I have a post I’d like to write brewing somewhere in the back of my head. It’s about rules and craft and submissions and the industry and industry myopia, but the yeast hasn’t risen yet, so I’m holding off. In the meantime, I stumbled across this article from The Guardian, which says, in part (in response to a previously self-published author’s opinion that publishing is a cartel):
Every industry needs quality control. One thing that differentiates the
publishing world from, say, the medical world, is that stitching an
abdominal suture requires specific qualifications, whereas writing a
novel calls for skills which, though far less quantifiable, are
absolutely necessary for success. Just because hospitals lack the
resources to field hundreds of requests a week from people wanting to
perform open-heart surgery, it does not follow that the medical world is
some kind of shadowy clique.
It made me think of the old joke. So, a novelist and a brain surgeon are at a cocktail party. “What do you do?” asks the brain surgeon. “I’m a novelist,” the novelist says. “Oh,” says the brain surgeon. “I was thinking of taking the summer off and writing a novel.” “Funny,” says the novelist, “I was thinking of taking the summer off and being a brain surgeon.”
Ba-dum-bum-ching!
Naturally. as the daughter of a surgeon, I am not about to belittle the decade my father spent in hard core studying to learn how to save people’s lives. (Another blog topic: “Why I hate people who dismiss doctors”, but I digress.) However, I do think there is a certain dismissal of the idea that it takes serious skill and application to be a novelist because there is no set course for such a profession. Some people major in creative writing then go to fancy MFA programs and spend years honing their craft before they get soemthing through the gates, other people sit down in their basement with a notebook one day, and say, I want to write a novel, and through a combination of natural, God-given talent, dumb luck and yes, serious application, they write one and sell it.
The latter is probably the most damaging to my cause of getting people to realize how hard this is. Because there are people that just do it, without training or experience. And you can’t really say that about brain surgeons. But, do they really have no training or experience?
I’ve been writing stories since I could hold a pen. Growing up, I eschewed most organized sports and board games in favor of long sessions of “imagine” etc. In college, I spent long hours writing stories. I majored in literature. I read a ton. [Glances at wall covered in bookshelves.] Maybe two tons. I imagine these overnight successes had similar “training”.
Before we had schools, doctors and other trained technicians learned their craft through a complicated system of apprenticeship. They watched the masters, then the copied the masters, then they helped the masters, and then they did it on their own. Reading books is like watching the masters. Writing stories in the style of those whose voice you most admire is like copying them. Then, finally, you get to work on your own. Visual art has used this system. And it’s commonly held that many writers’ first attempts are derivative of whoever’s work they’ve most recently admired.
I think my path to publication falls somewhere in between the two extremes I mentioned above. I never attended an MFA program, but neither did I sit down and sell the first book I’d ever written. I’ve now written five novels. And after I decided to do this, joined RWA, and read everything I could get my hands on about how to write a book. I discarded a lot of it as utter crapola or too elementary to be of any use to me. (Oddly enough, I’ve never found a need to brush up on my ability to include conflict in my novels, which many writers struggle with. I knew intuitively — because of my long association with “masterworks” — that stories need trouble to be stories.) I recognized the value of certain teachings for other people, but already has a pretty clear idea in my head of what I knew and, more importantly, what I needed to learn. So that cut down a lot on what I still needed to do. There are certain mistaken beliefs that it’s a queue and it’s “not fair” when some people sell quickly and others don’t. Well, all that’s true, if you account for the fact that the starts are staggered and the finish line is a time warp. But I worked really hard on craft (by writing manuscript after manuscript) and business for the better part of three years.
