dead. A typical hysterical pet owner reaction, but Jak has never lived outside. He's got claws, of course, but if a fox or coyote came up to him he'd probably try to lick its nose. Then there was the local traffic; much faster than Jak. I put on my shoes and went out and walked the road, looking for his body. No corpse, and none of my early-morning neighbors had seen him.
I came home and wondered what the hell I was going to tell my family, when I remembered a closet I hadn't checked. It's under the stairs, and I had it open last night for a few minutes while I was stowing some photo albums.
I opened the door, and out popped Jak, looking highly indignant.
Jak has bad lungs from a respiratory infection that put him on Humane Society Death Row as a kitten, so I walked around the house listening for his wheezing. Not a sound. I called to him, but no answering yowl. The other two will occasionally play hide-and-seek with me, but not Jak. He's like a dog; call his name and he's in your lap two seconds later.
I checked all the rooms, in all the closets, and under all the beds. Jak is a big kitty, 22-1/2 lbs, so sometimes he gets stuck in odd places. I went out to the garage, into which Jak loves to sneak. I checked under my car and under the hood. No cat.
By this time I was convinced he'd slipped out while I was bringing the groceries in and was dead. A typical hysterical pet owner reaction, but Jak has never lived outside. He's got claws, of course, but if a fox or coyote came up to him he'd probably try to lick its nose. Then there was the local traffic; much faster than Jak. I put on my shoes and went out and walked the road, looking for his body. No corpse, and none of my early-morning neighbors had seen him.
I came home and wondered what the hell I was going to tell my family, when I remembered a closet I hadn't checked. It's under the stairs, and I had it open last night for a few minutes while I was stowing some photo albums.
I opened the door, and out popped Jak, looking highly indignant.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Shorn
The unpacking is almost done. Ditto the latest book. It'll probably take me another three weeks to catch up on e-mail, but I'm working on it (and my apologies to everyone who is waiting patiently for responses. I'm really flooded.)
As a result, I have not had time to do much of anything, especially self-maintenance. Which is why this morning when I looked in the mirror I thought my hair was falling out. It wasn't, but my roots had grown out to a solid inch of white. Beyond the white was a narrow margin of light brown-red/silvery hair where the non-permanent dye is fading. The rest is dark brown that glows dark red in the sunlight.
As I was pretty sure the Pepe Le Pue look is not going to come into fashion any time soon, and I don't have time now to mess with it, I took myself off to the nearest decent hair salon. I was smart this time: I waited for an hour for the most experienced stylist, dropped into her chair, pointed to my head and said, "Do something."
To her credit, she didn't quit her job on the spot, but pursed her lips and rummaged through my tresses. She questioned me like a Style Cop: "You used what here? And here? What were you trying to do?" Whenever I answered, she hmmmmed. Not the good kind of hmmm, either. The ominous, your-hair-is-toast hmmmm.
Finally she delivered the verdict: "We'll do a test, see if we can work in highlights to blend it."
I remembered the last time I bleached my hair. I walked down the street, cars skidded off the road. "What if it turns orange?"
"You'll have to cut it off or grow it out."
The stylist smeared the goop on a test strand, foiled me, and I began to pray to Kelly Clarkson. Twenty minutes later, the foil was gingerly removed and the highlighted hair examined. She said, "I think we can do it if we trim some of the really dark stuff."
We negotiated on the length -- I wasn't spending another 6 months looking like a damn Madame Alexander doll -- and then she went to work. Two hours, two containers of bleach and a pile of hair on the carpet later, she let me put my glasses on to see the final results.
In the mirror was Meg Ryan.
Well, a chubby, middle-aged, myopic, streaky brown/blonde version of Meg Ryan, anyway. The cut she'd given me is semi-short, chunky-layered from earlobes to just about my shoulders. My silver roots blend in nicely with the golden blonde highlights and the way she worked them in with the dark brown makes my hair resemble a polished tiger eye stone.
Before I floated out the door on a wave of hair bliss, my savior loaded me up with smoothing and nourishing hair products that cost more than I want to think about. I promised her I would never dye my hair myself again, and this time I wasn't lying. That Pepe Le Pue look was pretty scary.
Like any girl, I came home and spent ten minutes in front of the mirror, studying and debating it all. Was it too young a style? Too short? Too light? Then there were all the new hair politics involved: Can I still call myself a redhead? Does having highlights mean I have to be nice to blondes now? What if I washed out all the blow-dried waves and styling gel and ended up looking like Willard?
I just took a shower, washed out all the crap, combed and let it dry, as I always do, by itself. I may be hair-vain as hell, but I can't stand blow dryers. It all dried into a slightly rumpled but still acceptable Meg Ryanish mop.
