Don't Weaken

by Nib

Is it me, or has it been a long, cold, gray winter? I’m ashamed to say I sort of lost my grip during this last season. I’ve been fortunate that either by nurture or nature, I normally maintain a cautiously upbeat outlook on life in general. To augment that, I’m like the Thought Traffic Cop, directing them from the dangerous road of negativity to the more positive lane.

Something twisted in my head last fall, though, and my determined optimism faded. I opened my mind to a dribble of fear and soon, I was flooded with it. I turned in the last book of a three-book series and my new proposal hadn’t been accepted. I started writing in a new genre, experimenting with alternative publishing methods. I moved from my supportive writing network to the boonies. And I started to fret.

What if I was all washed up? What if my book sales tanked? What if no one ever wanted the new mystery series I wanted to write? What if these new books wouldn’t be successful?

I kept up a respectable daily word count but writing became a sentence, not fun. (Okay, let’s be truthful, writing for me in rarely fun, but I often feel satisfied.) My view of myself as a big fat loser grew to US dietary proportions. I literally saw my world in black and white. (I mean that literally, as in the movie Nebraska.)

I’m not sure what caused the turning point but one day it hit me. I had nothing to moan about. My goodness (truth is I probably didn’t say “my goodness” or "moan."), I had a three-book deal with a decent publishing house! How long had I worked toward that goal? I reminded myself that not long ago I’d said, “If I could have three books published, I might give up writing and become a full-time reader.” Somewhere along the line, though, I’d raised the bar on myself. Suddenly three books weren’t enough. And I wallowed in self-pity that my sales didn’t rival more successful writers.

The truth is, I may never get another publishing contract. This is what I’ve got right now: two books released, one due out next year. I had darned-well better enjoy this ride. If it’s the last time I go round, I’ll kick myself if I spend the whole time worrying about what’s next.

I also decided to stop writing the books that weren’t feeding me and start to have fun (again, a relative term). Just like the pall of winter lifting for spring, my gloom lightened. Negative self-talk that had become habit required conscious thought to change. But it’s so worth the effort.

Instead of thinking, “oh no, how will lightening ever strike me twice?” I’m feeling gratitude for the shock of the first time. I’m infused with new energy and determination to get going. No one may want to publish this next series but it’s the book I want to write. Thinking of it makes me happy. So that’s what I’m going to work on.

Maybe my new-found optimism is more a product of the coming spring than it is my ability to direct my own thinking. But it snowed yesterday and there’s a definite dreariness in the sky today. And yet, I threw myself into my new project with enthusiasm.

As my dear father-in-law used to say: It’s a great life if you don’t weaken.  

Things to Look For in a Contract

A few months ago a publishing contract for a nonfiction book came rolling out of my printer.  I held a 9-page affirmation of my project’s worth.  But I knew I had to seriously consider the terms before signing. 

  Studying the publisher’s boilerplate contract, my agent first negotiated down the number of required pages and allowed for more free copies for me, her, and my photographer.  She limited the type of book we’d need to bring to the publisher as first option and shortened the number of days they'd have to make their decision.  She changed the royalties from 10% of net receipts to 10% up to 5,000 copies and 12 1/2 % up to 10,000 and 15% after 10,000 copies sold.  She bought me two extra months to finish and turn in the book as well as a couple of extra days to correct the galley proofs.  She doubled the amount I’d be paid to revise or update the book.  She asked that I have cover and design input, and she reserved the film, dramatization, and TV rights for the agency.

Then I had a go at it.  I don’t speak legalese; but there were quite a few items in the contract that concerned me.  The index was to be compiled or paid for by me; I’m far from skilled in that area.  We had them nix that clause so they could do that at their expense.  I bargained them down further on the word and photo requirements.  I took back the rights to create (and benefit from) apps or enhanced eBooks and to blog about the topic.   I raised the percentage on eBook sales from 5% to 20% on the first 500 sold and 25% thereafter.  Instead of the photo allowance being paid only after all the work was turned in, I asked for ½ of it to be dispersed on signing.  My acquiring editor didn’t put a fight up on any of these changes. 

 

But there was more back and forth about this problematic (and frankly unfair) clause: “Sales of prior editions shall not be cumulative with sales of any revised edition for purposes of calculating royalties.” Given the fact that my percentages were to increase depending on how many copies sold, starting the count over with revised editions would put me back in earnings per book despite it selling well enough to go into those new editions. 

