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How To Write Magical Words: A Writer's Companion

Page 29

by Unknown


  Faith Hunter

  One of the benefits of MagicalWords.net is the opportunity for as-yet-unpublished writers to read info like this. Agents and editors don’t have time to reply to every query/partial/whole manuscript in depth. Getting something like Robin got, from a reputable agent, is like a gift of gold. Foolish is the writer who wants to wait until after a book is sold to make any changes. And I’ve met some like that.

  Networking

  Stuart Jaffe

  Networking is, quite simply, the act of building business relationships. That’s it. It’s talking and laughing and sometimes even drinking. It’s lunches and dinners and talk in the hallways and elevators. It’s intriguing conversation and boring dialogue.

  Networking is getting to know people in the industry so that at some point down the road—not right then and there—you could get a little pay off. That might sound cold and calculating, but remember, this is a business relationship, not a friendship. Sometimes friendships develop, but initially, you’re networking is business oriented.

  So, here are some practical guidelines for those initial conversations:

  1. Relax.

  Easier said than done, I know. But the truth is that you’re not in disguise, secretly infiltrating anyone’s ultra-guarded, hidden lair, so you don’t need to worry while talking to Faith that she’ll point her finger at you and say, "Aha! Imposter! You don’t belong here! You are not worthy to speak to me!" Not going to happen. With extremely few exceptions, all the authors I’ve ever met love to talk with other writers. Those who have been published know and understand how hard it is to achieve publication. They also know somebody who has helped them along. They want to return the favor. And the first step is talking. But . . .

  2. Don’t be NEEDY.

  You can’t go up to people wanting/needing things from them. It oozes off of you and turns them away. Just try to talk like a normal human being and not an aspiring writer who really, really, really, really wants to get published. Forget about asking for your manuscript to be read. Instead, find something worth talking about that’s not about you. If you saw the author in a panel, come up with a point regarding something she said. If you like his writing, tell him so (authors love positive reinforcement). The point here is, don’t go into the conversation trying to get something from the author. If the author offers, great. If not, that’s fine, too. Have your pitch ready just in case, but don’t go in expecting to pitch. First time around, you simply want to make a good impression, or at least, not a bad one.

  3. Slow down.

  Networking is a long-term process. You build relationships by being a friendly, reliable, trustworthy person. You need to show that a) you’re not going to be annoying, b) you might be interesting, and c) you understand and appreciate the professional nature of networking. The things you’re craving to have these people see—your ability to write, for example—will be discovered later, often while you’re not even looking.

  4. We’re all in the same boat.

  All that time you spent fretting about approaching Misty to tell her you liked Mad Kestrel, all that time you wasted sweating over how best to say hello to David or A.J.—well, the truth is, they’re going through it, too (just not over you). David probably had to swallow a hard lump of nervousness before approaching George R. R. Martin. And I guarantee you that we all would be sweating if we had the chance to meet Stephen King or Neil Gaiman. See, networking never ends. Meeting those that share the same level of success as you does make it easier (it certainly gives you common ground to talk about), but there is always somebody higher up that you want to network with and it’s always hard. Luckily, authors, agents, and editors are usually nice, approachable, and happy to chat for a short time—which is all you want, initially.

  5. Have something to offer.

  This is my best advice. It’s the opposite of being needy. When I first started networking, I was writing book reviews for several venues. After a simple, undemanding conversation, I could always end by offering to review the author’s book. I was doing something for them—not the other way around. The end result was a good networking contact. The author knows I’m not just self-serving, but I’m willing to do things for him. So, figure out if you have something worthwhile to give. The rewards can be immense.

  Please note that these "rules" (really just guidelines) are not intended for the fan who just wants an autograph and a little gush time. This is about the business side of things. Some authors you’ll meet will break these business rules quite successfully; some expect you to follow them rigidly. You have to gauge each situation as it comes. Also, this essay is about the first few times you meet with a professional. After that relationship is established, it will define itself, including what is acceptable and what is over-the-line.

  Ultimately, networking is about your people skills. The better you are at dealing with others, the more success you will have in this endeavor. Be patient. It takes time and mistakes to learn how to do it.

  §§§

  Sarah Goslee

  Very nice. I think it all boils down to: be polite, be professional. Very few pros are amateur-eating monsters, but everyone is turned off by inappropriate and unprofessional behavior.

  Not fiction-related, but the same kind of networking happens at other professional conferences. I attended one earlier this year, and the very coolest thing happened. BiggestNameInTheField spent the entire opening reception wandering around the room with a beer, walking up to random groups of people. "Hi, I’m X" (as if we didn’t know!). "Are you a grad student", or if that seemed unlikely "Where do you work?"

  It was awesome. I never expect to be BigName, but I hope that if I’m ever in a similar situation I’ll remember his behavior.

