You know the word “scapegoat,” right? Are you aware of the origins?
It’s like this: in what we’ll just call “Bible Times,” the community would heap all their sins upon a goat. The sins were metaphorical; the goat was not. Then they would kick that goat in the ass and force him into the desert, where presumably he’d either a) get into crazy adventures with the Devil and a talking cactus or (more likely) b) die and be eaten by flies. Either way, that goat carried your sins away from town. When the goat expired, so did all your terrible actions.
Your novel is kinda the opposite of that pathetic goat: onto it you heap not your sins, but your greatest hopes and dreams. “One day, you’ll be a bestseller,” you whisper to the goat as you duct-tape your manuscript to his back. Then you put him in the elevator and send him into the Publishing Wilderness, where he will either a) randomly wander into the proper agent or editor office and get your book published or (more likely) b) die and be eaten by flies.
Brutal honesty time:
That novel of yours isn’t likely to get published. The numbers just aren’t in your favor. Last I did a sweep of the Internet, it was home to 500,000,000 writers. Once you remove the wanna-be dilettantes, you still end up with 1,000,000 left. And they’re all fighting to have their manuscripts published.
You gotta maximize your chances of putting a kick-ass book into the ecosystem where it bites, kicks, shivs and garrotes any other novel that gets in its way. One way to do that is to identify the many pitfalls that await you, your book, and its goat.
Wanna know why your novel won’t get published? (Or, alternately, won’t get an agent?)
Ten reasons. Here we go.
1. Them Brownies Ain’t Done Baking
Brownies need long enough in the oven, or the middle ends up soft, gooshy, and still uncooked. Your novel might suffer from that problem: you sadly didn’t do enough with it. Maybe it needs another draft. Maybe it needs a strong copy-edit. Could be that it will benefit from some challenging readers or from a down-to-earth writer’s group. Whatever the case, the novel just isn’t “there yet.”
Make sure you’re spending enough time and effort on that sucker before you loose it into the world.
2. Your Training Wheels Are Still Attached
Sometimes the problem isn’t the novel — the problem is you. Ever hear the term “starter novel?” It means that this is your first book and it implies that this first book just isn’t a fully-formed novel. It was a learning process. It was an experiment. The training wheels are still squeaking and rattling.
Hey, listen, I wrote five novels before I got an agent for the sixth. Those first four novels were crap, the fifth almost got me an agent, and the sixth really sealed the deal. I learned as I wrote. I grew as a writer. I kicked the training wheels off. Now I’m on a mad Huffy BMX bike. Or maybe a Vespa scooter.
That’s right. I said it. A Vespa. Mmmm. I know I’m sexy.
Wait, what? I dunno. Point is, you still have work to do as a writer. Let this novel be a stepping stool to other, better books. Is it guaranteed that your first novel is a stinker? No. But I’d call it a reasonable chance, so it’s best to get some informed opinions before you pin your publishing dreams to it.
3. You’re Allergic To Following Instructions (AKA You Suffer From “The Special Snowflake” Conundrum)
When you submit a novel, you are beholden to a number of instructions supplied by the agent or the editor. “Send the first five pages and a query letter; also include a deed signing over the soul (but not body) of your first-born child. Please include an SASE as well as a feather from a peacock made of molten pewter.”
Writers, for whatever reason, think they’re immune to such instruction. As if it’s some kind of test. “Oh, they don’t mean me. My novel is sublime. It transcends such petty nitpickery. Lesser authors will be caught in the netting of micromanagement while I — champion of all writer-kind! — send them a novel written across 40,000 Post-It notes and shoved into the digestive tract of this here billy goat.”
You are not immune. Follow the fucking instructions. You are not a special snowflake. Do what they ask. Do so politely. Shut up about how they’re trying to oppress you and just dance the dance.
4. Novel’s Great, But The Query Letter Sucks Eggs
You’ve written a 90,000 word novel. And now you have to condense it down into 250 words.
Trust me, it’s hard. I know. It’s like putting on 200 lbs but you still have to fit into your Speedo bathing suit: it feels like you’re cramming so much into so little.
Sure, sure, it isn’t fair. Neither is a 40-hour work-week. Go home and cry in your mother’s vagina. You want to sell that book, that means you have to put together a good query. I don’t know that you need to put together a great query — you just need to convince them to take a peek at your beast. And I don’t mean that in a creepy, sexy way, either: the query is there to convince them to take it to the next level and request a full manuscript. Then your book can sell itself, as you had intended.
