betsylerner

My Analyst Told Me

Posted on February 3, 2010 by betsylerner

One of my writers once told me that she was seeing a psychiatrist who specialized in writer’s block. In hushed tones, she divulged the names of two fancy schmancy writers who were “cured.” I thought she should have head her examined, if you will.

More than a few writers have told me that they won’t go to therapy because they fear it will interfere with their creative process. This is a position I can’t understand. It may be because I’ve always felt that the “creative process” boiled down to two words: hard work. Who could mess with that?

I've always wanted to write a novel.

The big issue for me was always why I pursued my career in publishing from the moment I left graduate school until now, 25 years later. Most of my friends from my MFA program were taking jobs as waiters and bartenders to fund their writing. Some were traveling the world. I believe I was the only one who rolled on a pair of pantyhose the first Monday after graduation and showed up bright and early at Simon and Schuster. Editorial assistant Lerner, at your service!

I have some dark days when I wonder where I’d be if I put the energy I put into the authors into my own writing. But what I figured out (in therapy) is that I really thrive on my work, that the structure it provides is something I need. And that the actual work I do with writers, especially editing, gives me tremendous satisfaction. It’s a fantastic experience to commune with a writer on the page. For me, temperamentally, writing full time isn’t a good option. Did I need therapy to figure this out?

What say you? Any couch potatoes out there? Has it helped or hurt your writing?

Filed under: Writers, Writing | 28 Comments »

Killing Me Softly

Posted on February 2, 2010 by betsylerner

I used to compare a work in progress to a body on an operating table. If you keep working on it, you can keep it alive. If you leave it for too long, it goes cold. What happens then? When you’ve left the Play-doh outside the can? When you can’t find your way back into a piece. How long before there’s no pulse: a day? three? ten? a month?

What do you do when you lose your way? When your writing doesn’t recognize you, or you it? I’d like to think that work that doesn’t come to fruition is a form of practice. That everything you write need not come to completion, that there is still value in the practice. (I believe this on some level, but I’m also grossed out imparting such a positive world view which runs contrary to everything I believe about writing and life.) What I want to know is this: when do you resuscitate and when is it a DNR?

Filed under: Writing | 19 Comments »

Solid As a Rock

Posted on February 1, 2010 by betsylerner

"Before"

I have a mortifying confession to make. I’ve been doing a boot camp course at my gym for the last month. The first day the instructor showed up wearing all camouflage. This did not bode well. I was sporting one of my literary t-shirts from my vast collection from writers’ conferences I’ve attended over the years. The first two sessions, I went completely white, felt as if I were going to throw up, and saw a wall of white light I choose not to call god.

On Saturday, our young man had us working out on the machines. When he helped me, I noticed him looking at my chest. Now, I know I’ve got a great rack, but it didn’t compute. Then, his eyes got bigger as he focussed in on the faint writing on my shirt: Breadloaf Writers Conference. “Did you go to Breadloaf?” he asked, as if it were Oz. The punch line, of course, is that my boot camp trainer is an aspiring writer.

"After"

Normally, I groan upon making these discoveries. You can barely park your ass down on a plane without running into someone who thinks he’s the next Hemingway. I asked my trainer what he wanted to write about & I have to confess I loved his story. Being the consummate agent, I’ve negotiated a deal with my friend. We’ve set a goal of April 1 for me to lose ten pounds, for him to come up with twenty pages.

Does anyone want to get in on this action. Comment here on what you will accomplish by April 1 (pages or pounds) and we’ll all check back in. Gotta go finish my reps.

Filed under: Agent, Writers | 34 Comments »

and the moon rose over an open field

Posted on January 31, 2010 by betsylerner

This motherfucker doesn't empty itself.

I think one of the worst parts of being a writer is trying to appear normal. Especially at grown-up gatherings such as holidays, dinner parties, gallery openings. I really like the self-check out at the supermarket; cuts down on one more human interaction. What is normal? How would I know? The thing is, I pass. Most of us do. We don’t live in Morocco, or Prague, or wherever the hell Denis Johnson lives. We are among you. Observing, sizing up, spying. Listening in on your conversation and writing down your best lines. We are having an affair with the grad student at the Blue State Cafe, telepathically of course.We are searching for a pen in the bottom of our bag. We are doing our jobs, checking our balances, emptying the dishwasher, again. Why do I feel so desolate?

I want to understand how it is that being by myself with my keyboard is when I feel least alone. Not connected to others, per se. I’ve never understood writers who say they write to help other people. I write to hurt them. Just kidding, sort of. I write to feel normal.

