A Writer's Tale

by Richard Laymon

  All you need to do is determine the source of the problem.

  When you correct the problem, that form of writer’s block will vanish and you’ll be able to plunge on ahead.

  The key, always, is to plunge on ahead.

  Let nothing stop you.

  On Rejection

  REJECTION SLIPS ARE BADGES OF HONOR.

  Purple Hearts.

  They mean that you’ve done your duty. You’ve written your stuff and sent it out. You’ve done your part.

  Show me a writer who doesn’t have a stack of rejection slips and I’ll show you an unpublished writer.

  The rejections can feel like a kick in the stomach when you get them, but they are part of the life. They’re the receipts you get in the mail each time you pay your dues.

  Eventually, if you are persistent, you’ll open an envelope that isn’t self-addressed, it will contain a letter of acceptance, and you’ll be a “published author.”

  In a period of five or six years, I collected at least thirty rejection slips from Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, fifteen or twenty from Ellery Queen, and numerous rejection slips from other magazines.

  They’re not fun to get.

  But what you must understand is that a story can be rejected for any of several reasons.

  True, maybe it’s just a lousy story. Or not a story, at all. Maybe it’s badly written. On the other hand, maybe the editor had a headache when he or she read it. Or maybe the magazine had recently bought a story with a similar plot. Or maybe your piece is too violent for their taste. Maybe the editor thinks it is sexist. Maybe your story has a dog in it, but the editor is a cat person.

  Maybe the editor thinks your main character is too pushy or not pushy enough. Or maybe the publisher has a backlog of stories and just isn’t interested in buying any new ones just now.

  Your material might even be rejected because it is too unusual, too original, doesn’t fit the stereotypes or the editor’s expectations of what a story ought to be. Maybe you’ve dared to enter unknown territories and the publisher is unwilling to risk the adventure.

  In other words, it ain’t necessarily a bad story.

  This is true of any manuscript you submit, whether it’s a short story sent to a magazine or a novel sent to a publisher.

  It may be a perfectly fine piece of work.

  More often than not, its rejection will have little or nothing to dc with the work’s intrinsic merits.

  So be not glum!

  Get your work into the right hands, and it might sell.

  First, make sure that your manuscript is seen by a wide sampling of editors. If none of them wants to buy it, go ahead and put it away.

  But don’t throw it away.

  The finished product is an asset.

  Time goes by. You keep on writing. Some of your stuff sells. You develop a following.

  Down the line, you might very well be able to sell the very same story or novel that nobody wanted at the time it was written.

  In my own case, I spent years sending out short stories to magazines. I accumulated scads of rejection slips. After my novels began to sell, however, I rarely wrote or submitted short stories. Soon, editors were asking me for stories for their anthologies and magazines. About half the time, I turned down the offers for one reason o: another. So the situation had reversed itself.

  The same situation is true of novels. Once you’ve had a certain amount of success, you might be able to sell some of those old novels that had been rejected when you were a “nobody.”

  In many cases, they were only rejected in the first place because you were a nobody not because there was anything wrong with them.

  Get big enough, and you can sell just about anything you ever wrote.

  You may think you’ll never get that big.

  But if you’re good and you persist, you might.

  So don’t let the rejections get you down. Keep everything.

  And be ready to dust a few things off, some day polish them up a bit… maybe change the price of gasoline, change the character’s typewriter into a computer, replace the eight-track tape player with a CD changer, etc.

  In your old, rejected stuff, you may have some good stories, good novels that you’ll be able to sell someday even though nobody wanted them when you were young and unknown and needed the acceptance and money.

  On Book Covers

  MOST AUTHORS, MOST OF THE TIME, HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL over the artwork or written material that appears on the covers of their books.

  They’re lucky if they get to keep their titles.

  Usually, publishers make all the decisions about such matters without consulting the author.

  The writer is at the mercy of strangers in the editorial, sales, and publicity departments.

  They decide what is best for the book. Then they do it, never asking the writer’s opinion.

  Neat deal.

  If they put a great cover on the book, terrific.

  Unless the book finds itself spine-out on the shelves of whatever bookstores deign to carry it. If the book is by a “nobody” and gets no special push by the publisher, that’ll be its position. Most bookstores display thousands of books. The important books arrive by the dozens, sometimes by the hundreds, and are stacked everywhere. Also, every important book is placed on the shelf in such a way that its front cover faces the customer.

  Meanwhile, two or three copies of the no-name’s book are shelved side by side, spine out.

  In such cases, the cover means zilch.

  Because nobody will ever see it.

  Such a situation would make this little essay an excercise in futility. So we’ll shove the spine-out scenario aside and proceed with the assumption that cover is facing the customer.

  If it is a great cover, the book will probably sell like hotcakes.

  If it’s an okay cover, the book will sell okay.

  And if it stinks?

  It can destroy an author’s career.

