Betsy Lerner

Let’s Admit We Made a Mistake, But Can’t We Still Be Friends?

Posted on March 15, 2010 by betsylerner

Breaking up with clients, getting broken up with, none of it is easy. Egos wounded, hearts broken, tongues wagging, reputations flagging. Even when someone you hate fires you, it stings. Not that I would know. Even when you fire someone, you feel fucking awful. Especially when their next book goes on to sell for millions. But awful, too, if they don’t find a new agent. If they are, in publishing terms, homeless. Most people are pretty bad at parting company, even if both acknowledge that it’s better this way. Even if the writer desperately needs to be seen in a new light. Or if the agent no longer knows how to advance his or her career. Where are the boundaries?

Where are the boundaries after you’ve worked on five books with a writer, went to his mother’s funeral, lent him money for rehab, emailed every day during a six month depression, how do you say: it’s just business when it’s no longer working?

Is this messy business of writing and passion and rejection and ego and wit and fear and posturing and hoping and bluffing and talent and belief and love — is it ever “just business?”

Tell me, what is just business?

Filed under: Agent, Authors | 24 Comments »

If You Liked It Then You Shoulda Put a Ring On It

Posted on March 14, 2010 by betsylerner

Dear Betsy,

I was fortunate to have a friend recommend me to her agent. Said agent is on my A-list. A-list agent and I exchanged pleasantries via email, and she invited me to send my manuscript, which had won two substantial novel-in-progress awards in 2009. In October 2009, I mailed the ms. Soon after that, I received an extremely generous critique from another agent who loved the work but felt she couldn’t take it on “at this time.” With that agent’s suggestions in mind, I did a substantial revision and feel that the novel is much improved. Of course, I will ask agent #2 if I can resubmit to her. Meanwhile, I haven’t heard back from A-list agent. It’s been four months. I would love to send her my revision, but I don’t want to annoy her. It is possible that she hasn’t seen my original version. What is the protocol? Ask if she’ll accept a revision? Wait for her to respond to the ms I already sent?

Thank you for any suggestions. I love your blog.

“Wife Number Three”

Dear Three:

This is classic. Classic! Though a little confusing. Usually when an agent says she can’t take on something “at this time” it means NEVER. It means not now, not ever, which spells never. “At this time” is like a guy who doesn’t call back after you fuck him. If he doesn’t call the next day or the day after, will he ever call back? Highly fucking unlikely. Maybe a few months later in the middle of the night when he’s drunk. Maybe. That said, this little minx gave you substantial notes. You don’t give substantial notes unless you would like another role in the hay. So, sure, send it again.

A-list agent has not read your book. No agent reads a manuscript, wants to take it on, and sits on it. A-list agent may have started it, didn’t get into it, put it aside, knew she should give it more time because of the friend connection, but as time passed it became increasingly difficult to revisit . Why? Think of all the books you’ve started, left on your side table, mean to get back to…same thing. Send her the revision. If she hasn’t read, good. If scenario two is to blame, then this gives her a fresh start.

It’s so hard to apply common sense where your writing is concerned. Every action or inaction feels loaded. You can scrutinize this shit to death. It just took me a month to send my screenplay out to someone who INVITED me to send it. I’m no different when it comes to sending out work. I’d rather chew off my arm.

Any missing limbs out there?

Filed under: Agent, FAQ, Protocol | 8 Comments »

I’m Singing In the Rain

Posted on March 11, 2010 by betsylerner

Dear Betsy,

Honestly, how important (or not) is it for a writer to have a blog? I started one over a year ago to try and promote my work, but I decided to stop for a number of reasons, at the top of the list that I wasn’t updating it every day. I write longer pieces, and I felt that my audience (barring 37 friends) wanted shorter. I also began to feel like a hack; I don’t read blogs (except yours and those of a few foodies), I read books. I write books, and I hope they will be published. Have I squelched my chances by removing myself from the cybersphere?

Your Fan,

P.S. I also hate Facebook.

