For a while, I was really hesitant to call myself a feminist.

Not because I dismissed the idea of feminism or the cause of feminism or the history that is baked into the movement — but because I didn’t feel like it was a title that I had earned. I didn’t feel like it was my space to share. I didn’t feel like a very good feminist, really — I got things wrong then, still get them wrong now. I still possess the privilege that comes with being male and sometimes that means my privilege blinds me to behaviors or language that can be hurtful (not merely offensive, which I accept and embrace, but hurtful, which by my mileage works to diminish and damage others). And so it felt a bit fakey-fakey, like I was a heathen in a church pulpit, a meat-eater at a vegan restaurant. I thought, oh, you’ve actually struggled with the mantle of feminism. Me, it’s no struggle at all. I can waltz in, put on the hat and the nametag, give a couple of thumbs-up and boom, FEMINIST. It costs me nothing. It’s so easy. Too easy.

I was more comfortable calling myself an ally, then — as if I was a member of another nation entirely willing to support your nation’s coalition. “Yes, of course I’ll vote for that,” I say from my mountaintop lair at in the capital of Mansylvania. “Please place your feminist agenda in front of me and I will rubber-stamp it. Whatever you need, please, consider me your ally.”

But that’s horseshit, really.

Not the part where I support feminism, but the part where I consider myself separate from it.

Because of course I’m not separate from it. (And this is where I ask you to forgive those dudes who suddenly figure it out by extending their empathy to those women around them — mothers, daughters, wives. This is their first step into realizing that they’re not separate, that they’re part of it. Be gentle with them and give them time to see that it’s not just about their own family and friends but extends out to everybody, to all women. Empathy is not always immediate and far-reaching, and sometimes it starts with those closest to you.)

Emma Watson gave a resonant, heart-struck speech about feminism at the UN (the entire text of that speech can be found here), and made it very clear that gender inequality was an issue for men, too. She threaded the inequalities that affect men into the inequalities women face, and made feminism an overall human issue. Feminism through that lens isn’t just about being pro-woman, but also about correcting the overall imbalance — because though men have privilege, the wibbly-wonky gender imbalance affects men, too.

(Disproportionately, I’ll add, which is why it’s still called feminism.)

The correction of the imbalance isn’t about bringing men down, but lifting women up.

So, let’s just put this right here:

I am a feminist.

Not just an ally — though, I am that, too. But a feminist.

Not always a perfect one. Certainly not the one you asked for. But here I am.

*waves*

I think it’s also worth noting that these are the things I believe about women and feminism:

I think that when Emma Watson offers what is ostensibly the most male-inclusive version of feminism we have yet seen, that she’ll still have her outfit critiqued, she’ll still have threats against her (some of which are apparently a marketing hoax made believable because of the toxic realities behind women speaking up for themselves), and there will still be a countermovement called #SheForHe (which is itself tied into the Women Against Feminism movement, which is a movement that makes me very sad in the same way disbelieving in evolution — the awesome force that got us here! — makes me sad).

I think male privilege is real. I think it’s imperfect and not absolute, but that doesn’t change its reality — male privilege is ever-present and difficult to deny.

I think that privilege is blinding.

I think there are real issues affecting men, and that doesn’t diminish the need for feminism.

I think that rape culture is real. I think that rape culture is a passive frequency — background noise — that opens the door to (and softens or eradicates the punishment against) misogyny and assault and the destruction of safety for women. I suspect that some deny the existence of rape culture because they misunderstand it as being active. As in, “If I’m not actively promoting rape, then clearly a culture of it doesn’t exist.” But they miss how so many subtle, unseen, unrealized things contribute to that culture: in our language, in our expectations, in the media we consume.

I think that #GamerGate, the celebrity nude photo hack, #NotAllMen all serve as negative resistance to real positive cultural change (the dinosaurs snarling at the meteor, the wasps stirred before winter wipes them out) but that this resistance is still dangerous and must be addressed.

