Stranger than Fiction: Are Industry Lies Keeping You Down?

To all writers out there who are dutifully following the rules laid out in guidelines and at conferences about submitting your work: getting frustrated much? How well I know that feeling.

If you play strictly by the rules, the whole process could take so long that you just might give up before your manuscript is seriously considered by an agent or an editor.  The following article is for anyone who has a tightly edited manuscript and wants to speed up the whole submission process without completely pissing off the gate-keepers to the publishing world.  I hope it helps you get closer to your dream of publication.

Stranger than Fiction:
Are Industry Lies Keeping You Down?
by Marie Lamba

Never send simultaneous submissions. Always tell you are multiple submitting. Never email. Do this, don’t do that. Yada yada yada. Guess what? Lot’s of this advice might be actually keeping you from getting ahead! Let’s sort some of this stuff out.

The Big Lie:
Never send simultaneous submissions. If you do simultaneous submit, you must tell the editor/agent.

The Big Truth:
Never send simultaneous submissions to two editors or agents in the same company. Other than that, all is fair in love and publishing. Hey, what other business expects you to do things one at a time and wait for months to hear anything? Makes for very poor marketing. And you don’t need to tell anyone it’s simultaneous. Just don’t mention it. Do you really think you are getting two offers from two different people at the same time? Seriously?

I know that if you talk to editors on a conference panel, they’ll tell you just the opposite. Think about it. Why would they want you to flood everybody with submissions? And if you were a buyer, wouldn’t you love to avoid all chances of competition? But talk to professional authors, and they will tell you to simultaneous submit. If they didn’t, they’d still be waiting by the mailbox for a response.

Caveat: Make sure you carefully target your submission to editors and agents who actually handle your type of work, or else you’re wasting everyone’s time. Also, if an agent asks for an exclusive read and you agree, make sure it is an exclusive or be up front if it isn’t. You don’t want to start things on the wrong foot.

The Big Lie:
Be patient.

The Big Truth:
Patience is sometimes stupidity. In every submission, include a SASE postcard with a check off that they’ve received your work in good condition. If after a month the card is nowhere in sight, email the editor or get on the phone and call to track it down. Otherwise you may be waiting for 4-6 months to hear about a book that they never even received. (Been there, done that.) Of course, if you’re multiple submitting, it won’t be a huge tragedy, but still.

Also, if you haven’t gotten a response to your manuscript in their promised reading time, do a follow-up by email, phone or mail to make sure you’re still in the queue and not lost in a junk pile. Be polite and no nonsense about it. Don’t waste everyone’s time chitchatting.

The Big Lie:
Never Email

The Big Truth:
Email is amazing. Email queries are fast. Agents love these. You can find most agent and editor emails by Googling “their name” plus “email.” Email is also great for a quick follow up on a return postcard that wasn’t sent, or if the manuscript is past the reading time promised. But I wouldn’t email a manuscript unless you got a go ahead for this first.

The Big Lie:
When going to a conference, leave your manuscript at home.

The Big Truth:
Okay, nothing screams AMATEUR more than hauling out that huge manuscript and foisting on an editor at a conference, but it is useful to have the manuscript tucked away just in case. When I was at a pitch slam and the editor liked what I said, he asked, “Could you quickly read me some of it?” I yanked that pile of paper out pronto and started off. Also, I like to bring to conferences a few stapled sets of my first chapter with a one-paragraph summary and contact info attached to them, just in case.

The Big Lie:
If an agent/editor doesn’t get back to you, give up.

The Big Truth:
Always hope. Agents and editors are swamped. They may say response time is 4 months, when in reality it could be 9 months to a year. They lose manuscripts, their computers fail, emails get lost in cyberspace. Always put in that SAS postcard to confirm receipt. If emailing a manuscript, ask for an email confirmation that it was received. Follow up every few months to make sure you’re in the queue and ask if you should resend. You’ll find that most feel really bad about making you wait and will be kind when you touch base with them.

The Biggest Truth of All:
If your manuscript is shoddy, nothing will work. If your manuscript is excellent, GO FOR IT! No one will turn you down, unless you are a complete jerk. So be professional and courteous. When these two qualities are mixed with an excellent work, it is the true formula for success. No lie!