I know my hair. It will take another two years for everything to grow out and me to go completely au naturale. I'm not sure pure white is going to be any better than me going blonde, in which case, I might start wearing my Cubs cap outside. But for once, after years of awful do's and purple dye jobs and never ever being happy with my head, I think I actually love this cut and color--
(known universe collapses)
As a result, I have not had time to do much of anything, especially self-maintenance. Which is why this morning when I looked in the mirror I thought my hair was falling out. It wasn't, but my roots had grown out to a solid inch of white. Beyond the white was a narrow margin of light brown-red/silvery hair where the non-permanent dye is fading. The rest is dark brown that glows dark red in the sunlight.
As I was pretty sure the Pepe Le Pue look is not going to come into fashion any time soon, and I don't have time now to mess with it, I took myself off to the nearest decent hair salon. I was smart this time: I waited for an hour for the most experienced stylist, dropped into her chair, pointed to my head and said, "Do something."
To her credit, she didn't quit her job on the spot, but pursed her lips and rummaged through my tresses. She questioned me like a Style Cop: "You used what here? And here? What were you trying to do?" Whenever I answered, she hmmmmed. Not the good kind of hmmm, either. The ominous, your-hair-is-toast hmmmm.
Finally she delivered the verdict: "We'll do a test, see if we can work in highlights to blend it."
I remembered the last time I bleached my hair. I walked down the street, cars skidded off the road. "What if it turns orange?"
"You'll have to cut it off or grow it out."
The stylist smeared the goop on a test strand, foiled me, and I began to pray to Kelly Clarkson. Twenty minutes later, the foil was gingerly removed and the highlighted hair examined. She said, "I think we can do it if we trim some of the really dark stuff."
We negotiated on the length -- I wasn't spending another 6 months looking like a damn Madame Alexander doll -- and then she went to work. Two hours, two containers of bleach and a pile of hair on the carpet later, she let me put my glasses on to see the final results.
In the mirror was Meg Ryan.
Well, a chubby, middle-aged, myopic, streaky brown/blonde version of Meg Ryan, anyway. The cut she'd given me is semi-short, chunky-layered from earlobes to just about my shoulders. My silver roots blend in nicely with the golden blonde highlights and the way she worked them in with the dark brown makes my hair resemble a polished tiger eye stone.
Before I floated out the door on a wave of hair bliss, my savior loaded me up with smoothing and nourishing hair products that cost more than I want to think about. I promised her I would never dye my hair myself again, and this time I wasn't lying. That Pepe Le Pue look was pretty scary.
Like any girl, I came home and spent ten minutes in front of the mirror, studying and debating it all. Was it too young a style? Too short? Too light? Then there were all the new hair politics involved: Can I still call myself a redhead? Does having highlights mean I have to be nice to blondes now? What if I washed out all the blow-dried waves and styling gel and ended up looking like Willard?
I just took a shower, washed out all the crap, combed and let it dry, as I always do, by itself. I may be hair-vain as hell, but I can't stand blow dryers. It all dried into a slightly rumpled but still acceptable Meg Ryanish mop.
I know my hair. It will take another two years for everything to grow out and me to go completely au naturale. I'm not sure pure white is going to be any better than me going blonde, in which case, I might start wearing my Cubs cap outside. But for once, after years of awful do's and purple dye jobs and never ever being happy with my head, I think I actually love this cut and color--
(known universe collapses)
Writing & Selling V
Mary Stella wrote in comments: Right now, my biggest conflict with writing and selling books is how to balance all the aspects of the business with my life and day job. So much to do with marketing and promotion on top of writing -- so little time to do it!
I admire writers who work in publishing and hold down a day job. Writing full-time is something we all aspire to, but in reality, it can't be done (unless you're a wealthy childless orphan living in a plastic bubble are surrounded by lots of trustworthy servants.)
Even if you don't have a day job, you've got a life that probably includes a spouse or significant other, children, a home, extended family, friends, and/or pets. At some point, no matter how understanding they are, the people in your life need your attention.
Balancing writing with your day job and your life requires very creative time management, but you first need to know how well you're using your time. Put on a watch and slip a little notebook and pen in your pocket, and go about doing what you usually do every day, only write down what it is and how much time you spend on it. Repeat for an entire week, then tally up your activities and hours.
You should have time listed very day when you were writing or working on writing-related projects. If you didn't write, look at what you actually did that day. What would you be willing to trade off for some writing time? Twenty hours a week watching television, talking on the phone for social reasons, playing video games or cruising the internet could be turned into 5,000-10,000 words in new material.
Be sensitive to your creative rhythms during the day, too. I always thought I was a night person (I'm not.) I doubled my productivity by switching from being a mainly evening-nighttime writer to predawn writer. It was hard to get used to beginning my day at 5 am, but I found out that I write better and faster early in the morning while I'm more in the mood to do editing and other projects at night.
Don't try to go the all-work, no-play route; you'll likely burn out. No matter how busy I am, every day I take an hour to paint, quilt, listen to music, walk or do something else that makes me feel relaxed and happy.
If you've found something that better manages your time and/or boosts your productivity, let us know in comments.