I think that feminism is a many-headed, many-hearted movement. Feminists don’t all get together in a room once a year to determine the agenda for the next 365 days.

I think that’s a good thing, not a bad thing. As noted: many hearts and many minds.

I think that it’s not a man’s job to be a hero for the feminist movement but, rather, to help them be the heroes — it’s not our job to hold the sword and protect them but to put the swords in their hands. Not knights, perhaps, but squires. Or maybe knights in service to queens? (Or maybe medieval framing and phrasing is a troubled road no matter how well you walk it. All I know is that there are nasty dragons out there and I want to help you slay them.)

I think it’s more important for men to listen than it is for them to speak on the subject of feminism. (And I recognize the irony here — I’m using the blog to speak, but the blog acts as a much better mouth than it does an ear. But I promise, I am listening. This blog is a direct result of me listening — and, as Anita Sarkeesian notes, me believing your experiences are real.)

I think it’s more important for men to signal boost than it is for them to take over the signal.

(But I also think it’s vital for men to be a part of that signal, too.)

I think a lot of this begins with teaching our kids this stuff — yes, I know, blah blah blah children are our future, but seriously, this is critical if we’re to overturn a lot of the nastiness that’s been institutionalized, that’s been stamped into the mud of our history with hard boots.

But I think we must also be active in social media, in politics, with family, with friends.

I think that it’s very easy to dismiss feminism and claim egalitarianism instead, but realize that the two are not mutually exclusive — and, by denying feminism, you misunderstand that the imbalance here is particularly and troublingly one-sided.

I think that most Men’s Rights Movements talk very little about men’s rights and seem to be peculiarly focused on diminishing women, instead.

I think watching a dude mansplain feminism to a feminist woman is really uncomfortable (WELL LITTLE LADY, SOMETHING SOMETHING EQUALITY TAMPONS, ABORTION SUFFRAGE, LADY PARTS, RAPE ALLEGATIONS, BUT NO REALLY, BUT WHAT ABOUT ME AND MY NEEDS). I think watching men mansplain feminism is like watching climate deniers explain the climate to climatologists, or watching non-parents explain how to parent (or worse, how to parent an autistic child). And again I recognize the irony: this post probably reads like me mansplaining things, but I assure you that at the very least my intentions are not to explain facts about women to women but rather to give voice to some ideas and hope that other men might listen.

I think men get championed for being feminists and women get taken apart for being feminists and that’s sad, though I don’t know what I can do about it except signal boost and support and battle the fungal rot of male privilege and dudebro toxicity where it lives and breeds.

I think FUCK YEAH SOCIAL JUSTICE. Anybody who wants to poison that term — “social justice” — might as well try to poison other nice things like apples, or cake, or equal pay, or autumn. I am happy to be a social justice equal pay cake apple autumn warrior. YOU HAVE MY STEEL.

I think that pop culture is a vital arena for feminism. Because pop culture is the media we consume and we are what we eat when it comes to that cultural diet. I think if it’s in the water and the food (so to speak), it’ll grow from there. The stories we tell are the cultural seed-bed.

I think as writers and creators its therefore doubly important we think about these things.

I think male writers should think about them, talk about them, and act on them, too.

I think that means reading more diversely and writing more diversely, too. A balanced diet is good for us all. You can have a cookie, but you also have to eat some kale. (And you’ll soon discover that kale is actually pretty fucking amazing if cooked right, so shut up.)

I think that empathy and logic make a powerful one-two punch.

I think it’s getting better.

But I think we can all do better, too.

I don’t think it gets better on its own, is what I’m saying.

And so that’s why I’m here. Saying these things.

I want it to get better for women and I want to be a part of making it so.

And thus, I’m lending my voice — small as it may be, wrong as it can be — to feminism.

I am a feminist.

I am #HeForShe.

And so should you be.

Branding.

It’s a vital component to your burgeoning authordom.

