I think the advice he offers in his piece to writers about questions to ask before quitting your day job is worth sharing with our readers. For many aspiring writers, writing remains a hobby for an often lengthy period of time until you break through to the next level. Even after th are published, there are many writers who still maintain a day job (including  bestselling ones like Jane O’Connor and Colin Harrison, both of whom are editors at major publishing houses).

Jeff interviews many writers and the anecdotal support he shares is educational and enlightening. I particularly like Ellyn Spragin’s comment that she is a full-time entrepreneur whose business is built around writing. Because writing in this market really is now about so much more than writing.

And even if you do not have the luxury of being able to choose to write full-time, Jeff’s advice is as always sound, accessible and practical which offers valuable food for thought. And much of it can be applied to anything you do, like coming up with a Plan B. That’s always a good idea, no matter what your job or financial situation!

Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

I always associate these lines with any sort of creative process, none so more than writing. Although not a writer myself, aside from some university dissertations which I dare not revisit, I become intrigued when I read this article about a collection of first edition books that have been annotated by their author and will be sold off at a charity auction. Some of the authors are rather scathing of their own work such as Yann Martel, who concedes he never completely liked the opening line of The Life of Pi. Other annotations include small details like Lynne Truss fixing a hyphen that appears on the title page of Eats, Shoots and Leaves. Despite the success that all these authors have continued to have, I did wonder if they slightly gnashed their teeth in frustration as they penned their annotations, being unable to permanently improve or alter their books.

The annotations made by these authors on their own works does speak to Eliot’s words, in that they must have pored over each page of their manuscript, made corrections, scrubbed out words only to later add them back in but at some point had to take their toast and tea and draw the line somewhere. In turn, as books now appear in digital as well as print, is there the possibility that an author could endlessly tinker with their work? This piece in the Christian Science Monitor a number of years ago pondered the very question with its author concluding that this could very well be a ‘doomsday scenario’. In journalism, it is not infrequent to have articles amended, so can the same opportunity be afforded to authors who may wish to use the malleability of an e-book to tinker with their own work as time goes by? Or once published, should they be left untouched? I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

Well, in a perverse way, Crombie’s speech hit home for me with a lot of the pitches I heard. SO many of them were fantasy of one sort or another—high fantasy, sci-fi, dystopian, historical, mythic, you name it, I heard it at least twice. I guess you could say these writers were not writing what they knew, in that none of them had lived in outer space or fought with witches. But by following so many of the genre conventions and storylines that have dominated YA over the last five years, I’d venture that these writers actually are very much “writing what they know”, i.e., writing in the same book worlds they’ve lived in for so long now.

So, here’s the plea I’ve made before on this blog—how about some realistic YA fiction for a change? I’d suggest that realistic YA offers writers a way to avoid both sides of the “write what you know” trap. For one, realistic YA has been in such short supply lately that there aren’t a lot of people to slavishly imitate. And second, as adult writers, viewing the “real” world through teen eyes is a total act of not-knowing. I’d particularly make this plea to my new friends in Texas, which is such a fantastic setting for realistic YA—hey, all you need to do is look to S.E. Hinton’s nearby Oklahoma for proof!

But sometimes the brainstorm isn’t enough and you’d be better served by digging deeper and finding ideas that come from your “heartbrain”. That’s what guest author on writersdigest.com Elizabeth Sims talks about in this piece adapted from her book You’ve Got a Book in You.

Sims describes your heartbrain as your whole, deepest self. When you bring this to your brainstorming, it takes on a new life. Thinking about it from a more personal and heartfelt place gives you an ability to reach deeper for your big ideas. She compares it to improv for actors: “In practically any stage of writing, when you’re brainstorming, trying to create new material, it’s like doing improv. And just like improv, it requires more than your head. It requires your heartbrain.”

By starting with a couple of key phrases that work as activators for your heartbrain – “Yes, and…” and “What if?” you are setting yourself up to have a successful stormwriting session.

Take a look and hopefully this idea will help you better develop new work that comes from your heartbrain and through the process of stormwriting rather than just relying on the rather dated and  overused notion of more general brainstorming. Good luck, and let us know if you come up with anything great!

In fact, I find book ideas everywhere especially in the obituaries which are often filled with rich and colorful material (one of my clients is publishing a book in June which began many years ago when I read one of these pieces).

I am always intrigued about where writers get their book ideas.  With nonfiction, many times the author explains this in their book’s preface or introduction.  Novelists on the other hand rarely explain where their ideas come from and so I am wondering, those of you who write fiction, what inspires you to write the stories you write.

I’ve always been drawn to dark literature about unimaginable suffering—I remember reading Night by Elie Wiesel when I was probably too young to fully comprehend the scale of the horror he depicted, but the starkness of the images has stayed with me across the decades.  Periodically, because life is full of breathtaking tragedy, a writer is skilled enough to present his or her experience of his or her own unimaginable suffering in a way that sheds light on our sorrows and losses and the process by which we cope (well or badly) with them.

