In Times Like These...

So why should anyone be interested in my book when our attention should be focused on all the horrible things happening in the world today?

Given my current obsession, I reframe that question in the context of "Why should any agent care about some novel by an unknown author when everyone's distracted by what may be the onset of apocalypse?"

The simple answer: my book is all about what's going on today. As described in my query letter, COME THE HARPIES is "a timely, action-packed satire that imagines an America fifty-six years in the future based on what's happening around us right now."

It has one superpower (China) decimated by a viral pandemic. Another superpower (America) ruled by white nationalist corporate elites who have reintroduced black slavery, rescinded all environmental and gun laws, and features a climate-driven apocalypse.

It sounds pretty dark, but it's not your typical gloom-and-doom dystopian novel because there's a lot of laughs sprinkled in as it depicts our poor twisted nation as it circles the drain.

You may think that people are depressed enough about what's going on in the world that they don't need to be reminded how it could get even worse by reading a book like mine. And, in fact, one agent rejected it for that very reason. "But it's funny," I replied. He wasn't buying.

But I think he's wrong. Sales of dystopian novels go up in dystopian times. When people are going through a difficult period, books like 1984, Brave New World, The Stand, and Handmaid's Tale fly off the shelves. I don't get it, but they do. One of my readers even noted, "It's rather ironic that I found your book to be a welcome escape at a time when many of the dystopian situations reflected in its pages are dangerously manifesting in real life..."

I think many readers think along the same lines. One of the largest and most active groups on Goodreads focuses on dystopian novels. There are literally thousands of members--they can't seem to get enough of this stuff.

Maybe agents are tired of seeing apocalyptic story submissions, but there's a hungry audience for them out there. At least I hope.

What to Report When There's Nothing to Report

These days of Covid-19 all-day every day on cable news, in the daily papers and on peoples' lips have created an unpleasant monotony that sours life around us. As the worst thing that has happened to the world in our lifetime, the pandemic has squeezed out all the other things that may be worth taking up in the national conversation.

Other news, if there is other news, is drowned out by constant talk of infections, death tolls, vaccines,  economic disaster, social distancing, face masks, re-openings, re-closings, ventilators, first responders, crushing curves, lockdowns and on and on. My one refuge, professional sports, is dead. My teams are not even playing. The best sports on TV right now is a 10-part documentary highlighting the Michael Jordan Bulls-run of championships...way back in the 1990s! And I hated the Bulls!

We are living in a period of suspended animation. Even the various wars that took up space on the front page seem to be on hold, anything happening in the arts is on hold, publishers and film companies are putting new releases on hold, even the November election seems to be on hold, even though it isn't (so far). Covid is taking up all the oxygen and there's precious little else to talk about.

Even this blog, which is about my publishing effort, doesn't have much to report. Seems that I'm in good shape: strong manuscript, good query letter, and a long list of potential agents to approach. This week 10 more submissions go out.

But the gorilla in the room is the August 14-16 Writer's Digest Conference in New York City, where I will be pitching my book to seven or eight agents--if Covid-19 doesn't cancel the event. These in-person encounters make me uncomfortable, but they usually result in a request for manuscript pages, probably because it may be awkward for an agent to turn down a writer in person. It's much easier to do a kiss-off via email.

I'll spend the next couple of weeks perfecting my pitch and the following months practicing my delivery so that it sounds relatively natural by August. Two hundred words of pure torture. Given the static situation in the world, I have plenty of time to terrify myself over the prospect.

Do Top Agents Read Their Slush?

Among the many dispiriting aspects of submitting a literary work for agent review is the suspicion that our carefully honed queries and snippets of manuscripts will never be seen by the actual agents to whom they're being sent.

Most agents find themselves drowning in a large "slush pile" of submissions from unpublished writers hoping to be discovered. Since we writers are quite aware that agencies employ assistants and interns to help with the workload, we tend to believe that these still "wet-behind-the-ears" post-grads are actually the ones who winnow the slush pile down to what their inexperienced eyes believe are potentially promising projects.

It sucks to think that the manuscript you spent years developing and have invested a considerable sum in being professionally vetted and edited was being judged by some neophyte fresh out of college. Since I'm restarting my querying effort this week--and for my own peace of mind--I decided to spend some time to find out if it's really true that top agents relegate slush pile duty to support staff.