Without it? You’re basically just a regular person. Wandering the clearance racks at K-Mart, mumbling to yourself, giving off an odor of desperation (which smells like cat pee, so sometimes if you’re in an old house and you smell cat pee, you think, ooh, somebody has cats here, but the truth is there might instead be an unrecognized, unbranded writer living there, which means YOUR LIFE IS IN DANGER, GET OUT NOW, THE WRITER IS WRITING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE).

Branding is the keystone to your authorial strategy. Branding is even more important than actually writing. How will you know what to write if you have not branded yourself or been branded by outside entities? You’ll just be pinballing from genre to genre, format to format, like an old man lost at the mall trying to find his wife that died fifteen years before. “Martha?” you’ll bleat into the cavernous, plastic-stinking sad-cave that is an American Eagle Outfitters. And people will throw plastic hangers at you to make you go away. That’s you. An unbranded writer.

But today? Today we’re going to fix that.

It’s time to get you branded.

1. Envision What You Can Consistently Bring To The World

Think about your favorite brands.

McDonald’s — it’s the same delicious gray Meatt™ patty every time. Pressed seductively between two ancient couch pillows, and slathered with ketchup, mustard, a pickle, and other mystery unguents. That burger? It never changes.

All-Bran cereal? A basket of twigs and potpourri meant to maximize your intestinal fortitude. Wal-Mart? Plastic goods from foreign nations and also, bullets — all placed on shelves by hard-working, woefully underpaid Americans. Lexus? Automotive beauty and elegance, so beautiful and so elegant that Lexus drivers don’t even see people who might be driving, say, a dumb old Hyundai Elantra, or a is-that-even-a-real-car-who-buys-those Chevy Cruze.

These brands offer a consistent experience. Unchanging. Unswerving. Never faltering or altering themselves. People want that when they read your work. They want to know that every time they pick up a book, it’s the same thing every time. Comfort in constancy. The enduring power of enduring. Can you imagine if Chevrolet started making fruit snacks? Or if McDonald’s started to sell jetpacks? Or if Apple started holding Amish barn-raisings? It would be madness in the streets. The ululations of the bewildered. Blood. Blood! Pouring from their face-holes and other holes.

Basically: the apocalypse.

Brands are what keep the world united. Brands are the lens through which we glimpse our reality.

What does that mean for you, Dearest Writer? It means finding that same level of eternal consistency. It means: the same length book. Same characters or tropes of characters. Covers by the same artist. And, of course: same genre.

2. Determine The Genre In Which You Will Forever Write

You must pick a genre early on. Because once you have chosen the genre in which you will write, it will be your prison home until your body hits the dirt. I mean, can you imagine what happens if you start writing in science-fiction, and then — whuh, pfft, buh — you start writing in fantasy? Oh! Oh ho ho ho, this is my incredulous face. The very thought makes me red-cheeked and rageful. You can’t do that. You can’t. You’d be — you’d have soiled yourself with chaos. Your readers, all twelve of them, will find you and they will tear you apart in the street like the distempered dog that you have become. Trust me —

Choose your genre now and stick with it.

Even better: choose a microscopic subgenre that you will claim as your own. Find a literary niche that has no competition at all. From our research here at the Terribleminds Marketing Institute (TMI), we have found that the following subgenres are as-yet-unclaimed by any writers.

• Yarnpunk

• Lovecraftian middle-grade romance

• Haunted barns

• Geriatric BDSM space opera

• Epic shenanigans

• Horse porn

• Picaresque lesbian cyborg sestinas

• Preborn noir

• Books for “Dave”

Move fast! Stake your claim.

3. Obtain A Home Run Author Photo That Demonstrates Your Brand

Your author photo is everything.

Everything.

People need to recognize you. On the back of your books. On the street. At that little corner cafe you frequent where you buy those lingonberry scones you seem to like so much. Through the front windows of your Victorian house at 1456 Franklin Court.

Everywhere.