I admire writers who work in publishing and hold down a day job. Writing full-time is something we all aspire to, but in reality, it can't be done (unless you're a wealthy childless orphan living in a plastic bubble are surrounded by lots of trustworthy servants.)
Even if you don't have a day job, you've got a life that probably includes a spouse or significant other, children, a home, extended family, friends, and/or pets. At some point, no matter how understanding they are, the people in your life need your attention.
Balancing writing with your day job and your life requires very creative time management, but you first need to know how well you're using your time. Put on a watch and slip a little notebook and pen in your pocket, and go about doing what you usually do every day, only write down what it is and how much time you spend on it. Repeat for an entire week, then tally up your activities and hours.
You should have time listed very day when you were writing or working on writing-related projects. If you didn't write, look at what you actually did that day. What would you be willing to trade off for some writing time? Twenty hours a week watching television, talking on the phone for social reasons, playing video games or cruising the internet could be turned into 5,000-10,000 words in new material.
Be sensitive to your creative rhythms during the day, too. I always thought I was a night person (I'm not.) I doubled my productivity by switching from being a mainly evening-nighttime writer to predawn writer. It was hard to get used to beginning my day at 5 am, but I found out that I write better and faster early in the morning while I'm more in the mood to do editing and other projects at night.
Don't try to go the all-work, no-play route; you'll likely burn out. No matter how busy I am, every day I take an hour to paint, quilt, listen to music, walk or do something else that makes me feel relaxed and happy.
If you've found something that better manages your time and/or boosts your productivity, let us know in comments.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Left Behind
I'm seeing a lot of poor you posts by authors and writers who have since taken off for the RWA National Conference. The assumption here is that RWANat is so fabulous, so fun, and so freaking wonderful that we must be miserable, to be deprived of its many delights.
Ten Delights I Remember from RWA National
1. Staying at an overpriced hotel with 1000 writers, 500 of whom are allergic to perfume and 500 who evidently bathe in it.
2. A room on the twentieth floor, no stairs, and waiting thirty minutes minimum to use an elevator. Which then takes twenty minutes to get to your floor.
3. Chicken something in mysterious brown and purple sauces, salads that appear and taste like grass clippings and wilted leaves, watery iced tea, tar-thick coffee, and something floating in your water glass that looks like a booger.
4. Needing desperately to visit the ladies room while being trapped in a front row seat at a workshop taught by The Most Boring Writer in Romance.
5. Reserving a room with two beds, being stuck with a one-bed room and having a roommate who can't sleep on a rollaway, which turns out to have a lump in it the size of a honeydew.
5a. Insomnia not helped by discovering that your roommate snores, grinds her teeth and talks in her sleep.
6. Dodging being trampled by the herd as they race to get to seats at the big luncheon and fight over who gets the freebie Linda Howard hardcovers (I have seen women almost come to blows over this.)
7. Sitting next to Big Name Author's table at the literacy signing and listening to her readers gush over her books while you smile at the stacks of your novels that no one wants.
8. Walking through the cloud of smoke emitted by the Lung Cancer crowd gathered around the tiny ashcan just outside the lobby door. If one of them is gesturing, add dodging a cigarette burn.
9. Sitting next to a redheaded lady for thirty minutes at a party but avoiding eye contact and not talking to her because you've run out of small talk. Later, having all your friends rush up and ask you what you said while you were sitting next to Nora Roberts (at least Nora can never say I bugged her.)
10. Discovering at the RITA awards that the reason everyone keeps looking back at you is not because your name was announced, but because the well-dressed lady beside you is farting silently but continuously.
Yep. Poor us.
Ten Delights I Remember from RWA National
1. Staying at an overpriced hotel with 1000 writers, 500 of whom are allergic to perfume and 500 who evidently bathe in it.
2. A room on the twentieth floor, no stairs, and waiting thirty minutes minimum to use an elevator. Which then takes twenty minutes to get to your floor.
3. Chicken something in mysterious brown and purple sauces, salads that appear and taste like grass clippings and wilted leaves, watery iced tea, tar-thick coffee, and something floating in your water glass that looks like a booger.
4. Needing desperately to visit the ladies room while being trapped in a front row seat at a workshop taught by The Most Boring Writer in Romance.
5. Reserving a room with two beds, being stuck with a one-bed room and having a roommate who can't sleep on a rollaway, which turns out to have a lump in it the size of a honeydew.
5a. Insomnia not helped by discovering that your roommate snores, grinds her teeth and talks in her sleep.
6. Dodging being trampled by the herd as they race to get to seats at the big luncheon and fight over who gets the freebie Linda Howard hardcovers (I have seen women almost come to blows over this.)
7. Sitting next to Big Name Author's table at the literacy signing and listening to her readers gush over her books while you smile at the stacks of your novels that no one wants.
8. Walking through the cloud of smoke emitted by the Lung Cancer crowd gathered around the tiny ashcan just outside the lobby door. If one of them is gesturing, add dodging a cigarette burn.