If you want to know how I wrote my query letter, check out:
“The Pitch Is A Bitch (But Don’t Fear The Query).”
5. You’re A Dick
Maybe your novel is the bee’s knees, the cat’s pajamas, the canine’s testicles (as they say in England).
Fact remains, if you’re just a big ol’ douchey dickface, nobody’s going to want to touch you with a ten foot pole. This is an industry of people. You’re selling your novel, but your novel won’t even get in the door if you can’t muster cursory politeness and expected tact. Are you a whiny, complainy, ego-driven Negative Nancy? Not a good sign. If the author is more trouble than the novel is worth, well…
*poop noise*
So sorry. No consolation prize. Buh-bye.
Be nice. Put a good face out there. You don’t need to be bland or boring or Suzy Sunshine all the time.
Just don’t be a dick.
6. What Genre Is That, Again?
Ask yourself this: “Where will this go in the bookstore? In what section? On what shelf?” If that has no clear answer, then you’re throwing up a red flag. “It’s horror paranormal romance mystery, with sci-fi elements. Oh, and it also has recipes!” Hey, I think that’s an awesome and brave experiment and maybe you’ll have some luck with it. But you have to recognize that, for better or for worse, publishing is in shaky straits right now and it’s running a little scared. Something that doesn’t fit in any box is problematic — how do you market something whose market is uncertain? If you can’t do it, neither can they.
7. Deja Vu
“And then Neo sticks his lightsaber into the Eye of Mordor. Popeye kisses Olive. The End.”
Your work is derivative.
Maybe you didn’t mean for it to be, but it is. Or maybe you thought it was some kind of “homage.” Either way, an agent is going to look at it and say, “Seen it, done that, don’t need it, need a nap.”
You might be asking, “Wait, I’m supposed to stay inside the box but also think outside the box?”
And now you know why it’s so hard to get a book published.
Yes. We want comfort and familiarity without redundancy.
Shepherding a novel to publication is like threading a needle. Blind. On a moving train. While you’re being attacked by monkeys with sticks. Good times.
8. The Book Is Not, How You Say, “Commercially Viable?”
Something about the book is just striking the, “I don’t know if this will sell” bell. Maybe “vampire koalas” aren’t hot this year. Maybe the book-buying public has, in polls, revealed a certain discomfort with novels that prominently feature “cat abortions” as a plot point.
This is a tough one (says the author who perhaps knows it intimately).
Maybe your book is in a niche. A niche is nice in that it has an audience, but its audience may be too small to accommodate publication — which makes the niche a bad place to be.
Either way, the best advice is, be ready to make changes. Changes that will mold the book into something that is deemed attractive to a money-wielding audience.
9. Sometimes, Even The Brightest Spark Won’t Catch Fire
You might have a glorious masterpiece in your hands and yet… bzzt. Nothing. You know it’s awesome. Everybody else knows its awesome. And yet for some reason, it just isn’t happening.
What can you do about it?
*blank stare*
I really don’t know. You probably have two courses of action:
1) Be patient. Eventually an editor will get mauled by a tiger or something and then you can try again.
2) Self-publish. The publishing world doesn’t know your novel’s glory, so you must become its pimp.
(Check out, “Should I Self-Publish? A Motherfucking Checklist.”)
10. Unfortunately, You’re A Deluded, Talentless Hack
Out of the 500,000,000 writers out there, do you honestly believe that they’re all top notch penmonkeys? Mmmyeah. No. Some of them are completely in love with the stink of their own word-dumpsters, just huffing their foul aromas, getting high on inelegance and ineptitude.
Thing is, if you’re that guy, you’re probably never going to not be that guy. It’s possible that, once you recognize the illusion you may shatter it as if it were a distorting funhouse mirror, but that won’t do anything for the “talentless” portion of our competition. Some people just aren’t meant to be writers no matter how much they want to be that thing. Reality is a cold bucket of water.
Of course, realistically, if you’re deluded, then you’re probably not even reading this post, are you? And if you are, you’re not going to take any of my advice — not one lick of it. Which is okay, because hey, maybe I’m a deluded, talentless hack, too.
Anyway, looking to hear from you kids out there in the audience. Writers, editors, agents: why aren’t novels getting published? I’m sure I missed something. Shout it out.
Eric Satchwill says:
I have two reactions to this sort of post. The first is to run screaming into the hill or huddle under a blanket, because there is no way I can beat those odds and item 10 must apply to me and oh god, my book sucks, doesn’t it? The second is to just be ten times more determined to succeed at this. I’m giving the second reaction a nice big stick to bludgeon the first reaction unconscious (the damn thing won’t die, unfortunately.)
