betsylerner

You Talk Too Much

Posted on April 27, 2010 by betsylerner

On Thursday, April 22, 2010, I attended an event at Regis High School in Manhattan. It was in celebration of my client’s book, Wisenheimer, about a hyper-articulate kid who becomes a pariah as a result of his excessive verbosity until he discovers his salvation: debate. Instead of your usual reading, Mark Oppenheimer organized a debate between himself and Hanna Rosin, they were partnered with Joseph Eddy (Regis ’10) and Claire Littlefield (Stuyvesant ’10). Readers, in a word: delightful.

In a few more words, it was fantastic to listen to the verbal sparring of these brilliant seniors and rusty world champions. I fell in love with Clair Littlefield, a young woman of poise, charm, guts and abundant smarts. The debate proper “Resolved: That American Political Dialogue is in Trouble” was followed by a series of Regis High School boys, er, young men, who were given a few minutes to contribute. Did I say confident, nearly cocky, assured and adorable. A night of blue blazers lining the balcony. It was one of the great book events I’ve ever attended. It was the spirit of words and their power, the spirit of blue blazers, and the spirit of great debate. When I was in high school, I may have debated my friends over which rolling papers we preferred, but that was about it. I was awash in nostalgia for something I barely knew existed.

Filed under: Uncategorized | 9 Comments »

I Heard He Sang A Good Song

Posted on April 26, 2010 by betsylerner

I once went out a bathroom window during a blind date. Said date had a cockatoo and exactly one book in his apartment, prominently displayed on his coffee table: U R WHAT YOU DRIVE. He lived on the ground floor in “rustic style” condo development that boasted big bathroom windows. I actually sacrificed a leather jacket I had recently bought at Loehmann’s and left it on his “coat rack” because I couldn’t face him, the cockatoo, or the book. (In all honesty, the coat, like most stuff you buy at Loehmann’s, wasn’t that great so “sacrifice” is a reach.)

Another blind date, a mid town bar, turns out the guy was, shock of all shocks, writing a book. It was called “Coattails.” And, yes, it was about how he got ahead by riding on other people’s coattails.

Next up, a naturalist I had a wicked crush on. He was cute and mean, a toxic combo for a girl with low self-esteem and high expectations. I made of fool of myself for around six months while he kept taunting me with pages that never materialized. And, yes, pages is a euphemism.

A boy I loved in Senior year of high school resurfaces after twenty years with a…manuscript. And to think of those nights on the hood of my Monte Carlo, reading Rilke and talking about suicide. What does it come down to: a manuscript about his dog.

And so it goes. What is the point of this post? IDK. Just a nostalgic rainy evening to steep in some of life’s dreamy miseries and indignities. Got any?

Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It | 24 Comments »

Like a Bird Without a Song

Posted on April 25, 2010 by betsylerner

I’ve been whining for a while about being stuck with my writing. Pathetic. Finally, had a breakthrough over the last week (or maybe it’s my meds talking), but I feel that I’ve taken the project a few big steps forward. Mother may I? Yes, you may. And in the middle of all this new writing came the title for the screenplay as if on a silver platter with a great roast upon it. The title not only galvanized me into figuring out what the motherfucker is really about, but it also suggested a new structure, which is like getting a new engine in a car.

How important is a title, anyway? For me, it’s crucial. I won’t submit a client’s proposal unless I think we’ve nailed it. To me a great title can vastly improve one’s desire to read the work. Too many people say, “I’m not good at titles,” or, “won’t the publisher change it anyway?” I beg you: search the bible, poetry, rock lyrics, the yellow pages, titles of paintings, John Cheever’s diaries, look under rocks, couch cushions, four leaf clovers, but find a title that kills it.

When do you come up with your title, before, during or after? Where do your titles come from? Do you try them out on people? How do you know when you’ve nailed it?

Filed under: Books, Publishing | 30 Comments »

But My Dream It Lingered Near

Posted on April 22, 2010 by betsylerner

Can you believe I save these things?

Today, in the mail, I received a first novel with a note from the editor, “Hey Betsy — My first acquisition, a real book, at last.” I was so touched by that, remembering so dearly what it meant to acquire that first book and see it through the stages of editing, production, pre-publication jitters, post publication depression. One of the first books I signed up was The Early Arrival of Dreams by Rosemary Mahoney. We met at writing workshop at Johns Hopkins University. She was a teaching fellow, I was a lowly poet.

As with everyone I’ve ever fallen in love with, her writing was the way to my heart. When she went to China the following year, a series of letters she produced were so vivid and alive that I suggested she write a book about her time there. Ballantine offered her a modest advance, and we were off to the races. I can’t remember a more heady time, or a prouder moment than seeing Orville Schell’s full page review of her book in The New York Times. That was hot.

