Category Archives: questions

7

Can’t not know.

Reaching the highest echelons of personal fulfillment, as the assistant manager of a retail establishment, it often fell to me to check the bags of departing employees to ensure that everyone was leaving work sans stolen materials. While I have never had cause to question unpurchased items in anyone’s possession, and never really expected to, no one left the store without also showing me any books they happen to by carrying around with them.

After a while, I never had to even ask—protocol required that when Rachel checked you out of the store, you also had to show her the books in your bag, because she’s going to want to know. It doesn’t matter if it’s the same one as yesterday or last week or last month, she’ll want to know regardless.

I don’t really think that this curiosity is at all specific to me, but it is an interesting one. On the train or walking along the street, I never feel the need to inspect the stores or brands on peoples’ shopping bags or wonder about the food they’ve chosen to eat or any other personal preference. I go out of my way, however, to get a look at the title of the book anyone may be reading. I know I’m not the only one—I often catch people craning or twisting in odd positions to get a glimpse at the front cover of my reading material as well. Usually, I just lift the book up higher to make it easier for whoever is interested

With people you know, like my co-workers at the store, invasive book snooping is a way to get to know them better and to spark conversation. That makes sense—reading preference tells a lot about a person, far more than any other taste, I believe. Reading takes more work and focus than watching a movie or listening to an album, and so what one actually chooses to read must mean something.

But why does it matter what complete strangers have open in front of them? Why does anyone who has any literary interest at all care what someone else they have never seen before and will never see again has chosen to read on this particular day? Is it for comparison? I know I feel a kinship with anyone I see reading a favorite of mine, but rarely do I ever actually strike up conversation with them all the same. I could, I suppose, and then we would say that this need to know is a basic human instinct for interaction and communication with our fellow members of society, but I don’t know that this is true. I know I also love it when I see someone who so perfectly fits one “type” reading a book or magazine or journal that is so stereotypically opposite from what their outward appearance would portend. Is it then just for personal amusement?

While I don’t know why I care or why anyone else does either, I know that it bothers me to no end when no amount of craning or contortions will let me see what another is reading and that this doesn’t apply to any other personal affectation. Do you have any insights? Have you ever had a great conversation with a stranger based solely on what one of you was reading in a public place?

Also, on your way out the door, please remember to take your book out with the cover and title clear so I can see.

45

Bring It On

Alrighty, folks. Here we go again: it’s a Monday in summer, things are actually decently quiet, and I have no idea what to blog about.

So let’s try an oldie but a goodie. Ask me ANYTHING. If you get a question in between now and 9:00 tomorrow morning, I’ll answer to the best of my abilities.

Go ahead: do your worst.

14

Word to the wise

Advice is everywhere, coming at us constantly from all directions—friends, family members; wanted, unwanted; sometimes it’s helpful, sometimes it’s not; very often it’s unavoidable. But it’s everywhere! And if there’s one thing we try to do on this blog—often and (we hope) well—it’s offering advice that will inform, educate, and encourage our readers in what they do. At the end of the day, it’s one of the main reasons we’re on here to begin with.

But, admittedly, not all advice is alike. Because honestly? You shouldn’t actually remove all the commas from your work; and you shouldn’t have to only “write what you know.” And frankly? it is okay to put a work-in-progress aside temporarily if the writing isn’t coming easily; and no.. there doesn’t have to be conflict on every single page.

So today I ask you: in your writing endeavors, have you been the victim of unwanted advice? And if so, what’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever received?

9

Why has no one thought to write about Africa before?

There’s a certain romance to being a writer that’s set apart from all other professions, including the myriad of various artistic ventures one can pursue. There are many stereotypes of writers, from the intellectual brooding in the corner with a cigarette, typewriter and cup of coffee to the idealist sitting in the attic loft in front of a huge bay window with sunlight pouring in over a leather-bound journal and pen.

Despite that these are clearly a bit behind the times, the image perseveres. Inherently, it seems that one thinks of authors as lonely types, lost completely in their own worlds. Okay, well, this must be true on occasion, otherwise no one would get anything done, and yes, there are those writers that are recluses just as there are in any other profession, but surely there are some that interact with the rest of the world! Ideas have to come from somewhere and it’s on those excursions to the outdoors, to social functions and trips to the grocery store where writers come against the questions and scrutinizing eye of the rest of the population.

And then come the questions.

“Really? You’re a writer? What have you written—anything I would have heard of?”

“Can I read some of what you’re working on sometime?”

“Once I wrote an article for the school paper, you know. Everyone was talking about it.”

“Can you read something of mine?”

“It can’t be that hard, can it?”

And my new favorite, due entirely to this post on The Hairpin yesterday, “Oh I have a great idea for a book—want to hear it?”

The real-life conversations the author of this post has endured are listed therein and are worth a look. What has been the most harrowing or frustrating question or response posed to you after someone learns you fashion yourself a writer? Have you been privy to any “amazing” book ideas yourself?

5

What to read?

One of the blessings of working in the publishing industry is that you’re given plenty of books for free. Right now, I’ve got three stacks of books and galleys on my desk, plus another tower on my night table at home, none of which I actually bought. And it’s not like they’re all cast-offs or remainders, either. We’re talking front-list, big-book titles here—in other words, good stuff!

Yet, as much as I appreciate the swag, I find that sometimes it’s a curse as well. The constant availability of books means that I often procrastinate on reading what I actually want to read—or worse, I don’t get to them at all. I’m a huge fan of the Hunger Games books, but it took me months to get around to Mockingjay, not because of the reviews or word-of-mouth, but because I simply had other stuff that looked intriguing at hand.  And I still haven’t gotten around to A Visit from the Good Squad. Or Freedom.