  Except in a few cases of bestselling authors whose names are enough to sell anything they write, the cover of a book usually means the difference between a hit and a flop. Even with such stars, however, the quality of the cover has an impact on sales.

  If readers are browsing, looking for a new experience rather than going straight to books by familiar authors, their first sight of every book will take in nothing more than its title and cover art. If a certain book catches their eyes because of those elements, then they might pull it off the shelf for a closer look.

  As for the title, it might be the work of the author. Every novel is submitted with a title.

  Maybe half the time, however, the publisher decides to change it. They don’t like the author’s choice in naming his book, so they come up with a “better” one.

  The author might not like the new title, but the publisher has the final say in the matter. If he doesn’t like it, he can lump it.

  As for the cover design and illustration, the writer usually has no input at all. Every decision is made by the publisher. The writer’s first look at the cover comes after it has been printed.

  So the title and cover illustration, the two elements that first draw the eyes of browsers, are out of the author’s control.

  What about the browsers’ next step on the path to purchase?

  After pulling the book off the shelf, they usually read whatever is written on the front cover. Aside from the title and the author’s name (which they’ve never heard of), there is usually a brief descriptive passage about the book. Something like, “When the horror won’t stay on the movie screen,” or “Come to the carnival of death for a screaming good time!” or “The dead are rising to live and lust again!” Who writes this material? Not the author.

  What else is on the front cover?

  Maybe nothing, or maybe a quote that praises the book. Maybe even a couple of quotes.

  We call them “blurbs” or “endorsements.”

  Sometimes, they are phrases plucked
from a published review.

  Other times, they come from authors who are recognized in the field. Sometimes, they are fake.

  My old agent, Jay Garon, was not above making up endorsements and saying they were given by one of his famous clients. ‘“Laymon writes with a typewriter ribbon soaked in cold blood’ Burt Hirschfeld, author of Fire Island.” Nope, Jay Garon. When I found out about the deception, I questioned Mr. Hirschfeld. He said it was okay with him. But he hadn’t read The Cellar and he hadn’t given the quote.

  Mendacity.

  If you look behind the scenes, you’ll find that a lot of quotes come from writers who share the same agent or publisher as the author whose book gets a favorable blurb. Often, too, the creator of the quote is a friend of the author who is on the receiving end. I even know of instances in which an author provided his own endorsements, penning them under a nom de plume.

  (Telling tales out of school, the real question ain’t who wrote the blurb, it’s who wrote the book. Plenty of major bestselling books are not being written by the person whose name appears as the author. Fraud, if you ask me. But that’s another story, and I don’t want to get into it here. If I dealt with it, I’d get my butt sued from fifteen different sides.) Back to cover endorsements.

  If I am asked for an endorsement by a friend or by my own agent or publisher, it’s great if I like the book. But sometimes I don’t. This creates a moral dilemma. Should I be a stand-up guy and give the book a good quote? If I do that, I’m saying to my fans, “Richard Laymon recommends this book.” I hate to do that if I think the book stinks.

  I’ve gone both ways on the issue. If I decide to cave in, however, I’ll make sure to write something mundane and noncommital. Like, “What a book!”

  In other words, my business or personal relationships prevent me from being honest.

  Every author probably faces the same problem. No doubt, plenty of them end up saying nice things about books they can’t stand.

  Publishers put huge amounts of faith in blurbs. Quotes from Stephen King or Dean Koontz are especially treasured. (Even though, when they get such quotes, they sometimes forget to use them.)

  Browsers, however, should not put too much faith in cover blurbs.

  I’m sure a lot of quotes are perfectly legitimate. Publishers often send bound galleys of upcoming books to various authors and reviewers, asking for endorsements. This practice can bring in useful comments from people who are unbiased.

  I am sometimes sent proofs and requests for quotes, myself.

  Strangely enough, I have sometimes been asked for quotes by publishers who refuse to buy my books!

  Where is the logic in that?

  They don’t think I’m good enough to publish, but they obviously believe my name will help the sales of some other writer’s horror novel.

  Give me a break.

  I don’t give them quotes.

  Let us now return our attention to the bookstore browsers.

  In their quest for a good read, they have looked at a book’s title, cover illustration, descriptive passage, and blurb(s).

  None of which the author has had the slightest amount of control over (unless he cheated and wrote his own blurb).

  If still interested, most browsers will probably now turn to the back of the book. (Or inside the dust jacket. That which appears on the back of a paperback can usually be found on the inside flaps of a hardcover’s dust jacket.)

  On the back cover, they’ll find a few sentences or paragraphs that tell what the book is about. This is almost never written by the author. It was probably written by an editor.

  Maybe in collaboration with people in the sales and publicity departments. The author will usually first see this material after the cover has been printed.

  In some cases, the information on the back cover is inaccurate or confusing. Sometimes, it is intentionally misleading. (If the book is a collection of short fiction, they often try to make it appear to be a novel.)

