Why I Signed on with a SF/F Agency

I've gotten this question more times than you might expect. I'm not entirely surprised -- I'm publishing a contemporary middle grade novel, and my next few projects fall under the same category. How exactly did I end up working with one of the leading science fiction and fantasy agencies in the business?

It was actually pretty simple. I queried them, and I caught their interest. I'd queried them four times before, and two of the times gotten them to nibble a little bit. The two projects that had briefly caught their interest in the past were fantasy novels (one high, one urban). I'd written fantasy and science fiction (mostly awful material in the latter category) in the past, and I might again down the road. But that's still not the reason I signed on.

Because think about it. Contemporary middle grade? With an agency known for repping genre heavyweights like Brandon Sanderson and Charlaine Harris? What in the name of fruit salad was I thinking?

My first phone conversation with them was brutally honest.

"You do this and that really well, but when it comes to (mentions seven-thousand things), you're pretty terrible."

I'm paraphrasing and exaggerating, but that was the general gist. They were interested, but only sort of. They thought I had potential. But I had work to do before they jumped on board.

They were right about what was terrible, of course. They rep a lot of genre fiction, but they understood what made MG tick in the invisibly intricate way that adult authors just don't get. Every suggestion was sensible, and was likely to improve my manuscript. Why say no to an agency that knew exactly what I needed to do to make my book the best it could be?

I made my book a lot better, and I signed on with a heavy duty SF/F agency to sell my contemporary middle grade novel. I'd do it again if given the choice, even if an agent with a huge middle grade list offered to take me on.

Why I Stopped Caring Who Was a Bestseller

So you may have heard of this little book series called HARRY POTTER. Its explosion of popularity was followed by the voices of  writers angry that you had to write about boy wizards to be successful in the publishing industry. Why can't there be room for their unique masterwork?

Then Dan Brown arrived (or was he before Harry? I can't remember), and his explosion of popularity was followed by the voices of writers angry that you had to write conspiratorial mysteries to be successful in the publishing industry. Why can't there be room for their unique masterwork?

Then TWILIGHT happened, and its explosion of... oh, whatever, you get the point. After TWILIGHT came HUNGER GAMES, and then 50 SHADES OF GREY, and so on. I'm missing plenty of hits, of course, but the general pattern is there.

Those are all very different books. Yes, you can make loose connections, like "love triangles" and your subjective opinions about each author's writing style, but they remain their own reading experiences with their own unique audience.

I'm not writing to tell you those books are good, bad, under or overrated. Who am I to make that decision? Read them yourself and form your own opinion. I'm just here to suggest that maybe reacting to those books and authors with anger is the wrong response.

I hit a huge turning point when I made the conscious decision to stop being mad about not being published. And no, I'm not saying I hate or hated any of the above writers - they're just common targets of literary shaming.

Submitting your work out into the world is a grueling and often self-destructive experience. You suffer intense feelings of worthlessness about your work. Your self-confidence crumbles and reassemble itself all the time. Why add hatred for other writers onto a plate already full of negative feelings? So I stopped being upset about other writers, especially the ones making huge amounts of money. And when I stopped being upset and saw the industry from a distance, I realized how silly I was being in the first place.

Let's first identify a huge fallacy echoed by many prospective writers, including myself at one point in time:

"IF A BOOK BECOMES REALLY POPULAR, PUBLISHERS WILL ONLY RELEASE BOOKS EXACTLY LIKE IT." 

Agents and publishers get really sick of tropes, just like you do. More than you do, actually, because they spend long hours wading through slush piles full of boy wizards and sparkly vampires and sexy business men with fetishes and whatever other book everyone is trying to recreate instead of finding their own literary voice.

When TWILIGHT was at its peak, very few literary agents were accepting submissions for vampire novels. Most said flat out in their submission guidelines that if it was anything like TWILIGHT, or even read a tiny bit like it, to go somewhere else or be form rejected.

