• Forest for the Trees
  • THE FOREST FOR THE TREES is about writing, publishing and what makes writers tick. This blog is dedicated to the self loathing that afflicts most writers. A community of like-minded malcontents gather here. I post less frequently now, but hopefully with as much vitriol. Please join in! Gluttons for punishment can scroll through the archives.

    If I’ve learned one thing about writers, it’s this: we really are all alone. Thanks for reading. Love, Betsy

Find Out What It Means to Me

If you have a chance, check out this interview in Poets & Writers with Jon Karp, publisher of Twelve, an imprint at Hachette. It is a measure of how much I respect him and admire him that I recommend the interview because, well, look at how he answers the question regarding which agents he admires:

There are a lot of agents that I admire—too many to name. It’s funny. I really enjoy working with literary agents, but I’m not socially friendly with any of them. I kind of feel like it’s a business relationship. But I enjoy their companionship at lunch and I love talking to them about their projects. Even when I pass on their projects, I genuinely enjoy talking to them, the give and take. There are literary agents who I’ve known for fifteen years who I’m just finally doing books with. Molly Friedrich was one who I’d wanted to work with forever and finally found a novel we both loved. I’ve known Stuart Krichevsky since I was in my late twenties, and he’s trusted me with Sebastian Junger, for which I am eternally grateful. Rob Weisbach is incredibly creative and he’s going to do great things. I could talk to Tina Bennett and Heather Schroder forever. There really are a lot.

Jon, it’s okay. I’m not, like, needy. I know I’m special. That we have a connection. It’s real. I feel it. You don’t have to advertise when something is real. Congrats on the great interview. It should be required reading for every writer who wants a  window into the mind of a publisher who has had tremendous success and a very smart take on the industry. Does he even remember the time we had bagels at his apartment when we had a lunch date and he had to wait for Comcast? Does he?

Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me (reprise)

On September 1, I posted a question from a writer who had interest from an agent,  had a few other agents request his manuscript (but still hadn’t heard back), and some outstanding queries with agents who hadn’t answered at all. I recommended he let everyone know that he had interest. This was the moment when he had some leverage, and that there’s nothing like competition to quicken an agent’s pulse. I also asked him to let me know how he made out. Check this out:

Betsy asked me to check back in to say how I made out. I applied The Betsy Lerner School of Leverage technique to my outstanding queries and received seven additional requests for the manuscript. In the end I had five offers of representation and both my number one and number two choices offered. Applying pressure obviously worked out but I had to persevere as the rejections piled in. For a while I thought I’d end up unrepresented but then four offers poured in one on top of the other, the last being from my number one choice who’d had the manuscript for two and a half months.

Nation, if you enroll in The Betsy Lerner School of Leverage TODAY, you will receive a crash course ABSOLUTELY FREE in The Betsy Lerner School of  Self Loathing AND The Betsy Lerner School of Hair. ENROLL NOW!!

And, Mr. Bigshot, congrats. Nicely done.

The One That Got Away

When the venerable editor and publisher Robert Giroux died last year, his NYT obituary listed some of the illustrious writers he worked with  including Flannery O’Connor, Robert Lowell, Bernard Malamud, Jack Kerouac and Susan Sontag. Equally interesting to me were stories about the ones who got away.  One of these writers brought in his manuscript on teletype paper pasted together into a roll of 120 feet long and demanded that no changes be made. Giroux would not agree and Kerouac walked out, On the Road with him. Giroux had also courted a new short story writer whose work had appeared in The New Yorker. When it came time to offer on his first novel, the brass at his company said it wasn’t right for them: adios Catcher in the Rye.

With this is mind, I surveyed some of New York’s top editors asking if they would divulge which books got away, either because they didn’t recognize their value (either commercial or literary) when they saw it, or because the deciders said nay. Friends, the results:

“My saddest loss was the three day auction of the Steig Larsson trilogy which I was sure I was about to land,” writes one editor. He goes on to say they lost the book to Sonny (that’s Sonny Mehta, publisher of Knopf, and known pistachio nosher). “If you’re going to lose it might as well be Sonny.”

NOTE: Everywhere I’ve ever worked, there was no publishing house people would rather lose to or win from more than Knopf. I worked for a publisher who actually defaced a jacket with a ball point pen because she was so frustrated with the art director. “Well, what do you want?” the art director screamed back.  “I want Knopf jackets!” the publisher yelled. “Can you make a Knopf jacket?”

Then there’s the so-called  beauty contest, that is when two publishers make the same bid and the author chooses the publisher/editor she prefers. One editor writes in, “I wish I had acquired The Physick Book of Deliverace Dane. Our offer was identical to the acquiring publisher, but the author went with the other house. ” That’s always a great feeling, like standing in line at your camp social, or for that matter sitting on a bar stool at 3:00 a.m., and not getting picked, not that that’s ever happened to me.

