No Such Thing as "Luck"

I'm reading Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass of the Donald Maass Literary Agency in New York City.

His premise seems to be this: the type of reception our writing receives is usually a direct reflection of the writing itself. That means, much as we'd like to blame too much competition, a poor economy, not enough access to major publishers and close-minded agents/publishers who can't see genius, the bottom line is that our writing is mediocre. That's a bitter pill to swallow, which is probably why most of us work so hard to point the finger at some other reason.

In the nineties, when the publishing industry became a lot more hostile due to the consolidation of major publishing houses and the demise of smaller ones, I remember getting angry with a book critic — I've forgotten which one — who more or less wrote a good riddance to the concept of the mid-list author. The very fact that they're mid-list means they're work is only okay. Why boo-hoo the disappearance of mediocrity? Why not look for and reward the exceptional?

The implication is that while many of us may be good writers, we're not great writers, not only because we lack the tools with which to create a fantastic story — we might be very good in plot and dialogue, for example, but lousy in character development and setting scenes — but we don't seem to know we lack those tools, or if we do, we're too lazy to take the steps necessary to do the job not just right, but beyond our expectations and those of our readers.

How can we be sure that might be our situation? By looking at how people react to our stories. If our stories are exceptional, they'll not only sell, but start a word-of-mouth wildfire, what Mr. Maass considers the premier indicator of a breakout novel.

That kind of excitement by the reading public is not the product of luck, Mr. Maass argues, but rather of writers who acquire the skills necessary to create exactly the effect they want:

To write a breakout novel is to run free of the pack. It is to delve deeper, think harder, revise more, and commit to creating characters and plot that surpass one’s previous accomplishments. It is to say “no” to merely being good enough to be published.

It is to a commitment to quality.

What do you think?

Happy writing!

"There's a fun aspect to marketing...": Say What?

Intrepid GGW member, artist and author Ara Hagopian recently emailed that very sentence, which I read with amazement, as most writers I know would, too.

After thinking about how anyone — other than those who have gone to college to learn how to market properly and are paid handsomely to do so — could state such a thing, I decided to go back and reread his entire response. If he can find the process fun, maybe he can teach me a thing or two.

As a word of background, Ara has put together a basic concept called The Literate Show: each of his striking works is accompanied by an essay that helps the viewer interpret his abstract pieces. His goal now is to secure a showing of his work at a major gallery or museum.

I've bolded the parts of his response that point to the steps the rest of us can follow to make peace with a necessary part of our writing careers:

Getting the press pack ready, that is, (1) the right envelope, the press release correctly written, formatted and printed, a perfect 8x10 printed on art paper, an inserted handwritten card if I know the person or would like to write an introduction to a new person... and a cardboard stiffener to keep the envelope from being crushed. Once the packet is addressed and sealed--and I'll (2) send up to forty packets per release, maybe fifty this year-- then they're mailed. THAT'S when it gets exciting. Because it's a great feeling knowing that (3) in 2-3 days, each of my little messengers is going to do its best to deliver the goods.

Each envelope, as delivered to its respective address, has its own story... which I will never know (but can imagine). Who handles the packet? Who opens it? What's their reaction? Is the envelope even opened at all? Is it tossed in the trash? Does someone eat their lunch on it? Is it looked at by an intern, who alone is making the pass/fail decision? I know that many packets fail to reach the addressee. (4) But a few fish make it upstream. When the director of the Guggenheim wrote me a nice letter last year, I knew the marketing efforts were worth it.

Lessons Learned

1. Do the job right: Critique any written materials, turn guest blog posts in on time, submit proposals that include all necessary information

2. Think big: Instead of sending one press release at a time, start thinking about how you can post information about your book or writing project to a wide audience through Facebook, GoodReads.com, Twitter, college networks, those who attend your workshops or speeches, etc.

3. Prep to act: When the responses start coming in, make sure to respond appropriately and in a timely way by adding people to your email lists, directing them to your upcoming events, providing them with extra information, proposing new events/lectures/workshops.

4. Keep perspective: Marketing seems most palatable when we're consistent and keep the long view in view. Talking with fellow writers, those who are most successful with their marketing efforts are those who understand how much they can handle without risking their good mental health and then plod along, carrying out those efforts at a modest, but consistent, pace rather than sprinting and burning out.

One such author is Joylene Nowell Butler, author of Dead Witness, who will be interviewed at noon (PST) on March 9 on the BlogTalkRadio program Book Talk, Creativity and Family Matters hosted by Anjuelle Floyd. Joylene's blog currently features the marketing must-dos of writer Phyllis Zimbler Miller, so feel free to take a look.

Thanks Ara and Joylene for being such great role models.

Happy writing!