The reason why is because the next big thing in publishing is rarely a copy of its recent predecessor. Look at my original list if you don't believe me. DA VINCI CODE was nothing like HARRY POTTER. 50 SHADES was nothing like HUNGER GAMES. Agents and editors are not looking for the next version of anything. The next big blockbuster book is usually something nobody was expecting.

Let's tackle another fallacy:

IF PEOPLE KEEP BUYING THIS CRAP, THERE WILL NEVER BE AN AUDIENCE FOR MY WORK!"

Yes, it's easy to cast stones at a writer making bundles of cash. Stephen King has written two-million books, so at least a few of them won't be up to your standards. Why celebrate mediocrity (a subjective statement, considering every author is considered mediocre by somebody) when there are so many unpublished writers with masterpieces waiting to be read?

There's one huge problem with that mindset. Nothing any of those bestselling writers releases has the slightest effect on your ability to publish or sell books. In fact, I would argue that big blockbuster bestsellers create a healthier industry with more money to spend on new authors who present a risk. And when you finally do land a book deal, do you really think your book's success will have anything to do with what Stephenie Meyer is working on? She doesn't care what you're writing, and you shouldn't care what she's writing (unless you're a fan, in which case I hope you enjoy her next book).

I don't mean any of this to be smug. I also know it's easy for me to stand on Book Deal Mountain and preach to everyone still fighting the good fight to get their book a proper home. I don't mean to be that way, and please know I took this stance many years ago, long before the first sentences of I AM DRUMS were written.

There's nothing healthy about creating a fictional idea (see what I did there?) of an industry that is intentionally locking you out. That's not what's happening. If you truly love this whole making words thing and understand it's not a get-rich-quick scheme, you could break in just as easily as the next guy. Bestselling authors shouldn't make you feel left out.

Besides, hating other writers is baggage. Let it go, and I promise you'll immediately feel better.

I'm Not Too Old to Headbang..... AKA Why I Still Love Helmet

Leave it to the beginning of the school year to turn me into a blogging slacker....

I've wanted to write this post ever since I saw Helmet play a loud, intense freaking show at Reggie's about a week and a half ago. It was an odd time to see them, because it was only a few days before a new school year started.

I essentially got to leave a big part of my modern personality behind for a few hours and go back to a side of myself that was born sometime around sixth grade and lived until early college -- and if you really want to know the truth, a piece of it is still alive now. Why else would I be in my thirties and writing a post with the word "headbang" in it?

It was an intense show. It was blisteringly loud, and for the first time in over ten years I found myself inside a mosh pit that I graciously sidestepped, as I don't have enough faith in my bones anymore and it would have been weird to meet my new students with a black eye or broken arm. The backup band was different, and as much as I sorely missed John Stanier's drumming (now a part of Tomahawk and Battles, the latter of which you've heard if you've played the original Little Big Planet), the players on stage were all rock solid.

Helmet is a strange beast. They don't sound strange upon first listen, but there's an interesting combination of sounds behind them. Page Hamilton, other than being a genuinely nice and honest guy, is a trained jazz guitarist. If you've seen a jazz guitarist live, you know the skill they possess causes pathological insanity. You cannot play that many chords, that fast, without losing your mind. So why then does he end up making his name by starting a band that rips open drop-D power chords that make you want to smash things?

I'll give you an example. Listen to this:



After you're done putting your fist through your bedroom wall and waiting for your ears to stop ringing, listen to this:

 

Be honest -- if the YouTube clip hadn't been labeled, would you have any idea they were the same musicians? I don't think most people would.

Now go back to the first video, and tell me what those guys look like. Normal guys, right? Nothing wrong with that at all. In fact, I think it's excellent, especially considering that Nirvana and Pearl Jam were on a roll when that video first hit MTV's Headbanger's Ball. A lot of metal-heads' first reactions were "What's the tennis team doing with electric guitars?"