Can anyone relate?

Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It | 64 Comments »

Life is Very Short, and There’s no Time

Posted on January 28, 2010 by betsylerner

Dear Betsy,

I love your blog. I love that you say motherfucker, ass, fuck, shit, and so on. It makes me laugh, smile, and learn what you’re saying all the more. Kudos.

So my true question goes like this. How does a writer get voice in their writing? Are there examples that you just fucking dig, that scream voice? Fuck yeah, voice? What advice would you have for a writer like me, who maybe has a voice, but isn’t getting it on paper like she fucking should?

But in the meantime, would it help to swear my face off on the page? I shvitzed like a whore in church as I fell with that motherfucking 35W bridge, but I took most of the cursing out of my sample, for a variety of reasons – thinking it would limit my readership if I swore too much. But, did that leave my chapter flat? Voiceless?

You are completely awesome. Thank you.

Dear Sweet Love: The only word that I find truly reprehensible in your letter is “kudos.” The first time I heard it (at a publishing meeting), I thought it was a made up word: a cross between a granola bar and that scary movie, Cujo (based on Stephen King’s novel). I thought they were saying, “Cujos, cujos,” and I couldn’t figure it the fuck out.

Don’t swear. It’s unbecoming. Voice is a helluva lot more than some four letter words. It’s everything in one respect because your reader either trusts it or not. Every element matters such as structure, style, character, pacing, plot, etc. but the voice is the engine. It can hum, purr, or roar, but you’ve got to have control of it. It’s probably impossible to teach because it’s in the DNA of the sentences, unlike syntax or tense of pov which you can take a red pen to and say, here, look, this isn’t working.

“Schvitzed like a whore?” Hello? Sprinkle your yiddish even more sparingly than your curse words and you’ll be okay. I think.

Love, Betsy

Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It, Writing | 17 Comments »

State of the Union

Posted on January 28, 2010 by betsylerner

Congratulations to Patti Smith. Just Kids hits the New York Times Bestseller List at #7

Front page New York Times Book Review to run this Sunday: “the most spellbinding and diverting portrait of funky-but-chic New York in the late ’60s and ’70s that any alumnus has committed to print. ..this enchanting book is a reminder that not all youthful vainglory is silly; sometimes it’s preparation. Few artists ever proved it like these two

Congratulations to Temple Grandin’s Animals Make Us Human hits the New York Times paperback bestseller list at #16.

HBO movie “Temple Grandin” airs on Saturday, February 6, 8 pm starring Claire Danes, Julia Ormond (exquisite), Catherine O’Hara and David Strathairn.

Congratulations to Dave Cullen on his Edgar Nomination in the non-fiction category for Columbine, and appearing on over 20 “Best of 2009” book lists.

This blog will return tomorrow to its regularly scheduled posting of mean-spirited, self-aggrandizing, attention mongering, publishing malcontentedness, and potty-mouthed bile to bring to those of us determined to write just a little less hope. But not today. Love, Betsy

Filed under: Authors, Bestseller, Books | 14 Comments »

Summer Lovin’

Posted on January 26, 2010 by betsylerner

Dear Betsy, Since January is the season to apply for summer writing workshops, I wonder what you think of them. For someone who is on draft 10 and year 5 of a novel he started during his MFA, is it worth $1,000 to get a manuscript evaluation at Tin House? Or is that nuts? Other than improving the writing, I imagine the workshops are good for networking. So if a fledgling writer is going to blow a few grand on a workshop, which one? Breadloaf or Tin House? Sewanee or Provincetown? Do you shoot for faculty you admire or authors who write the kinds of book you are writing and might help you land an agent? Thanks in advance for the wisdom and insight. Loyal blog reader

This belongs to Betsy Lerner

Dearest Loyal: I’m going to be honest with you. There is only one reason to go to a summer writing workshop and that is to get laid. I’ve been to four or five writing workshops as a student and I never got laid. This was a huge disappointment. Huge. And I’m not even going to talk about the “dance” they hold in the barn at Breadloaf, aka “Bedloaf.” It’s ridiculous. EVERYONE gets laid. There’s even a faculty fuck pad where everyone leaves their own bottle with name tags! Name tags!

I went to my first summer writing workshop at Johns Hopkins. I wanted to get the poet David St. John for a teacher but I didn’t. Good story? However, a met a woman who would become a lifelong friend, my client, and my best reader. Workshops: three thousand dollars. A reader you trust: priceless.

