February 22, 2007
we're on a carousel...
There's little place for a renaissance man in the 21st century. I see it quite a bit when I go through my daily routine of researching literary agents who might actually be inspired by my query letters and ask to see a few chapters from whatever book I'm trying to push.
The query letter is part of the process in getting published, a sort of pitch letter that you write to agents, who then represent you before the publishers. Hardly no publishers take unsolicited work from authors, the bulk of the mainstream book industry comprised of a complex network of go-betweens. The process makes sense from the publishers angle, in that there are so many people out there who dream of being a writer, most thinking that it's a glam life that lets you call up Oprah or John Stewart and just chat about the literary world of fancy dinners and high profile interviews on tv, especially after the movie rights have been sold.
The truth is that writing is like being on a carousel. It's a job that involves a lot of routine, even though what you write might have never been seen before. The agent letters are just one example; one that has been on my mind as I start the second barrage of letter writing for the book I spent most of last year writing. The first time around it was exciting, and a bit alien, like seeing the other side of the carousel that you can't see from the entrance, your body leaning as you turn, feeling your stomach slide in time with the organ. That first time around, my stomach slid each time I opened the self addressed stamped envelope that had been returned. There's no need to open the letters, though I find myself still doing it. If an agent really wants you, then they won't waste time. They'll call or e-mail if they're really interested.
The second time around, you get a hang of the ride, knowing when to lean with the turns, when to close your eyes, when to wave to your parents who watch supportingly from just beyond the gated exit. I'm actually finding this second-go-round much more pleasant than the first. Not that I think the phone will be ringing off the hook in a couple of weeks. But you learn the process through error, learning how to better craft your letters, and which agents might be looking for your particular story.
In researching all the various agents, you begin to see just how great the world of published authors actually is. This is more true for writers who have a particular nitch. It seems like most books these days are written by experts. They might have met an editor at a conference, knew a friend in the field that got published, or simply put together a solid book proposal and outlined their target audience with exact percision. And then there are those of us who see ourselves as trying to be literary, to not just inform, but to take the reader somewhere he or she has never gone. It's a world of the unknown, like riding a ride for the first time. The difficulty is that the unknown is sometimes hardest to persuade people to invest with their time and energy. The first time I went to Disney world, I was much more in favor of riding the auto cars than Space Mountain. The cars I could see, while Space Mountain hid itself inside a great unknown. Publishers and Agents can feel the same way when looking at a query letter or proposal. People who know their cats whill probably be a shoe in for buying books about cats, making an expert felinologist an easy sell to the cat community. But what community does a memoirist belong to? It's not such an easy line to define.
A good memoirist doesn't just write about her or himself. Otherwise, the audience would consist of two people, the writer and the writer's mother--both of whom expect free advanced copies of the book. The memoirist sees not just the writing process as a carousel (writing, editing, query writing, starting a new book, editing, etc.). Life, rather, is a carousel. You don't see just one part of it, a nitch, that view you have when the ride has stopped and you only have your slice off the world to gaze upon. For myself, I try to see it from a variety of view points, all view points if possible. It's like when I got my sight back eleven years ago, and how I tried to take in everything I saw like it was new, the same way that the world looks so fresh from when you're flying high above the ground.
Writing is my passion. Though I'm some what blessed to also have such a passion for music and art, politics and culture, people and the towns they call home. I could always give up writing, maybe take up music instead. I've been working on the side for a few music projects, writing sound for a documentary and a play that started last night in the Village. There's definitely fewer musicians and composers in the world than would-be writers. However, there is still something stoic about the single word, the most fundamental expression of comunication put down on a simple parchment. The page is where most creative work begins--a sketch, an idea, a few words that fit like a well tailored suit.
I feel sorry for writers who have only their nitch, who might become so frustrated with the process, who feel like they might lose their corndog and cotton candy if they go around one more time. I on the other hand love the carousel. It's such a strong metaphor for life, and especially for the author, a strange breed who never seems to get sick of going around, around, and around.