And it’s good that it’s been working because, um… I don’t really have a back up plan. When I started this, and it became clear to my father that I wasn’t going to be published yesterday, he asked me how long I was going to do this before trying a real career. I told him that it had taken him four years to get through medical school. We hit four years since graduation in June, so I just made it under the wire. ::phew::
When I first started, at 23, I had ridiculous expectations about how long it would take. I figured one year to write and sell something, and then one year for it to be published. I wanted to have a book out by the time I was 25. Then I wanted to sell a book by the time I was 25. Then I wanted to sell a book when I was 25. Damn. I sold two books four months after turning 26, and they will be out when I’m 27. Could be worse. I’m told the average time it takes to sell a book is four years. I hate being average, but I’ll take it over delinquent.
Still, never once in all this time, did I believe publishing was a cartel. My books weren’t good enough, the agent was mistaken, the market wasn’t right, the editor was using crack… all of these things I thought. But I could write a better book, find an agent I meshed with more, look for a new market, outlive the editor* — in short, pull the bike up off the curb, brush the gravel from my skinned knees, and start again. I never got to the point where I thought that you coudn’t get in if you were new and unknown. And I don’t think I would. I’d think it was hard, but rightly so. We want to do something really really hard. And I knew too many people who were unconnected and just wrote a good story and followed the directions and submitted it and didn’t give up and sold it and are now authors.
Maybe I’ve been lucky. Maybe I joined an RWA chapter where everyone was treated with respect, no matter what their publishing credentials (I’ve heard tell of other chapters where pubbed members are gods and unpubbed members are the unwashed masses lucky to be allowed to gaze upon such splendor). I made friends with good people and good writers, I took advice from same, and I never bought into the idea that only a published person knew the magic handshake. (And, take it from one (Secret) Society Girl, they don’t teach you one when you are sold.) Some of the most talented writers I know remain mystifyingly unpublished, but I never thought of that any differently from another industry that makes a business error. A shoe store fails to stock the new thing in fall footwear, or a fast food chain is behind the times in the rise in health food.
From my limited experience int eh publishing industry, there’s nothing the agents and editors like *more* than finding a great new writer. I think they like it even more than picking up a great established author (which they love). We’re a nation of discoverers, it’s a cultural fantasy.
Do I know why these great books that get passed over get passed over? Lord no. But I do know that it’s not on purpose.
_______________________
*Which I have.
September 20th, 2005 at 10:04 am
Diana, great post! I firmly believe every writer makes her/his own individual journey. There are times when I doubt myself and my writing, like knowing I don’t have more than a few months of junior college under my belt and most of my agent’s clients have degrees ;), but I know I’m meeting goals so I must be on the right track.
Congratulations on what you have accomplished. You’ve earned it. =)
September 20th, 2005 at 12:36 pm
I think there is no accounting for the quickness — or slowness — of this. One person might defend their success by saying, “but it’s my third book! But I’ve spent five years learning!” — yet there will always be someone who started writing six months ago, and sold their first book — and yet someone who has spent ten years writing and hasn’t sold a single one out of her fifteen novels. It has nothing to do with fair game, quality, or learning. It’s a game of numbers, of luck and trends.
Don’t hate being average. I’ve been writing since I turned 15, and I have not sold a novel to a big publisher yet. I console myself by thinking I’ve been too “literary” for mainstream and too mainstream for literary. I’d prefer being ‘average’ and selling within three years. Not that it’s not my own fault
September 20th, 2005 at 12:39 pm
In any artistic occupation there is bound to be those who work for years honing their craft and never get anywhere, and those who stumble onto something and become overnight stars. Since it’s catering to the public, the public has a lot to do with it, and even if you can control your own writing/singing/acting/painting…
you can’t control other’s response to it. Which sort of makes the surgeon/novelist comparison a moot point, if you get what I mean.
I think I’d rather be one who hones skills and then shoots to stardom…Well, one can dream!
September 20th, 2005 at 1:52 pm
Yes, LOL — imagine a patient saying, get me another doctor, I don’t like this one’s legs… and the way he holds the lancet, it’s not that elegant, you know… I envision my future surgeon as a more refined type… this is more about acting, did that too, for a while.