Why Conferences? (Or, How I Got My Editor and My Agent)

It’s conference season. Tons of workshops with authors, editors, agents. Panel discussions. Pitch sessions. As you receive glossy brochure after glossy brochure, you’re probably wondering, is it worth it? Why go to a conference at all? Well, here’s an article I wrote a few years back, and I’m including it here in the hopes that it might motivate you to step out of your house, and meet some editors and agents face to face.  Some seriously great things can come from it.

Why Conferences? (Or How I Got My Editor and My Agent)
by Marie Lamba

Take the time to network with others in the writing biz.

Okay, none of the following can help you if your manuscript isn’t ready. I mean completely free of errors, completely interesting, completely wonderful. But what if it truly is? How can you get on the speedy (and speedy is a relative term here) road to publication? In a word: conferences. Seriously. Here’s how it worked out for me.

First I applied and was accepted to the amazing One on One Conference held annually at Rutgers University (children’s writers only). If you are writing for children, this is the ultimate place to be. The editors and agents there know you have some semblance of talent to be able to get in, and they are extremely available to talk with you throughout the day. You are paired up with an author, an editor or an agent who works in your genre and you get to talk with them one on one for 45 unbelievable minutes. Then you get a 5 on 5 round table discussion with your match plus four other pairs. Plus there’s chatting with anyone you dare to over lunch. Plus there’s a keynote and a panel discussion. Absolute heaven.

I was paired up with the very kind Alvina Ling, editor at Little Brown. Not only did she enjoy my first few pages and ask to see the whole ms (yeah!), but she also asked if I was interested in finding an agent. She recommended a small handful of agents she especially respected that dealt in my genre, and said I was welcome to say that she had referred me. I’d say that was the best $75 dollars I’d ever spent, wouldn’t you?

You know how they say never email an agent a query, especially one who says on her website “no emailed queries?” Well, ha! I decided to be bold, and I found out that when your message line says “Recommended by (insert the name of the editor or top author here…only if they’ve actually recommended you, of course),” that they would in fact read your query immediately. And if all goes well, that agent will email you back in a matter of hours asking to see your whole manuscript. It went well. So I jumped the queue, saving myself about 3 months of waiting just to hear a response to my query. So far so good.

I’d like to say that the response to the manuscript was as fast. You know. The agent waits with baited breath, reads your manuscript overnight, gets back to you immediately. Well, that didn’t happen. So I figured if I didn’t hear back in the next week, or at least the next month, then I was toast. One month went by. Two months. Three. I sent a cheerful little note to check on its status. Three and half months went by.

Blah. So, time for another conference. This time I decide to attend the BEA Writer’s Digest Conference in New York. The agent I’d hoped to get would be there. Perhaps we could meet? I email her. She’s too busy. Still, I’m hopeful about the conference. I tell her I’ll try to get on her line for the one-minute pitch session to say hi. There seems to be a large number of children’s editors on the roster, and I hope to talk to lots of them. Surely not every attendee will be a children’s author, right?

To my relief I am right about this. The lines for the adult fiction editors and agents snake out the doors and through the corridors. People in those lines are lucky if they can see one of their choices. In the room featuring the children’s editors and agents, the lines only have about 20-25 people on them. I’ll get to talk to as many of these folks as I wish. I’m the first in line at the desk of Jim Thomas, Editorial Director at Random House Children’s Books. The format is rigid. The organizers ring a bell, and you race to a seat and give your pitch. After one minute, the bell rings again, and it’s time for the editor or agent to talk with you and ask questions. One minute later, the bell rings again and you have to evacuate the seat for the next person. The hope is that by the third bell you’ll have that person’s business card in hand with an invitation to mail your manuscript to them.

I had practiced my pitch ahead of time, driving my whole family nuts in the process. I felt ready. I even had my manuscript with me in my bag (something they tell you never to do…but still). So the bell rings, and I start my pitch and Jim reacts with shock and interest at the topic, and then, to my total surprise, asks if I could read the manuscript to him. (See? It’s a good thing I had it, right?) I fumble through some papers and yank the book out and start reading in a fast and steady pace. DING! Times up. Jim is smiling. “You see that person on the end? That’s Lisa Findlay. She works with me at Random House. Get on her line. I think she’ll like this.”

Wow! Another referral. So I jump onto Lisa’s line. Tell her Jim sent me. Pitch her the book and she hands me her business card asking me to mail sample chapters. Things are really going great here.

I get on the long line leading to Jennifer DeChiara, my sought after agent, and finally get my chance to chat with her. She seems tired but attentive, and I tell her she’s already got my book, but I just wanted to say hi. I discover that even though her website says she responds in 3 months to manuscripts, 6 months or even a year are more realistic dates. Good to know.