For the purposes of focusing this post, I will talk about the album Meantime. I bought it and listened to it on repeat, realizing that almost every song was about channeling anger and the poisonous nature of not being yourself. Young metal-head me needed to hear that. I needed some sort of reassurance that being angry and unhappy is okay sometimes, and there are ways to get it out other than punching the guy who asks why you don't button up your flannel.

I am now a nice, clean-cut teacher and childrens' author (when I go out in public, at least), but I grew up a long-haired drum and guitar fanatic. I suppose underneath the glasses and goofiness a part of me still is just that. And it's nice to let a little bit of that loose at the end of summer, when I need to expel all of my frustration and stock up on patience for the new kids heading my way, who deserve every ounce of effort I can give them.

Helmet is, in a way, a really excellent piece of how I grew up musically, and how I learned to deal with "darkness", whatever form it may take. I don't think what they accomplish is immediately apparent, and I think we rush too quickly to judge kids who are into darker or absurd stuff, not realizing that the art they cling to provides them with a lot of positivity, even if everyone else's eyes and ears don't see anything beautiful at all.

Post Book Deal Writing and the Six Week Wait

LIFE IN BOOLEAN VARIABLES is done. The first draft, at least. Any writer, published or aspiring, will tell you first drafts do not really equal "done", but it feels good to use that word right now. I have a complete manuscript and an official follow-up to I AM DRUMS.

It feels especially good because LIBV gave me a lot of trouble. I almost abandoned it for another project multiple times. I thankfully discovered through my fellow debut authors at Fearless Fifteeners that the second book (or, in most cases, the first book post book deal) is usually a terrible process. Expectations are all over the place. You want to assure everyone who has invested in you that you are not a one trick pony. This is all ridiculous thinking, but try telling that to me several months ago.

Some articles by fellow writers have helped me feel less insane about the whole thing:

N.K. Traver wrote an excellent blog post called "Second Book Syndrome". She discusses this whole thing with better words than I am using in this post.

Robin LaFevers wrote an article, The Crushing Weight of Expectations, which covers almost every fear I've experienced since the book deal went through.

In reality, the worst thing you can do is worry -- all it does is freeze you in place and make you question the authenticity of your writing when what you should really be doing is WRITING WRITING WRITING and seeing what comes out. I've never benefited from expectations, genre-chasing, or questioning my literary credentials. I've benefited from putting my ass in a chair and writing.

Now that LIFE IN BOOLEAN VARIABLES is done, I have set a date on my calendar exactly six weeks from the moment I finished. That is the minimum amount of time I must wait before reading through and spotting all the silly grammatical and plotting mistakes I've made. It provides distance from your role as writer and helps you to see your work through an objective reader's lens. Last time I used this model, I ended up with a book that was bought by a real publisher. It probably won't hurt to do that again.

Visiting New York, Part Four

This is the fourth part in a series of posts about my long-in-development trip to New York with my wife.
Here's Part One.
Here's Part Two.
Here's Part Three.

Our last full day in New York started out with a quick deli breakfast and coffee. After that, we headed straight to Central Park, where we knew we would spend at least four hours.

We had a plan to rent bikes, but that went south the second we realized how many places we wanted to see that weren't accessible from the bike path. So we went on foot, following paths in all different directions, stopping at the Central Park Zoo and making our through beautiful trees and ponds.

The big thing about Central Park, for me, is that my closest comparison is something like Grant or Millenium Park. One look on Google Earth showed me how silly a comparison that was. Central Park is huge -- it's a giant rectangle full of smaller sites I could explore for days.

We took a lot of paths, and ended up at Strawberry Fields. I still don't understand the appeal of lying on the IMAGINE circle and taking smiley photos, but maybe I'm just dramatic.

We took a different path out of Central Park, and swung southeast to drop in at FAO Schwartz. It was a cool store, but I left a little disappointed in the "foot piano" from BIG. I did, however, have to tear myself away from the remote-controlled helicopters after seeing them in action.

