• 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

FAQ: I Don’t Know If My Book is Fiction or Non-Fiction — Is This a Problem?

Yes, it is. For all the aesthetic and creative reasons that come to mind, but also because at the end of the day the book needs to be shelved somewhere. Maybe not on Amazon, but if you want to find your book in a bookstore, it needs to find a shelf: fiction, current events, biography and memoir, history, etc.

In  Forest for the Trees, I wrote that not knowing your genre is a little like not knowing if you’re straight or gay. I no longer know if I agree with that. For some people, it takes time to find the right genre to work in and you may be good in a couple or more.  The MFA programs tend to keep the breeds in separate kennels. And I’ve always subscribed to the idea that if you want to do something well, you need to remain intensely focussed. But look at Updike. Stories, novels, essays, poems.

I started writing poetry when I was young and miserable. I wrote two non-fiction books in my thirties. And now I write screenplays that are so spectacular it’s frightening. Okay, no one wants my screenplays, but I love the form. If only NYU hadn’t kicked me out of film school, I might’ve been in Diablo Cody’s girl writing group, the Fempire. Damn you, Diablo!

But you do have to know what you’re doing, genre-wise, so you can be in control of what you’rewriting, and well versed with the tropes and conventions within the genre.

Also, to the fair maiden who wrote in, you must have this question resolved before you approach agents and editors. Otherwise, people won’t know if you’re straight or gay.

FAQ — Writer’s Block

A few writers have asked if I have any advice for writer’s block. I may make some enemies saying this, but writer’s block is something that totally bores me. I even hate the term, writer’s block. It sounds like one of the newfangled diagnoses  such as Oppositional Disorder to pathologize an ill behaved child.  In my experience, you’re not writing because you don’t know what to write about, are afraid of exposure, have no discipline, are ambivalent about your desire/ability to write, etc. These are not small things. They are very real. But as I’ve said before, the world isn’t asking you to write; so it certainly doesn’t care if you don’t.  Don’t lament the time you don’t write.

That’s the tough love. Some ideas to get the wheels turning: therapy (obviously), pick up the old diary and pen (pushing a pen is good for the soul), try The Artist’s Way, get a Hitachi Magic Wand, join a workshop, read, walk two miles in the morning followed by lemon tea with honey, and as I’ve said before: get dressed!

FAQ: If I Want to Write, Should I Get a Publishing Job?

 N.G. asks a very good question:  if I want to be a writer should I try to get a job in publishing, or avoid the business altogether?

This is a can of worms. Lots of people who go into publishing have the desire to write. Some do. Many don’t. Would they have realized their writing ambitions had they stayed away? We’ll never know.

Also, what branch  of publishing? Clearly, editing is the closest to the writing process, but does that work sap your creative juices most? In my case, I didn’t write for the first twelve years I worked in publishing as I climbed my way up the editorial ladder. I even stopped keeping my diary. It wasn’t a conscious decision; I became completely wrapped up in my authors’ lives and work.

The time factor:  editoral work is extremely time consuming, most reading and editing is done on nights and weekends. It’s almost impossible to write. Also, if you’re struggling with your own work and what you want write, it’s “easy” to get absorbed in someone else’s work and avoid your own. I’ve seen some editors and other publishing people become competitive with their authors. This is the sure sign of a frustrated writer.

One reason to go into publishing is to make connections and see how it’s done. I would have never sold my first book had I not known agents and reviewed hundreds of non-fiction proposals to see how to put them together. 

Ultimately, I think it’s probably better to do something that leaves you more time to write. And, more important, read.  The day you step into a publishing cubicle, your life is consumed with reading a lot of sub-standard material as you comb through stacks of submissions.

When I was an assistant editor at Ballantine, my boss handed off a how-to book for me to edit. The woman barely knew how to string a sentence together. We must have gone through eight drafts and the Dingleberry still didn’t get it. In the end, all that work raised a D- manuscript to a C- book. All editors have zillions of stories like this — it comes with the territory.  But the whole time working with her I remember thinking, I will have read eight drafts of this piece of crap and go to my grave having never read War and Peace.

You know how they say you have to play tennis with someone above your level to improve? I think the same is true with writing. You could be reading slush or you could be reading Tolstoy.

 

FAQ-Are Multiple Submissions Kosher?

N.P. from the great state of Long Island asks if it’s okay to make multiple submissions when you are querying agents.

In a word: yes.

Do you have to tell the agents?

In a word: not really. Some writers will divulge that the project is with others. I see this as a courtesy, not a necessity.

What if two or more of the agents are interested? Happy days are here again. At that point you really must inform all of the agents that you have interest. This will accelerate the process, and if possible you should try to meet the interested parties in order to make an informed decision.

Don’t some agents require exclusivity? Sure.

Do I have to honor that? Sort of, but I wouldn’t wait for 4-8 weeks for someone to get back to me. Agents submit almost all of their projects to publishers on multiple submission for a reason. I think writers should enjoy the same benefits: it’s in the interest of time, and could potentially create a competitive situation.

How many agents should a writer go to at one time: I think the magic number is six. If everyone passes, it’s a useful pool from which to draw information. i.e. if you receive all form letters, go back to the drawing board. Close calls mean some tweaking is called for. Invitations to send the material, or see more material, this is a bullseye. Your query letter did the trick. Now, of course, the material has to hold up.