The query letter is part of the process in getting published, a sort of pitch letter that you write to agents, who then represent you before the publishers. Hardly no publishers take unsolicited work from authors, the bulk of the mainstream book industry comprised of a complex network of go-betweens. The process makes sense from the publishers angle, in that there are so many people out there who dream of being a writer, most thinking that it's a glam life that lets you call up Oprah or John Stewart and just chat about the literary world of fancy dinners and high profile interviews on tv, especially after the movie rights have been sold.
The truth is that writing is like being on a carousel. It's a job that involves a lot of routine, even though what you write might have never been seen before. The agent letters are just one example; one that has been on my mind as I start the second barrage of letter writing for the book I spent most of last year writing. The first time around it was exciting, and a bit alien, like seeing the other side of the carousel that you can't see from the entrance, your body leaning as you turn, feeling your stomach slide in time with the organ. That first time around, my stomach slid each time I opened the self addressed stamped envelope that had been returned. There's no need to open the letters, though I find myself still doing it. If an agent really wants you, then they won't waste time. They'll call or e-mail if they're really interested.
The second time around, you get a hang of the ride, knowing when to lean with the turns, when to close your eyes, when to wave to your parents who watch supportingly from just beyond the gated exit. I'm actually finding this second-go-round much more pleasant than the first. Not that I think the phone will be ringing off the hook in a couple of weeks. But you learn the process through error, learning how to better craft your letters, and which agents might be looking for your particular story.
In researching all the various agents, you begin to see just how great the world of published authors actually is. This is more true for writers who have a particular nitch. It seems like most books these days are written by experts. They might have met an editor at a conference, knew a friend in the field that got published, or simply put together a solid book proposal and outlined their target audience with exact percision. And then there are those of us who see ourselves as trying to be literary, to not just inform, but to take the reader somewhere he or she has never gone. It's a world of the unknown, like riding a ride for the first time. The difficulty is that the unknown is sometimes hardest to persuade people to invest with their time and energy. The first time I went to Disney world, I was much more in favor of riding the auto cars than Space Mountain. The cars I could see, while Space Mountain hid itself inside a great unknown. Publishers and Agents can feel the same way when looking at a query letter or proposal. People who know their cats whill probably be a shoe in for buying books about cats, making an expert felinologist an easy sell to the cat community. But what community does a memoirist belong to? It's not such an easy line to define.
A good memoirist doesn't just write about her or himself. Otherwise, the audience would consist of two people, the writer and the writer's mother--both of whom expect free advanced copies of the book. The memoirist sees not just the writing process as a carousel (writing, editing, query writing, starting a new book, editing, etc.). Life, rather, is a carousel. You don't see just one part of it, a nitch, that view you have when the ride has stopped and you only have your slice off the world to gaze upon. For myself, I try to see it from a variety of view points, all view points if possible. It's like when I got my sight back eleven years ago, and how I tried to take in everything I saw like it was new, the same way that the world looks so fresh from when you're flying high above the ground.
Writing is my passion. Though I'm some what blessed to also have such a passion for music and art, politics and culture, people and the towns they call home. I could always give up writing, maybe take up music instead. I've been working on the side for a few music projects, writing sound for a documentary and a play that started last night in the Village. There's definitely fewer musicians and composers in the world than would-be writers. However, there is still something stoic about the single word, the most fundamental expression of comunication put down on a simple parchment. The page is where most creative work begins--a sketch, an idea, a few words that fit like a well tailored suit.
I feel sorry for writers who have only their nitch, who might become so frustrated with the process, who feel like they might lose their corndog and cotton candy if they go around one more time. I on the other hand love the carousel. It's such a strong metaphor for life, and especially for the author, a strange breed who never seems to get sick of going around, around, and around.
# posted by Tony : 8:09 AM