  Con Tips

  Misty Massey

  I was recently a guest at Balticon, the Maryland Regional Science Fiction and Fantasy Convention. While I was there, I met a number of con-goers who hope to be published one day, and who’d come to meet authors and editors and get a little help in that direction. The vast majority of these hopefuls were great people, full of interesting questions and just as pleasant as they could be, and they were definitely in the right place. Publishing professionals attend cons because we want to share, and we love meeting not-yet-published writers with their goals firmly envisioned. But every now and then someone pops up that makes a con guest want to run screaming to the safety of her room. One very nice young lady asked me how she’d know if she was being overbearing or obnoxious, and I told her that if she was concerned enough to ask, she was probably neither one. So how do you know if you’re being fabulous or freakazoid?

  1. Ask questions and listen to the answers.

  I sat in on a few panels and served on others, and I noticed that people would occasionally ask questions, then start chatting with a neighbor during the ensuing answer. Maybe there’s only one author on the panel whose opinion you are initially interested in hearing, but that doesn’t mean the other three or four authors don’t have something to say that you ought to hear. As we say often here on Magical Words, there is no one right way to do anything. One of those authors might have just the answer you need.

  2. Pay attention to what others ask, and listen to the answers.

  Nothing gets under my skin like audience members who ask the same question someone else just asked and received the answer to. It means that he was so busy composing his question in his head he wasn’t really listening to the panel. If all he wanted to achieve was ten seconds of speaking directly to the authors, he might as well have waited until the signings. Participate fully in what the whole audience is doing, so the short time isn’t wasted.

  3. Remember that you’re not the only person in the audience.

  This happens at least once at every con I’ve ever attended. Someone in the audience decides she’s having a personal conversation with the panelists, and chimes in every few minutes with some lengthy comment or other. The panelists know that sometimes audience members may have
more knowledge than they do about a subject, and appreciate hearing the occasional comment. But when one audience member acts as if she is a secondary panelist, it irritates the rest of the audience who came to hear the panelists speak. Not to mention adding work for the poor moderator, who has enough trouble wrangling the panelists. Share if it’s important, but don’t monopolize the hour.

  4. Don’t dis anyone.

  Maybe it’s because I was raised by a strict Southern mother who insisted that I say nothing at all if I had nothing nice to say, but I don’t think it’s right to trash other authors during panels. Even if they’re multimillionaires who probably don’t care what a few folks on a panel think, don’t go there. But it’s not just authors you should spare. Don’t dis agents or editors either. I’m aware of an incident in which a writer was trying to convince an editor to ask for her manuscript. In the course of conversation, the writer said some unkind things about an agent who’d offered her representation. The writer didn’t realize the agent was a good friend of the editor. Oops.

  5. Easy on the alcohol, and remember that people are watching what you do.

  In the evenings, the parties start. Publishers host parties to promote their authors, authors host parties to celebrate book launches, fan groups host parties to attract more members . . . there is never a dearth of partying at a con. Go, dance, sing, drink and have a wonderful time, but know your limits. If two glasses of wine are enough to start you dancing on tables, control yourself and drink only one. Publishing is a tightly-knit business; everyone knows everyone else and people remember if you act outrageously. Blaming it on the alcohol is just an excuse. The wine didn’t force itself down your throat.

  And a codicil to this . . . sometimes folks go to cons in the hope of a little freaky-deaky. Be aware that if you stagger down a hallway trading sloppy kisses with your chosen hook up, people notice. If you don’t want to face those knowing snickers in the con suite the next morning (or an angry spouse), for God’s sake be discreet.

  6. Embrace personal hygiene.

  Antiperspirant. Toothpaste. Shampoo and soap. I hate that this needs to be said, but I always run into at least one or two people who don’t take the time to properly prepare themselves. Maybe you live in a naturalist commune in which everyone bathes with water only and appreciates the odors of the body, but when you’re coming to a con, don’t ever assume the other con-goers think that way. If you habitually wear perfume or cologne, tone it way, way down. Some people are allergic, and you don’t want to be responsible for their misery.

  Cons are a marvelous place to meet like-minded souls as well as your favorite authors, and we sure do want to see you! Just remember these tips so that all of us will enjoy ourselves!

  §§§

  Moira Young

  Oh, yes. A list like this should be mandatory reading for every convention and conference. #3 especially.

  I attend Penny Arcade Expo, a video game convention in Seattle, and they make a big deal about all of these points. Of course, they also have their resident deity, Secretary of Geek Affairs Wil Wheaton, and his number-one catch phrase is now law: "Don’t be a dick."

  David B. Coe

  The one I would add to this is: Respect people’s personal space. Many people at cons are openly affectionate. They give hugs to one another, place their hands on each other’s backs and shoulders in casual conversation. That’s fine. If you know the person, and you know for certain that he or she doesn’t mind, grope to your heart’s content. But there are also people at cons who do not like to have their physical space violated, and unfortunately some of the former give nary a thought to the feelings of the latter. Keep your hands, hugs, caresses and kisses to yourself.