“I passed on Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld.” another editor shares. Years later she approached Sittenfeld for a blurb on a debut novel and praised Prep in the letter. Sittenfeld wrote back saying she’d be glad to read the novel, but did the editor remember that she had turned down Prep?  Ouch. P.S. She never got the endorsement.

Another editor is still smarting over her boss’ refusal to let her bid on Kevyn Aucoin’s Making Faces. (What’s with that spelling of  Kevin??) The book immediately hit the list  and the editor shares how she relished the “oh-so-immature-yet satisfying feeling of I-told-you-so.”  (Disappointing, but not exactly Holden Caulfield.)

Another editor admitted that she cried over losing  The Angel’s Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. And also regrets not getting a shot at Edgar Sawtelle and Olive Kittredge. (Note to self:  post a list of novels that are titled with the character’s name? Have a contest? Too nerdy?)

Another editor confessed: “I turned down Guernsey even though I thought it was a very commercial idea because it was stiffly told. Of course then it was rewritten and the rest is history.” And another, “I passed on Shopaholic because I had a current bestseller and thought I didn’t need another one. Ha.” (Funny, no matter what I have, I always want another.)

In the If-You-Don’t-Have’Anything-Nice-To-Say-Don’t-Say-Anything-At-All department, one editor addmitted to having passed on Cold Mountain. But she didn’t just decline, “I airily declared to the agent that I grew  up on a Civil War battlefield and that if I didn’t believe it, noone would.” Thanks for sharing.

And then there’s the horse. Everyone wished they had published The Biscuit.  For two years, all editors said when asked what kind of books they want to publish was Seabiscuit. One editor wrote in to say that she offered, “Except, I told the agent is was worth $50,000.” What are the odds that the book would’ve wound up on the NYT Bestseller list for 23 weeks? And be made into a feature film starring the incredibly sexy Jeff Bridges and be nominated for an Oscar?

And last, our annual “The One That Got Away Award” goes to the editor who claimed he “turned down James Patterson’s first novel Along Came a Spider because it was so poorly, sketchily written even though it was pacey, as the Brits say. MISTAKE!” Hey, you don’t get the prize for nothing.

Full disclosure: When I was an editor, I turned down The Liar’s Club. I just didn’t believe her.

HOT FLASH, er, News Flash

Naomi Wolf to Write History of the Vagina

By Leon Neyfakh
The New York Observer
Sptember 8, 2009 | 4:21 p.m

 Naomi Wolf is going back to her roots. The journalist and author, who has seemingly been on a break for the past couple of years from writing books on the kinds of feminist themes that made her famous in the early 1990s, has signed on with the Ecco Press for a project tentatively titled A Cultural History of the Vagina.

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Remember yesterday we were talking about titles. Nation, I want to be in the jacket meeting for this one. I have a lot to contribute! First, please, dear god, don’t call it A Cultural History of the Vag.  This is just a bad idea. Don’t use the word Vagina, Vag, or V. Isn’t that a novel by Pynchon anyway.  Here are my “ideas.” Number one choice: Cunt! It’s a classic, classy, and as I’ve always found, fun to say.  Next, to take a page from Courtney Love’s playbook, Hole. Or Philip Roth’s Slit. Poontang is too southern, I think. This is when I really miss being an editor, you know, mixing it up in the jacket meetings.

At the last publishing house I worked for, we were in a jacket meeting and the publisher said he wanted something like “fuck me” pumps for the image. Then he pointed to my Doc Marten’s and said, not like those. Right, I said, these are “fuck you” pumps. Friends, my days were numbered.  

 

You Are So Beautiful To Me

I did two very close line edits over the last few weeks, a novel and a memoir. They were both quite brilliant in their own right and as a result the editing was a pure joy. There were many books I’ve had to work on over the years where the prose was less than stellar. I used to compare editing those books to correcting papers, catching the same predictable mistakes over and over again.

 

 

When you have the chance to edit something you believe to be brilliant, the pencil comes alive in your hand. You engage in a dialogue in the margins of the page that becomes an intricate and intimate dance. You feel smarter, you may actually be smarter, because you are inspired. And because you don’t have to worry about big things, your attention is more finely tuned and with each suggestion, even as small as a word change,  you see the thing more fully realized, elevated, nailed. 

There is nothing more satisfying than fine tuning.

Well, a few exceptions come to mind, but this is not an x-rated blog.

Postpartum

Almost every I writer I know goes through some form of postpartum after finishing a book. For some it’s more pronounced than others. It depends on different factors: how long you’ve worked on the book, how passionate you were about it, how much of  a toll it exacted from your life. Some writers already know what the next book is and that makes it a little easier. Others have no idea what or if they’ll ever write again. That makes it a little harder.