September 20th, 2005 at 2:28 pm
Excellent post, Ms. D! Very wise for a mere 27 years. *bg* Good advice, good analogies and good wisdom.
September 20th, 2005 at 2:52 pm
Kelly, progress is always something. Have you read this article? It likens the process to that of freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors, and says that one year does not necessarily equal each stage. I found that article very meaningful when I was a frustrated senior.
Anonymous #1, I don’t know if I agree with you that it has nothing to do with quality. I think it has everything to do with quality, up to a certain point. After that point, it’s lightning strikes. Learning is only about increasing the quality — mostly the quality of the writing, but also the quality of the business side — how to submit (and I’m not talking about fonts and margins, but about finding the right market, recognizing the right market, recognizing the right methods to get it to market, etc.) and how to make good choices.
But none of the industry, networking, luck, numbers, etc. are going to get you anywhere if you don’t have the quality. As I was saying above, I know lots of fabulous writers who haven’t sold yet. It means their number hasn’t been drawn. But you can’t even get in on the cosmic lottery unless you have the quality.
Which is why I agree with Sam and Anonymous #2’s (or is it Anon #1 again?) point about divorcing yourself from the audience. If too many cooks spoil the broth, what do a thousand or a million or more readers do?
However, the surgeon comparison was never meant to be an across-the-board comparison. It was an old writers’ conference joke. And it isn’t meant to apply on all levels to the industries. The way the doctor’s legs look has no bearing on whether or not he can cure disease, whereas it might effect how well an actor will be able to entertain the audience. I brought up medicine solely to illustrate an industry in which training is a standard, delineated thing. You want to be a doctor? I’ll tell you exactly how to become one. They have standardized tests for doctors. They don’t for novelists.
The fact of the matter is that no one knows “how to be a novelist.” They can tell you ways that they have seen work and ways that they have seen not working. No one can tell you how long it takes or the steps you need to do it. No one can tell you that the way that worked for them will work for you. Or won’t. There are too many ways to count.
September 21st, 2005 at 3:37 am
I’d almost rather be a surgeon, because then you know where you stand and how good you are.
As a novelist I’m constantly doubting, starting over, trying to compare my work to others then telling myself that’s not what matters. When you measure success by dollars, creativity gets pushed into the back seat. I really hate telling people I’m a writer because the first question is rarely ‘what’s your book about?’ but, ‘How many books did you sell?’ And friends who know I write continue that with ‘Well, how did you do this month?’ sort of thing.
There must be another way to measure artistic success than in a material way.
OK this is the third time I have had to type in the little letters on the bottom. Argh!!!!
September 21st, 2005 at 5:46 am
The legs comment — not a really fitting one, but, well…
— was meant to reflect the fickle nature of the audience’s preferences. And that’s where comes my quality comment. Yes, up to a certain point, it matters. A totally bad book has less of a chance to be published (albeit it has happened, too). But if book A is better than book B, quality wise, it guarantees nothing. It doesn’t mean it will sell better, sooner, or it will receive more critical acclaim, or even that the audience is going to love it more. It doesn’t even mean that it is truly better, because beyond a certain point, it is hard to judge quality in fiction.
So an artist, any kind of artist, has no firm creative criterions by which to judge their own position, success, and quality — thus, they either turn to monetary criterions or begin to compare themselves to their rivals. Where is the point at which we can feel accomplished, and deserving of that accomplishment? Once you have finished a book, you are proud of it, then you realize it is only a manuscript, and others have already sold theirs (not to matter relatives asking when you are going to sell, look how many books get published every year, it can’t be that hard, right?). Then you sell, and you realize you are still at the bottom of the food chain. Then you find yourself a bestseller, and you are still not there! Still not number one. Unlike sports, there are no leagues, no champonships, but the same feel of rivalry.
September 21st, 2005 at 5:51 am
” I really hate telling people I’m a writer because the first question is rarely ‘what’s your book about?’ but, ‘How many books did you sell?’”