9. Sitting next to a redheaded lady for thirty minutes at a party but avoiding eye contact and not talking to her because you've run out of small talk. Later, having all your friends rush up and ask you what you said while you were sitting next to Nora Roberts (at least Nora can never say I bugged her.)
10. Discovering at the RITA awards that the reason everyone keeps looking back at you is not because your name was announced, but because the well-dressed lady beside you is farting silently but continuously.
Yep. Poor us.
Hired Guns
May asked me to blog about how being a writer-for-hire works and a general rundown of how you go about getting the job. Here's what I know:
A publisher, packager or franchise that wants a book or books written to their specifications solicits and hires a novelist to write them. The writer is contracted, usually for a flat fee. The assignment can be anything from a vague idea to a complete package including specific plots, characters, settings, maps, themes and so forth. Wordcounts, page counts and certain creative restrictions (like sexual content) are also generally spelled out.
To break into writer-for-hire work, you usually have to audition, which is a lot like pitching one of your own novels, or the publisher may seek you out based on your published work or a recommendation from someone who knows you and your work (I've recommended a few writers to publishers for projects that weren't right for me.)
My first audition came via a request to my agent, and I was asked to write a sample chapter based on a fairly detailed outline of a series package. On another job, my agent sent a couple of my books to an interested party. I didn't have to do anything for that one. Another job came from the subsequent success of my first writer-for-hire work, and I was asked to submit one-page synopses outlining five books.
When you pitch writer-for-hire jobs, you have to be ready to put together almost anything the publisher wants to see.
One way to find work like this is to make yourself available. If you have an agent, let him/her know you're interested in working for hire and ask that he/she put out the word. Be sure to detail what you'd like to write. You can do the same with your editor. Unpublished writers have a tougher time getting writer-for-hire work because a) they don't have the agent/editor connections and b) they don't have books in print to demonstrate the level they're writing at and/or their range as a writer.
Drawbacks are plentiful, too. Publishers can contract-gag you so that you aren't permitted to publicize the fact that you've written the book(s) without their permission. If this doesn't sound awful, imagine your writer-for-hire book hitting the New York Times BSL and your publisher deciding that you can't tell anyone. Ever. The publisher usually specifies in the contract that they own the copyright, not you.
The editorial process involved in writer-for-hire work is much more intense, particularly on books that have a lot of predetermined factors. Because you're hired to write what they tell you to write, you have to actually do that. Another writer or writers may share the same pseudonym or work on the same series with you, and you have to keep track of each other's work.
The rewards? A source of income, publishing credits which you can list when submitting your own work to other publishers, a chance to test your range. It challenges you to write your best on demand, and that can be fun.
A publisher, packager or franchise that wants a book or books written to their specifications solicits and hires a novelist to write them. The writer is contracted, usually for a flat fee. The assignment can be anything from a vague idea to a complete package including specific plots, characters, settings, maps, themes and so forth. Wordcounts, page counts and certain creative restrictions (like sexual content) are also generally spelled out.
To break into writer-for-hire work, you usually have to audition, which is a lot like pitching one of your own novels, or the publisher may seek you out based on your published work or a recommendation from someone who knows you and your work (I've recommended a few writers to publishers for projects that weren't right for me.)
My first audition came via a request to my agent, and I was asked to write a sample chapter based on a fairly detailed outline of a series package. On another job, my agent sent a couple of my books to an interested party. I didn't have to do anything for that one. Another job came from the subsequent success of my first writer-for-hire work, and I was asked to submit one-page synopses outlining five books.
When you pitch writer-for-hire jobs, you have to be ready to put together almost anything the publisher wants to see.
One way to find work like this is to make yourself available. If you have an agent, let him/her know you're interested in working for hire and ask that he/she put out the word. Be sure to detail what you'd like to write. You can do the same with your editor. Unpublished writers have a tougher time getting writer-for-hire work because a) they don't have the agent/editor connections and b) they don't have books in print to demonstrate the level they're writing at and/or their range as a writer.
Drawbacks are plentiful, too. Publishers can contract-gag you so that you aren't permitted to publicize the fact that you've written the book(s) without their permission. If this doesn't sound awful, imagine your writer-for-hire book hitting the New York Times BSL and your publisher deciding that you can't tell anyone. Ever. The publisher usually specifies in the contract that they own the copyright, not you.
The editorial process involved in writer-for-hire work is much more intense, particularly on books that have a lot of predetermined factors. Because you're hired to write what they tell you to write, you have to actually do that. Another writer or writers may share the same pseudonym or work on the same series with you, and you have to keep track of each other's work.
