Posted on January 5, 2011 by betsylerner
Whenever assistants ask me what to look for in manuscripts, I always say page turners or prize winners. There is an assumption in my directive that the two are mutually exclusive. That’s a big topic which I’m not prepared to get into while watching The People’s Choice Awards.
What I’d love to find out is which you would rather have, assuming you could only have one, a big prize or a bestseller? Literary acclaim or ca-ching? Reputation or readers? Apples or oranges?
Filed under: Bestseller, Fame! Celebrity! Riches! | 56 Comments »
Posted on January 4, 2011 by betsylerner
Are you the kind of person who automatically points out a flaw once you’ve been given a compliment. For instance, a co-worker says, “I like your skirt,” and you respond by pointing out a tear or a stain. Or maybe you say you got it for a few bucks at a tag sale or on sale at Marshall’s. In that spirit, I feel like posting the two worst Amazon reviews for the Forest for the Trees. At first, I was mortifried when this sort of thing turned up. Now, I like to rub my body with it.
By A Customer
‘The Forest for the Trees’ was a waste of time and money; any writer would be better off investing in ‘Bird by Bird’ by Anne Lamott. She, unlike Ms. Lerner, is funny, helpful and offers far more than obvious advice. My desk was complete with a dictionary, ‘The Elements of Style’, and ‘Bird by Bird’; ‘The Forest for the Trees’ was an unworth addition.
By A Customer
I am writer so I thought I would pick this book up. At first glance it seemed to have some important information and a positive slant, but further examination proved otherwise. Sadly, Ms Lerner goes out of her way to say critical remarks about authors that I found personally offensive. For example: “Writers love to worry. By their very nature they are neurotic.” And if this isn’t enough another blast, one out of many I might add, comes later on: “The only place you’re likey to find more alcoholics than an AA meeting is in a writing program.” She consistently uses a broad brush in painting authors as having pychological problems and being indecisive and makes no aplogies for these harsh generalizations. It seems to me that the author goes out of her way to insult her audience and the people who have provided her a living for many years. After all, Ms. Lerner states that authors create and editors just provide energy, but does that energy have to be negative?
Tell, tell, what was the worst review you’ve ever received and how did you take it?
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Filed under: Uncategorized | 95 Comments »
Posted on January 3, 2011 by betsylerner
I’ve been working on this motherfucking screenplay all vacation. The elaborate outline bears little resemblance to what I’m doing. Yes, I’m going rogue, veering from the well-plotted piece of shit outline that seemed so brilliant five months ago when I first wrote it. Does this ever happen to you? You walk away for a day which becomes a week which becomes a month which becomes half a year. Why do I always get the runs when I write? It isn’t that exciting. I never stopped thinking about these characters. The idea is that each one has a secret of some kind and that secret deforms them in some way. But I’m not an idea based writer. I come to everything through character. What I learned from the big deal producer who toyed with my first script like a cat with a dead mouse is that character is not best revealed through dialogue. Characters have to act. So what I’m trying to do now is scrutinize every scene, to make sure it has some inherent action, or moves the story forward.
How do you scrutinize your own work. How do you pound the shit out of it?
Filed under: Uncategorized | 41 Comments »
Posted on January 2, 2011 by betsylerner
I wasn’t particularly nice this year, but I got a Mac Air computer. Fuck me dead! I didn’t even ask for one, I didn’t dream of one. I made my choice of a desktop and I lie in it. Okay, nobody in this house liked it when I borrowed their lap top so I could post and watch In Treatment at the same time. I mean, I get it, a computer is sort of like a toothbrush. You really don’t want anyone else sticking it in their mouth.