  A.J. Hartley

  Another one to add: Don’t pitch your story unless asked to, and when you do, do it briefly with a few well-chosen phrases. I was passing a stall at a con once when a young guy who had self-pubbed a novel asked if I liked edgy fantasy. Trying to be supportive, I said yes. He launched into a point by point plot summary of his book without pausing for breath. I stood there for a couple of minutes feeling embarrassed and irritated, then apologized and walked away. When people offer an inch (out of the kindness of their hearts) don’t take a mile.

  So There I Was, In the Elevator, And Who Walked In?

  Misty Massey

  Blurb

  (blûrb):

  1. a brief advertisement or announcement, esp. a laudatory one

  2. to advertise or praise

  I’m sure you’re familiar with blurbs on book covers, lines of praise that are used to help sell the book. Blurbs are also excellent tools for the author approaching an agent or editor. I don’t know how many of you have been to any writing conferences or met many agents. Sometimes these events are so crowded that your chance at a one-on-one may come in an elevator, or while waiting in line for the lunch buffet. Trust me . . . if you luck onto two minutes of an agent’s undivided attention, you’d better be prepared. There are a thousand people ready to jump in when the agent turns his head in another direction, and you want him to remember you.

  Say I’ve written the gripping saga of Lisette, a lady’s maid in fin de siecle Portugal, who discovers her own latent magical ability to throw fire from her eyes when she accidentally sets the family home on fire while the lord of the manor is molesting her, and must learn to control her strength while she’s on the run from the Inquisitor and his vicious knifemen who hope to catch her and cut out her heart, which will transfer her power to the Inquisitor if he consumes it. Oh, and she falls in love with one of the knifemen when he meets her in her disguise as a stable lad, did I mention that?

  Yeah, that’s long. And unwieldy. If the elevator is an express, we probably reached the agent’s floor before I got to the part about the knifemen. Since I would never dream of following the agent to his hotel room (and I’m sure you all know the bathroom is even MORE off limits!), I’ve blown my great chance. So what should I have done?

  The seven second blurb is the one you’ve prepped for just this sort of occasion. It’s the general idea in a few carefully chosen and delivered words. You’re not trying to tell the agent everything. You’re just trying to make his eyes light up. Instead of the lengthy paragraph, I could say, "Lisette’s magic will set Portugal ablaze, unless she discovers a way to control her passions." It’s quick, it’s full of strong words, and it tells the agent enough to know whether he wants to hear more. If the agent is interested on the basis of the seven-second blurb, that’s when I can take a little longer and spill my thirty-second blurb. Something like, "Lisette never knew she could create fire with her thoughts until the day she nearly killed her family. Now she’s in hiding from the Inquisitor who hopes to cut out her heart and take her power for himself. Only when she learns to control her power will she defeat the Inquisitor and find true happiness." See? Still short and to the point, and probably enough to make an interested agent ask for three chapters and a synopsis.

  §§§

  David B. Coe

  I have to say that in dealing with an agent, I prefer the blurb that shows I’ve thought about how to market my book. For instance, my blurb for Sorcerers’ Plague: "It’s a medical thriller set in a medieval fantasy." It gives a sense of who it might appeal to, how one might sell it to a publisher, and it even has a hint of alliteration to make it easier for the agent to remember.

  Charles E. Dunkley

  I have a one sentence blurb about my WIP, but reading the one David B. Coe just posted puts a whole new angle on pitching a book in a single sentence.

  Here’s my one second blurb, which I jotted down in my LJ back in August:

  What if the only way to save your family’s throne was to betray it?

  But looking again at David’s that will take some thinking.

  David B. Coe

  Once again I offer the "there’s no right way to do this" caveat. As I said, that’s what I prefer, because I think that agents think in terms of marketing. But I like that blur
b CE, and I really think it would be great as the teaser line at the top of the back cover of your book.

  The Ideal Editor

  Faith Hunter

  I’ve written previously about the importance of a good, professionally trained, experienced, NYC publishing house, acquisitions editor. There were a lot of comments and questions, including this one:

  "What qualifies an editor to be an editor? Where do editors gain and/or hone their talent for improving a writer’s work? Is it just practice via critiquing?"

  First, off, there is a major difference between an edit and a critique.

  A thorough edit addresses pacing, plot progression, character development, plot and story arcs, the very structure and heart and soul of a novel or story. It breaks down a story into its component parts and rebuilds it with more flesh, bigger muscle, and a tightness to the composition that is often staggering. This doesn’t count the copy edit, line edit, etc. which are usually done by others, not a book’s actual editor.

  Second, I know of very few NYC editors who write. Okay, let’s be honest. I know of none. Not one. There was one some years back who left the biz to become a writer, then later stopped writing. But I know of no editors who have the time or energy to work 60+ hours a week and then write, too.

 

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