The rewards? A source of income, publishing credits which you can list when submitting your own work to other publishers, a chance to test your range. It challenges you to write your best on demand, and that can be fun.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Eyerolls
Reviewer David Kipen complains about hostile e-mailed criticism he's received for his "mixed" review of the latest Harry Potter novel. He does welcome non-threatening e-mails, though, implying in the article that he's somewhat attention-starved. So while Dave can say whatever he wants, he chafes at being criticized and prefers favorable e-mails only. Got that?
Sarah Weinman states she was only being deliberately provocative when referring to publication in paperback original as a ghetto, and now would simply like to know if PBOs are a marketing strategy change or a backward step for writers published in hardcover. See, Monica? We're not Eastern European orphans of the Publishing Ghetto after all. We're a marketing strategy, or maybe we're backward. Stayed tuned to find out!
Sarah Weinman states she was only being deliberately provocative when referring to publication in paperback original as a ghetto, and now would simply like to know if PBOs are a marketing strategy change or a backward step for writers published in hardcover. See, Monica? We're not Eastern European orphans of the Publishing Ghetto after all. We're a marketing strategy, or maybe we're backward. Stayed tuned to find out!
Bookselling
To settle an argument I'm having, I need some booksellers to answer this question: when an author drops in and signs all their mass market books in stock, and the books don't sell, do you keep them forever, or do you strip covers and return them like the unsigned stock?
Writing & Selling IV
Lori Devoti wrote in comments: How about knowing you are writing the right thing for you?
One popular method is to depend on others (writer friends, crit groups, teachers, agents, editors, etc.) to look at your work and tell you which is right for you. There is nothing wrong with this, and it can be helpful if you already have a high success rate with the feedback you get from these folks -- meaning, things they give you the green light on actually sell for you and do well on the market.
That method didn't work for me.
You can also test drive genres and different ideas in short story form. If you're a published author, you can submit them to magazines and anthos and see what sells. I put mine up on my old web site and gathered feedback from readers, who told me what they liked. I took the stories they responded most positively to and made them novel length, which resulted in three book sales.
If that doesn't appeal to you, do some self-analysis. Are you having fun, or are you fighting for every word? Do you run to the keyboard, or come up with excuses to avoid it? Are you faithful to your genre, or are you playing around with others on the side? What do you love? What do you want to do on the page? Is there anything you're dying to try out, and if so, what's stopping you?
Anyone else have ideas, methods or experiences that resulted in finding and writing what was right for you?
One popular method is to depend on others (writer friends, crit groups, teachers, agents, editors, etc.) to look at your work and tell you which is right for you. There is nothing wrong with this, and it can be helpful if you already have a high success rate with the feedback you get from these folks -- meaning, things they give you the green light on actually sell for you and do well on the market.
That method didn't work for me.
You can also test drive genres and different ideas in short story form. If you're a published author, you can submit them to magazines and anthos and see what sells. I put mine up on my old web site and gathered feedback from readers, who told me what they liked. I took the stories they responded most positively to and made them novel length, which resulted in three book sales.
If that doesn't appeal to you, do some self-analysis. Are you having fun, or are you fighting for every word? Do you run to the keyboard, or come up with excuses to avoid it? Are you faithful to your genre, or are you playing around with others on the side? What do you love? What do you want to do on the page? Is there anything you're dying to try out, and if so, what's stopping you?
Anyone else have ideas, methods or experiences that resulted in finding and writing what was right for you?
Done and Done
Mr. Winter finished his novel Devil's Dance tonight, bless his prolific heart. Which means I won my bet and the Loser now has to pay up*.
Congratulations, Jim.
(*specifically, a nice-size donation to my charity, The Breast Cancer Research Foundation.)
Congratulations, Jim.
(*specifically, a nice-size donation to my charity, The Breast Cancer Research Foundation.)
Monday, July 25, 2005
Mind Your Place
Sarah Weinman assures the Lit-Heads that while certain writers deserve nothing more, it is not wholly shameful to be published in mass market original via Working the paperback ghetto to your advantage.
I say let's welcome them with open arms. Come on, you guys, hop in the lowrider of publishing and we'll take you for a spin through our murky little neighborhood. You will need to leave your fancy book tours, bigass advances and personal publicist pacifiers at home, unless you want to get your face kicked in.
Wait, does this mean I have to change the name of the blog to Ghetto Writer?
I say let's welcome them with open arms. Come on, you guys, hop in the lowrider of publishing and we'll take you for a spin through our murky little neighborhood. You will need to leave your fancy book tours, bigass advances and personal publicist pacifiers at home, unless you want to get your face kicked in.
Wait, does this mean I have to change the name of the blog to Ghetto Writer?
Ten Ten
Ten Things about Ten Things
1. The Top Ten Blog.
2. The Top Ten Dot Cons.
3. The Ten Most Translated Authors.
4. The FBI's Ten Most Wanted Fugitives.
5. Pat Holt's Ten Mistakes Writers Don't See (But Can Easily Fix When They Do.)
6. David Letterman's searchable Top Ten Archive.
7. Peter Schjeldahl’s Ten Commandments for Artists: "Work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, don't whine." (Found over in the archives at ArtsJournal.com)
8. British rock band Ten's official web site.
9. Be on the lookout for gators, ghosts and construction workers in the Top Ten Cam Sites
10. My personal favorite from the StarLines archived top ten lists, The Top Ten Signs You've Attended Too Many Writing Workshops.