And the good news is: they probably don't! To my surprise, almost all my sources indicated that even the most successful agents at least glance at all the submissions that come his or her way. This is succinctly explained by Mark Malatesta, a well-known book coach:

Most literary agents worry (like you) that a junior team member (even a well-trained one) might reject a good book. A bestselling book. As a result, the majority (90%+) of literary agents don’t delegate query and manuscript review.

He goes on to say: 

So, don’t worry about your talent being undiscovered due to the whims or inexperience of an assistant or intern. Nine times out of ten, agents are making the decisions. Not only are they (rightfully) paranoid about missing out on the next big book. They also, nine times out of ten, will tell you they enjoy discovering the next big book.

Not only is this reassuring to the writer, it also makes a lot of sense. In the end, I want to make sure that my book is being rejected by the very best!

Writing While Shaggy

I need a haircut. Bad. If it doesn't happen soon, I think my writing will fall off a cliff.

Back in the bad old days when I was working a real job in marketing communications at an investment company, I sometimes took advantage of the opportunity to work from home. It was a pretty neat benefit. I got to skip the hour commute on clanky NJ Transit trains infested with hacking, sneezing commuters engaged in obnoxiously loud cell phone conversations and the depressing prospect of trying to get work done in my freezing office in Newark while tuning out the gossipy noise of my fellow workers.

But it seems that I was less productive at home. And my writing wasn't as sharp. I felt disconnected working in my basement and distracted by all the undone projects around the house staring at me as I was trying to build website content for various product launches. Plus, I'm not good on the telephone and conference calls make my skin crawl.

But I think a major part of it is I don't write well in sweatpants. I think it affects my thinking. When I dress sloppy, my writing gets sloppy. Writing requires extreme focus and discipline. So for me, at least, the whole process of putting on a suit, getting on the train, walking to the office, and sitting at my computer put me in the proper mindset: it's time to work. Yeah, even among the hubbub of the office and the horror of my bosses and co-workers, I was able to escape into my head and turn out decent prose. I also wrote four books under those conditions.

I worried when I retired whether I would still be able to write, given that my new office is a table in the corner of the basement. Would I need to resort to wearing a suit while sitting next to my furnace and a few steps away from the cat's litter box? To my immense relief, I found a way to not only write at home, but to write even better.

I started a new routine. Every morning at 9:45, I put down the NY Times, go down to the basement, bring up MS Word and write for at least an hour. I make sure I'm wearing clean underwear and a reasonably unstained sweatshirt and...pants (usually). But the key is I do it every day like a robot. Just like when I was working. The result so far is COME THE HARPIES, my best book to date.

But the challenges of Covid-19 are mounting. My hair is out of control and a mess. It worries me that the mess will spread to my brain and my prose will lose its iron discipline. What if the sloppiness migrates to my attire and I allow stubble to sprout on my cheeks? It's easy to let things go during a pandemic.

It all starts with the fingernails. They're getting pretty long...



   

Draft Completed...Next Steps

I've spent the last six weeks inputting line-edit changes and addressing 44 different editorial issues and suggestions from my editor. It was a time-consuming, arduous process but also very rewarding. I believe that my most recent changes have tightened and deepened the story and characters. I'm filled with confidence that this manuscript is as good as I can make it...and certainly good enough to do battle in the current publishing market.

So, next steps. This will be a busy week. I will contact my editor and summarize the changes I've made to the manuscript to see if she has any further suggestions. I will also make minor revisions to my query letter based on her suggestions in terms of positioning the book in the market. Finally, I will resume the query process, which I suspended in January to pass the manuscript through another professional edit.

Based on suggestions from the principals at Book Doctors, I will be more aggressive in my query process. For example, when I receive rejections or don't hear from an agent in more than four weeks, I will follow up with an email asking what they saw lacking in my sample. Chances are the agent never even reviewed my sample and just ignored it or rejected it to get it out of their inbox. The purpose of my follow-up email is to potentially get the recipient to actually read the damn thing! At this point, I'm so brainwashed by the quality of my book that I believe any sensible agent will find it hard to resist.

Hell, it's worth a try!

The Book Doctors also have other strategies to attract an agent's attention--I suggest you get their book if you have serious designs on publishing.

In addition to querying agents, I'm going to solicit a couple of small publishers each month who don't require agency representation.

My new motto: Leave no stone unturned.