We ate a place Anna remembered from her previous visit called Ruby Foos. It was right at the end of the block where we were staying, so it was a nice, easy dinner. I still have yet to enjoy a cup of sake, however.

We went on a Circle Line Harbor Lights cruise after dinner. This was a really beautiful way to see the city. So many of the buildings we walked by, including the Freedom Tower and Empire State Building, look amazing from the water. And for someone who has no interest in climbing the Statue of Liberty, this was a great way to experience it without having to set aside specific time for a visit.

Here are some photos.....

As I was saying, I kind of like seeing the Statue of Liberty from this angle better. It was also surprising to discover that almost half of her height is the base she stands upon. Ghostbusters 2 made me think otherwise. :)

We finished our night exploring a few more neighborhoods and jumping on a few more trains until we ended up back by the Comedy Cellar. We hoped and wished they would have room in their 10:30 PM show, but this was not the case. As a result, the Comedy Cellar became the one thing I really wanted to experience that didn't work out. Such is life.

The good news was we were less than a block from a place Eddie suggested we try. He warned me that Artichoke Pizza was not true New York pizza, by any means, but it was delicious if we found ourselves wanting something different. We did, and it totally paid off because Artichoke Pizza was balls to the wall excellent, and I don't even like artichoke. The moral of the story is, "Listen to your agent, especially when he suggests a pizza place." Anyone want to invent a clever way to ship a few slices to Chicago?

That was our third and final full day in New York. Tomorrow I'll cover our final day and post some final thoughts/reflections about the trip.

Visiting New York, Part Three

This is the third part in a series of posts about my long-in-development trip to New York with my wife.
Here's Part One.
Here's Part Two.

As mentioned in the previous post, I've Deathly Hallows(ed) my second day in NYC and split it into two posts.

This one begins at about 5:30 PM, with me heading back to the offices of JABberwocky in preparation to head to The Museum of the Moving Image with Joshua and Krystyna. It is oh-so-nice when city natives take the reigns on subway traveling. I just relax and follow the leader, knowing the less I'm involved the less likely I am to get lost.

The museum is in Astoria, a very cool neighborhood. Word is it was not always so, but after spending a day and a half in Manhattan it was nice to see a toned down, quieter version of New York. Joshua showed me Kaufman Studios, right by the museum, where they film Sesame Street. I kept my eyes out for Bob and Gordon, but they were nowhere to be found. Yeah, I'm silly like that.

We saw the opening for WHAT'S UP DOC?. a Chuck Jones exhibit. Taking familiar characters and diving into concept art, storyboards, and scripts is pretty fascinating. It prompted some cool conversations with Krystyna about Calvin and Hobbes and an excellent documentary about voice over work -- this one is different from IN A WORLD. The title escapes me at the moment, but it's going to the top of my to-watch list as soon as I remember the name!

My favorite part of the exhibit? The eight rules for Roadrunner cartoons. Seriously, these are spot on, hilarious, and as far I know, were never broken, not even once. The rules were things like (and I do paraphrase here), "The Roadrunner may only harm the Coyote by saying the words, 'BEEP BEEP'" and "The Coyote could stop any time he liked, if he were not a fanatic."

Joshua asked me at the end what else I would like to do. I had nothing.

"You're the guest of honor!" he said.

"But I'm not used to being important!" I said.

I ended up asking him to take me to a good NY pizza place in Queens. He took me to Sunnyside Pizza, where his personal preference was. It was really good -- it reminded me of Bacci back home, but with a much better sauce. I definitely see the appeal of New York pizza, but I'm still biased towards Chicago's, and I'm talking thin crust as well as deep dish (despite what most people think, Chicagoans  eat way more thin crust than deep dish or stuffed. I know... that's crazy).

After that, I got to learn something interesting about Joshua. He knows every building in the city, including what it was used for twenty years ago. The man is a wealth of information, and can answer most any question you have, and correct any inaccuracy you previously believed. I'm pretty sure he could give me a tour of Chicago. That's how much he knows.