Would love to hear about your first time, loosely interpreted.

Filed under: Uncategorized | 11 Comments »

She Can Turn the World On With Her Smile

Posted on April 21, 2010 by betsylerner

“Will book publishing finally get the comic portrayal it deserves? Production of a CBS pilot is moving ahead for agent Betsy Lerner’s sister Gail Lerner’s sit-com “Open Books.” Lerner, who has been co-executive producer on Ugly Betty, said last fall that ‘publishing is a lot like sitcoms. Although both are supposedly dying, that only makes people more passionate about creating the next great novel or show.’ Tony winner Laura Benanti has been cast as the lead, a book editor at a small New York publishing house, and Aisha Tyler has just joined the cast as her best friend. Scott Foley will have a standing guest star role as “a charismatic free-spirited writer who once had a fling” with Benanti’s character.
–Deadline Hollywood

They neglected to mention that the “mother” is played by Patti Lupone, and my “mother” has already graciously volunteered to help Patti prepare for the role of a lifetime. (Evita, Gypsy, Mrs. Lovett, whatevs.) It’s all incredibly exciting; my sister shoots her first pilot next week. Then it’s up to the network gods to choose which anointed few will actually ever see the light of night. The odds make getting a book in print look like child’s play. One saving grace about this industry is that if you write a book, and a publisher gives you a contract, the book will be published unless something completely unexpected happens like that old crack habit. Movies and tv are even bigger, baggier monsters and they are far more likely to get short-circuited than green lit.

We are all pulling for Gail. My Dad always wanted to be a comedy writer. He used to take her to the Museum of Film and Television where they would watch old Jack Benny routines. He took me to see Don’t Look Now and Rosemary’s Baby, which pretty much explains everything.

Anyone else have stardust in their eyes besides me?

Filed under: Film, You Go Girl | 31 Comments »

How Could So Much Love Be Inside of You?

Posted on April 20, 2010 by betsylerner

I ruin another morning yet again. Downstairs, my husband reads Delillo’s new novel. He’s been up since dawn, reading, making notes in his tiny Catholic trained script. He is completely energized by some idea or sentence and he wants to talk about it. I make a face that can only be interpreted as: you’re not going to make me talk about writing. He wonders aloud how I do this for a living given how much contempt I have for most conversations about writing. He says he’ll never bring it up again. I say, good.

Agh. I really am a bitch. Sometimes, I just hate talking about writing. I’m worn down by certain kinds of conversations I have all day long. I try to apologize to the man known as my husband, but he has turned to granite. I try to make the stone smile. Too late. How we met? A poetry workshop. Then, every Friday night dinner at the Second Avenue Deli followed by St. Mark’s Poetry Workshop followed by hours in the Cloisters Cafe talking about the poets, poetry, writing, every inch of it.

Is there a greater bond than the love of language, unless it’s love of numbers, or music, or breeding Samoyeds. When we married many years later, we joined two formidable poetry libraries with very little overlap. It is now a grand collection. I dream about who to give it to when we’re dead, with the hope of keeping the collection together. Later, he asks me if I want to hear a poem. I do.

Any good stories about living with writers, i.e. your sweet selves?

Filed under: Poetry | 36 Comments »

I Can Call You Betty

Posted on April 19, 2010 by betsylerner

Hi Betsy,

I wrote a query. I got an agent. I wrote a book proposal. I got a publisher. I wrote my 80,000-word manuscript. I’m now in editing hell, but my book is coming out in September and I should be happy! Hard part is over!

Yeah, right.

Now, I must find “famous people” who are willing to read my book and give a quote for the cover. Huh? After climbing all of those mountains I just described, this one is giving me the biggest headache. I don’t know any famous people. I don’t know how to get close to famous people. Help!

Why is this necessary? And how does one go about doing it?

Thanks for any advice…as always, I love your blog.

NAME DELETED

PS–do you still represent NAME DELETED? I think my book would be right up her alley…..

Hey…can’t blame me for trying!!

Dear Name Deleted:

Getting blurbs is the most heinous part of the process unless you are connected up the wazoo. It’s mortifying asking for blurbs. I once saw a galley in a used bookstore in Cape Cod that I had sent out with the letter still inside: Dear Stanley Kunitz, It is with great pleasure that I’m sending XX with the hope that you might offer an endorsement…

The bottom line is that one good blurb can really open some doors, or compel a reader to open your book. Look at newly minted Pulitzer Prize winner Paul Harding’s book, Tinkers. One very sweet blurb on the cover by Marilynne Robinson did not hurt. I may not use Cover Girl make-up because Ellen Degeneres shills for it, but I will read a book because one of my favorite authors blurbs it even if it is another case of log-rolling in our time. Think about how few elements there are to interest a reader strolling through a bookstore crowded with merchandise. A great blurb might grab a reader, it might also grab a reviewer, a producer, etc. They’re like vitamins. They could really help and they won’t hurt.