Also, “Go home and cry in your mother’s vagina?” So not a mental image I needed. You sir, are terrible, I don’t know why I keep coming back 😛
January 10, 2011 — 2:28 AM
terribleminds says:
@Eric:
Let’s be honest, it’s because I send you a weekly check. That’s why you keep coming back.
Another $0.50, coming your way! CHA CHING.
🙂
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 7:00 AM
Kim Curran says:
Another fine kick-up-the-arse of a post.
Reassuring to know that it took you till your sixth book to bag an agent. I’m on my second book – my first is out there in the agent ether, and is currently suffering from a dose of number 7 with a healthy dash of number 9 and probably a huge dollop of number 10. But each ‘oh, so close, I nearly bought this’ rejection just makes me want to work harder and writer better.
An agent told me that in this crazy business tenacity counts for more than talent. But I think your post proves that tenacity, with the right attitude, can become talent.
January 10, 2011 — 5:07 AM
terribleminds says:
@Kim:
My only caution would be that tenacity doesn’t become talent, exactly — it just means that talent isn’t enough to get published. That’s a hard thing for most writers to realize, that you could have the most jaw-dropping book EEEEEVER. But that doesn’t guarantee a good goddamn of anything; no certainty toward publication. A lot of it is “right time/right place” luck stuff. But that doesn’t mean a lack of talent pays off the same way. Having a book that just isn’t great is a book that won’t be able to take the opportunity afforded by that aforementioned right time/right place combo.
Talent is important, no doubt about it.
But it’s tenacity that gets that talent seen. I think the reason tenacity is more important (in theory) is that more writers have talent than they do the perseverance to survive in this “biz.”
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 7:03 AM
Josh says:
You had me at “cat abortions.”
Like Eric, I find myself all the more determined to get my share of the ink that’s out there. Maybe I won’t this time around – maybe I am one of those talentless hacks. Won’t stop me from trying.
January 10, 2011 — 6:58 AM
terribleminds says:
@Josh:
That’s my favorite line from Jerry McGuire.
Keep on keepin’ on.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 7:04 AM
Sarah W says:
I may not be a special snowflake, but I am the one over there knitting herself an insulated bag.
January 10, 2011 — 6:59 AM
terribleminds says:
@Sarah:
I may not be a special snowflake, but I am the one over there knitting herself an insulated bag.
For severed heads?
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 7:04 AM
Kim Curran says:
Yes, totally, Chuck. What I was trying to say, in a sleep-deprived, brainmush state, was that so many writers give up at the first sniff of rejection. But if you stick at it then your tenacity can help make you, if not more talented exactly, then at least better at your craft.
That said, if your writing sucks balls, it’s always going to suck balls. 🙁
January 10, 2011 — 7:23 AM
Amber J. Gardner says:
#10 is my absolute worst fear in the universe. And for some reason I’m doing everything to prove that I fit into #10. Not good.
January 10, 2011 — 8:16 AM
terribleminds says:
@Amber:
How so (re #10)?
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 8:54 AM
netta says:
I’m sorry. I’d comment but I’m too busy trying to get over the image of crying into my mama’s vajayjay.
Some call it tenacity, some call it obsession. You’re right – talent isn’t enough. You have to want it real bad. Like, crazy bad. And a willingness to ride a goat, if necessary. Heh.
January 10, 2011 — 8:57 AM
Kate Haggard says:
Nothing constructive to add. I simply can’t wait to see what kind of Search Term Bingo results from this post.
January 10, 2011 — 9:00 AM
Wereviking says:
That’s right. All you can do is keep writing/editing/polishing/promoting/sucking cock and remember it is a craft. Amen.
January 10, 2011 — 9:06 AM
Ros Jackson says:
I’m sure the field is getting more competitive. I don’t know whether this is because more people are doing creative writing courses and degrees, or because said degrees are getting better, or because there are more people in the world (of which a certain % will be creative geniuses) but only so many bookshelves.
January 10, 2011 — 9:24 AM
terribleminds says:
@Ros:
Probably all of the above.
Pubs are, I believe, also buying fewer books.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 9:25 AM
Delia says:
I’m with Amber in my fear of #10. Of course, if I ever get past it, I’ll have to contend with my fear of numbers 1-9. Maybe I’ll just stay here a while. Nah, screw that. If I’m going to get stuck somewhere, I’ll shoot for #4. At least that one can be overcome. Right? (Please say yes.)