You know those Loreal ads that say, hey, lady, you’re worth it. I was always like, fuck you I’m not worth it, I’m not worth the box it comes in. I haven’t even opened my sleek new machine. I can’t. It’s too perfect. My fingers are too stubby to type with, God. Imagine it: me posting from the local cafe, Deja Brew. Or at Blue State among the freshman and grad students. That will be me, posting from the Blue Trail on a moss covered rock. Or in my car, parked at a dead end weeping. I can write on my commuter train! On planes! On the back of my Palomino. I am one lucky son of a bitch. Thank you daughter (it was her idea). Thank you husband (it was his credit card).
Isn’t receiving better than giving?
Filed under: Uncategorized | 68 Comments »
Posted on December 23, 2010 by betsylerner
I used to crack the office window and smoke into the cold morning. Across the way a water tower. A woman moving inside a building — easy to imagine her more beautiful than I. The stone ledge smudged from so many mornings. It was the part of a lifetime. Do you miss me? Did I doze? Can you hear me skidding? Someone took the stones from my father’s grave. Who am I talking to? The end of the year means nothing, but visits upon me a strange feeling. Long ago, I resolved not to make any resolutions except to distrust people completely. Ha! Will I always be nine years old with my bangs cut unevenly across my forehead? Is there more faith in the world than in a plastic barrette plastered to the head of girl ready for greatness, poised for destruction.
I miss Jim, raconteur extraordinaire. Ralph is gone, our loyal friend. Lucy died this time of year. Then Tracy. Then Liz. Some are dead and some are living. My grandmother said you are the captain of your own ship. You are the captain of your own ship. Oh, I am nostalgic. To all my beautiful writers and the books you brought into the world, for little or much. To everyone who opened a book and turned her beautiful pages. I love all of you who leave comments here, magnificent breadcrumbs on a lonely trail. Thank you for reading, lurkers too. Have a happy and healthy new year, or in lieu of that: WRITE YOUR ASS OFF. Love, Betsy
p.s. I’ll be back Monday, January 3.
Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It | 36 Comments »
Posted on December 22, 2010 by betsylerner
Voted most likely not to keep 2011 resolutions!
I’m patently against making resolutions. I stopped making them in 1997. Resolutions are promises you can’t keep. Resolutions are looking at yourself on January 5, 17, or 29 and being utterly disgusted. That’s me in the red flannel nightgown with 19 unfinished books next to my bed, with Mt. Etna on my chin, with a half-written screenplay and more love around my mid-section. Resolutions are for people who believe in fairies and happy endings.
Oh, I thought about restricting Blackberry use. For the new year I won’t use my Blackberry on the train, on the weekend, on the toilet. How’s that for positive change. I thought about cutting out sugar and white flour. HA HA HA. I thought about self love. HA HA HA. I thought about making my bed, remembering my dry cleaning ticket, moisturizing. Yes, folks, there’s a lot of positive change out there; it’s there for the taking. But here, at Betsylerner.com, it’s all about being stubbornly determined to stay the same or get worse.
So, please, without further adieu (resolve to stop using words like adieu), tell me what you’re not going to change or accomplish this year.
Filed under: Uncategorized | 40 Comments »
Posted on December 22, 2010 by betsylerner
Well, this incredible year is winding down. I felt like quitting publishing in March after I crashed and burned so badly on a project that I no longer trusted myself. And that, whether you are an agent, editor, publisher, or writer, is the worst. We’re all clomping around in the forest as far as I can tell, but when you realize you’ve lost your compass, well you’re fucked. All you really have is your taste, your belief, your instinct, your gut. Separate yourself from these for a moment and you are a goner. Nobody really knows what’s going to work, but believing in something and having the insanity of your convictions is crucial to any success. If you build it they will come, and all that. But of course, here in bookland, if you build it they can also ignore it, savage it, remainder it, and pulp it.
The year for me ended on an incredible high with lots of sales and, of course, Patti’s win. It’s cyclical this business. It loves to fuck with you. I can’t believe I’ve been doing it for 25 years. This from a girl who couldn’t get a publishing job in 1982 when she failed every typing test at every major publisher. I’ve never said this before and I may not say it again: I feel lucky.