Dear To Blog or Not to Blog:

You shouldn’t blog. You tried it, like you might try sweet and sour soup, or snowboarding, or tinting your eyelashes and you determined that it wasn’t for you. It’s not a crime not to blog. It’s tempting in this rapidly changing world to think you have to cover all the bases: website, blog, facebook, tweet, and god only knows what’s coming down the pike. Some people are not temperamentally cut out for it. I think Robert Lowell would have blogged, not so Elizabeth Bishop. Walt Whitman and Alan Ginsberg would have blogged; Emily Dickinson might have tweeted. Sylvia Plath would have blogged. Anne Sexton would have been all over Facebook.

Some writers have made tremendous use of the web to promote their work. I think the best example is Chuck Palahnuik. Not that he needs my plug. His site, aka The Cult, is pretty amazing with forums, writers workshop, galleries, chat rooms and a store! If anyone wants to know what to get me for any occasion, I really like the t-shirts.

Look, it’s certainly an advantage if you have a huge presence on the web, especially if you are starting out and want to show a publisher that you have a following, a platform to use their word. Of course it is. But you can’t make yourself someone you’re not. As far as I can tell, Alice Munro, Jhumpa Lahiri, and Lorrie Moore don’t blog.

What do you think out there? How important is it to B-L-O-G?

Filed under: Media, The End of the World as We Know It | 34 Comments »

They Call Me Her

Posted on March 10, 2010 by betsylerner

Have you ever met a couple who are about to have a baby and haven’t yet picked out the name, claiming they can’t give the kid a name until they see it? You know, he may not look like a Bobby or Billy. He might be a Preston or a Chandler. Personally, I don’t get it. A newborn basically looks like Mr. Potato Head without the mustache. But whatever it is these parents think they are seeing before they brand their infant forever is akin to work of a novelist trying to name his main characters. You have to know something about your character before you can give him a name.

When I think about some of my favorite names from fiction, it’s pretty clear why they work. The names themselves hold a key to the character’s identity: Dick Diver, Augie March, Jo March, John Self, Oscar Wao, Mrs. Dalloway, Hazel Motes, Esther Greenwood, Lily Bart, Rabbit Angstrom, Nathan Zuckerman, Anna Karenina. They are memorable. How they sound, what they mean, imply, or infer. What is in a name? Everything.

How do you come up with names for your characters. What makes a name memorable? What are you favorite names?

Filed under: Books, Writing | 23 Comments »

Infinite Jest

Posted on March 9, 2010 by betsylerner

I know I was going to write about writing all week, but I have to share this link to the David Foster Wallace’s papers which were just acquired by the Harry Ransom Center of the University of Texas at Austin. I know it’s good that these papers are now part of an estimable collection, and that researchers and scholars have access to them. But if you just look at the few examples that are shown in the release, tell me if your heart doesn’t break. What can be more private, more intimate than the notes a man jots in the margins of his books, the words he circles in a dictionary? It’s strange, but I don’t have the same feeling about diaries; I think most writers hope that someday they are found and read. It’s as if they are written for an imaginary audience even if unconsciously. But there is something different about the papers — the manic marginalia, notes scrawled on every space of an inside jacket, drafts revised within an inch of their lives — this all feels too close. When a writer leaves behind a book, he has signed off on it. But the notes he leaves in the margins are a trail of brilliant crumbs. They are a living conversation. If you have moment, look through the pages the museum has displayed. I can’t think of anything more beautiful than a writer so deeply engaged in his work. I could weep.

Filed under: Authors | 8 Comments »

You Only Make a First Impression Once

Posted on March 8, 2010 by betsylerner

Ford Madox Ford

I want to do something crazy different this week. I want to talk about writing. I want to focus on a different aspect of writing every day. Tonight, I want to talk about first lines. Openers. Your first move. Is it confident, timid, arresting, digressive? Is is mysterious, challenging, indulgent, or tricky? Are you introducing a person, place or thing? Is our narrator instantly known, or shadowy. What’s the tense? Who’s speaking? Is there a hook? Is the language surprising, does it foretell the end? Here are some first lines.