January 10, 2011 — 9:35 AM
Shoshanna Evers says:
Great advice, and I laughed out loud at “go cry in your mother’s vagina” LOL (see I’m doing it again!) The first book I wrote isn’t worthy of the paper I printed it on. I finally sold my 4th completed book. I owe it all to ruthless critique partners and books on how to write. Seriously! 🙂 I’m going to have to Tweet this post all over the Universe bc I loved it. Thanks!
January 10, 2011 — 9:41 AM
terribleminds says:
@Shoshanna:
Congrats on the sale! That’s very exciting stuff right there.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 9:42 AM
John says:
I am writing my first novel and I’ll be 100% honest with ya, it stands about as much of chance at being published as goat does taking away all my sins. I’m writing it anyway because it’s the sumbitch that I HAVE to write & to prove to myself I can take this mofo from start to The End. I just don’t see a marketplace for it, but hell what do I know, I am probably just a talentless, self-deluded hack. But then again I did just see a goat with angels wings flying to heaven, so who knows anything is possible.
January 10, 2011 — 9:49 AM
Anthony says:
This may be a topic of itself. If you get stuck in point 8 or 9, what signs should you look for, and how long do you think you should wait before trying an alternative venue, like say, self publishing. “This book isn’t marketable” “well, ok. I guess I’ll just e-book format it myself, and throw it up on Amazon for $2”.
Also, how do you know if you’re in #10? Sure, some people are deluded talentless hacks. But, some people are talentless hacks who are trying constantly, and being told they’re good by people who don’t want to hurt their feelings. A situation made worse when you consider that some people who will tell you you’re bad, are also way overly critical. basically, how do you find that middle spot where someone will truthfully tell you whats up? (if you know, and if you do you should probably patent the algorithm…)
January 10, 2011 — 9:55 AM
Marko Kloos says:
The novel I’m shopping around right now was the third one I wrote. The current WIP is #4. The first two are trunk novels. Funny how with each successive novel, you look at the previous ones with less and less charity:
(After completing #1) This is good! It’s ready to be published! I rite reel gud!
(After completing #2) Okay, this one kicks ass. #1 is still pretty good, but this one’s much better.
(After completing #3) Hey! This one rocks! #2 is still good. But #1? I can’t believe I ever thought that one was ready for prime time. Let’s trunk that one and move on.
(After completing #4) Best novel EVAR. #3 is still pretty good, though. #2, though…ugh. Now where did I put that trunk?
…and so on.
Also, there really should be a con for us deluded, talentless hacks. Call it ShitFest.
January 10, 2011 — 10:13 AM
M. McGriff says:
Love the brutal honesty! I think that’s a major reason why many people don’t get published. No one snaps them out of their delusion that their book is the most wonderful thing ever and therefore don’t need to put any more work into it. I’ve come across a few writers like that and it’s until someone gave them that brutal honesty did they at least take time out to really think about their work.
Then again, they might not – at least they can never say they weren’t warned!
January 10, 2011 — 10:24 AM
Heather says:
This should really come with a warning tag.
*Do not drink hot beverages while reading this post.*
Clean up on aisle 1.
After some self-flagellation I am now your humble follower.
January 10, 2011 — 10:41 AM
Stephen Blackmoore says:
I look at this as kind of like playing darts in a pub; drunk, blindfolded, lubed up and wearing a leather harness.
What, you don’t go to those sorts of places?
My point is that it’s not just skill but a certain amount of luck. Will it get to the right place at the right time and will the right person be there who can talk to the right people when they’re in the right mood while they’re looking for the right thing while you’re being the right person to give it to them.
Life has a greater chance on spontaneously appearing in the vast wastelands of Fresno than your book getting published. But it does happen.
There is a LOT of room for your book out there. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow (but soon and for the rest of your life… sorry). So if this one doesn’t sell maybe the next one will. Or the next or the next.
I can think of two things. Keep writing, and listen. You’re done with this book? Great! Write another one. Twenty people tell you it’s great (who aren’t your mother) keep trying to sell it.
Conversely, if twenty people tell you it’s crap you might want to listen to them. And if they can tell you WHY it’s crap, definitely listen to them. You might not agree with them, and they might be wrong. But then again they might not be.
Think of it this way, if you write ten novels and the tenth one sells I guarantee you can go back to those other nine and you’ll say, “Aha! THAT’S why this didn’t sell. And here’s what I can do to fix it.”
