Category Archives: Lauren

12

Nephews Read Books

This past weekend, I went to visit my nephews (and their parents, of course, but frankly they’re not as cute).  Now as I’ve previously reported, my nephews know me pretty well by now as a person who reads books.  The older of the two, who we’ll call Fidge, has been known to declare to visitors that “Aunts read books.”  And on the whiteboard on which they count down sleeps until major events, they art directed a sketch of me with a soccer ball in one hand and a book in the other.

At LaurnenSo consider me thrilled to report that my younger nephew, who we’ll call Gus, has started reading memorized bits of his books unprompted, and his big brother Fidge can full on read now, sounding out words he doesn’t recognize and automatically trying to read every word he sees, whether on a book or a street sign or a building.  For the first time ever, he read to me a book he hasn’t memorized.  I love picture books, but I’ve been eagerly awaiting this stage, when we can start advancing to more complicated stories.

So now I need to advance my book acquisitions beyond picture books.  I’m going to stock up on some Amelia Bedelias and Pippi Longstockings.  And they need to hear the news that Miss Nelson Is Missing.  I’ve been holding a set of Roald Dahl books for at least 3 years waiting for them to be old enough.  I’m pretty sure Fidge will be all about the Magic School Bus.  Plus it’s probably time to continue the family Laura Ingalls Wilder tradition.

Do you have any favorite post-picture book gems that my nephews and I should dive into?

6

Armchair travel

Because the weather has finally turned to spring time, my mind is now turning to summer.  Maybe it’s how crazy busy things have been, but I’m thinking about vacation like a man stranded in a desert thinks about water.  In a little over a month, I get to go away for a weekend to one of my favorite places: a cabin on the Susquehanna River I’ve rented a few times with some of my closest friends.  The primary activity at that cabin is sitting reading books side-by-side in Adirondack chairs, and I’m already starting to fantasize about which books I’ll bring with me.

But there are other books I’m fantasizing about now, too: the kind that transport you to faraway lands without a plane ticket.  I’ve idly looked back at old vacation photos and all the bookmarked internet photo lists of beautiful places I absolutely must go to someday.  This year’s vacation is a family one that should be lovely, but won’t involve going to some foreign land or immersing myself alone in a culture and a place that I’ve never experienced before, which is my favorite thing about vacation.

So now I’m yearning for books to do it for me, and I need your recommendations.  Travel writing is a-okay in my book, but it doesn’t have to be non-fiction.  A well rendered novel about a far off land that will make me feel like I’ve been there will do the trick, too.  (I occasionally forget I haven’t been to Morocco because of how much Esther Freud’s Hideous Kinky sticks with me more than 10 years after reading it.)  So, what have you got for me???

4

Shelves and piles and stacks and heaps and boxes

I have a friend visiting this week, so naturally yesterday when I got home from work there was a frenzy of cleaning to do.  A lot of that frenzy involved putting books away, and I realized that from an outsider’s perspective, the specificity of where books go in my apartment might seem a little odd.

Of course there are the regular bookcases, sorted by client v. non-client, subrights client v. my client, picture book v. middle grade/YA v. adult, fiction  v. non-fiction, collection v. single author, and probably many more.  My 4+ years of booksellerdom have really stuck with me.

Then there’s the stack of books to give away: the ones I accidentally bought twice, or bought but then remembered I have the galleys already, or brought home multiple times from the DGLM giveaway pile, or read and disliked enough to not want to make space for them, or plan to lend rather than gift because I know someone who will love them as much as I did.  That stack has post-it notes on it marking who they’re for.

The other post-it note pile, actually shelf, is the books I’ve borrowed, each indicating whom they belong to so when I’m done reading I’ll remember to put them in the giveaway stack instead of on the regular bookcases with the books that actually belong to me.

Then there’s the box of books I’m donating because I don’t know anyone who’d really want them—which has been sitting near my front door for at least a month now, but I swear I really will make the time to go donate them…soon.

And of course there’s the temporary pile, where books accumulate throughout the week for sorting into one of the above mentioned sections, along with various papers I need to file or deal with.

But the most prominent book space in my apartment is the one that sits just beside my TV.  Those are the books I’m in the middle of and don’t want to put down too long lest I lose the thread.  That also includes the books I have to read by a certain date, for one of my three book clubs, say, or because I’m planning to attend an author event.  Also there are books I need to read sooner rather than later, for work reasons or because I really want to or because I know that someone I know is reading, too, and I want to be able to talk to her/him about it.  The last part of that stack is the magazines I had to have because this time I was definitely, definitely going to read them, and I can’t recycle them because no, seriously, I’m going to read them this time.  (Among those magazines right now is a World Cup issue of something, which I think about every time I bring it home a new magazine friend to live with forever on my TV stand.)  That’s the pile I’m excited about, that I don’t want to forget about, that I need to feel guilty about not turning to when I’m Netflixing the 8 millionth episode of Friends.