Are the freebies books I would have sought out and purchased? Probably not. But in most cases I was glad to read them, and certainly there’s an educational benefit to reading books on subjects I’d never consider while browsing in the store. On the other hand, it’s been years since I read any classics, because that would mean actually going out and getting the books—and I do worry that my sense of perspective has become limited to what’s contemporary.

I know, it’s pretty obnoxious to complain about having too many free books… and okay, when it comes to book shopping I’m remarkably lazy, too. But still, I’m curious: do you ever put off reading what you want for what’s at hand? Or are you always more focused in your reading choices? If so, do you have a varied reading list? Any strategies for mixing things up?

22

Staying Strong

There are certain things in life that I realize I will never understand. Corporate auditing; veganism; the Neti Pot. It will just never happen. And that’s okay–honestly it is. It’s a fact that I’ve accepted, and I’m ready to move forward with my life.

Now that that’s taken care of.

If there is one thing that I still do not understand—but that I am actively trying to gain a better understanding of—it is how you, as writers, keep your focus, keep your drive. How do you do it? When you enter the revision process and realize that certain things do not work and you will need to cut characters or scenes you’ve painstakingly developed and come to adore; When you feel as though the query process has you running around in circles—between the rules, the do’s, the don’ts, the waiting, the wondering; When you come across someone who has multiple agents vying for their attention after submitting their first novel, yet you’ve been in it for what feels like forever; And don’t even get me started on the amount of rejection that can potentially hit one inbox.

I’m just not sure I could do it, quite frankly.

So I wanted to turn it over to you as I have in the past, and ask: What do you do to keep your head in the game? What do you do when you get that feeling that maybe it’s time to give up?

14

I wish I represented…

Stumped for blog entries today and not wanting to turn to you folks to tell me what to write, I simply turned to my colleagues and made them do some of the heavy lifting for me! Every so often, someone will ask, “If you could have represented any book in the world, what would it have been?” And I always answer TWILIGHT. Because COME ON! That book made roughly a trillion dollars. It’s a silly answer, though, as it’s likely much more interesting to choose books that we would have loved to represent not only because they made a bunch of money. Here’s what we came up with.

Michael went for Ann Dee Ellis’ realistic YA novel THIS IS WHAT I DID citing it as “an amazing example of both voice and storytelling.” Unrelated: in looking the book up, I laughed out loud when I saw that the final line of the Booklist review, where they usually tell people whether or not the book is worthwhile, is instead a warning: “Caution: there’s a slang term for scrotum on page 1.”

Stephanie went with Garth Stein’s major bestseller THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN. When asked why, she replied, “Besides the fact that it made a bajillion dollars?” Fair question. It also is, “beautifully written, compelling, and accessible.”

Miriam chose Ann Patchett’s stunning novel BEL CANTO because she notes that besides being a “gorgeous writer,” Patchett always comes off as a sweet person. She then went on to name an author whose work she loves but thought might be super difficult to work with. I won’t name names. But it sounds like Shmonanthan Shmanzen.

It was Joshua Ferris’s THEN WE CAME TO THE END for Lauren.  She notes that, “Joshua Ferris’s voice and sensibility are very much in the spirit of the sort of accessible literary novels that I tend to go for on a personal and professional level.”

Me? I’ll pick two. It’s my entry after all. On the YA side, I’ll choose Stephen Chbosky’s THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER because it made me cry, it’s a true life story (which I’d love to find more of), and it’s the sort of novel you can imagine really being a life-changer for teens who read it. On the adult side, I’ll pick Gillian Flynn’s DARK PLACES because it’s a super-dark thriller with some really twisted stuff going on, and I can really get behind some bleak, bleak stuff.

Rachel also picked a book that made her cry: Ian McEwan’s ATONEMENT was the first book to make her sob uncontrollably. I will personally note that I don’t understand why the universe loved this book. I file Ian McEwan among those people whose work everyone but me loves, leaving me feeling a little dazed and confused by my own apathy. (See also: Spielberg)

Jane picked an altogether different type of weeper: THE EMPEROR OF ALL MALADIES by Siddhartha Mukherjee, a stunning “biography of cancer” that could have been dull or difficult or simply too dark to read if it weren’t for Mukherjee’s incredible compassion.

What about you, dear readers? Let’s say you could slap your name on some already published book and claim it as your own? What would you have chosen to write?

18

I have no comment at this time.

I really enjoyed Jim’s entry from yesterday. Not just for the opportunity to watch his hypochondriac tendencies in full force, but also because it really got at the heart of why you all do what it is you do. I love learning things like that. Whenever I speak to a potential new client, the first question I ask is why they decided to write their novel, memoir, etc. For whatever reason, the writing takes on a lot more meaning for me when I know what or who brought the writer to put words down on paper.

No doubt, the response to Jim’s post was fantastic. If there’s one thing writers feel strongly about, it is their motivations behind writing. And rightfully so: without a real passion to write, what’s the point? So then I started to wonder about the flipside to this. What about when people ask questions of a writer that they don’t necessarily want to hear? Because people mean well; of course they do. But who really wants to hear things like

1. So you’re a writer…What do you write?
2. Are you still writing that novel?
3. Are you done yet?
4. Can I be a character in your book?
5. Do you think you’ll ever ACTUALLY get published?

Do you, as a writer, ever get questions that make you cringe?