I still felt uncertain about verbiage I didn’t understand under Warranties and Indemnity, Accounting, and Reversion of Rights.  By this time my agent seemed tired of the back and forth demands she was placing on this editor whom she worked with on other projects and, no doubt, didn’t want to alienate.  So I took it to transaction attorney extraordinaire, Susan Spann.  For a nominal fee, she took a look at the contract. 

Despite all my efforts to catch items disadvantageous to me, she found even more troublesome clauses, some of them ones she felt were onerous enough to be deal breakers.  I wasn’t sure whether to be angry at the editor, my agent for missing them, or myself for being so naïve not to have noticed them.  

Susan didn’t think it was a good thing that the publisher could put ads inside the book without my consent, that they could withhold royalties due on my book for amounts owed on any other works I had with them, that “out-of-print” was tied to sales instead of the more vague “out of print” status, that the publisher could at any time sign its rights and obligations to another entity, that the publisher would have the right to use excerpts, up to 15, pages, from my book in others in their inventory, paying me only $100. 

What turned out to be the most important change Susan suggested was that the publisher NOT be allowed to finish the manuscript at my cost if content wasn’t acceptable.  That they would only have the right to cancel the contract.

It was never said formally, but I suspect that change might have been key to my being able to cancel the contract when my photographer backed out after I had already signed.  I canceled without an obligation to pay their costs to move forward with the project.

The lesson?  Have a capable attorney familiar with publishing contracts take a look before you sign.  Thanks Susan Spann!  --- Inkpot

Are You an Excogitator?

Have you excogitated today? I have.

Be aware, symptoms vary and may not manifest themselves at all. You might stare out the window or at a blank wall. Perhaps you nod in agreement when no one has spoken, or shout and leap up from your chair. Tears could stream down your face. Your heart races and you might grin like a fiend or quietly make a few notes. Yes, the symptoms differ, from writer to writer.

Perhaps we’re not yet excogitating when that first flash of inspiration strikes. At that specific moment, when we delicately roll a new story concept across our palettes and relish the fresh aroma and heady flavor, then, we haven’t yet excogitated, but someday we spit and rinse then roll up our sleeves, and yes…it’s time to excogitate.

Writers wear so many hats: hero, villain, choreographer, world-builder, character assassin, landscaper, musician, politician, agitator, peacemaker, soldier, theologian - I could go on and on. So we’re all excogitators, whether we admit it or not. We think and plot and study. We invent entire worlds, individuals, and societies. We devise and concoct.

I’m an excogitator and proud of it.

I do wonder though, if I ever stop writing, does that mean I’m an ex-excogitator?

~ Folio

Art Imitating Art Imitating Life

In Which Nora and Shannon Return Home

One question writers often get is: How much of you is in your main character?

With me and Nora, I can answer, not much. Nora is an avid environmentalist. While I’m concerned about the environment and I recycle, watch my water usage, take care to save energy and drive a fuel efficient car, I’m hardly an activist. Inspiration for Nora came while I lived in Flagstaff and worked at an environmental non-profit, The Grand Canyon Trust.

 This is me hiking in the Paria Creek on a trip with the Grand Canyon Trust

One way Nora and I are very much alike is in our love for Boulder, Colorado. My first experience with Boulder was in 1971, when my family moved there. I was in sixth grade and fell in love with the Flatirons. Downtown Boulder was the hippie epicenter and though I was too young to participate in that scene, something about Boulder resonated with my soul. We only lived there a year and we moved on.

When I got to restart my life, I chose Boulder in 2003. This time around, I spent as much time as possible hiking and biking in the mountains and the foothills before life took me away. I landed in Flagstaff, AZ. Not a bad place and the inspiration for the Nora Abbott Mystery Series. At the end of Tainted Mountain, the first in the series, Nora feels like she needs a place to start over. And where else would she choose but my favorite place, Boulder.

I was thrilled to steep myself in setting, picture the quirky inhabitants, bask in the shadow of the Flatirons, revel in the majesty of the Rockies. And then, wonder of wonders, I got a call from a former colleague recruiting me to join a startup. Me, Nora, Flagstaff, Boulder. Art imitating life imitating art.