From Crying of Lot 49:

Thomas Pynchon

One summer afternoon Mrs Oedipa Maas came home from a Tupperware party whose hostess had put perhaps too much kirsch in the fondue to find that she, Oedipa, had been named executor, or she supposed executrix, of the estate of one Pierce Inverarity, a California real estate mogul who had once lost two million dollars in his spare time but still had assets numerous and tangled enough to make the job of sorting it all out more than honorary.

D.H. Lawrence

From Lady Chatterley’s Lover:

Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically,

From The Good Soldier:

This is the saddest story I have ever heard.

Which opening line would you vote for and why? For me, it’s the Ford. I love the first person. I love how direct and simple it seems, while at the same time I feel a story of great complexity coming on. I like the use of present tense; it makes the sentence very immediate, though the next sentence will shift easily into past. Also, I live for sad stories. My uncle once asked me why I didn’t like happy stories and I said because I didn’t believe they were true. It’s not a world view for everyone, but it’s mine.

Filed under: Writing | 23 Comments »

The 82nd Academy Awards: I LOVE YOU MORE THAN RAINBOWS – Guest Post by Erin Hosier

Posted on March 8, 2010 by betsylerner

I went over to Betsy’s Sunday night to watch the Oscars. Her family plied me with reheated pizza, artichoke salad and birthday cake. In return I honored them with a yappy dog and this non-live blog.

OVERALL, the whole thing was appalling. I’m mostly referring to the aesthetic of the show, its alarming tackiness, the preponderance of uncomfortable moments, not to mention the horrible posture of so many of the presenters –
Kristen Stewart should be banished until she can stand up straight. But at least James Cameron didn’t win. Some random notes…

THE FASHION was a mixed bag. An orange Sarah Jessica Parker looked as if she were dressed by Barbara Streisand‘s coke dealer. Samuel L. Jackson, again with the Kangol cap. Meryl looked cool in white, and Miley Cyrus looked like Satan’s whore. (And someone needs to teach these young actresses how to speak.) Kate Winslet appeared weirdly 90’s in a silver sheath; why she would depart with McQueen is anyone’s guess. Sandra Bullock talked on the red carpet about “the journey,” but she looked perfect and Betsy defended her for leaving LA, producing her own movies, yeah, yeah. Gabourey Sidibe has personality plus and was regal in Marchesa. When Oprah feted her from the stage it was like being kissed by God. Vera Farmiga’s scarlet cream puff was a little too JonBenet for my taste; but thank God looking at Rachel McAdams is like looking in the mirror.

BEST DRESSED: Charlize Theron. J’adore Dior.

COMMERCIALS: Whoopi Goldberg‘s 10-minute shill for Poise, a product that deals with, um, “I just peed a little” female incontinence was simply unforgiveable. Fire your agent. Additionally, Cervical Cancer borrowed Breast Cancer’s ad agency for a spot aimed at making us feel unsure about our wombs, a total downer.

BEST MOMENT: Did you catch Samuel L. Jackson’s eye-roll when Mo’Nique walked off with Best Supporting? Genius!

BETSY’S KEEN OBSERVATIONS: Betsy nodded off throughout the night, claiming her early writing hours were to blame; I still wanted to check her arms. She liked “An Education” well enough even though Peter Saarsgard is creepy. She also claims to know that Jeremy Renner was a porn star. She didn’t miss Jack Nickolson. She thought the Martin/Baldwin co-hosting “worked.” She is basically in love with gentle giant Katherine Bigelow. She thought Jeff Bridges seemed pretty high. (Hhe reminds me of Bill Roorbach. Actually, Betsy thought most of the actors were stoned. She would know. Oh, ots of Jewish jokes, which Betsy laughed at too hard. I have to admit I didn’t get half the jokes in A Serious Man; do you have to be Jewish?

AND THE WINNER IS: Nobody doesn’t like Sandra Bullock. Holy Veronica Lake, not bad for 45, but I was hoping for an upset in this category.

I’m kind of glad “Up in the Air “got shut out. Clooney’s okay but Vera Farmiga‘s character was all wrong. I love that actress but she was forced to wear satin blouses from 1992 and the big reveal in their relationship is one of cinema’s unlikeliest fantasies. Anna Kendrick reminds me of the most uptight editorial assistant ever to pinch her size 8 foot into a corporate heel from Talbot’s.