Did I leave anything out? Please ask or let me know where you stand with multiple submissions or your experience with them.

FAQ: How Long Has This Been Going On?

One of my devoted readers writes:

“I have an agent, but I don’t want to seem like a pest.  Can you say something about how long it takes (on average) for publishers to make a decision once they have requested a book proposal?  I realize there’s no pat answer–I’m just trying to get a feel for how the process works.”

Dear Devoted:

If  your project is submitted by a reputable agent, you should get a response within three to four weeks. There are always exceptions. Books can be pre-empted overnight. They can be bought within days.  Sometimes the process can drag on for a month or more, especially if your agent is staggering your submission. Long novels can take more time than non-fiction proposals, though The Historian was snapped up overnight.

Many agree that it’s all about the juice, your agent’s and the project’s.  But there are also  stories of bestsellers coming from unlikely sources. Dan Brown’s agent is best known for representing Drawing on the Left Side of the Brain (or is it the right?) and books about psychology and women’s issues. She is one of the loveliest agents in the business, but not someone you’d necessarily expect to see a thriller from.  I wonder which side of the brain is used for counting dollars.

Bottom line, why are you afraid of appearing like a pest to your agent? He or she is working on your behalf. He or she should walk you through the process and answer these questions. And keep you apprised of rejections as they come in, possibly set up meetings for you with interested parties, and generally keep you informed of the submission process.

The Rules of Engagement

J. sent a query letter to ten agents. One invited her to send the proposal. Now it’s been six weeks and she hasn’t heard a word. Should she write to the agent? What is the right amount of time?

A few things to consider:

  • If you don’t have any leverage, you don’t have any leverage.
  • It’s very easy to get yourself branded as a pest or a pain in the ass. Every publisher I ever worked for would quickly chalk up an author as a nuisance if he asked for too much or too loudly. Unless, or should I say until, you’re a bestselling author you want to be working your charm over your indignation.
  • People have a lot on their reading plates. Unless you have something with obvious commercial appeal or prestige written all over it, your submission will likely languish on the bottom of the pile.
  • That said, send a polite note 3-4 weeks after you’ve sent the proposal. It was requested after all.

FAQ: Hard Copy or Email?

L.K. asks: is it better to send your query to an agent in hard copy or in an email.

Up until a year or two ago, I would have said hard copy. But something has tipped and the letter with the sadly folded SASE seems a little antiquated. I think most agents will agree: send email queries.

The real question is who reads the letters and/or the emails. The agent herself or an assistant or an intern? Unless you were referred by an established writer or client of the agent, the chances are an assistant or intern will screen your letter. I actually read all my mail for two reasons:

1) At sleepaway camp we had a job wheel and every day you were assigned a task such as clothesline or toilet or sweep. But the best job was being the camper designated, after lunch, to get the mail and snacks. I can not tell you how much I loved getting the mail, handing the letters out to my bunkmates, and savoring the letters I received. Somehow, every day when I open my mail at work, I always remember that feeling. Totally queer,  I know.

2) I don’t trust anyone to know what I like.

How do you get your material read or an invitation to send more? BTW, attach the first chapter or fifty pages. Just do it. If the agent is interested in your letter, it will save a step to have the pages attached. Next, do everything you can to make your query appealing before you send it. How? Well, depending on what it is:

  • get some of the work published before you submit it to an agent. This is extremely helpful, especially if it’s in a well known or highly regarded outlet such as Slate or a national magazine.
  • develop a popular blog like Julie & Julia or Dooce
  • give lectures, speaking engagements, workshops, build a following
  • any media attention will be a huge help
  • win a prize (enter writing contents)

It used to be that the book kicked off all these things, but in today’s very tough climate, publishers want authors who already come with a platform. If  you build your platform and present yourself credibly and professionally in your query letter along with having a great idea (and a great title that in and of itself is a hook), you will probably get responses.

People sometimes like to speculate about whether there are masterpieces out there not getting published because of the system. I’m not one of them.

FAQ – Should I Get an MFA

Two young people (did I actually say “young people”?) asked my opinion recently about whether or not to get an MFA. This is a tough one. It really depends on two things: where you are in your writing life and if you can afford it. You do have to ask yourself the tough questions: would I rather have an MFA from Columbia or a Jaguar XF?

There are great programs out there, and taking two years to devote to writing and reading can be a formative time. Unless you are a stone cold idiot, you will come out a better writer than when you went in. Or, like me, find out that you’re a good editor, or teacher. Really fun is the community of writers with their orgiastic jealousies. Be prepared, know yourself, try not to cave to the style of the day.

Then there’s the faculty. I would definitely check that out before you write a check. I had the great good fortune of studying with Richard Howard, Denis Johnson (fuck me dead) Bill Matthews, Pamela White Hadas (my brilliant mentor), with Dan Halpern, Tom Lux, and for visiting writers we had Margaret Atwood, Harold Brodkey, Coleslaw Milosz (as we fondley referred to him), and others. That was all worth it. That was fantastic. As was finding my bff and best reader, the poet Jean Monhan.

Whoa, sorry for that little side trip down memory lane. I think getting an MFA can be very valuable, but you want to be in the right place for you and you don’t want to go bankrupt. Being a writer will take care of that soon enough. If you go, focus on your craft, read your eyes out, listen most to your critics, and try not to have a crack-up.

Would love to hear what other MFA survivors have to say, as well as those who avoided it altogether.