by Theresa Garee | Aug 19, 2018 | Blog
In a previous post, I explained how agents and editors expect authors to have a social media presence before pitching a book. I did not mention how daunting I found this fact. It’s similar to how naked I felt when I first began pitching a book to agents and how it has continued to feel pitching the book to publishers and submitting to contests as well.
You see, I’m an “off-the-scale” introvert. It’s no surprise that every time I take the Myers-Briggs personality inventory whether it is a short version on the internet or the very very long version administered by a psychology professional, my “introversion” score is nearly as high as the scale goes. Putting myself out there is truly a stretch.
Add to that recurrent chronic depression and you have a roadblock many might not overcome. I can only do this social media stuff if I find a method that works with my natural talents.
My Facebook author page hadn’t seemed that much of a stretch from my personal Facebook page so I linked it to Twitter. When I posted to Facebook, it automatically tweeted the same thing.
But the books I read about Twitter explained that this wasn’t enough. I needed to interact. To my introverted self, this sounded as terrifying as walking into a cocktail party and shouting, “Look at me!” That was not going to happen.
On a four-mile run, I began to think about how I best communicate: one on one. I wondered what would happen if I just began talking to individuals the way I might in the rest of my world.
So I started responding any time someone tweeted something that resonated with me. For a few days, my tweets went unanswered. A few days later, one or two people replied.
Then, something remarkable happened. One of my running heroes, Hal Higdon, retweeted one of my replies to his tweet!
A few days later, it happened again!
My one-one-one approach not only allowed me to play along with the extroverts who love Twitter, but also effectively increased my social media exposure. I learned that even off-the-scale introverts can Tweet!
by Theresa Garee | Mar 3, 2018 | Blog
“The profession of book writing makes horse racing seem like a solid, stable business.” – John Steinbeck
Over the past year, I’ve slowly worked through my list of small or independent traditional publishers who do not require agents. I created this list using Querytracker.net and NewPages.com. I began with publishers who only require queries, then moved to those who wanted proposals and the full manuscript.
With each round of submissions, I received feedback. I revised then sent out more. Some publishers who suggested revisions asked to see the book after I made changes. I have sent those out as well.
This month I sent out the remaining submissions including the last set by snail mail. I had saved those for last because, quite frankly, they are painful. Now, I wait.
And, I nudge.
There are two schools of thought on nudging. Some folks think it’s a waste of time and annoys the publisher (or agent). I disagree. To my thinking, and based on the advice of my friends in publishing, emails get lost and editors (or agents) appreciate a nudge to remind them of a project they might have forgotten. I’ve had one editor say she never received my original submission. She still rejected it, but at least she saw it.
For those of you thinking of nudging, here are the guidelines I use:
1. First, recheck the publisher’s submission guidelines to make sure they don’t hate nudges!
2. If you’ve sent a query and have heard nothing in three or four months (again, check the submission guidelines for this), nudge. Things really do fall through the cracks or wind up in the spam filter.
3. If one editor offers to publish your book (or an agent offers to represent you), but there are other editors (or agents) you prefer more who still haven’t responded, definitely nudge the one you prefer! This hasn’t happened to me yet, but I’m crossing my fingers!
4. If the publisher (or agent) requested the partial or full manuscript, use the same guidelines as above.
5. If you have substantially revised the manuscript, nudge nudge nudge! This is my current position. I’m sending follow-up emails with the revised material.
6. And finally, if you receive a rejection, do not follow up unless the rejection comes after you have made revisions based on the editor’s feedback. And even then, I would hesitate to ask for additional feedback. Editors (and agents) are insanely busy. You will write more books. Do not risk alienating an editor or agent you might want to query with a future project.
So, how do you nudge?
I usually forward the original email I sent, but I change the subject line to read, “Follow-up on (query/submission/proposal)” with the book’s title in the subject line. Mine reads, “Follow-Up on Query: Twenty-Six Point Freaking Two.” Then, above the forwarded material, I write, “I’m following up to see if you’ve had an opportunity to look over the materials I sent on X date. I know how easy it is for emails to get lost. Thank you for your time.” If the material has been revised, I will mention that and attach it. Brief. To the point. Boom.
And then, I go do something else, you know, like write another book!
by Theresa Garee | Nov 3, 2017 | Blog
“Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things.” – Winston Churchill
I’ve spent the past two years collecting rejection letters from agents and publishers. If I were to print them, I’d have a fistful.
The generic “this isn’t right for our list” letters don’t bother me. Even the ones that say “memoirs don’t sell” don’t get under my skin. But when a letter is more specific and there’s some possibility the agent or editor could be on the right track, I get twitchy. And that’s what I need to attend to. The more twitchy I get, the more likely they are on to something.