  In some cases, the story description on the back cover gives away every major secret of the book’s plot.

  Even if it doesn’t blow the entire story, it tells the reader enough to ruin plenty of the surprises that the author worked hard to create.

  You never know how much will be given away until you’ve already read the description.

  By then, the damage has been done. If I had my way, nobody would see the back cover of a paperback until after the book has been read.

  What else can be found on a book cover? There might be a photo of the author, but only if he’s a celebrity a movie star or someone who has already written a number of bestsellers. In some cases, even the photos have elements of mendacity. Some were taken twenty years ago. Others depict someone who is not actually the person who wrote the book.

  There’s an old saying, “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

  Which is about as true as any old saying is likely to get.

  In the United States, the author of a book usually has nothing whatsoever to do with just about any aspect of his own book’s cover.

  But if the cover is lousy, the book will not sell.

  And who gets blamed?

  Not the publishing executives who chose the title, chose the cover concept, chose the artist, chose which quotes to use (if any), or wrote the descriptive material on the front and back covers… the only stuff generally seen by browsers before they decide to buy or not to buy a certain book.

  Nope.

  The browser probably made his decision before reading the first sentence of the author’s actual words.

  But the blame for the book’s failure drops like a ton of crap on the head of the author.

  Ironically, publishers seem to believe that their covers are responsible for the success of a book. I once heard a senior person from a major publishing firm claim that the choice of an orange color for a certain paperback made the book a bestseller and launched the stellar career of a certain author whose name we all know.

  So they believe that their covers create bestsellers, but they don’t seem to accept the notion that their covers might also create flops.

  Every flop is the fault of the author.

  And the word gets around.

  In the New York mainstream publishing establishment, everybody knows everybody. And they talk.

  “Oh, his stuff just doesn’t sell. If I were you, I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  All that I’ve just written is subject to debate.

  And I’m sure that exceptions exist.

  Bestselling authors, for instance, certainly have some control over :he packaging of their books. (Oddly enough, even the biggest authors rarely get the final word on such matters.) Also, practices do vary from publisher to publisher.

  And nothing I’ve written here about author involvement with covers should be applied to the U.S. small presses.

  What I wrote is based on my personal experiences with many of the major U.S. establishment publishers and to a lesser extent on my knowledge of what has happened to fellow authors who are friends of mine.

  Like the publishers, we talk.

  The situation I described above also has nothing to do with my experiences with Headline House in the United Kingdom.

  With Headline, I am consulted about the packaging of my books.

  We sometimes wrangle about the titles. Sometimes I win, sometimes I don’t.

  Mike Bailey, who has been my editor for many years, usually asks me for suggestions about cover art. I may give him a couple of ideas. He later sends me some artist’s drawings and asks about my preferences.

  Mike also writes the material for my covers. His descriptions of the novel’s contents are usually based on a synopsis provided by me. He sends all the cover writing to me for approval, and it’s almost always perfect. He is not only a good writer, but he is careful about what he tells.

  A bit different from the U.S., huh?

  Here, I’ve had
absolutely no input about any aspect of any cover. With Headline, I participate in every aspect.

  On at least one occasion, my participation in the cover had some very peculiar consequences.

  Headline publishes my material very fast. They often begin production of a book before I’ve even finished writing it.

  I was still in the middle of writing Island when Mike Bailey called to ask for ideas about the cover art. I told him a little about the story. Then I said that the cover might show a sunny tropical beach with an inlet in the background. Offshore is a yacht. The illustration might be from a viewpoint as if we’re looking out at the beach and yacht from just inside the border of a jungle.

  As we discussed the possibilities, we came up with the idea of showing a palm tree in the foreground with a weapon stuck in its trunk.

  My Headline covers almost always depict a weapon usually a cutting implement: a saw, a meat cleaver, an ax, a knife, etc.

  Whatever it is, it usually drips blood.

  So I told Mike about some of the weapons used in Island.

  He said he would give the matter some thought, talk it over with the artist, others at Headline and Bob Tanner. (Bob seems to have a lot of influence on the packaging of my books.)

  The result, some time later, was a very nice artist’s sketch of the beach and inlet and yacht, with a palm tree in the foreground. A spear was stuck in tree trunk.

  Uh-oh.

  I phoned Mike.

  “It can’t be a spear,” I explained. “They’ve made their spears out of sticks. The points are whittled. They’d never penetrate a tree trunk.”

  Mike, of course, immediately recognized the problem.

  I suggested that the spear be replaced by a Swiss Army knife a sharp weapon that not only appeared in my story but could definitely stick in a tree.

  But I also mentioned the presence on the island of a straight razor.

  The straight razor had already appeared in my book, but had not been used in any significant way. Unlike the Swiss Army knife, which played a bigger role.

  I’m not sure why, but the decision eventually came in against the Swiss Army knife.