1. The Top Ten Blog.
2. The Top Ten Dot Cons.
3. The Ten Most Translated Authors.
4. The FBI's Ten Most Wanted Fugitives.
5. Pat Holt's Ten Mistakes Writers Don't See (But Can Easily Fix When They Do.)
6. David Letterman's searchable Top Ten Archive.
7. Peter Schjeldahl’s Ten Commandments for Artists: "Work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, don't whine." (Found over in the archives at ArtsJournal.com)
8. British rock band Ten's official web site.
9. Be on the lookout for gators, ghosts and construction workers in the Top Ten Cam Sites
10. My personal favorite from the StarLines archived top ten lists, The Top Ten Signs You've Attended Too Many Writing Workshops.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Writing & Selling III
Margaret wrote in comments: As far as the business of selling books, I read something somewhere (and no I can't remember where) that said you should establish yourself in a genre with 3-5 books before adding a new genre. Looking at your publication dates, I kind of figure you didn't follow that model. My question is: what do you think of the idea and maybe both what happened in your case with the romance and SF (I know StarDoc was your first, but the Gena Hales followed soon after.) and if you'd change anything given the chance to start again?
I didn't follow any model. If it wasn't in Writer's Digest, my only source of information about the industry (yes, go ahead, snort) then I didn't know about it.
My initial plan was to write what I wanted to, pitch everything I wrote, and sell as many books as possible. That worked fairly well, until I lost two editors and hit a career slump. That was when I added work as a writer-for-hire as needed to pay the bills and pulled out of the slump.
For multi-genre writers who want to publish in more than two genres, the 3-5 book/genre establishment model doesn't work. Even for the two-genre writers it can be hazardous. Establishing slaps a label on you and, whether you're successful or not, may run interference with you moving into the next genre. (See more about this in the comments I made about Alison's reference to the same model here.)
The big problem with actively publishing and achieving success in more than two genres is the production level required. You should write and sell at least one, preferably two novels in that genre per year. Multiply that by the number of genres in which you want to publish. Three genres = three to six books per year. Five genres = five to ten books a year. Aside from the twelve to sixteen hour work days involved in writing that many books, you must also sell them, and keep your numbers healthy enough to keep bringing in the new contracts for several years.
I'm not trying to discourage anyone from multi-genre writing, either. I am proof that it can be done. It does demand discipline, commitment and hard work, and even then there are no guarantees.
If given the chance to start over, ugh, I'm no good at what-if scenarios. Aside from my criminal naivete, I doubt I would change anything. I think having a charmed career without any bumps can spoil a writer, so I'd rather keep all my mistakes. I learned a lot from them. Even this one, awful as it was, helped me.
You writers out there, are there any publishing business models you've found that have helped you? Are there any that you think other writers should avoid? Any that you're looking for right now?
I didn't follow any model. If it wasn't in Writer's Digest, my only source of information about the industry (yes, go ahead, snort) then I didn't know about it.
My initial plan was to write what I wanted to, pitch everything I wrote, and sell as many books as possible. That worked fairly well, until I lost two editors and hit a career slump. That was when I added work as a writer-for-hire as needed to pay the bills and pulled out of the slump.
For multi-genre writers who want to publish in more than two genres, the 3-5 book/genre establishment model doesn't work. Even for the two-genre writers it can be hazardous. Establishing slaps a label on you and, whether you're successful or not, may run interference with you moving into the next genre. (See more about this in the comments I made about Alison's reference to the same model here.)
The big problem with actively publishing and achieving success in more than two genres is the production level required. You should write and sell at least one, preferably two novels in that genre per year. Multiply that by the number of genres in which you want to publish. Three genres = three to six books per year. Five genres = five to ten books a year. Aside from the twelve to sixteen hour work days involved in writing that many books, you must also sell them, and keep your numbers healthy enough to keep bringing in the new contracts for several years.
I'm not trying to discourage anyone from multi-genre writing, either. I am proof that it can be done. It does demand discipline, commitment and hard work, and even then there are no guarantees.
If given the chance to start over, ugh, I'm no good at what-if scenarios. Aside from my criminal naivete, I doubt I would change anything. I think having a charmed career without any bumps can spoil a writer, so I'd rather keep all my mistakes. I learned a lot from them. Even this one, awful as it was, helped me.
You writers out there, are there any publishing business models you've found that have helped you? Are there any that you think other writers should avoid? Any that you're looking for right now?
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Morning Surprises
Old morning ritual: Get up before dawn, brew my tea and take it out on the porch to watch the sunrise. New morning ritual: All of the above minus the sunrise (porch is on the sunset side of the house.) Here at the new house, I may be watching, among other things, the bats.