This is what I learned when I became a small press author. That it’s not enough to sell for the people around you to admit you are a writer.
You’ve got to sell big and sell wide. You have to have your books in every bookstore, preferably on the front displays, and reviews in nationwide magazines. Otherwise, you’ll just end up having to defend your right to be called a writer. Yes, those are the real books. Yes, it’s a real magazine. Yes, you can’t get it in any bookstore, but it’s real real real I got money for it you bloody idiots!
The problem is, you don’t fully believe it yourself.
September 21st, 2005 at 7:03 am
Anonymous 6:51, I know what you mean. When I was working for a newspaper in Florida, I’d be at a cocktail party and tell someone I was a writer and they’d say, “All the good writers live in New York.” And I’d say, “Not if there job is in Tampa!” And then of course, the inevitable, “If you want to be a writer, you should live in New York.” Um, no. Nice thought though.
And the front of the bookstore thing, too. I wrote a profile for the same paper and I had a line in there about “bestselling authors” which my editor made me take out because it was his opinion that if they were really bestsellers, he’d know their names. As if every bestseller was a household name like Tom Clancy or Stephen King.
I think in a lot of professions you just have to let go of your rivalry, because you aren’t going to able to measure it. I don’t know if it is any easier in medicine. You certainly don’t measure it by money. Number of patients? Awards? Seats on the hospital board? It’s just like any other profession. THere are too many ways to judge whether you’re doing any good.
September 21st, 2005 at 7:05 am
That’s so easy for you to say, Diana, but you had an “in” too. I read that your agent is a family friend, and you went to Yale and then wrote a book about it? Some of us have to actually work to make up our own stories. You should try it sometime.
September 21st, 2005 at 8:13 am
>>That’s so easy for you to say, Diana, but you had an “in” too. I read that your agent is a family friend, and you went to Yale and then wrote a book about it? Some of us have to actually work to make up our own stories. You should try it sometime.< <
I’m outraged by this post. Anonymous, your ignorance is astrounding…to just post some fly-by comment that’s meant to be snarky and vicious. Shame on you!
Let me tell you, I’ve known Diana since 2001 (is that right, D?) and there is NO ONE — read that, no one — who has worked harder making up stories, being creative, hashing over the GMC, dialogue and plotting, learning the craft, getting to know the industry, putting herself out there and trying, trying, trying.
For going on four years, I have listened to her tears when she’s gotten rejected (and she got rejected a lot…even by the agent who eventually signed her), cyber hugged her when she’s had horrible contest feedback and celebrated profusely when her awesome story (that I’ve read…and it will be a bestseller) sold.
So, for you to blow in and post something so cruel and inaccurate is simple Not Cool.
September 21st, 2005 at 8:49 am
Wow, well said Marley. Anonyous, I am stunned at the sour grapes I am reading in your post. You are clearly assuming things that you know nothing about.
I’ve also known Diana for a long time and know how hard she has worked. I believe this is novel number 5 that she’s written? Have you finished one anonymous? If so, then you know how hard it is.
Secondly, Diana’s going to Yale did not sell this story, her writing did. Not to downplay Yale by any means, because it’s not exactly a walk in the park to get into one of the top Ivy Leagues in the country…and graduate!
But Diana’s writing is what sold this story. It is exceptional. I was fortunate to read the partial that went on to sell this story, and it blew me away.
This is not a simple roman a clef about her own experiences at Yale. No, this is a totally made up, very high concept story that I have no doubt will be a bestseller.
It is a page turner, very entertaining and smartly written.
I knew there would be jealous types who would make hasty and very wrong assumptions, evidently you are one of them, and I actually feel sorry for you.
Perhaps you should consider reading it before passing judgement?
Pam
September 21st, 2005 at 12:34 pm
Wow, girl goes to work for a few hours and all hell breaks loose on the blog! LOL!