And, even more importantly, your author photo must speak to the consistent experience you’re offering your readers. Does it reflect your genre? Does it exhibit the themes and characters you have chosen? Can a potential reader look to your author photo and instantly recognize, “Ah, he writes science-fiction. You can see the starships twinkling in his eyes behind those very large eyeglasses, ha ha ha, that nerd. Book-keep! Give me all of his books and give them now!”

What message will your author photo send?

Let’s consider my various author photos and what message they send.

See? A consistent message contained as a visual timeline. Dependable. Homogenous.

Strong brand identity approved by a focus group for full monolithic market integration.

Want negative examples? Consider this awkward author photo contest!

4. Get Thee To The Social Medias

You have to get on the social medias. The Twitters. The Facebooks. The LinkedIns. Grindr, whatever that is. You need to get on all of them. You need to root your presence there. Use the social medias to establish a beachhead that demonstrates a logical, coherent personal branding strategy (PBS). Buy followers from various seedy Internet robots. Do not even begin to write your book until you have at least 10,000 followers across the social medias marketscape. Use the social medias to speak to your target market. Be a trendsetter and then follow the trends you set. Use hashtags, which means before you write a social media status update, you write the word “hashtag” before the update. (Example: “Hashtag, I saw a great movie today it was really super.” Or, “Hashtag, I killed a man and ate his face lol”) In fact, say ‘lol’ a lot. It lets people know you’re loose and fun. Unless that’s not your brand. But it should be your brand because who likes writers who are stiff and unfriendly? Nobody. Nobody likes those writers.

When tweetbooking, consider: user segmentation, packaging design, the OEM market, the freestanding literary intangibles, logical endorsement extensions by known authorial brandchannels, and other quintessential branding terms.

5. Assign Yourself A Personal Mission Statement

Who are you? Who are you, really?

You need a Personal Mission Statement (PMS). A motto. A logline. A branding tagline so that people know who you are exactly and what precisely they will be getting by choosing to follow you on the social medias and what happens when they buy your book-products. Consider branding yourself with the following slogans (and note that some of these can be sung to a catchy jingle):

“Narrative architect with strong thematic harmonization.”

“Da da da da da, I’m writin’ it!”

“With a name like [insert your name here], it’s gotta be good!”

“Cats cats cats!”

“I put the ‘oo’ in book! And the AW YEAH in author!”

“For a good time, call [insert your phone number here].”

“I killed a man and ate his face lol”

6. Pick Ten Google Keywords For Maximum SEO

The Internet is everything. If you’re not on the Internet, you’re not a real person. You’re basically just a bear. A sad bear that nobody knows. And these days, you don’t just need to be on the Internet, but you also need to be at the very top of the Internet, so that everyone can see you. If they can’t see you, you won’t sell any bookproducts or word-widgets. The way you climb to the top of the Internet and gain vital brand awareness is through SEO, which stands for Self Experience Optimization. Okay, that might not be right? Maybe it stands for Service Economics O… Onus… Opus… Origimental… you know what? It doesn’t matter. Who cares what it stands for? What matters is that you have it.

Here’s how you do it: you pick ten words that emblemize you. These ten words will concretize your brand and cement you into the asphalt of the Infosuper Cyberhighway and thus create top-of-mind awareness across All the Internet.

You should choose words that embody the experience you offer readers.

These ten words might be: “romance,” “undulating,” “over-the-pants,” “tumescent,” “peppy,” “zesty,” “salad-eater,” “wordsmith,” “sexxx” and “hashtag.”

Feeling stuck? Try a random word generator!

7. Determine Your Authorial Imago

You need to think Big Picture. Blue Sky. You need to take the 30,000 foot view. A 21st century author needs 21st century thinking. And you need to think of your imago. What is the idealized mental image of yourself? Is it a buff rad bro with sweet guns and oil-slick pecs? Is it a cool sexy librarian with devil wings and a pair of sexy katanas? Maybe it’s just a color. Or a favorite tree. Or a celebrity you’ve always admired, like one of the many Kardashian entities that have descended to our plane of existence after draining their home-world of its vigor and turning it into a howling, gibbering painscape! Envision your imago, and then apply all branding strategies toward it. Invoke your ideal self. Build your author platform from the illusions and deceptions you possess about yourself. As we say here at TMI — “Fake it until you make it!” Ha ha ha.