Yep, we have real bats: wren-size brown ones that like to swoop down and gobble up whatever is fluttering around the porch lights. And guess who was sitting directly under the lights yesterday morning, the first time one of these speedy little bug catchers came by for breakfast and brought twenty of his friends?
One of them flew not six inches from my face, so fast I finally get that like a bat out of hell analogy. What did fearless PBW do? Why, she shrieked like a girl and ran in the house so fast she left flame trails, is what.
I really don't want to be afraid of the resident fauna, so I braved the pre-dawn Moth Tartar feast again this morning. I sat tense and quietly terrified, waiting for them and remembering everything Jeff Corwin ever said about not fearing bats. Jeff, you're a crazy man, do you know that?
The bats never showed up, and as the sun turned night sky into that lovely pre-dawn violet-blue, I switched off the porch lights and relaxed. That was when something that looked like a big silver dragonfly with its tail hanging down sort of floated by the Japanese maple near me.
I peered at it, thinking, Oh, God, what now?
It moved weird -- fast/slow, fast/slow, and not like a bug at all -- and went into the flower gardens. Since it didn't bring twenty friends with it, I stepped off the porch to have a closer look.
There hovering above the white roses was this teeny little critter, no bigger than my thumb, all silver and blue, flying on dragonfly wings. I was wondering if Celestial Seasonings had accidentally added some illegal herb to my tea when I saw that it had a beak. It finally dawned on me that I was looking at a real live hummingbird. Right there, not two feet away from me.
I watched it sample some of the roses, and then it seemed to notice me and delicately floated off around the house. I was tempted to run after it, but I was still kind of stunned and lost in the magic of the moment. I've never seen a hummingbird except on television. It was like discovering a fairy in my garden.
What's the most surprising thing you've ever found in your backyard?
Yep, we have real bats: wren-size brown ones that like to swoop down and gobble up whatever is fluttering around the porch lights. And guess who was sitting directly under the lights yesterday morning, the first time one of these speedy little bug catchers came by for breakfast and brought twenty of his friends?
One of them flew not six inches from my face, so fast I finally get that like a bat out of hell analogy. What did fearless PBW do? Why, she shrieked like a girl and ran in the house so fast she left flame trails, is what.
I really don't want to be afraid of the resident fauna, so I braved the pre-dawn Moth Tartar feast again this morning. I sat tense and quietly terrified, waiting for them and remembering everything Jeff Corwin ever said about not fearing bats. Jeff, you're a crazy man, do you know that?
The bats never showed up, and as the sun turned night sky into that lovely pre-dawn violet-blue, I switched off the porch lights and relaxed. That was when something that looked like a big silver dragonfly with its tail hanging down sort of floated by the Japanese maple near me.
I peered at it, thinking, Oh, God, what now?
It moved weird -- fast/slow, fast/slow, and not like a bug at all -- and went into the flower gardens. Since it didn't bring twenty friends with it, I stepped off the porch to have a closer look.
There hovering above the white roses was this teeny little critter, no bigger than my thumb, all silver and blue, flying on dragonfly wings. I was wondering if Celestial Seasonings had accidentally added some illegal herb to my tea when I saw that it had a beak. It finally dawned on me that I was looking at a real live hummingbird. Right there, not two feet away from me.
I watched it sample some of the roses, and then it seemed to notice me and delicately floated off around the house. I was tempted to run after it, but I was still kind of stunned and lost in the magic of the moment. I've never seen a hummingbird except on television. It was like discovering a fairy in my garden.
What's the most surprising thing you've ever found in your backyard?
Friday, July 22, 2005
Writing & Selling II
Carter asked in comments: Are professional organizations like RWA, HWA, SFWA, or NWU worth the money? Aside from networking and name exposure, are they actually doing anything worth while for their members?
I've been a member of RWA (three years) and SFWA (one month), but I didn't qualify to join MWA or HWA. I know a little about other writer organizations, like NINC and AG, but not enough to speak about them with authority.
Writer organizations are wonderful for writers who want to meet their favorite authors. All the big annual conferences are a gaggle of famous faces, and they will happily sign books for you, especially if you buy them there. There's also that nice local chapter meeting/luncheon for which you can dress up and go to and hang out with other writers while you eat bad chicken entrees and pass out bookmarks.
If you love having someone tell you how to write, you've hit the jackpot: writer organizations are workshop/seminar factories. You can't belong to one without getting sucked into at least four or five of those things a year. You can also go away for a week to one of those college workshop/retreats and let a famous writer, editor or hasbeen tear your work apart (this costs extra -- a lot extra -- and you usually have to apply for it like a job.)
I'm guessing a lot of you are like me, though, and think that's all bullshit. So let's stop thinking like fans and talk about the real career benefits.