As I sorted books from the temporary pile into all these other homes, I thought about how, outside of publishing, even my very literate friends usually only have a bookcase, maybe two, and certainly fewer teetering piles of doom.  Maybe they read e-books or listen to audiobooks.  Maybe they use the library or give their books away when they’re done because this is New York City, for goodness sake, and space is at a premium.  But you know what?  As I looked around my clean apartment before going to bed last night, it was actually the thing I was most proud of—it’s not such a bad apartment over all, but mostly there are books everywhere you look.

2

Ten Years

As of tomorrow, I’ll have been at DGLM for ten years.  Since that’s such a pleasingly round number, it feels like a good time to name ten of the best things about the last ten years at DGLM.  In no particular order:

  • We’re not in midtown.  Union Square is pretty much the ideal publishing location.  Between agencies, publishers, and scouts there are enough of us congregated around here, lots of great restaurants, a solid subway hub, and we’re nowhere near Times Square.  If you’re not a New Yorker, this might not resonate for you, but I’ve gotten to spend the last decade below 23rd street, which was more or less my life goal as an NYU student.
  •  I used to work in bookstores.  I have stood in those same places where I used to stock the shelves and read my own name inside books.  I have also made my family members endure this ritual of narcissism pretty much any time we’ve been in a place that sells books.  Given that they’re all book nerds, too, it’s kind of huge.
  •  I spend time on every vacation playing Spot the DGLM Client in foreign bookstores.  About 1/5 of my vacation photos are books I sold in translation.  I have almost no shame.
  • This is an office full of people who actually like each other.  From what I gather from friends, family, and years of sitcom watching, that’s kind of rare.  Our office meetings are usually way more hilarious than office meetings have any right to be. We work collaboratively, and even though we’re pretty ambitious, any internal competition is motivating rather than cutthroat.
  • Okay, so “reading books for a living” is much more the fantasy of agent life than the reality (I’m pretty sure I answer emails for a living, if you want to boil it down to one thing), but I do get to excuse myself from having a budget for books.  Buying books with reckless disregard for personal finance is just the responsible thing to do.
  • bookcasesAnd on a related note, I finally achieved the bookcase wall of my dreams.  (Goal for the next 10 years: rolling ladder.)
  • I get to turn the things I’m most excited about into my job.  If something’s been occupying my attention, there’s a way to publish a book on it.  Whether that’s putting out the call for a novel on the subject or tracking down a writer to cover it, from Serial to soccer, I get to make my passions my work. That’s even better than being able to make your favorite indulgences tax deductible.
  • I’ve learned from some of the best agents in the business.  If there’s anything the DGLM team can’t figure out about publishing between them, I’ve never encountered it.  There is always someone to learn from on every subject.
  • I’ve gone from Jane’s assistant to Subsidiary Rights Director, and I’m empowered to sign up anything I want.  That’s an amount of encouragement, opportunity, and support that I could only have dreamed of the day I shot my resume off to Michael, and I’m so incredibly grateful for it.
  • I work with amazing authors.  Sometimes I get to be the first person to tell an author she’s hit the New York Times bestseller list for the very first time. Someone I once made laugh on the phone is now president of this country.  On my last birthday, I had dinner with an author the week a movie adaptation of his book opened at #1 at the box office.  I tell extremely talented creative people what I think of their work, and they actually listen to me.  On a regular basis, I get to give people news so good it makes them cry.  I get paid to bring the most important tool of entertainment, education, enlightenment, and empathy the world has to offer to as many people as I possibly can.  Was that overly sincere?  I don’t even care.  It’s an extraordinary privilege to help shepherd books into the world.

And for those keeping track, yes, every person that worked at DGLM on my Day 1—Jane, Miriam, Stacey, Michael, & Jim—is still here on Day 3652.  Thanks to them and everyone else on Team DGLM for a fantastic 10 years.  Here’s to 10 more!