Flash forward several months. I haven’t heard from Jennifer DeChiara or Lisa Findlay. Sigh. That’s okay, right? I start working on a new book. I try not to think about it. BUT NOTHING SEEMS TO BE HAPPENING. Then something happens. It’s September and it’s like the publishing world has returned to work from a long long summer break. Lisa Findlay asks to see my entire novel, so I send it. Great!

Then I get an email from Jennifer DeChiara. Something to the effect of: I am reading your manuscript tonight. Okay. Is this one of those form emails or something? I try not to read too much into this.

Then, THE phone call comes. It’s Jennifer, in person, saying all these incredible things we writers only dare to tell ourselves in our deepest slumbers. Would I sign with her? Would I?

So now I’m absolutely floating. I dare to dream and all that stuff. But it gets better.

Within a week, Lisa Findlay gets in touch. She loves the book, has some suggested changes, but would love to sign me at Random House. Me? Me! Okay, after I get up off the floor, and call my husband who seems to only be able to say, “You’re kidding. You’re kidding,” I immediately contact Jennifer to deliver the amazing news.

So both of my pursuits for an amazing editor and an amazing agent were successful, and within a week of each other. Pinch me!

And sign up for conferences. Lots of conferences.

Website Disaster!

Frustrated. Annoyed. Oh, and a little freaked out. I created my own website with my limited abilities and a really good book, and it’s served me well for about 2 years now. Then I forgot everything I’d learned about building the website, and only mentally retained enough info to update it with author visits, book reviews, stuff like that. But last month, as I was happily doing one of my updates, something happened.

Don’t ask me what, exactly. But somehow all the formatting shifted or disappeared. Cool, right? So fine. I was too busy to deal with it, and I just didn’t. For a month. I didn’t upload the changes to my site, and the news on it just stayed the way it was…dated yes, but formatted correctly still. Now the time had come to confront this snarling monster of a problem. Two days I’ve toiled. Reading that dreaded book that once made sense but now definitely doesn’t. And I fixed it. Yeah! Then published the changes.

Here’s the really sucky thing: the site looked perfect when I previewed it online. But when I published it, total change. A total you’ve-just-wasted-two-whole-days-making-things-even-worse sort of change. Links gone. Navigation bar non-existant. Indiebound link, disappeared. Lines duplicated. Other lines gone completely.

Two terrible things here: anyone who visits my site right now is going to think I’m a whack job, AND I know that it’ll take maybe days for me to unsnarl this mess, and restore things to the way it was before.

Give me strength. And dark chocolate.

On ‘Tweens Reading Young Adult Fiction

School librarians are an incredible resource for our young readers. In fact, I first fell in love with reading and becoming a writer in my own school library at Sicomac Elementary in Wyckoff, NJ!  But school librarians are facing new challenges. A month or two ago, I was asked by the school librarians in my county to attend their in-service meeting. They wanted me to attend because What I Meant… seemed like a great fit for their 6th and some of their 5th grade readers. The novel was challenging and dealt with issues related to self-esteem and independence, plus it was clean. (I’ve just learned that What I Meant… was selected for the Young Adult Fiction Top Forty List 2008 by the Pennsylvania School Library Association. Yeah!!!!)
But school librarians have often run into the problem of how to restrict younger readers in their elementary schools’ libraries from YA titles that might not be appropriate for, say, a 4th grader. Plus, they must deal with the added problems of sometimes shocking content in YAs, and of disgruntled parents.

Attending that informative and fascinating talk with these librarians, I learned of a disturbing trend: more and more often, school librarians are accountable for what exactly is on their shelves. What may be considered great literature to one person, may seem offensive and immoral to another. Librarians are now expected to be knowledgeable and responsible for all the content in any books they order…yet with today’s books, where even the word “scrotum” pops up in a picture book inciting parental panic, this is becoming harder and harder for the librarians to do. How are they to know from the short blurbs in review publications whether a particular parent might find something offensive in a book? How are they supposed to read every single novel coming into the library beforehand?

This is a serious issue, folks. And some librarians have actually lost their jobs over it!  Sadly, elementary school librarians feel the pressure to not take risks in their book ordering, and therefore feel they are not meeting the needs of those eager 6th grade readers who would fall in love with a YA book such as What I Meant…  By middle school, the collection issue seems to ease, but who are we kidding? ‘Tweens LOVE to read YA novels. Kids read up from their age category all the time.

