I Wanna Be a Sophomore

I'm a Labor & Delivery nurse in my so-called "real" life. In obstetrics, we refer to a woman who has already had babies (one or more) as a multip. They are the most desireable patients, because they know what to do, their bodies have proven themselves and things tend to go more smoothly and quickly. One of the doctors I work with used to joke that it was her life's ambition to be a multip (she is now).

In the record industry, an artist's second album is often called their sophomore album. I honestly don't know if that term is used in publishing, but it's certainly the same idea.

I want to have my first book published and be shopping a second one. I've even heard some agents say that they are harder on their slushpiles than published books. To get out of the pile and onto the shelves, you have to stand out, be amazing, wow everyone with your first page, first paragraph, first sentence. You have to have an amazing query letter, a synopsis that doesn't suck and a book that doesn't need a complete overhaul.

My first impression has to be better than a published author's second, third, or forty-eighth.

So what I want now is to be making a second impression. That's my new goal. Obviously publishing my first novel is a huge part of that process, but now I realize that getting that is a stepping stone. I want a career.

I want to be able to pitch a weird idea and have my agent and my publisher nod enthusiastically and tell me it'll sell.

Is that so much to ask?

- Liz

Jill Kemerer: Cupid's Target: You and Writing

Jill Kemerer: Cupid's Target: You and Writing

In keeping with yesterday's post "SWF Seeks Literary Agent for Long-Term Commitment, Good Times", the talented Jill Kemerer has written a blog about being bitten by the writing bug. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll love it!

SWF Seeks Literary Agent for Long-Term Commitment, Good Times

The other day it occurred to me that the whole pre-publication process is like dating. Maybe this association took me so long to see because I have such a thin dating history myself, and the rest of you are thinking, "Duh," but this is my blog, so I'm going to wax pathetic for bit, capisce?

A query is like a blind date with someone you met through a personal ad or an on-line dating profile. You might be able to learn a little bit about them, or maybe even a lot, but in the end, you're still left to put yourself out there and hope he or she likes you.

When an agent asks for a partial or full manuscript, a writer sort of feels like she's just been asked to go steady. An agent is probably seeing this as more of a second date. I suppose in the world of He's Just Not That Into You, writers are like women and agents are like men. (No offense intended to either gender in this instance.)

That grand shining moment when an agent offers representation can best be compared to a marriage proposal--every writer wants one, and the ones that have an offer and just as girly-squirrely as a newly engaged women. Trust me, I know two of them right now (the fabulous J.A. Souders and Kelly Gibian) and they're giddy. They practically have the vapors. And like a terminally-single friend of a newly engaged woman, I am thrilled to death for them, but not a little jealous.

After the wonder and glamour of the engagement/agenting, the writer "moves in" with her agent, digging deep into revisions and bringing her manuscript to a high gloss. And, together, they start planning the wedding, er, going out on submission. This is when the agent beings his or her own querying process, offering up the project to editors and hoping for that nibble of interest. Or better yet, those dozens of nibbles that lead a book to sell at auction.

So, now you've got a planned release date for your book (a.k.a. your wedding date), but what you never saw coming was how many details there are in planning a wedding. Quite frankly, I'm a little fuzzy on this part, since I'm still in the blind-date phase, but from what I hear, the work has only just begun once you've got a fiancee, I mean agent.

A lot of this is probably self-evident. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.) We could probably overlay any number of application processes, or relationship-based models onto the pre-publication phase. The reason that the dating metaphor rings so true for me is seeing how I, and my writing friends approach the querying process. We really are like women deep in the trenches of dating.

We check our e-mail obsessively, we stalk prospective agents on-line, we dissect every word over every rejection with our friends. We are filled with hope when we get asked on that second date and devastated when a partial or full request ends in rejection. Probably we could all do well to read He's Just Not That Into You and realize that some writer-agent relationships are just never going to work. Both people have to be just as interested in one another. And as any sensible woman will tell you, begging, insulting or continued stalking are not welcome by the object of your affection. It's time to move on.

There are plenty of fish in the sea.

- Liz

Anyone care to extend this metaphor? Share a story of agenting heartbreak?