0

Friends in Unexpected Places

FGI’ve mentioned my love of Book Riot’s Book Fetish column before, but this might be its most exciting week yet.  I’ve also probably mentioned my love of infographics.  So it’s no surprise I’m a huge, huge fan of Pop Chart Lab.  I spend time every year browsing their booth at the Union Square Holiday Market, hoping they’ll create a new design that’s just right for me (or, okay, one to buy as a gift, but let’s be honest, I’m there for me first and foremost).   Their work is fantastic, but I’ve never found the right one.  UNTIL NOW.  Thanks to Book Riot, I know they’ve created a Fiction Genres chart!  (Pictured here, but check out their site to see it close up.)  I excitedly clicked over, while simultaneously reaching for my wallet.  I already knew I was definitely going to buy it but I thought I should at least pretend to do my due diligence and started zooming in on the poster.  And that’s when I spotted it: hanging out by the Romance marker, right by D.H. Freaking Lawrence, is “On Dublin Street (Young).”  Now if you’re not a student of my personal client list, you might not realize that On Dublin Street by Samantha Young is a book that I represent.  Just sitting there on the poster of my dreams, waiting for me to urgently buy two copies so that I don’t have to decide whether to put it in my home or office. (Obviously I did that before typing this blog entry.  Priorities!)

That might be the loudest I yelped (and the most ALL CAPSedly I declared my excitement to my DGLM colleagues via IM), but it’s not the only time recently that I’ve come across one of our own in a not-so-bookish place.  Just yesterday I discovered, to the delight of my inner twelve year old, that the film adaptation of The Maze Runner was nominated for an MTV Movie Award.  You can say there are more important prizes to be won in the worlds of books and movies, but I have a totally unreasonable nostalgic soft spot for that golden popcorn statuette.  I know what I’ll be doing on Sunday, April 12th.  (Trying in vain to convince a friend who has cable that they want to watch an awards show they haven’t cared about since they were 15, if ever.)

BL PosterFortunately, I discovered those in the privacy of my office and home, respectively.  Not so for coming across this fantastic ad for Richelle Mead’s Bloodlines series in the subway station.  I might have yelled “Oooh!” so loud I startled a stranger who was walking beside me, earning myself quite a dirty look.  Not that I’m sorry: if that’s the most alarming thing she heard in the New York City subway that week, it was a very good week indeed.  Plus, book ads in the subway are totally Oooh-worthy.

I work and live surrounded by books, and as Rights Director have a constant flow of DGLM client news coming through my email account and Twitter feed, but it’s extra exciting when our clients’ work jumps out at me from the places I’m not expecting them.  Now to go order myself the perfect frames for those posters…

5

Page to screen

Oscar weekend is upon us, which has me thinking, as it inevitably does, about book-to-film adaptations, so I polled the office on this dreary winter day about their favorites (excluding DGLM titles, because that’s just cheating).

Sharon went for literary classics: Baz Luhrmann’s adaptation of The Great Gatsby, the recent musical film of Les Miserables, and Jane Campion’s take on Sense & Sensibility.  (For Baz Luhrmann adaptations of literature starring Leonardo DiCaprio, I’m personally much more partial to Romeo + Juliet, but I’ll allow that maybe you had to be a certain age when that came out to actually have found it appealing.)

Mike Hoogland will vouch for Fight Club, Silver Linings Playbook, and American Sniper.  I definitely have feelings about all of those choices, so I guess those movies are doing something right!

Rachel’s more up my alley, though: The Virgin Suicides, The Commitments (seconded by me!), and Bridget Jones’s Diary.

Jim and I also both picked good old Bridget Jones.  In fact, my taste in book-to-film adaptations overwhelmingly runs toward the contemporary update of literary classics: the Brit Lit curriculum makes great fodder for high school comedies.  For example, Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You are two of my favorite movies.  I prefer Clueless to Emma, but Taming of the Shrew is among my preferred Shakespeare plays (and I also love, love, love it in musical form in Kiss Me, Kate).

WakingthedeadMy all-time favorite book-to-film adaptation is Scott Spencer’s Waking the Dead starring Billy Crudup and Jennifer Connelly.  I love the book and I love the movie, which is pretty rare for me.  I even love the soundtrack.  I think the movie is criminally underrated and the book should have been read more widely.

Jim was on a roll though, so he picked many more, most of which I heartily agree with: Adaptation, American Psycho, Apocalypse Now, Rebecca, The Godfather, Silence of the Lambs, Leaving Las Vegas, Election, Precious, and Children of Men.

I could name so many more, too: Jurassic Park, Stand By Me, Trainspotting, Brokeback Mountain, The Princess Bride…Basically, if you’re looking for a memorable movie with strong characters and a compelling story to tell, it probably started life as a book.

And now I have to head home for the weekend, because writing this post has made me want to build the Netflix queue to end all Netflix queues and stay curled up in doors away from the arctic chill of February till Monday.

What are your favorites?  Least favorites?

9

You like me! You really like me!