Publishers are well aware of this, yet there are few novels for this age group in the YA category that even I, a fairly liberal parent, would consider “appropriate” for a 10 year old or 11 year old child.  Shouldn’t there be more clean YA novels for the ‘tweens to read? And how about a way to measure the content of these books to help out the harried librarians and parents in selection? I’d love to hear the thoughts of parents, librarians and authors on this issue.

In 2007, I wrote an article about this very issue from the parent’s (and author’s) point of view, and it appeared in several parenting publications. Thought I’d print it here… so read on:

You’re Reading WHAT?
by Marie Lamba (copyright 2007 M. Lamba)

Your child is growing up and loving reading more than ever. Before you know it, she’ll be branching out from easy readers and middle reader novels about time travel and horses, to those young adult novels in that cool grown-up section of the library or bookstore. She’ll be 11 years old and eager to picture herself as someone who is older and more sophisticated. This is all good. But, what, exactly will she be reading?

As an author, I am against censorship of any book. Let me say that upfront. And I personally believe that by age 13, your child should be picking out his or her own books without restrictions. But when 10, 11 or 12 years olds are reading books labeled for ages 12 and up that turn out to be rife with sex, drugs and alcohol, I as a parent can’t help but cringe.

When I was a ‘tween “back in the day” (as my own kids put it), the most shocking book out there was, Are you There God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume. We secretly passed it to each other and read it under our blankets with a flashlight. Here was a book about how our bodies were changing. We couldn’t believe it!

But today, everything’s changed. Kids are devouring paperbacks with lurid sex scenes, and the glorified use of drugs and alcohol. It’s fantasy time, and it has nothing to do with time-travel. I know that teens will toy with this sort of delicious rebellion and I’d certainly rather have them reading about it than have them doing any of this themselves. To me, the issue here is how seamier books are marketed toward younger readers. Let’s face it: sex sells. So what happens to an “unsexy” book?

My own first young adult novel, What I Meant… has just come out through Random House Books for Young Readers. It features a 15-year-old girl, a mysterious cute guy, an Indian dad, an American mom, an evil aunt and lots of drama and laughs. The book is getting great reviews, yet from the start it has been in trouble because chain bookstores largely passed on stocking the novel. This means that most folks browsing through the chain stores will never see it. Could these bookstores have passed on it because it was a “clean” novel?

While I can’t know this for sure, I do know that the worlds of publishing and bookselling both certainly see the wild profits associated with titillating teen fiction, and are eager to have a piece of that pie. Most bookstores have a middle reader section and a separate teen section. There is no in between. So where does a clean YA novel suitable for younger readers go? The truth is there’s a limited amount of shelf space in that teen section and lots of books for booksellers to choose from to fill that limited space. If sex sells, and you were a dollars and cents businessperson, what sort of young adult book would you stock there?

What can we parents do? Do we prohibit our ‘tweens from the young adult section of the library or bookstore? If we do, we don’t allow them to mature in their reading, and they will miss out on wonderful books such as Nothing but the Truth (and a Few White Lies) by Justina Chen Headley, and titles by the very funny Sue Limb. Clean titles are out there.

Instead, I think the solution is two-fold. First, scan books that your kids are looking at. If there is an element of sleaze, chances are it’ll be right there on the cover or jacket flaps. Also, ask your librarian or bookseller for recommendations. They know books and can guide you in selecting ones that are at once exciting and challenging, yet appropriate. Just remember though that if your child really wants to read a book you are uncomfortable with, chances are that you will find him under his blanket with a flashlight reading that very same book! In this case, I suggest you read the book in question first yourself, then after he reads it, have a meaningful discussion about what went on in the story.

The second part of the solution is to remember the power that we consumers hold. When you find an author who writes wonderful, clean fiction suitable for your ‘tween, support that person. Write reviews of their books on Amazon.com or barnesandnoble.com. Recommend this author’s books to your librarian and to friends. Buy their books for birthday and Christmas presents. Tell your bookseller how much you love these particular titles and why. Believe it or not, this can turn the tide. If everyone reading this article would take these simple steps, perhaps soon we’ll be finding books labeled as ‘tween worthy, and publishers and booksellers eagerly promoting these titles, maybe even carving out a separate section for them in their shops.

The end result? A wider choice of books and better reading for all.