Thanks for the kind words, Marley and Pam. I really appreciate it. But I also understand where anonymous is coming from too, and in fact,t aht’s why I wrote the article. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard both of those comments.
Yes, it’s true that a family friend is friends with my agent, and she introduced us. This happened in 2003. I signed with her in 2005, after she rejected one of my books, so I don’t think I got an agent through any “connections,” because I also got two other offers from agents who don’t know me from Eve.
And also, yes, I had a cool platform for this book in that I could be viewed as an “insider” but I was an “insider” in my last book, too, which is about a reporter in Florida (which I’ve also done). Still, that one didn’t sell, maybe because it wasn’t “breakout” or not as marketable, or not as good. Could be a variety of reasons.
So in both instances, I’m inclined to think I wrote a good story, and that the other stuff might have ogtten it initially noticed, but didn’t make up for the writing
September 21st, 2005 at 4:22 pm
Hey, and Laurell K. Hamilton got famous writing about vampires, think she had an in with the vamp community, too?
Diana, don’t pay attention. Success always draws envious people out of the woodwork… although you know what. I’m envious about something, too. You’re going to laugh but… I always wanted to be a cover model! Okay, so I used to do modeling–very little, very unsuccessful. But the ambition stayed. One day I’m gonna self-publish something with myself on the cover. Hopefully I won’t be old and ugly by that time
At 9/21/2005 8:05 AM, Anonymous said…
That’s so easy for you to say, Diana, but you had an “in” too. I read that your agent is a family friend, and you went to Yale and then wrote a book about it? Some of us have to actually work to make up our own stories. You should try it sometime.
September 21st, 2005 at 5:01 pm
Great post, Diana. And you know, even if people think those types of negative things about an author, why post them on the author’s blog and anonymously? It just sounds like sour grapes and jealousy. It’s hard to battle the big green monster sometimes, especially when you’ve been writing a long time without a sale. But I think a positive attitude and persevering are key to making it. At least I hope so, since I’ve been at this for a decade now.
September 21st, 2005 at 5:42 pm
People who post anonymously are cowardly.
September 21st, 2005 at 5:53 pm
Anonymous 6:42, you crack me up.
Trish, admit it — that was you right?
JUST KIDDING!!!! I know what you mean, though. However, I tend to keep my jealous bitchery limited to a small circle of friends. LOL. Though really, ti slips out sometimes! Like when I’m looking at your GH necklace. 
Truly, I didn’t really take offense. I’ve heard both of those questions before and I’m like to hear them a lot more. I tend to think they got me a “look” but not a “sale”. What I can’t answer is how to make sure all the good books get the attention they deserve. One of the best writers I know couldn’t get past GO with her query letter and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. The letter is fine and the book rocks.
Good point Anonymous-who-wants-to-be-a-cover-model. Who are these vamps writers anyway? Very suspicious! And you’ve got it all over me if you were a model. I was just at a photo shoot at the right time. It’s all about the photographer, in this case.
All of this hullabaloo completely distracted me from continuing on with my essay series. I have to get cracking. But Lost is on tonight. Hmmmm…
September 22nd, 2005 at 3:26 pm
So young but so wise ;-)Great post diana…I do have to agree with this anonymous statement: But if book A is better than book B, quality wise, it guarantees nothing. It doesn’t mean it will sell – PERIOD being my addition. No one’s really said too much about how talent comes into play. Does it matter? Is it important? In the game of Literary Lotto, I don’t think so (much).
September 24th, 2005 at 1:12 pm
Heavens no, it wasn’t me. I’m very happy about your success. I’m of the high tide floats all boats theory.
June 19th, 2007 at 3:17 am
Actually I’m a brain surgeon and a writer! I’ve just finished a book (Roman historical novel) and I’m seeking a publisher!
Co-incidence? I couldn’t help but smile when I read your article.
Nice site!
Best Wishes.