He also showed me an excellent view of Manhattan from the other side of the river, a place where you can look right between the buildings and see all the way to New Jersey, and took me on a "movie theater graveyard tour", where I basically learned where all the old movie theaters used to be.

It was a pretty excellent night. As if I needed more reminders of how lucky I am that Eddie pulled me out of the slush.

Visiting New York, Part Two

This is the second part in a series of posts about my long-in-development trip to New York with my wife.
Here's Part One.

Our second day in New York started with my discovery of the New York deli. We stopped by EZ Deli, across the street from the humongous Conan O'Brien billboard for "Sharktopus VS Pteracuda", which Conan continues to play straight as can be. I probably could have eaten three meals a day here and not gotten sick of the numerous things they had, but an egg sandwich and coffee was fine for this particular morning.

We jumped on the train and headed over for the 9/11 Museum in the financial district. It really was a surprising experience. I expected it to be an emotional exhibit, but it was quite a bit more than that. We had planned to spend an hour there before heading to lunch with my agent and editor, and we ended up spending twice that time seeing the sheer amount of material on display. We could have spent even longer. Anyone planning on going to the 9/11 Museum would be wise to purchase tickets in advance (we were thankful we did) and set aside 2-3 hours to spend there.

There is one particular exhibit with a warning to let visitors know that the material within is intended to show the true violence of that day. They weren't kidding -- they don't shy away from the dark and depressing stuff. There's raw news footage, flames, and New Yorkers with faces covered in dust and debris. Walls and timelines are lined with quotes that are as brutally honest as they are emotionally moving. I'm glad I went, but it's a solemn moment that visitors should be ready for.

By the time we finished up, we were on the verge of running late for our lunch with Eddie and Jordan. We checked out the trains heading to the neighborhood we needed to get to, but ended up jumping in a cab when we saw how long it would take. FDR Drive ended up saving us on this one. We thankfully made it on time, but discovered that the restaurant where we had a reservation had a front door that wouldn't open. The folks inside just kind of shrugged and said, "Sorry!"

The good thing about hanging out with people who know the city, of course, is you're HANGING OUT WITH PEOPLE WHO KNOW THE CITY. Within minutes Eddie came up with a great place, and we were walking a few blocks to an excellent Indian restaurant with great curry, a diverse buffet, and plenty of naan.

I'd met Eddie in person at ALA back in July 2013, but I'd only spoken to Jordan through emails and a few editorial calls. There is something to be said about the experience of face-to-face interaction in an industry where there often isn't much of that sort of thing (it generally isn't necessary, per se). I would recommend this kind of in-person interaction at least once to any debut writer considering the idea and in possession of the cheese to pay for it.

Next, we headed over to the Egmont office, where I got to meet a bunch of fine people and talk about anything and everything.

I should probably mention that the two coolest things about meeting publishing people are:

1) They're really nice people who care a lot about books.

2) They LOVE giving visiting authors free books.

Unless I've just been lucky with number one, and the other 95% of the industry is a cesspool of A-holes, number one is really true. And number two.... seriously, my to-read list is jam-packed now.

If I was hard pressed to list a third coolest thing, it would be THEY GIVE YOU COOKIES (thanks, Margaret!).

Next was our visit to the agency office. It's nice to put real faces to the real names I've heard so many times. And I finally got to meet the legendary Joshua Bilmes. You either know what I mean by legendary, or you're never going to understand what I mean anyway. Anna, Eddie, and I shared one of those black/white cookies that taste like a pancake with frosting and discussed lots of cool stuff about what's going to be happening between now and September 2015.

So I met a lot of excellent new people, and even though day two is only half over, this post is becoming rather long. I'm going to pull a Deathly Hallows and split my second day in New York into two posts. My trip to the Museum of the Moving Image and tour of Sunnyside with Joshua and Krystyna will not fit here.

Until tomorrow.....