Authors' Thread (New! Improved! Now With 10% More Questions!)

Re: Authors' Thread

--CON'T.

Anansi’s parent company, Stoddart, went bankrupt just before the release. The book was late in stores and publicity was virtually nonexistent.

Arcade never paid the advance they owed, and still have not to this day.

Yellow Jersey paid the advance, and the book did surprisingly well in the UK -- there was a second trade edition, which didn’t happen anywhere else.

But I never earned out my advance -- I never made any money above the initial payment. In Canada, I sold 991 copies, which I’m reminded of every six months, when I get my royalty statement.

I also recently got a letter saying boxes of the book were cluttering Anansi’s warehouse (they printed 5,000 copies) and that I could buy them for two bucks each.

That’s a comedown, believe me. Also, it’s probably the future for ninety percent of authors, especially first-time authors.

Now, mea culpa, the book is not very good. 70,000 words is a short book -- around 200 pages. It also reads rushed, because I wrote it quickly, and the Canadian edition has several (like, a couple dozen) glaring typos. You really do get out of these things what you put into them, and I wrote an entire book the way I’d write a newspaper story. It’s not the same task. You need to outline things; you need to take your time; you need to polish the shit out of it. Writing a book is nice because it feels more permanent, like it might be your legacy; but that makes them ghosts that haunt you, too.

The experience was such that I vowed never to write another book.

Fast forward to Masters golf tournament, Augusta, 2004.

At this point, I’d been at Esquire for a couple of years. I had an agent, a very good agent, named David Black. (He is also Mitch Albom’s agent, slappy might be interested to know.) He became my agent almost by default -- because he’s the agent for a few of us at Esquire. It just sort of happened.

I bounced a few ideas around with him, but very half-assed, because my heart wasn’t really in it. Falling Hard had sucked the booklife out of me. But David was encouraging and good to me -- as well as very tough on ideas. If I got an idea past him, I knew I was gold. That’s a good agent, right there -- no leading on, no false promises. If David said he could sell something, he could sell it.

So my new vow was to find the right idea.

When, in the press room at the Masters, my email blinked: “Your life just changed. Call me.”

I called David, and he said I had a book to write. “About what?” I asked. I really had no idea.

At the time, I had submitted a draft story called HOME about three astronauts who were on the space station when Columbia was lost. My editor-in-chief, David Granger, had lunch with Bill Thomas, an editor at Doubleday, and mentioned the story. Bill asked if he could read it. He did, contacted David Black, and they came to an agreement. All without my knowing about it.

The advance was for a ridiculous sum of money. (Forget about David taking his deserved fifteen percent, and Canadian taxes, and the pressure that comes with that kind of coin -- it really does give you the sweats.)

At the time, there was just a pure, unfettered euphoria. I called my wife and screamed into the phone. All these golf writers must have thought my marriage was ending. It was a great moment.

Then came what I thought would be the hard part. The writing.

But first came what would prove to be the hardest part. THAT FUCKING TWO BOOK DEAL I SIGNED IN 2000.

The next few months were probably the worst of my professional life. Yelling, lawyers, nastiness. Very often, the deal looked done.

At last, it was agreed that Anansi would publish the book in Canada, but would relinquish world rights to Doubleday. In exchange, I got $20,000 less from Doubleday -- which means, in essence, I ended up writing Falling Hard to lose $4,000. That’s hard arithmetic. (Did I mention that I would never, ever sign a contract without an agent so long as we both shall live?)

But, finally, the writing. NASA didn’t cooperate. That made things tough. (Almost give up tough.) The curse of non-fiction, of course, is your reliance on your subjects -- or, in some cases, your subjects’ employer. But a few things fell into place, and a few people helped me out when they probably shouldn’t have, and my real work began.

I took my time with it this time around -- nearly two years, all told.

Bill Thomas was as good an editor as I could have hoped for.

I didn’t take a leave from Esquire, but my editors there were supportive as well.

I worked on the book mostly at night, after my day job was done, and the house was quiet. I tried to practice good desk discipline. I sweated. Looking back, though, I kind of treasure those gas lamp hours, the head games you play with yourself, watching the word count number lift into respectability. It’s like a round of golf. You don’t think about anything else. If you do this, prepare to be consumed. Even unhinged.

