Publishing as a Career

Nina writes: >>I always thought that if you were with a House, (and you were a selling author) they'd want more of your books. And more books led to more contracts, which lead to more books. Sort of like a paycheck. Show up. You get paid. You get paid. You show up. A vicious cycle. Until on day you decide you have some scruples. (or you let them know that) Then they stop paying. And You stop showing up. But Houses make money off of authors, really good ones, anyway. They're not a dime a dozen like employees. Do Houses work to keep their authors? Or do I have this all upside down and inside out?<<

Ah, my poor deluded friend! That was my idea when I started out over twenty-five years ago. It was vaguely true back then, if you didn't mind working for slave wages. But like everything else, the model has changed vastly since. It's all about numbers. Loyalty counts for nothing. Expertise, business acumen, talent, even NAME doesn't count for much any longer. And yes, publishers think authors are a dime a dozen. So rid yourself of that illusion as well.

You are only as good as your last book. Post that beside your computer.

I have watched hundreds of writers drop off my writer lists in the last few years alone. Hundreds. People who kept writing what they always wrote when the market moved on, when editors decided someone else was cheaper, when lines closed and no one else was buying their perfectly lovely books. (think Regencies as one very small example) Even the bestsellers feel the pressure to keep getting higher numbers, and in a slumping market, that takes standing on one's head while gargling peanut butter and singing the "Star-Spangled Banner. " And even with good numbers, if they're not good enough, a writer can be dropped. Entire lines can be eliminated. And one of these days, entire publishing houses will close.

So, if you don't need a great deal to live on, if you don't mind risk, and if you're immensely stubborn and persevere, you might survive as a writer. But never, ever think of this profession as a guaranteed paycheck.

Isn't It Friday Yet?

Still feel like I'm wading around in this new contemp, not getting deep enough. Mercury retrograde must be affecting my brain.

And my historical editor still isn't seeing the "sparkle" in the summary. So I guess I'd better learn how to write summaries. Or glue glitter to the pages. I mean, I have a hero who can create typhoons and literally blow people away. Maybe he should create stars, too? Must ponder.

Treated myself to retail therapy and then mulched leaves on a lovely sunny afternoon. Really, watching other people and admiring nature puts these stupid words into perspective.

Anyone else have great stress relievers? I have no idea if the image is copyrighted, but I'll add a motivational photo my son sent me. Laughing is always good relief.

Crossing Fingers

It's been a rather hectic day. Cut fingers and bled over new chapters of the contemp this morning. (figuratively speaking, of course) Had a two-and-a-half hour phone conference with board of national writers group. My husband is out of town so I've had to run around and do things he would normally handle. And then my agent called about the proposals I sent out last week. She's so good. She's read them and already targeted my market. Knock wood, please.

And now I'm off to meet with my regular writer friends. Keeping up that social life and getting out of the house and all that...

First Lines

We started discussing first lines yesterday. I'll have to admit I have no particular favorite first line, but I can just about pull any Jenny Crusie or Susan Elizabeth Phillips book off the shelf and grin all over myself. Apparently humorous first lines catch me, and deeply weird first lines. As a test, I pulled down Crusie's WELCOME TO TEMPTATION and found this first line: "Sophie Dempsey didn't like Temptation even before the Garveys smashed into her '86 Civic, broke her sister's sunglasses, and confirmed all her worst suspicions about people from small towns who drove beige Cadillacs."

Deeply weird AND funny. Beige Cadillacs? Don't you just have to find out what the scenario is?

I never really gave first lines much thought until recent years when it became imperative to hook a reader instantly. Personally, I prefer to dip a toe in the water instead of diving in headfirst, but I'm adaptable. So I've studied how the bestselling authors do it. They're pretty much over the map, but the ones that drag me in are the ones that give me lots of little clues or powerful emotions and practically hit me over the head and grab me by the hair. And this isn't possible unless the scene has the same level of fascination.

Nina complains that one of her first lines is flat, which might be a clue that the scene doesn't have the sparkle for an opener. Maybe a later scene would be better. Or maybe just a different POV. What about that opening scene would hit a reader over the head and drag them in? It's really tough to figure it out.

Today, I toyed with another chapter of the contemp while waiting for my historical reader to get back to me. And I planted grass seed.

Biding My Time

The contemp proposals are in the mail, and I'm working with a friend to add "magic" and "sparkle" to my historical synopsis, which means idle hands and all that....

So today I poked around MySpace to see if it was anything I ought to add to my promo schedule. Can't figure it out at all.

And I told a friend I'd mention the Great American Title contest over at RT: http://www.romantictimes.com/news_amtitle.php
Looks like they've moved on to first lines, and they have some clever ones in there. A great first line can really hook a reader. Wanta play which first line is the best? And why? We can play with the RT ones or pull them from books we love.

Oh, and before I forget--I spent the weekend in KY at a fantastic booksigning at The Bookstore in Radcliffe with over 20 other KY authors. I forgot to take my camera, but Terri Medeiros sent me these. (and really, I'm not drunk. I hate cameras. )

(Left to right: Elizabeth Bevarly, Toni Blake, me, Teresa Medeiros, and Beverly Bartlett. Admire the goody table!)