When I was an editor, one of my first authors sent a birth announcement along with her first book. It read:  It’s a Girl. Weight: 2 pounds, 1 ounce. Length: 8 1/2 inches.

 A writer I’ve been working with for over a decade turned in her book today. She burst into tears. We were both exhasuted having worked intensely for three days.  She referred to me as a mid-wife at one point, and I bridled at the label, imagining myself in a bandana and highwaisted jeans and Crocs.  But it was accurate. I did everything but ice chips. I’m not saying a book is a baby, but it is your baby and there’s no way you can push one out and not, at the very least, have some kind of postpartum mood swing. Equilibrium will return, usually just in time for the agony of actually being published.

While U Were Out

A lot of really nice things happened while I was away. Makes you wonder if it’s sometimes better to clear out instead of  trying to make things happen. On the other hand, that’s my job description.

Goat Song went into a fourth printing after a rapturous NPR. Dreaming in Hindi gets a UK offer. Columbine sells in Japan. Down the Nile makes the BOGO promotion at Borders (that’s Buy One Get One Free). I made a sale the day I left (top secret for now). And I took on a new client three days into  the trip and one day before I defended my mini-golf championship.

I think I mentioned that I didn’t get to pleasure read on vacation. I did slip in some magazines. My client Hamilton Cain has a wonderful piece in this month’s Men’s Health. The sex tips, however, are neither interesting nor useful. James Ellroy has an article from an old issue of Playboy about his obsession with women. Worth reading. Nicholson Baker’s article in the New Yorker about the Kindle (did you hear that? the sound of me supressing a yawn). And much loved is a poem by CK Williams in the 8/3/09 NewYorker called “Dust.”

You Were Always Waiting For This Moment To Arrive

Spent the last two days going over page proofs with a writer. One of my favorite moments in the publishing process is when you see the manuscript transformed into typeset pages. I’ve always had great respect for book designers and all the decisions that go into making a page.

Today our work centered on space breaks. Her book employs three kinds. The small break that changes the subject within the same time frame. The medium break that generally indicates a jump in time. And the large space within the chapter that signals a new time and place, perhaps a new authorial tone as well.

Toward the end of our session, my client apologized for taking up so much time on space breaks. How dare you, I said, demean the space break. What did a a space break ever do to you? If this were a musical, I would now sing out about the value of space breaks.

Suffice to say, and perhaps I say this coming from a poetry background, space breaks are sacrosanct. They offer a rest, a breather, a game changer, a scene change, a time change, a change in pov, tone, or tense. A space break gives the writer an opportunity to take a left where he might have taken a right, add paprika, turn up the heat, or lower the lights. A poet knows that what comes between stanzas is an essential tool in making a poem kill it. Your space breaks as a prose writer are second only to chapter breaks.

This post sings of the so called blank spaces.  This post also had too much sauvignon blanc at dinner.

MAD LIB

(Proper Name) ought to be an easy person to (Verb). He is (adjective), (adjective), (adjective), and ridiculously well connected. His father is (Proper Name), the editor of (National Magazine), and he grew up in the kind of gilded New York (noun) where Joan Didion, Jay McInerney and George Plimpton were drop-in guests. His godfather is Morgan Entrekin, the publisher of Grove/Atlantic, who bought (Proper Name’s)  first novel, “(Book Title)” when (Proper Name)  was just (Age).  Hunter S. Thompson, another family friend, came through with a timely blurb, saying, “I’m afraid he will do for his (Noun) what I did for mine.”

Photo: Michael Nagle
 
If that weren’t insufferable enough, (Proper Name), now 25, has a third novel, “An Expensive Education,” being published on Wednesday by Atlantic Monthly, and “,” meanwhile, is being made into a (Noun) starring Kiefer Sutherland, Chace Crawford and (Your Favorite Rap Artist).
*Copy supplied by Charles McGrath/NYT/8/3/09

Everybody Hurts (reprise)

 A  reader asks, “Is it worth it — working so hard and long on a book to see it barely sell and get ignored by the media?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 A writer friend compared publishing a book to bringing a bucket of water down to the sea. I feel this way on many days when a client’s books doesn’t  “perform in the marketplace.” And sometimes I think I’ve dried enough tears to fill an ocean.

Is it worth it? I wish I could yes, but all fruits bruise in their own way.

Spike Lee once said, after getting trashed by the critics, that that was the price for getting in the game. And then to quote a literary light and personal hero, Derek Jeter, who once said when the team was on a losing streak, “It makes you sick. How else can it make you feel. If doesn’t make you sick, you shouldn’t be competing.”

These words I took to heart when I started selling books, and eventually when I wrote my own.  And to this day, I’m glad to be in the game and it makes me sick.

And since you put it that way, is anything worth it?