In the end, I came out with 104,000 hard-won words...

CON'T--

 

Re: Authors' Thread

--CON'T.

(A diversion: Even though my advance was sweet, it worked out, per word, to what a good magazine freelancer would make. That’s important to understand, I think. Even a big deal isn’t going to set you up for life. Only a bestseller will do that -- and even then, only an Oprah bestseller. Do not write a book thinking it will make you a millionaire. Write it because you want to write a book -- that’s what you control. That, fifty years from now, is what you can guarantee you’ll still own: the book, twirling in your hands.)

Next came months of editing and lots of fun little things -- author photo shoot, catalogue copy, advance review copies, the first few press interviews... A nice little build up to launch.

This here place helped there, too, I must say. A lot of my excitement for the book was boosted by the kind words from this community, and thanks for that.

Then, the book came out -- ta da. (By the way, the title changed from HOME to TOO FAR FROM HOME -- a little sexier, I guess; one day I’ll get one that sticks.) I did a three-week tour, which was fun and exhausting at the same time. I remember I did a radio show in Chicago until close to midnight, and I was on a plane at six the next morning, in time to watch the sun rise in Denver -- I was pretty near delirious.

But yeah, it’s fun. I saw someone in New York buy my book when I was browsing for another. (I went up to him and thanked him, had a nice chat.) I saw a lot of the country. I had some really good readings. (I also had ten people show up at others. At a book store in Denver, I was told that J.K. Rowling had three people at her first reading there -- her media minder, the store representative, and some old man looking for a quiet place to nap.) I drank with essjayers in NYC and Chicago and DC.

There were reviews, too. Lots of reviews, all of them some degree of positive, which was great. But still, I stressed.... It’s a weird feeling, starting to read one of your reviews. Gut-checking, for sure. Your pulse picks up. Hell, you need a thick skin even to think of putting yourself out there like that.

And then the New York Times review was due to come out. I was told that the success of the book might hinge on it.

I was in downtown Ottawa, doing a couple of radio interviews when it came out online. Oblivious, I opened my front door, and my wife was crying. I thought someone had died. Just my book had.

The review was dumb, but it was also the New York Times. It trumped positive reviews from USA Today and Entertainment Weekly. It was it.

And that pretty much ended things, as far as promotion went. It was about a six-week window for the book, and then it was on to the next one -- for me and for the publisher.

I’m okay with that. That’s the deal.

Too Far from Home was nothing bad. It just wasn’t THE PERFECT STORM or INTO THIN AIR. It wasn’t everything I hoped for -- every author, if they’re being honest, hopes for the moon. I got about halfway up the rocket.

That being said, I like it better than my first book by a whole lot. The experience of it was much better. Doubleday printed 71,000 copies, which is a big step up from 5,000. It sold in Japan. There’s going to be another edition, a paperback next year. So it’s still alive. It’s still breathing. I haven’t got a letter yet saying I can buy boxes of it for two bucks a pop.

It’s also doing well in Canada, where books last a little longer -- they take a longer view of them up here.

And there are still openings for it. I’ve sold the film rights -- which is gravy; if you can come up with an idea that translates, it’s not a bad way to go -- to a company called Working Title. They’ve been great. I wrote the treatment for them (a pre-script) for union wages. They’re hiring someone else to write the script, but they’re encouraging of my hopes of writing a film one day. And maybe if this movie gets made -- a million to one shot -- then maybe I’ll be in the running for another adventure, maybe another edition of the book, maybe some time on Oprah’s couch.

But that’s a lot of maybes.

So in the meantime, it’s on to the next one.

Now it’s back to ideas. It’s back to the beginning. It’s back to the desk.

And maybe this one will be the bestseller. Or maybe it does nothing, and no one wants to pay me to write another book again.

Yes, it’s art, it’s business, but most of all, it’s gambling.

It’s also life and legacy.

Get writing.

But first, get an agent.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Hey Jones, I've had a book idea - beginning to end - in my head for about three or four years but I put off writing it because I'm afraid I'm not as good as I think I am. Now I think I am close to finally squeezing it out like a festering zit. You really think I should worry about an agent first?