And when somebody says, “What else ya got?” you can whip one of them out and say, “Whatta ya think about vampire koalas?”
January 10, 2011 — 11:55 AM
Amber J. Gardner says:
You know the term, deer caught in the headlights? I’m the deer. I talk about how I’m going to be published and successful, I read the blogs, the articles, the writing books. I do everything but work on the actual work part. Yet I still have this stupid idea that I’m still going to be published one day and be really really good at it, cause I have really really good ideas….if I just wrote them down. But I don’t. Cause they probably suck. Or at least the writing is. Maybe I just don’t want to prove that my problem is #10 by avoiding writing and editing all together.
…It’s also probably a sign of #10 that I think the first book I wrote, after some heavy rewriting, can be a really good debut book. Maybe not the best ever! (it’s not the greatest story idea I’ve ever had that’s for sure), but something that can be published and have a successful decent little run.
January 10, 2011 — 12:12 PM
Monica says:
Sometimes books don’t get published and it has absolutely nothing to do with the author or the book. Luck and timing does have a little something to do with it, too. The key is to keep networking with people, be persistent, and then move on to writing the next book.
I do think that authors who go from “the big houses turned me down” to “I’m going to self-publish” are short-sighted. There are literally thousands of small and medium-size presses out there who would be happy to talk to you. Like any other product, you have to research your market thoroughly.
January 10, 2011 — 12:56 PM
terribleminds says:
Sometimes books don’t get published and it has absolutely nothing to do with the author or the book. Luck and timing does have a little something to do with it, too. The key is to keep networking with people, be persistent, and then move on to writing the next book.
I do think that authors who go from “the big houses turned me down” to “I’m going to self-publish” are short-sighted. There are literally thousands of small and medium-size presses out there who would be happy to talk to you. Like any other product, you have to research your market thoroughly.
@Monica —
On the first point: absolutely. Hence #9 on the list, as you well know.
On the second: I’m not comfortable saying that it’s short-sighted, exactly. Self-publishing has an upside and a downside. I’m a big fan of small and medium presses, no doubt (as evidenced by my nigh-constant love for Tyrus Books). I would gladly work with a small or medium press, and in fact, believe you probably get a lot more freedom and attention from them (though not money) than you might from the Big Six. That being said, self-publishing *may* afford you better money and, at the very least, it grants you an unprecedented measure of freedom as to how you handle your own material. It’s not for everybody, but it’s clearly for *somebody.* I’d urge caution and consideration, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it short-sighted.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 2:55 PM
Rima says:
“Fact remains, if you’re just a big ol’ douchey dickface, nobody’s going to want to touch you with a ten foot pole.”
I think this is a universal truth. I will have it tattooed to my ankle (it’ll wrap around twice).
I like brutal honesty. Unfortunately, like some other commenters, reading lists like these only make me all the more determined to succeed. Which *probably* means I’m a “deluded, talentless hack.” Or not. Only one way to find out.
January 10, 2011 — 1:00 PM
terribleminds says:
@Rima:
Which *probably* means I’m a “deluded, talentless hack.” Or not. Only one way to find out.
I’d argue that if this thought actually crosses your mind, then you’re probably not deluded. 🙂
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 2:50 PM
Katey says:
I just fell in love with this post. Holy shit.
January 10, 2011 — 1:28 PM
Kater Cheek says:
I agreed with everything up until #10. I hate the word “talent,” the way it’s always used.
For example, I’m an artist. Occasionally people will say, “Oh, I wish I were good at drawing, but I can’t draw a straight line. You’re lucky you’re so talented.” What they mean is, “that twenty years of practice and art education is for shit, everything you have comes from the magical talent fairy who touches you on the head when you’re sleeping.”
Maybe there is a quantifiable number called “talent” that you must have in order to succeed, but it’s not useful to believe this thing exists. It’s more useful to believe that everyone starts with a small amount which much be improved on. When you’re a beginner, if you’re starting at a “2” and your talented classmate is at an “8,” it may seem that they will succeed and you won’t. But even “8” isn’t enough “talent” to succeed. You need like 100, and you can’t get there without hard work. Okay, so maybe the one who starts at an 8 can eventually become 700, and you may top out at 350, but 350 is still better than 8.
No matter where you start, you will get better the more you write. And even if your “talent” is much smaller than the sheer genius of that dick who always brags, if you’re writing and reading and learning about writing, you’re probably going to surpass the “genius” who can talk the talk but can’t set his ass in the chair.
