• 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

I’m Not Too Blind To See

In a favorite scene from Entourage, the actor Jeremy Piven, aka Ari Gold, exclaims after making a mega deal for the guy with puppy eyes, Adrien Something, “You should call me Helen Keller because I’m a fuckin’ miracle worker.”  

  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   InToday,Nation, I struck such a deal and I’m not talking about a seven figure book contract. More impressive, I got my husband to agree to excuse me from going to a family wedding and spending Labor Day weekend at my in-laws which is our family tradition.  Take it in. Take another minute. It’s okay.

The reason. The only reason: to write, of course. If you’re not writing this weekend, I hope you’re having sushi with Pevin. But hold on to your chopsticks, I hear he scarfs the stuff. Love, Betsy

Etymology

Unpacking unearthed a rare treasure: my pocket Oxford Dictionary which I bought in London in 1981, otherwise known as junior year abroad. I purchased it at Foyles, the venerable London book store, more like a church to me. The dictionary had been lost for at least a decade, so long that I had forgotten about it. But the moment I held it in my hand, the size and heft of a small prayer book, that lost and lonely year returned to me.

Mostly I remember my single room adorned with  one single poster, Diane Arbus’ twins. How every night, I’d stretch out with my Hardy, Dickens, or Larkin and finish off a cheap bottle of red wine and a sleeve of peanuts from the corner grocery. Every night the shop owner seemed genuinely pleased to see me; while I acted as if I had never been there before and would certainly never return.  I can’t tell you how happy I am to have this little dictionary back. You can hold it open in one hand and snap it shut like a purse. A phone number is scrawled in the end papers, 212-874-8954. Anyone?

All In the Family

 GalleyCat - The First Word On the Book Publishing Industry

By Jason Boog on Sep 02, 2009 10:23 AM

116136642_1a928c013a.jpgComedy scriptwriter Gail Lerner scored a deal with CBS for a new sitcom set in the hilarious world of contemporary publishing.

According to Hollywood Reporter, the show will follow the adventures of a book editor and her friends, and has the tentative title: “Open Books.” Lerner has worked on “Will & Grace,” co-executive produced for ABC’s “Ugly Betty,” and had a stint working on CBS’ “Worst Week.” She wrote what she knew: Lerner worked a stint as a publishing temp and her [older by ten years] sister Betsy Lerner spent 15 years as an editor and now runs a publishing website.  [Hello, fact checker, that’s a blog. And I’m now an agent not a website publisher for the record.]

Here’s an inspiring quote from Lerner [the younger] that should cheer all publishers, from the article: “Publishing is a lot like sitcoms. Although both are supposedly dying, that only makes people more passionate about creating the next great novel or show.” 

That’s my kid sis.

 

Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me?

This is the kind of letter I get most often. I think it must be terrifying to deal with agents if you don’t have any experience, if  you’re afraid to alienate one when you’re not certain if another is interested, when everything you’ve been hoping for…happens.

Betsy,
I have an offer of representation that I was at first excited about but after speaking with the offering agent I was less excited. Three other agents have my manuscript and I have notified them of the offer. I’ve stopped sending queries but still have some queries out there. My question: If I receive more requests for my manuscript is it okay to send the materials and tell the agent that I’ve had an offer I’m luke warm about?
How would you handle this situation? I don’t want to do anything unethical but also want to find the agent that is the best match for me.
Thanks,
happily confused

Dear HC: First, I’m dying to know what put you off the agent you were originally excited about? Simple common halitosis? Excessive name-dropping? Invited you to lunch at Balthazar which is so 2000?

So far, you ‘ve done everything right by alerting the agents who have your material. This is called LEVERAGE and we rarely have the chance to exercise it unless we are Google or George Clooney.

You’ve stopped sending it out. Good. But what about the queries you haven’t heard from? I think you should let those agents know that you’ve had a number of positive responses thus far and if they can look at it sooner rather than later you’d love to know what they think. I just got an email like that from a woman with two projects. I took a quick look at both (and  if you’ve been reading this blog you know I hate considering two projects at once).  Still, she came highly recommended and others were sniffing her petticoats. I was glad for the heads up. I might have passed more quickly, which is always the fear when forcing someone’s hand. But you’ve got to act. And I’d keep the agent with bad breath on the hook just in case the others don’t pan out, unless you wouldn’t want to work with him under any circumstances.

I think I’ve answered all your questions. Will you please come back and tell us how you made out, superstar? Also, if this project is so  hot, have you ever heard of an agent called Betsy Lerner? Her breath is sweet mint, her name dropping levels respectable, tasteful even, and her restaurant selection more traditional than trendy, which is cool.

The Way We Were

The work has officially begun. I’m updating The Forest for the Trees for a 10th anniversary edition. Rereading it now,  I can’t believe I had the chutzpah to write it at all. The only thing that explains it (besides my vast and passionate love of writers and their craft) is that I wrote the proposal and sold it when I was pregnant. I was  turbo-charged by the hormones coursing through my body and I believed I could do anything. Case in point: I attempted to trompe-l’oeil  a table. The entire time I was pregnant, I felt as if I had a huge generator strapped to my mid-section. There were mornings going to work when I felt as if my stride was the length of an entire block. Whatever cocktail of serotonin and estrogen that was — someone should bottle it.