RWA offers only one: the opportunity to pitch at their conferences. Agents and editors from major publishers go to many of these (mainly they go to RWA's annual national conference) and the editors will take appointments for one-on-one pitching (I can't say if the agents do or not. They didn't when I was a member.)
You don't have to join RWA to pitch an editor at a con, however. You can simply go to whatever con they're scheduled to be at and pay the non-member rate. And given RWA's current campaign to censor their membership, I'd recommend not joining. The Sisters have stepped way out of line.
SFWA did not offer editor appointments six years ago, and you had to be a published SF author to join them. I've avoided those people for six years, but maybe they've changed. Any SFWA members out there care to report on the present state of your org and the benefits they offer? Same goes for members of HWA and MWA -- tell us what benefits you enjoy.
If you consider writer organization awards valuable, you should join the respective organization and prepare to do some heavy campaigning via the organization's con circuit (particularly for SFWA awards, which are highly politic.) I don't think any award sells many books, but the trophy does look nice on your mantelpiece.
When you look at a writer's organization, remember that it is set up to make money off you. You pay to join and you pay annual dues. You pay to attend meetings and cons. You pay for ads in the org's magazine. You contribute to various fund raisers. They say it only costs $50 - $100 per year in dues, but you have to add in all the extras you pay for. To be an active member in RWA, for example, runs around $3K to $5K a year (that would cover attending 12 local chapter meetings, 2 regional cons, RT annual and RWA National, plus contest entry fees and other expenses.)
You can work your way up the ranks of your writer org and eventually be comped for con appearances, hotels, airfare, speaking fees, teaching workshops and so forth. If you want to make money off other writers, it may take a while, but watch the upper echelon, do what they do, and no doubt you'll get there.
Whatever organization that you consider joining, ask questions like: "What do I get? Can I pitch my work? Do you offer group insurance? Legal aid?" Etc. If all you get are a membership badge and a monthly or quarterly magazine marketing other writers to you, then I'd suggest taking the money and use it instead for postage to mail out more submissions.
I've been a member of RWA (three years) and SFWA (one month), but I didn't qualify to join MWA or HWA. I know a little about other writer organizations, like NINC and AG, but not enough to speak about them with authority.
Writer organizations are wonderful for writers who want to meet their favorite authors. All the big annual conferences are a gaggle of famous faces, and they will happily sign books for you, especially if you buy them there. There's also that nice local chapter meeting/luncheon for which you can dress up and go to and hang out with other writers while you eat bad chicken entrees and pass out bookmarks.
If you love having someone tell you how to write, you've hit the jackpot: writer organizations are workshop/seminar factories. You can't belong to one without getting sucked into at least four or five of those things a year. You can also go away for a week to one of those college workshop/retreats and let a famous writer, editor or hasbeen tear your work apart (this costs extra -- a lot extra -- and you usually have to apply for it like a job.)
I'm guessing a lot of you are like me, though, and think that's all bullshit. So let's stop thinking like fans and talk about the real career benefits.
RWA offers only one: the opportunity to pitch at their conferences. Agents and editors from major publishers go to many of these (mainly they go to RWA's annual national conference) and the editors will take appointments for one-on-one pitching (I can't say if the agents do or not. They didn't when I was a member.)
You don't have to join RWA to pitch an editor at a con, however. You can simply go to whatever con they're scheduled to be at and pay the non-member rate. And given RWA's current campaign to censor their membership, I'd recommend not joining. The Sisters have stepped way out of line.
SFWA did not offer editor appointments six years ago, and you had to be a published SF author to join them. I've avoided those people for six years, but maybe they've changed. Any SFWA members out there care to report on the present state of your org and the benefits they offer? Same goes for members of HWA and MWA -- tell us what benefits you enjoy.
If you consider writer organization awards valuable, you should join the respective organization and prepare to do some heavy campaigning via the organization's con circuit (particularly for SFWA awards, which are highly politic.) I don't think any award sells many books, but the trophy does look nice on your mantelpiece.
When you look at a writer's organization, remember that it is set up to make money off you. You pay to join and you pay annual dues. You pay to attend meetings and cons. You pay for ads in the org's magazine. You contribute to various fund raisers. They say it only costs $50 - $100 per year in dues, but you have to add in all the extras you pay for. To be an active member in RWA, for example, runs around $3K to $5K a year (that would cover attending 12 local chapter meetings, 2 regional cons, RT annual and RWA National, plus contest entry fees and other expenses.)
You can work your way up the ranks of your writer org and eventually be comped for con appearances, hotels, airfare, speaking fees, teaching workshops and so forth. If you want to make money off other writers, it may take a while, but watch the upper echelon, do what they do, and no doubt you'll get there.
Whatever organization that you consider joining, ask questions like: "What do I get? Can I pitch my work? Do you offer group insurance? Legal aid?" Etc. If all you get are a membership badge and a monthly or quarterly magazine marketing other writers to you, then I'd suggest taking the money and use it instead for postage to mail out more submissions.
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