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Lyric, ultimately it's up to you.

That being said, getting an agent now (although that'll be tough if you haven't written a book before, but anyway) will:

1) Prevent you from putting a ton of work into a book that a publisher won't buy.

2) Possibly get you some cash now so that you can concentrate on writing the book and not worry about how you're going to eat.

3) And keep most editors and publishers from ignoring (and possibly yelling at) you for submitting a full manuscript when all they want is a good idea and a few smart pages.

But, if you're going to write this zit of a book no matter what, then by all means, write the book and see what happens.

It's just a little like building a house without knowing anyone will want to live in it.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

I wanted to say that. Probably sounds better coming from you.

Folks, there is zero truth to the myth that you have to be published or famous to get an agent. What you need is a good idea, the ability to work your connections so you can get to the right agent, and very thick skin.

Even if you have a modest little deal on the table, and you think "those publishing people seem so nice, why give away 10-15% to an agent"....have someone look at the contract, even on an hourly basis. If you've never been through it before, you can't imagine the funkiness buried in a publishing contract.

Also, a good agent will tell you the truth, unlike your mom, your brother, your college roommate, the guy at work---everyone who says "Wow, I'd buy that book for sure!" They lie. A good agent will tell you what you don't want to hear, but you need to hear it anyway.

And never, ever, sign a two book deal...unless you can retire on the advance.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Thanks. It makes a lot of sense and I hadn't given it a lot of thought before now.

I was just thinking about what you or someone else said on here earlier about writing a book for the right reasons - not because you want to get rich but you need to write it - I think that's been a big part of my problem. I want to write it for me but I sometimes find myself worrying what the payoff/fallout will be from hitting the stop-motion button on my life. If I worry about an agent and marketing before I get the first word out, I may never get it out.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Thanks, Jonesy, for a wonderful post.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

jgmacg -- 1/100th of your contribution around here.

Lyric, don't get me wrong -- I believe in writing for writing's sake. I write for no one but me all the time.

But don't doubt how much work writing a book is. It's months, probably years of effort. And I hate to think of all that sweat and hope going into something that will then sit in a desk drawer. That's where I'm at.

You're thinking too negatively about an agent, by the way. You're thinking of him or her as a kind of hurdle -- as the mountain you have to climb before you climb the mountain. But what if you find someone who gives you just the boost you need to get started? A good agent is part cheerleader, part therapist, part financial planner. You find the right one, you might be farther along then you think -- with the added peace that comes with knowing your work will not be for naught. I'm probably wrong here, but I don't believe that suffering makes for good writing, or at least not always. There is nothing wrong with writing from comfort. It steadies the hand, at least.

Oh, and swenk -- where the fuck were you seven years ago, goddammit?

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Thank you again. I also enjoyed your initial post.

Another question: When do agents expect to get paid? Up front? How much-ish?

 

Re: Authors' Thread

If an agent wants money upfront, run away.

An agent takes a percentage of your advance. You don't pay them if they don't get you a deal.

Ten to fifteen percent is standard, I think.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Wow. Thank you very much. Might be the incentive I needed.

 

Re: Authors' Thread

Actually, and I think I can speak for Jonesy here, the agent takes his/her cut when the publisher cuts the check. in fact, your advance likely will be drawn, not on the publisher's account, but on that of the agent. A good agent -- and I have a great one -- is your pit boss, as IJAG might put it. He makes sure the set-up's right before you go into Turn 4 at 200 mph. Which you will, at some point, during the process. As Duvall says in Days of Thunder -- everybody's gotta pit, Cole. He/she will also be your bulwark against the various brigands and incompetents that work for publishing companies, which is where the real damage to books gets done, trust me on this.
The tours -- at least mine -- are a strange and wonderful thing. Once, I walked into a B&N in NYC and I heard what I thought was my book being read over the PA system This is cool, I thought. Then, I saw that what actually was going on was the fact that a guy -- one of 15 people there -- had had a laryngectomy and was reading my book to his wife using one of those mechanical voicebox deals.
Ah, fame.