My editor has given me pages of notes as to what needs updating — a huge to-do list. Betty loves nothing more thank ticking things off a to-do list. I’m not being snarky: I do love crossing things off lists, I do love my label maker, I organize my desk drawer for sport. The truth is it’s making me a little sad, remembering who I was when I wrote it, what I was struggling with at the time, who I was close to and who I had lost. And how I sat in a room for months surrounded by my books lined up against the wall like a firing squad.

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.

FAQ- How Important is My Platform?

Here’s a recent letter that touches on the “P” word:

Dear Betsy, My wife has a terrific idea for a book, a kind of sourcebook or compendium. She doesn’t work in the field, and has no qualifications that particularly scream Expert. Having said that, she has a prestigious MFA and excellent publications from small literary magazines in multiple genres. Assuming she had a knockout proposal, could she sell this book? Or would she get the No Platform cold shoulder?                      Sincerely,  “R”

Dear “R”, First, I have to admit that I am always a little grossed out when people write on behalf of their spouses. What’s up with that? 

Look, it’s impossible to answer without knowing the field– one field may be more forgiving than another. For instance, if she wanted to write about skin cancer then by all rights she should head up Sloan Kettering’s skin cancer department. Her other credentials aren’t nothing and may attest to her writing skills. We’ve all sold proposals whose authors had less than perfect platforms. It’s just so much easier when they do.

I used to work for an editor in chief who was obsessed with platform. In fact, he barely wanted to consider a writer who wasn’t from the Ivy leagues for starters. Ditto, journalists had to work at the top tier papers he deemed worthy. It felt like he had a scorecard for every project and if you could tic nine out of the ten attributes, you might get to acquire the book. While I was ripshit about this at the time, the unfairness of it all, as I grew up in publishing I saw how helpful it was to have the right platform. I came to see that not only my uptight boss but the rest of world wanted authors with mega-watt credentials. That’s how you got booked on TV! If you were from a top tier organization, the media would pay attention. Look how much coverage Frank Bruni is getting for his book about overeating, for example. If he had been a food critic for the Fuckme Herald, I doubt his book would have gotten any attention. Well, that’s not fair, I haven’t actually read it yet. The good news is that books and authors break through all the time, people without formal education or advanced degrees, people with sketchy resumes, people who couldn’t find their way out of a paperbag. It still happens, maybe with less frequency. The world is still blessedly unpredictable.

Did I answer the question? Your wife has a chance in hell unless that proposal really does come at the earth like a meteor. Now, can I ask you a question? Is this really about your “wife”?

Pistachio

You know how sometimes a seemingly random detail from the past stays with you? Over a decade ago, I read an article that, as an aside, noted that the President and Publisher of Knopf, Sonny Mehta, snacked on pistachios as he stretched out on his sofa and read manuscripts.

With that in mind, I queried some of the most powerful publishers in town to see what they noshed on when they read. The results, Nation, are disappointing. Am I the only person out there who doesn’t mind a bag of mini carrots or micro-waved popcorn with my 600 page novel? Here’s what I got:

“I never eat while reading mss — I don’t want to get crumbs on my Kindle. And I don’t want any distractions.”  I didn’t say eat an Entemann’s Crumb Cake, for chrissakes, but an apple? Oh, I know, you don’t want to get any juice on the devise. I never thought about Kindles vis-a-vis snacking. Hmmmm.

Another publisher writes in: “Though I’m no stranger to noshing, I don’t nosh while reading. Hard to turn those pages with a Haagen-Dazs in your mitt.” Newflash: I can eat a pint of HD, blackberry, and daydream about White Water Rafting Guide Abe WHILE DRIVING. Publisher continues: “For me, nothing goes better with a manuscript than a Diet Coke.” No argument there. A DC is always welcome. When the next response came in, I began to detect a TREND:

“I never eat when I’m reading. Only a diet coke. Occassionally I’ll chew gum.” Me, too, I love a stick of gum from time to time.

Then I thought I might have detected another TREND with my next respondent: “I used to chew Orbit sugarless gum — alternating among cinnamon, bubblegum, and wintergreen. But recently I’ve made the switch to Stride, which has a tasty sweet peppermint, and Flare, which offers a much zingier cinnamon. This was a big change for me but I think it’s important to shake things up a bit in your life sometimes. ”  Friends, I kid you not, this publisher probably can claim more bestsellers than anyone out there. Well, is it any surprise with this level of discernment!

Another allows how she doesn’t snack, but drinks lots of coffee with cream. Not mik, cream. Whoa, indulgent! And then another publisher puts the last nail in the casket, “God knows I love to eat, but I don’t do it while reading for some reason.” Then it dawned on me, maybe all this  explains why I was never elevated to publisher.

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.”