8. Connect With Others Inside Your Tightly-Regulated, Poorly-Oxygenated Niche

Inside this gray-walled half-lit prison in which you have placed yourself, you will find other invigorated souls motivated by marketing identity alignment (or MIA), all of whom are trapped eager to remain here in this well-positioned perception map. What that means is, it’s time to network. Share strategies! Buy each other’s bookproducts! Give massages and get massages in return. And if you find other authors who are attempting to occupy the same mindshare as you, stab them many times with one of your sexy katanas and remind the rest of your fellow authors that your brand is your brand and nobody can take it from you or you’ll ideate their bottom-holes with your vertically-integrated size ten boot.

9. Design A Logo That Will Be Literally Burned Onto Your Face Or Torso

All brands are exemplified by great logos. The golden arches! The Target bullseye! The snorting cyclopean dong-horned bull of Big Dan Don’s Dildo Emporium and Buttplug Barn. Consider what your visual calling card will be. A rocketship? Perhaps a funny animal. Maybe a sigil of the elder Kardashian that plans to use your blood and bones as reagents for its grim otherworldly alchemy.

Once you have chosen a logo, literally brand it onto your flesh. (That’s where the term ‘brand’ comes from!) Sear it into your meat so as to let everyone know — and to remind yourself from time to time, ha ha ha — just who you really are.

And who you must always be.

10. Build Your Audience

It’s time to build your audience. A tribe of people. Followers. Friends. Slaves. Sycophants. Cultists who embrace your ways and abhor all that is not you. Blood-caked acolytes who will read your books as if they are holy texts, written in stone and forever unchanging. It’s okay if they’re not real people. That’s why we use the phrase build. Consider scarecrows. Or people made out of vulture bones and mop handles. If you build the fake people, the real ones will come. Or you can kidnap them from your social medias! Once you have an acceptable audience of at least 1000 people who never want you to change and who will buy whatever bookproducts you cobble together, take them all to a distant island where you can live in changeless peace and eternal branding for the rest of your known existence. Also, here are some shock collars in case anybody decides to suffer a case of the I’m Specials. YOU CANNOT DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO GODDAMNIT DO NOT DARE DEFY THE COMMANDMENTS YOU HAVE BEEN BRANDED IF YOU LEAVE THE ISLAND YOU WILL BE SHOT BY HELICOPTER SNIPERS AS IF YOU ARE A COMMON CUR

Ahem.

Anyway!

Now, go and write.

Or don’t. It doesn’t matter! You’re branded now, baby! A human Powerpoint presentation!

* * *

500 Ways To Write Harder aims to deliver a volley of micro-burst idea bombs and advisory missiles straight to your frontal penmonkey cortex. Want to learn more about writing, storytelling, publishing, and living the creative life? This book contains a high-voltage dose of information about outlining, plot twists, writer’s block, antagonists, writing conferences, self-publishing, and more.

All this, straight from the sticky blog pages of terribleminds.com, one of the 101 Best Websites for Writers (as named by Writer’s Digest).

Buy ($2.99) at:

Amazon

B&N

Direct from terribleminds

Or: Part of a seven book $20 bundle!

It’s banned books week.

This is not about that, not exactly, not really much at all, but just the same, I wanted to ask two questions. Two questions about your taste in books and how they relate to the taste of others.

1.) What book do you love that other people seem to hate?

2.) What book do you hate that other people seem to love?

I don’t just want names and authors listed — I’d love to hear your reasons.

And this isn’t meant to start a war on taste or to suggest in any way that Your Opinions Are Wrong, but rather, quite the opposite — to see how one reader’s Holy Bible is another reader’s cup of Hot Barf. It’s meant to show how our tastes in books wildly deviate, how the norm is rarely the norm, how we all get to love and not love things and that has to be okay.