That said, if you you’re a nobody from nowhere, it really sucks trying to get blurbs. You’re like Oliver at the orphanage: please sir. Hopefully your editor or agent can call in a favor or two. Or perhaps you ‘ll tap into some insanely self-promoting gene that’s been dormant until now and stop at nothing until your back ad is sagging under the weight of so many blurbs. My favorite story of blurbomania involves none other than Walt Whitman who took a line from a letter that Emerson had written and splashed it all over the second edition of his book, ” I greet you at the beginning of a great career. “

Finally, dear writer whose pain I feel, I no longer represent NAME DELETED. But I have a feeling you’re going to be just fine. Let us know!

BLURBS: Where do you stand? As a reader and as a writer?

Filed under: Books, The End of the World as We Know It | 35 Comments »

It’s only there trying to fool the public

Posted on April 18, 2010 by betsylerner

Hi Betsy,

I enjoy your blog.

I am getting a very high response rate on my query letter. I wrote a kick-ass query letter. One agent told me that, not in those words. I’m afraid my manuscript is a disappointment. I think if you read the whole thing (80,000 words), it might contain the spirit of the query letter. But who reads the whole manuscript? I’ve had about six agents request the whole manuscript, but there responses feel like they didn’t get what they paid for.

Should I write a less exciting query letter? Or, is this just the standard rate of rejection, great query letter or no? I’m new at this, and am quickly gaining perspective.

Thanks for your writing and blog.

Dear CoCo:

I can actually relate to this because when I was an editor I was told on more than a few occasions that my pitch was better than the material. That said, your letter strikes me kind of coo-coo for Coconuts. There is only one conclusion to reach: Pull the book back and work on it. Should you write a less exciting cover letter? That’s like telling a girl with an C-cup that she should get a breast reduction. Your letter is completely seductive, your novel is not. Fix the freakin’ novel. If you don’t have a writers’ group, get one. Or hire a freelance editor. It’s not standard to get such a high rate of interest off a query letter (in fact it’s rare); don’t squander these opportunities. Geez, I’m dying to see the letter. But not the book.

Query letters: what are you doing wrong? What are you doing right?

BONUS: I will critique the first five query letters I receive in the “AskBetsy” box. I will post your letter and my response IF THAT IS OKAY WITH YOU. Or I will send you a private response.

Filed under: Agent, Authors, Protocol | 17 Comments »

I Never Stole a Scarf From Harrods But If I Did You Wouldn’t Miss It

Posted on April 16, 2010 by betsylerner

Trip to London Book Fair is off. All flights have been canceled at least until Wednesday due to the volcanic particulate in the air. And I’d been practicing my mid-Atlantic post Material-girl accent all week. Canceled all my publishing appointments, tea at the Savoy, dinner at the Ivy, the old Tate, the new Tate, the Old Vic, the New Victory. Well, I had planned to write that I would be on blogging hiatus for the week, and now you’re stuck with me. Or I’m stuck with myself. However you look at, check back on in Monday for some great new letters from readers and more wanton vulgarity. Until then, as my British agent always says, I love you and leave you.

Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It | 13 Comments »

Hello, It’s Me

Posted on April 15, 2010 by betsylerner

No more hiding behind email. When I have to have a talk, I’m picking up the god-damn phone. In the first place, you find out what the person is thinking, feeling, you can gauge their reaction. Plus you grow balls when you don’t sit there like big pussy typing out some apology or avoiding a confrontation.

I remember when I lived alone, about as lonely as you could be, and the phone would ring and I couldn’t answer. It was like breaking a seal. I became extremely phone phobic. Before the days of answering machines, I could stare down any motherfucking ringing phone. Then, ironically, I entered the work world as the receptionist at Morgan Stanley’s corporate library. Fourteen or so lines for every department. At first, I was freaked out. Then I got the hang of it. Later, there were days when I thought I was dancing on my console. (Of course a joint at lunch followed by three chipwiches might have been partly responsible.)

Fast forward to email and life behind the screen. This really gives writers an edge because they know how to manipulate through language. I could kiss myself for all the bullshit notes I’ve concocted. True beauties. And so, dear love, I must relinquish you as a tool for evil. I must pick up the phone and find my human chord. One of my clients has the best Boston accent which she lays on thick for me, another yawns when she lies, I can tell when another is high (again), and when one is depressed (again). Jim Carroll wheezed through his high Bronx accent and man do I miss the sound of his high, tinny voice.

Filed under: Authors, The End of the World as We Know It | 30 Comments »

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