What’s it like when you lose your way?
Filed under: Uncategorized | 41 Comments »
Posted on December 20, 2010 by betsylerner
My older sister read my script over the weekend and noted that she didn’t like one of the character’s names. When I asked her why, she shrugged, “I don’t know.” It was meant to be a funny name, or comic name. It rhymed with looney. It clearly wasn’t working. How is it that sometimes a name seems just right, perfect, beyond question? Other times, they ring wrong. Sometimes it seems as if the right name can set the stage, open doors, lead the charge. King Lear. Jo March. Augie March. Boo Radley. Newland Archer. Dick Diver. Nathan Zuckerman. Hanibal Lecter. Herbert Pocket. Victor Frankenstein. Elizabeth Bennett. Esther Greenwood. Daisy Buchanan. The World According to Garp. Garp? What makes a name memorable? Is your name your destiny? Scout. Pip. Jude the Obscure. Where do you find your names? What’s in a name? I think, for me, Charles Dickens is the author to beat for great names.
Yesterday, I was in a museum and I saw a portrait of a society lady by John Singer Sargent and I thought the name of the woman would be a terrific character: Louise Inches. What are some of your favorite character names, or if you’re really brave, fly one of your own up the flagpole and see if it waves.
Filed under: Writers | 84 Comments »
Posted on December 19, 2010 by betsylerner
Hi Betsy,
My name is XXX, and I am reading and enjoying FOREST FOR THE TREES. I was surprised to find that you referred to the link between psoriasis and writing a few times in your book, especially in relation to John Updike’s reflection on the subject. I was just wondering if you or loved ones you know suffer from it, or what compelled you to include it in your book? I am a psoriasis sufferer and a writer, and I’ve never before seen a reference to them in one place.
Sinerely, NAME WITHHELD
Dear Itchy:
Thank you for your letter. Updike’s piece about his psoriasis was a revelation to me. I had written a poem called “My Life as A Rash,” in graduate school. While I only briefly suffered from psoriasis’ ugly cousin exzema, I had the very strong suspicion that rashes were a big problem for writers. And after I started working with writers (first as an editor and later an agent), I saw that most writers enjoyed a wide array of physical symptoms (both real and somewhat hypochondriacal). Skin eruptions were only one manifestation of a writer’s agony, though a particularly cruel and uncomfortable one given the “thin skin” and necessary sensitivity of the writer. I’ve seen a lot of self-mutilation over the years, fingers that looked like bloody stumps. I’ve seen faces picked over, hair pulled out, massive weight gain and loss, teeth grinding, migraines, back problems, OCD, agoraphobia, and insomnia. Show me a writer and I’ll show your someone who suffers either secretly or like John Updike, leaving flakes of skin in his wake.
Anyone care to share their symptoms? The weirder the better.
Filed under: neurosis, Writers | 61 Comments »
Posted on December 16, 2010 by betsylerner
Sold my last book of 2011 today. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa. I know many of you hate agents out there and I get it. I hated most agents when I was an editor. Taking them to lunch so they could shit on your face, if you feel me. I once took an agent out to lunch who looked at the menu and said, “If I have one more cobb salad, I’m going to kill myself.” Another pulled a bill away as I was figuring out the tip and said, “Gimme that, I know 15% of anything.”
But you didn’t ask me about agent lunches. You didn’t ask about anything. I’m not proud of it, but I am an agent. I’m proud of the job I do for my clients, but being a professional sleaze bag is a drag. You know the one about the guy who comes home to discover that his wife and children have been raped and murdered, and his house has been burned down. The cop explains that his agent had come to his house. The guy gets all excited, really, he says, my agent came to my house.
Just for fun tonight, just because I think a little pre-holiday raging is called for, I wonder if you would share your worst agent story and no need to mention names (especially if it’s me).
Filed under: Uncategorized | 137 Comments »
Betsy Lerner 