Good for you, Kathryn Bigelow. “The Hurt Locker” was pretty good. Sorry everyone is being sued now by the real-life dude whose story it is.

Crazy Heart: the feel good alcoholic story of the year. Am I alone in my disappointment with that one? Spoiler alert: nothing happens. Jeff Bridges still manages to look cool even when he’s fat and dry heaving. I guess he’s broke or something? The journalist gal with the C-section scar falls for him, but then he loses her kid at a bar and goes to rehab and learns his lesson. My favorite scene is when he’s in the ‘hab and hanging out in the gazebo having a coffee, and one of those entertainment lawyer types comes over, puts his hand on Bridges’ shoulder, squeezes, and says, “We’re really glad you’re here.”

Wish I could have said the same.

-EH

Filed under: Film, The End of the World as We Know It | 15 Comments »

As We Lie In Fields of Gold

Posted on March 5, 2010 by betsylerner

First, I just want to say hey to all the haters out there who commented on today’s blog. I sometimes wonder why I spend so much time blogging; well today there is no doubt. To drag everyone down with me. Thank you, thank you.

Finally, I have a very special treat for you on Monday. My first guest blogger who will give you a round-up of the Oscars that will kill you. Nobody does it better. See you on the red carpet!

Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It | 5 Comments »

You Know I Need You

Posted on March 4, 2010 by betsylerner

I need you like the flower needs the rain.

When I was a young editor, there was an editor, maybe two years older than I was, but miles ahead of me in her career, who I was insanely jealous of. I didn’t even like her books that much, but she was clearly a player and she was very beautiful. Over time, the gap closed and I had my own stable of authors. But the jealousy never abated. Just the sheer mention of her name made me crazy when she acquired a book or climbed the publishing ladder to even greater heights. At some point during this time, I came up with the Bete Noire Theory of Publishing. This is when one particular person out there is the focal point of all your envy. The sick part is that you need this person like the winter needs the spring. And I believe every editor has one. One editor who sees all the same projects, gets courted for all the same jobs, who wins auctions and beds interns. (I don’t actually approve of bedding interns, but that’s another post.)

I also believe that most writers have their own Bete Noire. You know the writer who has agents clamoring for her. The writer The New Yorker plucked for their debut fiction issue. The one whose book gets optioned by George Clooney, or after having flop after flop still gets a lucrative contract from Knopf. Or maybe it is the one who wrote about what you’re still trying to write about. Or who received a Pulitzer for a book you couldn’t read it was so…downmarket. Or who has a great husband five kids and is about to publish her sixth novel. Or worse, the one whose husband left her, has five kids, a rare disease that’s eroding her vision and is still about to publisher her sixth novel. These fuckin’ people.

Who makes you crazy? Who is the one? And you don’t have to name names, though we surely wouldn’t stop you.

Filed under: Editor, The End of the World as We Know It | 50 Comments »

Rubber Chicken

Posted on March 3, 2010 by betsylerner

Dear Friends of My Blog:

Today’s post writes itself. At 11:45 I headed down Fifth Avenue on foot. I was wearing my one and only suit, my lucky gold watch, and in my pocket an invitation to the Barnes & Noble 2009 Discover Great New Writers Awards. I think you can see where this is going…Winner of this year’s Discover Award is the handsome and gifted Dave Cullen for Columbine. It was very Oscar what with the nominees and fancy writer announcers and suspense as they called third, second and first prize. I loved it when Dave thanked me. I looked down at the floor, feigning humility when I was really pumped and teary at the same time. I looked up and everyone at the table from Hachette was clapping. And I started clapping. And then I had an out of body moment when I thought for just a second that I was an extra in Rosemary’s Baby. That’s normal, right? Dave got a crystal sculpture that could easily double as a weapon in a pinch. That motherfucker looked sharp!

Dave, for your ten years, for your exhaustive research, for your incredible writing, for never giving up when it was well past time to give up, for your hugely compassionate heart and the integrity with which you told this tragedy: I salute you.