“That the question of likability even exists in literary conversations is odd…Certainly we can find kinship in fiction, but literary merit shouldn’t be dictated by whether we want to be friends or lovers with those about whom we read.” – Roxane Gay, Bad Feminist

In reading Bad Feminist recently, I nodded my head so vigorously on so many occasions that I’m lucky I didn’t sprain my neck.  Among the calls to arms and insights and gems was the above quote, perfectly summing up my distaste for the prevailing wisdom on “likable” protagonists.  I mean, sure, there are books I don’t like and that I don’t recommend because of it.  But to reject a book because you don’t like the main character?

It’s an absurd objection to literature—often shorthand, I suppose, for “this book didn’t resonate with me and I need a thing to pin that on”—and totally irrelevant to whether or not one even likes a book.  If the book isn’t working, the unlikeable protagonist is going to stick out like a sore thumb to be sure, but I find it pretty hard to believe that anyone has never loved a book where they didn’t like the protagonist.  Gone Girl isn’t a massive bestseller because we all think Amy seems swell and Nick like the husband of our dreams.

I like my friends.  I like my family.  I like my colleagues.  Perfect to have brunch with, certainly, but you want to know a secret?  You couldn’t pay me to read a book about nearly any of them.

Likewise, I’m happy to read about a serial killer, but I’m not going to buy any BFF heart necklaces for us to wear.

So I’m with Ms. Gay–let’s stop talking about the likability of protagonists as if that’s what really matters.

0

Hooray for picture books

I represent very few picture books, but in my personal life I’m deeply indebted to them.  As I’ve mentioned countless times, my nephews are my favorite people on this planet, and at 6 and 3, their primary bond with me these days is over reading bedtime stories.  The older one started associating me with reading pretty early on in life, and through an aggressive campaign of reading fun things loudly in his vicinity (often while lying on the floor so he’d be tempted to come over and torment me by climbing onto my back), I’ve gotten the little one on Team Aunts Read Books as well.  Now thanks to a couple strategic buys by my mother in advance of our gathering at her house this past weekend for her birthday, the kiddos are begging for some videos I’ve promised to send of me reading their two favorites from the bunch.  As they were leaving to head back home on Monday, they were devastated to cut our last reading session short at only two books, so I promised to combine their two favorite things about me: reading fun books and watching videos on my phone.

But while I was very excited to discover This Book Just Ate My Dog! this weekend, which very cleverly uses the physical book and encourages interaction, one thing I did find myself wanting was some more children’s nonfiction.  When Martin Luther King came up with my older nephew, he was sort of familiar with him from some things he learned in kindergarten last week, but pretty confused about the role of water fountains in history.  As we discussed, I realized I was struggling to explain Dr. King’s legacy to a child who doesn’t understand race much less racism, or to get him interested in anything beyond the fact that he won the Nobel Peace Prize (which both children were very excited to learn they could watch a video of on my phone.  Injustice and civil rights fly above their head, but they know all about prizes and medals from the absurd number of sports the 6 year old plays).

Fortunately, I realize that there are experts out there who know how to talk about historical figures to children without getting caught up in attempting to explain what a dream is metaphorically.  Next time I see them, I’m determined to be better prepared.  So I turn to you: does anyone have any favorite nonfiction books for young children?  I’d love to be able to teach them more about not only Dr. King, but other important figures and historical moments.  Any pointers?

1

Sublicenses, the Matryoshka of Publishing

One of my favorite podcasts is Stuff You Should Know, from the people at How Stuff Works.  Each episode hosts Josh and Chuck give a primer on a different subject, on topics as varied as Jim Henson, gambling, sea monsters, cinnamon, boomerangs, The Hum, and leper colonies, and that’s just in the last month.  Sometimes they’re serious.  Sometimes they’re ridiculous.  But they’re nearly always fascinating.

Photo by Salvatore Vuono courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Photo by Salvatore Vuono courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

While I can’t promise to ever be quite as entertaining, one thing I can do is explain how some of the facets of publishing work.  I’ll start today with sublicenses—something I’m called on to explain fairly regularly—but if there are any other things about publishing you’d like to understand better, give me a topic in the comments and I’ll do my best to explain it or ask a colleague to take it on.

As with most things, there are exceptions to every rule, but here’s how sublicenses typically work:

So what’s a sublicense?  Basically, when you sign a deal with a publisher, you grant them some rights and reserve others to yourself.  (Those others are the ones that your agency would represent for you, which is where my job as Subsidiary Rights Director for DGLM comes in.)  So let’s say you sign a deal with Random House, and in that deal you’d generally give them print book rights and e-book rights, and you’d generally keep multimedia and film/TV rights.  Other things will be a part of the negotiation your agent is doing, like audio rights, translation rights, and the breadth of the territory granted to the publisher in English.  So let’s say you grant translation rights to the publisher as part of the deal.  That means that the publisher is the party empowered to sell those rights to another publisher.  When you do your deal with Random House, that’s a license.  When they sell your French rights to, let’s say, Hachette, that’s a sublicense.