So. Two questions.

Let’s hear your answers.

Last week was the second part of the continuing story challenge — this week?

It’s time to bring it to a close.

Go. Find a story that already has two parts written.

Now, complete it with a final 500 words.

Choose a story you have not yet helped to write.

Post the first and second parts together with your concluding climax at your blog or other online space, and do so by next Friday, noon EST.

Have fun with it.

So endeth your mission!

Nineteenth century London is the center of a vast British Empire, a teeming metropolis where steam-power is king and airships ply the skies, and where Queen Victoria presides over three quarters of the known world—including the east coast of America, following the failed revolution of 1775.Young Gideon Smith has seen things that no green lad of Her Majesty’s dominion should ever experience. Through a series of incredible events Gideon has become the newest Hero of the Empire. But Gideon is a man with a mission, for the dreaded Texas pirate Louis Cockayne has stolen the mechanical clockwork girl Maria, along with a most fantastical weapon—a great brass dragon that was unearthed beneath ancient Egyptian soil. Maria is the only one who can pilot the beast, so Cockayne has taken girl and dragon off to points east.Gideon and his intrepid band take to the skies and travel to the American colonies hot on Cockayne’s trail. Not only does Gideon want the machine back, he has fallen in love with Maria. Their journey will take them to the wilds of the lawless lands south of the American colonies—to free Texas, where the mad King of Steamtown rules with an iron fist (literally), where life is cheap and honor even cheaper.Does Gideon have what it takes to not only save the day but win the girl?

IT’S ALWAYS GOOD TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE PISSING ON

This is true in all things, especially if you decide to relieve yourself after several pints of strong, Continental lager near a live railway line. But it’s especially true of history. Gideon Smith is billed as an alternate history series, which means I look at what happened in real life and then make loads of stuff up that didn’t happen, and which change the course of what did. The second book in the series, Gideon Smith and the Brass Dragon, is set largely in America – in this timeline the American Revolution never happened, Britain still controls New York and Boston and some points south and west. There’s a breakaway Japanese faction on the West Coast, and what we know as Mexico is still New Spain. I made all this stuff up and my editor at Tor, Claire Eddy, wanted to know how it all worked. So I had to take a crash course in US history, ably assisted by Claire and a pal going back a way, Grant Balfour, who told me all the stuff that happened and let me know whether what I wanted to happen really could have. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert now, but I learned a lot of things I hadn’t known before. You’re quite interesting, you Yanks. Anyone ever told you that

SOME PEOPLE LOVE STEAMPUNK. SOME PEOPLE HATE IT. I MEAN REALLY, REALLY HATE IT.

Up there I described the Gideon Smith series as alternate history. It’s set in the 1890s. It has advanced (for the era) steam-powered technology. It has airships. It has a girl who’s largely clockwork powered. So, you might say, if it walks like a steampunk duck, it quacks like a steampunk duck, then it’s pretty much a steampunk duck, right? Well, if you like. The thing is, I meet a lot of people in the SF community who really, really hate steampunk. They think it’s some cretinous cousin of “proper” SF. I’m not a great one for labels on books – I tend to divide them into “good” and “not so great”. But I understand the need for marketing and sales types to pigeonhole a book. Thing is, I try to just write good stories. I think a lot of people who are into SF who say they hate steampunk are missing out on some good stories. Mine, specifically. An addendum: I went to steampunk festival last year. At last, I thought, people who are going to get the book. I’d say 80 per cent of those in goggles and top hats who walked past my books said something along the lines of: “Yeah, I love steampunk, me. Don’t really read books, though.” Go figure.

STRAIGHT WHITE BLOKES NEED TO WORK HARDER.