99% of the time, lack of talent won’t hold you back. In fact, having too much talent will teach you not to try as hard. The naturally gifted piano player learns that she doesn’t have to practice much to get praise. So even if you’re a talentless hack, who cares? If it’s meaningful to you, keep trying. No matter how slow you run, if you don’t stop, you will eventually get there.
Mediocrity + hard work + tenacity will go farther than feckless “talent” any day.
January 10, 2011 — 1:32 PM
terribleminds says:
@Kater:
I think ultimately we’re butting heads on a semantic issue, and ultimately, I agree: in-built, ingrained talent is not the end-all be-all, and it’s why I prefer to think of writing as a craft. Like carpentry, it’s a skill that can be taught and learned (and obviously I think so since, hey, I’ve got a blog half-devoted to writing advice).
That said, I think some writers just have… well, no hope. Part of that is because of delusion, part of it is because of some gauzy combo-pack of traits (laziness, lack of confidence, whathaveyou), and no matter how “hard” they work, they’ll never really get there.
Sad fact, but one I think is a reality.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 2:49 PM
Elizabeth says:
I like my brownies undercooked in the middle. Just saying.
I love to hear that you wrote 4 cruddy novels. It’s disheartening, but totally supports what I believe: Novel writing is like anything else in like, the first time you do it, you suck at it. So if I ever want to be successful at it I need to GET OFF MY ASS AND DO IT 1000 TIMES.
January 10, 2011 — 1:35 PM
McDroll says:
I like my brownies gooey in the middle…otherwise, as usual you are spot on. Could also be used for other aspects of life too, not just getting a book published…
January 10, 2011 — 1:36 PM
Kristen Lamb says:
LOVE IT!!!! You must get so tired of hearing me gush and go all fangirl (I threw panties at ur blog but they just bounced off the screen :D). This is excellent. I believe hubris is the biggest reason most writers will never get published. They are too prideful to admit that writing is a craft that needs to be studied, learned, and practiced. They are too full of their own brilliance to look to others as experts….because they know everything.
I spent a couple of years as a know-it-all jackass and I took some hard blows to the ego that woke me up to the smell of my own stinking ego. When I finally got some humility then I really began to grow.
Thanks so much for this blog. It is great to get to learn and laugh at loud.
January 10, 2011 — 1:37 PM
Ben says:
You’re making an early season run for best writing on the internet.
January 10, 2011 — 2:00 PM
Patricia Beaudin says:
I love number 10! Made me giggle. (It was good advice too.)
PS I lurve gooey brownies, it’s the only way to eat them. Now cake, cake needs to be cooked or it turned into a crater that you have to fill with frosting…. Hmmm that doesn’t sound bad either. Damn. We need a new food comparison!
January 10, 2011 — 2:43 PM
terribleminds says:
Damn you people and your love of gooshy brownies. YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING.
Okay, not so much. 🙂
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 2:45 PM
Dabir Dalton says:
Your failed to list the most important reason most men will never get published no matter how great their novel happens to be and that is the LACE CURTAIN. As long as the job of reading a manuscript to see if is good enough for publication is held by females unless a writer caters to the female audience he will not get published under any circumstances. Which is the reason the majority of men like myself are voting as a group and as individuals with both their feet and wallets by no longer reading the books or watching movies and television shows that cater to the female audience.
January 10, 2011 — 3:10 PM
terribleminds says:
I smell troll musk.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 3:16 PM
Amber J. Gardner says:
@Dabir …Are you serious?
January 10, 2011 — 3:24 PM
Kate Haggard says:
@Dabir
Dude, you’re not even a good troll.
January 10, 2011 — 3:27 PM
AmyLikesToDraw says:
*blink, blink”
January 10, 2011 — 3:28 PM
Stephen Blackmoore says:
All right, I’ll bite, cause I’m the kind of guy who tosses grenades into bonfires just to see what happens.
What do you have to back up your claims, Dabir?
January 10, 2011 — 3:31 PM
Adam Christophe says:
Great post, as always, and right on the money. As always!
Regarding point 6, I think there is a fascinating discussion surrounding the concept of genre and genre marketing. I do agree that it’s important, and that there are a lot of publishers, agents, marketeers and salespeople who put a very great weight on this (sometimes to the point of obsession, as I discovered at a convention last year during which one panel progressed to Very Loud Voices and Grumpy Looks as one guest went on a little bit about how only books which fit into very strict [and very few] genre categories can ever be successful).