 

I’m not complaining, but…

Right after I got my advance for my first novel What I Meant…, I wrote the following essay, and thought I’d post it here. You’ve heard of the Haves and the Have Nots, but are you a Have Barely Enougher? This essay is for all of us currently suffering in these tough economic times. We’re getting by, and grateful, but…

I am NOT Complaining, But…
by Marie Lamba
(copyright 2007 M. Lamba)

I am soaking in money from my book advance.

I know what you are thinking. That gloating skank. And I know what you are imagining. Me, naked, rolling around in a room full of $100 bills. You hate me, right?

Well, don’t be hating. I am naked. But that’s because I’m in a tub in a brand new bathroom funded by my book advance. And the new bathroom wasn’t some luxury. It was a necessity.

See, I am a living breathing example of “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.” The very day I signed my contract for my first novel (giveth), I went to nuke some tea and found the microwave mysteriously full of water (taketh). The plumber ripped up the wall in the bathroom above the kitchen, but couldn’t find the leak (taketh, taketh). He ripped up the floor around the toilet and found it all rotted away, and later decided that the leak might be beneath the tile floor, involving the tub line. But he wasn’t sure. One thing was for sure, I needed a competely new bathroom, and my check for my book was just about the right amount (supreme taketh, combined with evil laughter).

My whole life has been like this. And, I know, I should be grateful.  Whenever something major has come up, there has been a freelance job or timely tax return that pays just the right amount. I suppose I should view the bathtub (or the microwave) as half full.

And I should be used to this. See, there are the Haves and the Have Nots, and then there’s my family, the “Have Barely Enoughers.” I come from a long exhausted line of them, starting with my grandmother who went from riches to rags during the Depression, then my parents, who dealt with unemployment during my father’s middle age.

In elementary school, I became a Have Barely Enougher in training. When the Lion’s Club delivered a Thanksgiving dinner to our door, there was turkey and rolls, but no pie. At Christmas they brought me wrapped presents, including a sweater that was too big, and pants that were too small. But they also gave me the game Payday (which, I’m sure, was someone’s good-natured way of teaching fiscal responsibility). By junior high, I was surviving the daily embarrassment of handing over state-provided meal tickets to the sneering cafeteria lady for hot lunches featuring gray mystery meat. I’d like to say I was grateful.

I couldn’t help but wonder, why me? Why my family? None of us were lazy. None of us were fiscally irresponsible. We just had bad luck. Medical and employment catastrophes dogged us. Yet through it all we never lost our house, or our sense of humor.

By the time I reached my 20’s, I was an accomplished Have Barely Enougher. My expectations were low, my skin thick. Therefore, it was no huge surprise when, after I got my first real job and put down money on an apartment, the company I was working for abruptly closed. Also not a shocker: the day after my insurance from that job ran out, I broke my leg.

Sure, there was a lot of taketh, but how could I complain? The Lord provide the the unemployment office, where I could collect money that almost covered basic bills. He gaveth me all the TV I could ever watch (until my apartment was broken into and my TV, along with most of my clothes, were stolen).

I’m in my 40s now, and I’ve gotten by. My whole family has. KNOCK ON TONS OF WOOD. Why ask for more? Just think of all those Have Nots.

And yet I can’t help but think, what if God skipped a few takeths just once in a while? Imagine if money actually got to stick around long enough to accumulate interest. The amount my husband and I earned and had to immediately spend over the past 25 years is staggering. What if there had never been a leaking roof (and rotted rafters), or zapped out electrical panel from a freak storm, or totaled car (not my fault), or emergency double root canal?

I sometimes fantasize I’m like those people, the Haves, whose cars are bigger than my living room, and who never have to limit shopping to end-of-season clearance racks. But if I were literally rolling in dough, wouldn’t I still drive a little car and be scandalized by overpriced jeans? Penny pinching is in my blood. Still, it would be nice to have money for my children’s college, or to take a vacation without fear of bankruptcy. I guess my luck could get worse (God forbid), but couldn’t it also get better?

Soon my novel will be out. Will it sell well enough to change things? Will it undo the generations of struggle and transform my family from Have Barely Enoughers to the best sort of Haves? The kind of Haves that wisely use money to improve the environment and find a cure for cancer? (Are you listening, God?)

Actually, I KNOW the book will sell. How can I be so sure? Well, let me put it this way…there are some wet spots blooming on my ceiling, the heater is acting up, there is a strange mold in my closet, and my tooth is just beginning to throb.