For a few months I didn’t have to imagine Nora’s surroundings. I biked the same roads, hiked the same trails, drank beer in the same outdoor cafes. Wait, I don’t have a scene where Nora drinks beer on the Pearl Street Mall. I probably should have.

Alas, my stay in Boulder ended too soon. As one friend put it, I’m an itinerate writer. But Nora’s Boulder story is just beginning. She hit the shelves March 8^th. If you’ve ever wanted to hang out in the People’s Republic of Boulder for a bit, get your heart rate amped by murder and weapons of mass destruction, and find out how a non-profit really works, consider picking up Broken Trust.

As for me, I’m currently writing from the windswept prairie of southwestern Nebraska. I don’t envision Nora winding up here anytime soon. 

Lessons from young writers

Part of my work is mentoring high school students in writing. Without exception the students tell stories that are worthwhile and interesting, even profound. The challenge is to coax their voice and substance past their barriers so we make contact. The other day I had a flash of insight: I should listen more carefully to my own advice.

A few lessons from young writers:

1.     Write as if you’re speaking. Many of us immediately erect a barrier between our readers and ourselves by becoming stilted and formal in prose. When writing, my students often start a sentence with “However,” or “Therefore…” I always ask them when they last said those words in conversation. The fix? Speak your words, and either record them or try to recall how you expressed yourself when you were speaking. I often ask them to read their creations out loud when they’re done. You never forget this lesson once you’ve ever read your own work aloud at a signing or other event. J

2.     You’ll probably know this one, but: cut to the chase/start with Chapter Three. Forget the background until you’ve hooked your reader.

3.     Reduce the number of points you’re trying to make in any one section. For maximum effect narrow your focus, like concentrating a beam of sunlight through a magnifying glass.

4.     Leave out excessive detail; it slows the action.

5.     Ask yourself, when you finish a piece, “So what?” If you think about it, even in fiction, the writing has to be pretty good to distract the reader from that question.

6.     Use quirks. Find something unusual, visually interesting if possible, and latch onto it. One student wrote a great piece about how much she enjoyed wearing pink and other forbidden colors with her red hair. It’s fun and unforgettable, and told the reader a lot.

Now, if I can just listen to my own advice!

~ Stormy

Books Are Like Calculators

 

I read a few articles on traditional versus self-publishing in February's Writer's Digest.  The conclusion was: go with hybrid publishing, which is traditional plus self-publishing.  Of course that's easier said than done - getting that traditional book requires good timing, dynamite/clean writing, luck, a passionate agent with contacts, etc.  So I suspect self-publishing will end up being most of our initial options.  Then if we sell thousands, prove interest, we may be picked up by a publishing house. 

 I'm hearing about limited sales for those who typically would have made more.  I suspect that technology coming along at a fast clip is doing to publishing what it did to the calculator...lots of choices out there, some of the cheaper ones are of poor quality... but always cheaper and cheaper.  Would you rather build or buy a calculator that is intimidatingly large and costly or a tiny one that has engineering and graphing features?  It's the same with books, it’s so easy to do print on demand and e-pubbing now that yes, there's a glut of poor writing out there, but the product is cheaper because of that.  I have a little calculator that was a free giveaway…sound familiar?

Opportunities Abound!

In 1625 Francis Bacon said, "A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds."

Sometime in the 1990s an agent said to me, "every writer has to go through an apprenticeship, and writing a million words isn’t unusual before achieving your first sale."

Let me reinforce her theory by mentioning that many of my friends didn’t sell their first manuscript. Or their second. Often not even their fifth. I sold my third but it took years and many revisions.  It also took angst, anger, dashed hopes and dreams, and tenacity out the wazoo.

Writing gentles my soul.  I thrive when I'm world-building and conversing with my characters, as opposed to the negative emotions created by fussing and fuming about whether I'm THIS close to landing the next contract.  So I've changed my approach toward the publication side of this crazy business.  I'm far more picky about who I query, and when, because I'm excited to self-publish certain works.  Is my changing approach caused by confidence?  Somewhat.  But it was also created by understanding how the publishing industry works and how fast it is changing.

Opportunities abound in our brave new publishing world.  Let's take advantage of ALL of them!

~ Folio