I choose to believe that the vast majority of people in the publishing industry work there because they love the written word. But they are also bombarded by so many submissions that they have to make a quick decision based on their gut and their experience in the market. Do they miss from time to time? Of course! Remember Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance? It received 121 rejections before going on to become a best-seller. But more often than not, since editors and agents work in the field, they know what they are talking about.
My job is to not let this feedback derail me. My biggest critic is myself. As a child, I may have internalized my perfectionist father or a teacher with biting words, but now that I’m an adult, it’s my voice I have to deal with. My job is to listen, thank the voice for trying to help me, because that’s what it thinks it is doing, and figure out if there’s any truth it it.
It’s very similar to what I do with an agent or editor’s specific response. I thank the person for the feedback and for taking time to respond. Few editors and agents reply at all. When one takes the time to write something more than “it’s not what we’re looking for,” I thank them. Then I let my emotions simmer and let the feedback sit.
While I’m waiting for my jets to cool, I do something else. I might read someone else’s work and offer feedback. I might submit to other agents or publishers who only want a proposal, a query, or a few chapters. That way, if I decide to revise, I’m sending parts that won’t be changed later. Or I enter contests that have upcoming deadlines so I won’t miss an opportunity. I stay busy.
Once I’m calmer, I look again. Is there truth in the feedback? If so, how can I incorporate it? I try to see the critic as a friend. I’m not alone in this endeavor. There are helpers all along the way.
by Theresa Garee | Mar 3, 2015 | Blog
“Writing is like a contact sport, like football. You can get hurt, but you enjoy it.” – Irwin Shaw
I’m incredibly fortunate. In MFA school where critiques can be brutal, professors Aimee Liu, Diana Gould, and Victoria Nelson were gentle in their criticism of my graduate school work. Their words were sometimes difficult to hear, but they weren’t mean or bitter and I knew they wanted nothing but the best for me.
Recently a former MFA advisor from the college I attended, thankfully he never advised me, wrote an essay criticizing his students after he had resigned. In reading his essay, I’m not sure why anyone wanted to study with him anyway. He had little respect for his students except for a handful he referred to as the “real deal.” If I’d been assigned to him I would have asked for a different advisor as others did. And no, I’m not going to dignify him by linking his article or giving his name. If you must, sniff the interwebs for a recent essay by a jaded former MFA professor.
So be careful choosing who reads your work. Back in 2002, a close friend who had just begun to write made the mistake of giving her work to a former English teacher she met at yoga. There’s nothing inherently wrong with former English teachers or yoga, but my friend realized too late that this woman was angry and blocked. There’s little more effective than a blocked writer armed with the rules of grammar to kill a fledgling writer’s mojo. The teacher’s comments were petty and stung enough that my friend has written hardly a word since. Stories like this are endless. Some might say my friend wasn’t meant to write if she couldn’t withstand the criticism. I disagree. I think she subjected herself to criticism too early and trusted her work to the wrong kind of person before she’d built some resilience.
For my previous books, I hired two different editors after researching and getting references. I found their feedback genuine and helpful even though it sometimes hurt. Through the years, I’ve also carefully gathered a supportive net of what the youngsters like to call “beta readers.” I’ve met these writers through classes, groups, and happy coincidences. For the manuscript of Twenty-Six Point Freaking Two, I chose both runners and non-runners. But all were writers in some stage of an active writing process. None of them were blocked and none of them struck me as angry, bitter people. I respect each of them and will gladly read each of their work in return. Much of the feedback I’ve received is positive and the recommended changes honest and respectful. This is the kind of criticism I can hear.
How do you find critique partners for your work? How have you built a spine to help you hear criticism? I’d love to hear about it.
by Theresa Garee | Dec 31, 2013 | Blog
“Paralyze resistance with persistence.” – Woody Hayes
Yesterday, The Ohio State University Buckeye football team landed in Miami. On Friday they face the Clemson Tigers in the Orange Bowl. Earlier in the season, they took a harsh defeat at the hands of Michigan State. I’m sure they were saddened, stunned even, by their loss to the Spartans, but they were not defeated in the larger sense of the word. Instead of stopping in their tracks, they kept moving in preparation for the next contest. They lived to play another day.
I’m going to use the Buckeye attitude as my writing strategy. I’ve had my share of defeats. It’s been a while since I’ve put myself on the agent firing line or ventured into the editorial slush pile, but I like this thought of moving on and heading into the next adventure without feeling like a loser. Our Buckeyes just keep moving. So will I.
Is it really a defeat if you’re still standing when it’s over? Doesn’t it just mean the time wasn’t right? Perhaps it wasn’t the right book or the book wasn’t done or I wasn’t ready for what came next. On we go. On to the next. In the interim, the writing itself is the reward.