The most successful of these narratives tend to be lean and unvarnished and the authors of these books are unsparing of themselves and their readers.  They tend to be short books and completely engrossing—playing on that thing that compels human beings to stop and watch a train wreck even if we will have nightmares forever after.  So, why am I as loath to pick up a copy of Wave as I am compelled to read it?  And, which impulse should I give in to.

How do you guys feel about this kind of grief narrative?  Do you find that you force yourselves to read these books or do you pass them by on the bookshelves out of an instinct for self-preservation (emotional, that is)?

We have lots of ideas that we’re going to try out with this. Keep eyes on this page and on both of our Twitter feeds for updates.

Throughout the process, we’ll have Twitter chats and longer form blog discussions, and we want you to be involved.

If there’s one thing Lauren and I have learned over the several years we’ve worked together, it’s that neither of us has any shortage of opinions, so with any luck this will be a lively discussion.

So what’s next on the docket? Read the first half of the book! Our first Twitter chat with be at 6:00 Eastern on April 30, and the first big blog discussion will be on Friday, May 3.

Hope to see you all there!

UPDATE: Join us tonight, Tuesday, 4/30, at 6 p.m. to discuss the first half of ELEANOR & PARK!  Just follow the hashtag #eandpdglm on Twitter.

I remember when a friend first introduced the collaboration feature of Google Docs to me. While the technology behind this is probably light-years less complicated than most of what’s out there, the idea that two or more people can write together, edit each other and share ideas on the same word document or spreadsheet at the same time brings a feeling of side-by-side mentorship that is lost in the world of solitary existence in front of computers.

Of course, it can also be used for fun and silliness—I can’t tell you how many ridiculous, probably unreadable stories I’ve “co-authored” with friends using this tool. A bit like Exquisite Corpse, but over the world wide web instead of with pen and paper.

Writing silly stories with your friends is all well and good, of course, but I’ve recently discovered a more…literary…collaboration you can try out. Google has done a demo where you can practice writing stories with the likes of Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Emily Dickinson and Edgar Allen Poe. They’ll edit your words to their tastes and chide you if you slack off. I think my favorite is Charles Dickins’ accusation after too long a pause, “Procrastination is the thief of time, collar him.”

While this is really just a fun game you can play with yourself, I wonder if it also couldn’t be an exercise in trying out various writing styles and formats. Not that writing with Shakespeare’s prose or Nietzsche’s vindications is really anyone’s aim (or maybe it is!), but seeing how a simple word change or structure alteration in your own words can give an entirely different effect to the narrative is certainly eye-opening.

I suggest trying it out, whether for fun or for discipline (okay, it’s going to be fun regardless) and posting your favorite “edits” in the comments!

That discussion got me to thinking about ideas and where they come from—in particular the ideas that form the basis of novels.  I know that many first time novelists take their ideas from their own lives and experiences and that is totally natural.  Our longtime client, Gus Lee based both CHINA BOY and HONOR AND DUTY on his life, for instance.  But after that, what happens?

Some, I know, turn nonfiction stories into fiction—we see this especially with television series  like Law and Order; some use the events of history as the basis of their novels. Another of our clients, Mary Doria Russell, has based her last novels on Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp. And in his new novel, MURDER AS A FINE ART, our bestselling author David Morrell goes back to the 18oos and the works of notorious opium eater Thomas De Quincey  to create his story.

And so I thought I would ask you writers who I hope are reading this blog where your ideas come from, your own or other peoples’ lives?  I look forward to reading your responses.

Me: “We want X, Y, Z.”

Contracts director: “No.  We can’t agree to that.”

Me: “If you don’t give it to us, we’ll walk.”

Contracts director: “Fine, we’ll give you X and Y, but you’ll have to pry Z out of our cold dead hands.”

Me: “What was Z again?”

Multiply this by three or four contracts a week, reams of e-mails, and some name calling, and you’ve got my life in a nutshell.  At this point, the process is so predictable, I could create a flowchart that pretty much tells you the probable outcome of any negotiation.  Which is what tickles me about this delightful infographic that Galleycat reposted yesterday.

As fast as the publishing industry is changing, some things remain wonderfully constant: Authors’ hopes and dreams either coming true or being crushed into oblivion; insiders trying to game the system; agents, editors and publishers working hard and failing roughly as much as professional baseball players; heavy drinking regardless.

You’d think we’d get bored.  But really, it’s such a thrill when all the stars align and the editorial and development work, the tedious nitpicking of contract terms, and the snarky, despairing, bombastic communications result in a book you’re proud of (and which is sometimes profitable), that you end up just feeling grateful to be part of the process.

What’s your favorite part of the flowchart?