However, there’s another angle to this as well. I’d argue that genre classification doesn’t matter – or at least doesn’t always matter. It depends on what you’re writing (which kinda contradicts what I’m saying already), and it also depends on the publisher, editor, agent, etc. But so long as it’s all on that big “Science Fiction and Fantasy” shelf in the bookstore, does it really matter? I talked about it over at Angry Robot Books a while back, which you can find here:
http://angryrobotbooks.com/2010/06/the-big-magic-shelf/
January 10, 2011 — 3:33 PM
terribleminds says:
(Recommended read by Adam — good talk about genre, subgenre, and the muddiness thereof.)
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 3:33 PM
Sean says:
I think your reply about writing being a craft that can be taught is spot on. The ‘talent’ portion can come into play, but far more at the positive end of the spectrum than the negative. Meaning; if you are insightful, and have a good command of the language etc, then your best work will be very good. Whereas, if you lack the talent, hard work, study, and mimicry will allow you to be, if not stellar, at least successful. There are always niches out there, like say.. vampire fiction, that have less than stellar authors, doing less than stellar work, and still making a living.
January 10, 2011 — 3:42 PM
Marko Kloos says:
Hey, Dabir…whatever helps you get over the sting of having your stuff rejected. Much easier to blame teh wimminz editors than it is to admit to yourself that your novel didn’t find a buyer because it sucks big rocks off the ground.
January 10, 2011 — 3:44 PM
Cyndi Tefft says:
Damn, this is funny. Sad and painfully true, but like medicine with sugar. And crack.
“Shepherding a novel to publication is like threading a needle. Blind. On a moving train. While you’re being attacked by monkeys with sticks. Good times.”
I would have made it if it weren’t for the damn monkeys.
January 10, 2011 — 4:05 PM
Kate @ Candlemark says:
You pretty much hit the nail on the head here, with why things don’t get published. Especially the bits about “you are not a special snowflake, follow the damn instructions” and “don’t be a dick.”
Seriously, acquiring editors like me only have so much time. We ask for you to follow certain formats and procedures for a reason – so we can track and read your query/sample and get back to you in a reasonable amount of time. If you don’t follow the rules, you clearly didn’t care enough to READ THE DAMN RULES, and you’re going to be MISERABLE to work with on edits and during publication, even if your book is a heartbreaking work of staggering genius. So odds are, you ain’t gettin’ published.
I’m more willing to take risks on genre-bending or “non-marketable” stuff than a lot of publishers are, but then again, I’m a tiny little startup press, not one of the Big Boys, so I don’t really count there.
…I’d love to get some vampire koalas turning up in the slush pile, though. Bring it on, man.
January 10, 2011 — 4:14 PM
Todd McDonald says:
I see a stack of unfinished pavers behind those goats! Get to work… Stuart Woods spoke much to this effect at our local library last year. It is real easy to get published if you write something that will sell. Publishers are SCREAMING for marketable writers. Stuart is forced to publish 2 per year despite the reality that he can only write one good one….
January 10, 2011 — 4:37 PM
Greg says:
Great article. I’ve enjoyed reading your articles on self-publishing and that versus going the traditional route.
I’ve written two complete manuscripts, and am about a quarter of the way through a third. As long as the agents tell me “not interested” I just keep working to make the manuscripts better. I’m constantly seeking feedback, and no, not just from family members. The smart thing for writers to do is to monitor blogs like this one as well as those run by literary agents and publishers, while looking for discerning readers to pore over their drafts.
I don’t agree with an earlier reply about self-publishing being shortsighted. Sounds like something an agent would say, nothing more than a thinly-veiled lamentation on where the market is going — away from THEM.
Rock on,
Greg in O-Town
January 10, 2011 — 5:10 PM
Dabir Dalton says:
@ Marko and Terrible Minds: Spoken like a true mangina.
@ Amber and Kate: Yes I am. The lace curtain is a fact that has led to the feminization of the syfy network, book publishers and other media that has fueled the drop in the male audience and falling numbers of male readers.
Because of the war on the male gender promoted by feminists through the media and our political and judicial systems I personally will no longer spend my hard earned money on a female author. And as long as I have access to the internet I have no need of a publisher to publish my writings. Since I only write what I want to write instead of what someone else wants me to write. In other words I write because I love to write and don’t have the need to please anyone else but myself which means that I don’t have to prostitute myself to a publisher in order to get published.