I think workshops can be extremely valuable. That said, I don’t think you can necessarily choose your teacher, and networking opportunities may or may not present themselves. Go because you need a shot in the arm, or some solid feedback, or the feeling of community. Go because you know you’ve been working on that novel for way too long and it’s time to pony up. Go because poets wear ballet flats and novelists play poker, because of conversation overheard, because you might get some writing done, because it might be fun, because a writer you admire is sitting at the next table, and because you might get lucky.

Any feedback from the summer conference world for my loyal reader?

Filed under: Writers | 39 Comments »

You Know Sometimes Words Have Two Meanings

Posted on January 26, 2010 by betsylerner

Whenever my mother expressed pride in anything we did, she would immediatly chase away the evil eye lest the wrathful gods punish our hubris. Tonight was the HBO screening of the movie based on Temple Grandin’s life. And I’ve got to say, I was busting with pride. I worked as Temple’s editor on Thinking In Pictures, and continue to serve as her agent. It was extraordinary to see her life captured so intelligently and emotionally. But it’s Temple the scientist and Temple the visual thinker who clearly captured the imagination of the writer and director, and together they found a way to portray Temple’s autism without going all Rainman or I am Sam. Instead, it’s her genius you see. It’s her genius I salute. And lucky me, I get to have breakfast with her tomorrow.

Filed under: Client, Film | 9 Comments »

You Are Everything and Everything Is You

Posted on January 24, 2010 by betsylerner

I've always wanted to be her.

I had the unique pleasure last week of telling a client that we had sold his book. He said, “I’m sure you hear this all the time, but you changed my life.” When I first became an agent and started selling books, I felt as if I were Santa, The Tooth Fairy and a Fairy Godmother all wrapped in one. It wasn’t long before I saw some of those books struggle in the marketplace and sometimes sink without a trace, the writers filled with despair. Even those who succeeded including some bestsellers didn’t necessarily thrive in the wake of their success. In fact, some were entirely crippled by it. (I know, I know.) I went from being Tinkerbelle to an ER nurse.

I too thought publishing a book would change my life, that I would cross over into some magic kingdom, that pounds would shed. I was prey to the same magical thinking and I worked in publishing, saw the shit hit the fan every day. I also thought that I would change my life; I had always promised myself that if I made x amount of money from writing, I would quit the day job and write full time. Didn’t happen. Couldn’t walk away from a career I had built for so long, didn’t have the confidence I would be productive. So, here’s how I look at it now: publishing a book doesn’t change your life so much as creates opportunity. Then it’s up to you.

Did publishing a book change anyone’s life? Good, bad, snuggly?

Filed under: Agent, Client | 15 Comments »

The Best Things In Life Are Free

Posted on January 21, 2010 by betsylerner

Dear Betsy:

Happy new year!

Your suggestions to read Susan Rabiner’s book and to put pen to paper on my
book proposal were both so helpful that I’m hoping you might be willing to
provide more sage advice.

I submitted a proposal to a (Major Trade) Publisher and have recently received a
call from their Editorial Director…. offering me a “competitive” contract
around the end of January.

I’m wondering what you would recommend to me at this point. If all goes
well, I have already secured a publisher and don’t know if I should seek an
agent’s representation. It seems to me that a large part of an agent’s job
is to secure a publisher (?). However, I will need someone to aid me in
negotiating the contract and don’t know if this is something best left to an
agent, or if a lawyer would be sufficient. To be candid, I don’t want to give up 15-20% of my earnings if I
have already done much of the heavy lifting. I also do not want to shoot myself in the foot by not taking my first book contract very seriously. Any thoughts???

Dear Reader: Congratulations on the offer! You ask a common question: Do I need an agent now that I have an offer? No, there are excellent contracts consultants who will ensure you get a good contract and they work by the hour and cost less than lawyers. Done. Except for the following: an agent would have sent your book to multiple publishers and gotten the most competitive offer, your agent would negotiate the contract, run interference if you have difficulties or disputes with your editor/publisher. The agent should exploit your ancillary rights such as film, audio, serial and foreign. Your agent should be a sounding board for new ideas, help shape proposals, wipe your tears and kick your ass. He should get you, get your work, and help you get what you need. The care and feeding of writers is what agents do — of course, they come in all stripes and perform their duties differently. Is it worth 15%?

[As an aside, the chapter on proposal writing in the Rabiner book is really good. I’ve recommended to lots of writers and they always come back with results. I’d prefer to recommend my own writing book but I don’t have a chapter on the nuts and bolts of proposal writing. My chapters are about mental illness, masturbation, self-promotion and so forth.

People, help me out here: should this writer get an agent?

Filed under: Agent | 16 Comments »

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