I am a white, straight male from a working class Northern English background now doing a job and living a lifestyle that is probably filed under “Middle Class”. My unconscious default position – and I hate this, I really do – is to make my characters straight, white males. That’s not always how they end up, but when I come up with a new character what flashes into my mind is a white man (unless, of course, they’re obviously not white, or a man). This is not acceptable, and I know that. So I have to work a little harder at thinking about who that character is and who they should be, and what they’re going to do. Looking back at the first book, Gideon Smith and the Mechanical Girl, I could probably have done better at this. I’m not saying diversity in SF should be a box-ticking exercise, but I do need to question my initial ideas about characters, which I try to force myself to do. Now it’s like a new-born character is a white, straight male golem made of mud when they first pop into my head, but what they become on the written page is hopefully a little more representative.

“MY NAME IS GIDEON SMITH. YOU MIGHT KNOW ME FROM SUCH ADVENTURES AS…”

This is my first attempt at writing a series. It was quite a steep learning curve in terms of making sure the second book is a standalone novel that, conceivably, anyone who hadn’t read the first one (I’m looking at you here. And you. And you.) could pick up and enjoy without needing to know what had gone before. It was quite interesting working out how to bring readers up to speed with the first story without getting in the way of what happens in the book they’re holding. It’s also been interesting to take the characters on to further development, while still leaving room for more in book three (yes! There is a book three!). I’ve written a couple of other novels before, but at the end of them I generally left my main characters dead or gibbering wrecks. So it’s nice to give characters space to grow and thinking about their future development.

 PEOPLE DON’T NEED TO KNOW HOW A STEAM-ENGINE WORKS TO ENJOY THE BOOKS.

I read widely, and I read plenty. I read books where people drive cars and take plane journeys. I don’t particularly know too much about the workings of the internal combustion engine or what lift is required to get a 747 off the ground, and I don’t really require that in the fiction I’m reading unless it’s absolutely pertinent to the plot. Thus, in Gideon’s Victorian world, there are airships and steam-omnibuses and a mechanical girl with a human brain. You don’t really need to know how this stuff works, do you? People there take it for granted. So should you. OK, so in the first book there’s quite a bit about just how a clockwork woman can have a human brain and be half-alive, but the book is called Gideon Smith and the Mechanical Girl, so hopefully it was quite useful information. But I still don’t really know how a steam engine works, and don’t plan on infodumping that on my readers anytime soon.

* * *

David Barnett is an author and journalist based in the north of England. Tor Books in the US and Snowbooks in the UK have published the first two books of his Gideon Smith series – Gideon Smith and the Mechanical Girl (September 2013) and Gideon Smith and the Brass Dragon (September 2014). A third, Gideon Smith and the Mask of the Ripper, is out in September 2015. He is married to Claire and they have two children, Charlie and Alice. He’s represented by the agent John Jarrold.

David Barnett: Website | Twitter

Gideon Smith And The Brass Dragon: Amazon | B&N | Indiebound | Powells

Hey! It’s Beth Cato! Beth Cato, one of the tacolytes at the Holy Taco Church! Beth Cato, the high priestess of churromancy who will give you a recipe for stuffed churro nuggets. (Confession: my nickname at pro wrestling camp was “Stuffed Churro Nuggets.”) Beth Cato, author of brand spanking new novel The Clockwork Dagger, which, oh yeah, just got profiled at Entertainment Weekly. Here she is, to talk about the long unicorn ride to publication.

* * *

When you’re a writer, it’s all about trading up to a better set of problems. You start out just wanting the time and/or brain power to write. Then you want to be published–validated–in any kind of way. And published again. If you’re a novelist going the traditional route, acquiring an agent is the first big goal. And when you get that agent, it’s like you’ve been handed the reins to a sparkly unicorn who will take you to magical realms where chocolate has no calories and all your publication dreams will come true.

My own journey started at a timid crawl. I trunked several novels and then worked for years on an urban fantasy about a healer. I did several from-scratch rewrites. I LOVED that book. After all that labor, I had two agents offer me representation. I had a sparkling unicorn at last! I was off to the land of book contracts and purring fuzzy kittens.