That part is relatively straightforward. The thing that tends to trip people up is the money.  Now in your contract with Random House, terms will be set for how you earn money on that sublicense. Typically, Random House is going to get to keep 25% for their efforts.  The other 75% is for you, but it’s not really going straight into your pocket.  When Hachette pays Random House, 75% of the money goes into your royalty account and works to earn back your advance.  Advance with RH already earned out?  Great, then that money is coming your way soon.  Advance with RH still left to earn back? Then the money isn’t going to leave Random House. The French rights are part of what they bought from you in that advance, so they can use their French deal to earn back that investment.

Think of sublicenses like Russian nesting dolls full of coins:  your deal with Random House is the biggest of the dolls. When that dolls is full of coins—meaning once your royalty account has earned as much as they advanced you—the coins that don’t fit (aka, the amount above the amount previously advanced to you) come spilling out and get paid out to you!*  But inside your deal with Random House is Random House’s deal with Hachette, and that doll starts off empty, too.  Hachette paid an advance to Random House, which added to the coins inside the larger doll, but then the Hachette doll has to fill up with earnings from the French sale of the book.  Once the Hachette doll is full, coins spill into the Random House doll, and if the Random House doll is full, they spill over to you.  And yes, there can be a third doll inside the Hachette doll, where Hachette sublicenses, say, French audio rights.  As you might imagine, the French audio nesting doll is pretty tiny and doesn’t always exist.

So, does that make sublicenses clearer?  Or are you now just wondering why I think nesting dolls have coins inside them?  Any other questions about sublicenses?  And what topic should I tackle next?

*We don’t really pay our clients in coins.  But if they chose to withdraw their money from the bank in coins so they could Scrooge McDuck it up, we would never judge.

 

2

Reading in a Winter Wonderland

snowy water towersEarlier this week, as I watched snow fluttering by my office window, I took a moment to daydream about curling up by a fireplace with some hot cocoa or wine or hot whiskey, reading an appropriately wintery book.  Naturally I then had to think about exactly which books might fit the bill, and the first that came to mind was Little Women, with its general vibe of New England Christmas.   Though on reflection I don’t think it’s true, in my mind every key scene in the book happens in front of a fireplace (where Amy does burn Jo’s manuscript) or frolicking about in the snow.

On the bleaker side of things, I also thought about the Jack London short story “To Build a Fire,” which is definitely not how I’d like my winter to go.

When I polled the office, Sharon reminded me of how much winter plays in to the Laura Ingalls Wilder books:  “I am fully prepared to navigate blizzards with a clothesline or twist hay into braids for the fire among other traumatizing winter survival skills.”  Now I know if we ever set up an apocalypse emergency system here at the office, I should pick Sharon as my buddy.  And bonus points for the venerable LIW, one of them is even called The Long Winter.

Jane voted for our very own David Morrell’s The Spy Who Came for Christmas.  Miriam picked The Cider House Rules and Snow Falling on Cedars, plus Holidays on Ice, while Michael thought of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (which Intern Elie also cited).  Jessica came up with The Corrections and James Joyce’s “The Dead.”  John’s vote was for Russell Banks’s Affliction.  Jim chose The Shipping News, which Stacey seconded, and Frankenstein.  And Intern Jordan made a strong case for Rachel Conn & David Levithan’s Dash & Lily’s Book of Dares that made me want to run to the store after work and pick it up.

There were two votes for Snow—but for two different books by that name.  Jessica went with Orhan Pamuk, while Jim picked Maxence Fermine.  And there were two for Mark Helprin’s Winter’s Tale, including Sharon and Intern Francis, who is reading it right now.  Plus three for the Harry Potter books, from Interns Tatiana, Amy, and Elie.

A few people came up with books that might not be quite winter books, but have a winter feel to them nonetheless, including Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers (Miriam), Hatchet by Gary Paulsen (Mike), The Road by Cormac McCarthy and Into Thin Air by Jon Kraukauer (both Stacey).  On a similar note, Intern May Zhee reads a lot of Russian novels that feel wintery even if they’re not, like Anna Karenina and Doctor Zhivago.

So now that I have such a long list of wintery reading options, all I need is some snow days to curl up and give them a go.   What are your favorite winter reads?