January 10, 2011 — 5:16 PM
terribleminds says:
@Dabir:
Doing a little research, I see you’re the kind of troll that advocates things like, oh, abusing women.
http://howard53545.wordpress.com/2009/02/09/chris-brown-slugged-rhinna/#comment-7067
One assumes that given your apparent misogyny and your unique name that this would be you, shaking the reeds to get attention.
Well-done. Attention earned.
But let it be earned no more. Post again, I’ll delete.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 6:20 PM
Sarah W says:
For severed heads?
Maaaaybe. Will that get me a book deal?
No, seriously, more as an insulated writing-suit (snowflakes are round and fit into bags, and never mind, my metaphors need work). I’m in it for the long haul, even if the publishing world makes me the #10 poster child.
Which should definitely get me a book deal.
January 10, 2011 — 5:40 PM
Stephen Blackmoore says:
@Dabir. Good to know I won’t run into you on the bookshelves then. Good luck with that.
Oh, I’ll ask again. What you had to back your assertions? Can you point to numbers, hard examples rather than hearsay?
January 10, 2011 — 5:56 PM
justin says:
I am guilty of eleven of these.
January 10, 2011 — 8:06 PM
Angela Perry says:
I love this blog. I’ve read similar checklists dozens of times, but none of them used goats nearly as effectively. Or disturbing imagery. It’s the little things that stick with you.
And you get trolls too! Lucky. I’ve heard of penis envy, but never hoo-ha envy.
@Dabir – I’m a woman, neener neener. That’s right. In your face. Workin’ it, workin’ it…
*looks around* Okay, I’m done now 🙂
January 10, 2011 — 9:07 PM
terribleminds says:
@Angela:
As you are a woman, I am obligated to inform you that you are apparently an oppressor of maledom. A squasher of all things penis-ish.
Or, y’know, not. 🙂
And never fear, I will be sure to insert goats into my blog whenever I am able. It feels like my duty.
— c.
January 10, 2011 — 9:09 PM
KD Sarge says:
#6, man. But what can I do? That straightforward stuff doesn’t interest me!
I could write YA–you can genre-blend all you like in YA and still call it YA it seems–but I just can’t quite make the YA standards. (Swearing must be meaningful. Or thematic. Something like that. My librarian friend told me so. Sigh.)
January 10, 2011 — 9:40 PM
Stephen Blackmoore says:
“A squasher of all things penis-ish.”
Ya know, I can think of a whole lotta guys who would pay good cash money for that sort of thing. This is L.A. after all.
@KD I personally think the question about genre is a useless one. First off… I’ve been drinking. So take this for what it’s worth.
Second, it’s about marketing, how they’re going to bill you, where they’re going to put you. My book’s going into urban fantasy. I thought it was horror. Maybe crime. Both really, but apparently that makes it urban fantasy. Who knew?
Neither my agent nor I did until it hit a publisher that put that out. Then it all made sense.
Sort of. I’m still not sure how I technically ended up as a fantasy writer.
My point, and I do have one, is that it’s not worth worrying about. Genre crossing is becoming more and more prevalent. Yes, they want a label to put onto it, and it helps to have a label when you’re talking to them.
If it’s contemporary, call it urban fantasy. Victorian, call it steampunk. Any other era, pick a technology and toss -punk on the end of it and you’re good to go.
Diesel-punk, rocket-punk, stick-punk… something. Or Paranormal [Fill in the blank]
Yes, I’m joking, but on one level I’m not.
Genre cross-overs are becoming the norm. I was on a panel over the summer at Westercon on crossing genres with Seanan McGuire and Tim Powers and one of the things that came up was that none of us knew exactly what genre to call what we wrote while we were writing it.
Powers’ response was probably the best one, though may not be useful in this context. “I write the sort of thing that Locus reviews.”
What I’d recommend, ask somebody. Find someone whose opinion you trust, have them read it and ask them what shelf in the bookstore they’d put it.
They’ll probably be right.
January 10, 2011 — 10:11 PM
Amber J. Gardner says:
Rats! Saw right through me!
That’s right! It’s true. I did plan to write books/movies in the sci-fi/fantasy/action genre with stronger roles for women, meaning more women as main protag/antag and with different races/sexuality too. But…I thought men would enjoy exotic lesbian women kicking ass. Ah well.
At least now we know that #5 is a real problem and will keep you unpublished.
This is my favorite blog post to date. It’s so entertaining even the responses are funny.
January 10, 2011 — 10:28 PM
Georgia Woods says:
Hear. Hear. Excellent.
January 11, 2011 — 3:18 AM