No one talks about the ugly truth: that even with an agent, a lot of first novels don’t sell.

I’ve had my share of rejections on the small stuff. My skin is thicker these days, but nothing hurts like novel rejections. They were ACME anvils dropped on my hopes and dreams. I don’t have Wile E. Coyote’s resilience. I was squished flat.

I had another novel (#2) in revision with my critique group, and started on another project. I sent the polished book #2 along to my agent. She informed me that it was deeply flawed and would need to be completely reworked.

Ten ton anvil, right there. All the things she said that were wrong with the book… they all made sense. But I didn’t know how to fix it, and even more, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I didn’t love this book the way I’d loved my urban fantasy.

I still desperately wanted to sell a book, though. I considered self-publishing, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to see my book in major bookstores. I wanted to hold it. Cuddle. Take long walks on the beach together.

There was still my new project (#3). I’d finished the rough draft. Like my urban fantasy, it featured a healer as the heroine, but this book used an Edwardian steampunk backdrop. The title: THE CLOCKWORK DAGGER. It felt like a good book, but hey, who was I to judge?

After all, my urban fantasy didn’t sell. It wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough. My book #2 sucked. This book-writing thing, maybe I should just stop.

Maybe getting an agent was a total fluke.

Maybe I should stick with short stories, where if I wrote something unsellable, I least I wasn’t wasting a year of my life.

Why even do short stories? I revived my dream of being a writer so I could write NOVELS. That was the goal since I was four-years-old, playing God over my Breyer horses. If I couldn’t succeed with a novel, what was the point?

If I didn’t write, what was I going to do?

In case you couldn’t tell, it’s very depressing to be squished flat by a ten-ton anvil.

Here’s something else that a lot of writers don’t talk about in the open: agents do a heck of a lot more than contracts and submissions. Some wield a wicked red pen. Some are experts at long distance slaps across a writer’s face while screaming, “Pull yourself together, man/woman!” Some are willing to take a client’s screwed up novel–one they really see promise in–and spend six months going back and forth on edits.

I stuck with it. I slogged through draft after draft, determined to give book #3 everything I had. When THE CLOCKWORK DAGGER went out on submission to editors, all those doubts and fears squished me flat again.

If it didn’t sell, then what?

After a few weeks of dread and despair, I pulled out a trusty psychological coping mechanism. No, not alcohol (this time). DENIAL. For months I pretended my book was not on submission, effectively plugging my ears and going, ‘La la la’ as I wrote stories and distracted myself from the oncoming confirmation of my failure.

Then something really weird happened.

A publisher offered on my book.

Then another one.

And another.

The book that was my litmus test for whether I was worthy of this whole novel-writing jig is out as of September 16th. The publisher is Harper Voyager. My cover is pretty and shiny and awesome. It has my name in massive letters across the front. Sometimes I carry it around and pet it, because I can. Because it’s real. I have a two-book deal, so the next novel in the duology will be real, too.

Here’s the thing. I still have my sparkly unicorn, but I don’t get to camp in the happy land of publishing. I continue to trade up to different problems. Every book I write has the potential to suck in extraordinary new ways. I’ll need to go through the agony of the submissions process all over again for a new series. I’m painting that red bulls-eye on my head. If I look up, I’ll probably see anvils suspended from large cranes.

But you know what? If I’m squished flat, you’ll find me there with THE CLOCKWORK DAGGER clutched in my steely fist. No matter what happens from here on out, I stuck with it and published a book. I have proof.

***

Beth Cato is the author of THE CLOCKWORK DAGGER, a steampunk fantasy novel from Harper Voyager. Her short fiction is in InterGalactic Medicine Show, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, and Daily Science Fiction. She’s a Hanford, California native transplanted to the Arizona desert, where she lives with her husband, son, and requisite cat.

Beth Cato: Website | Twitter

The Clockwork Dagger: Amazon | B&N | Indiebound