A lot of writers hear the well-meaning advice that, in order to break in more easily, they should have some writing clips and credits to their resume. It’s good advice, and I especially don’t want to disenfranchise the many writers who have been actively pursuing this strategy with my answer, because it is a very worthwhile strategy.
In case you haven’t thought about this issue before, I’ll summarize here: When you’re an aspiring writer, you have a lot of ambition to write, but not a lot of platform. People aren’t buying what you want to sell, basically. Or, if they are, they aren’t really paying you for it. You’re probably getting opportunities to showcase your work on blogs and at other web-based venues that don’t have a budget to compensate contributors. Or maybe you start your own blog, like this ol’ hack did! This is how a lot of people get going.
Then you think that there has to be more out there that’s, well, more noteworthy to a potential publishing gatekeeper. So maybe you explore other avenues to showcase your work. Whether it’s in the children’s writing realm, say, Highlights Magazine, or in an unrelated area, like an op-ed for the local newspaper, or a poem in a general fiction literary journal, you start to set your sights higher.
Whether you try to gather clips in print journalism, the literary community, scientific or medical magazines (a lot of writers have done a lot of technical writing for their day jobs), etc., you’re basically writing and racking up pieces that someone else has vetted and decided are good enough to publish.
This all makes a lot of sense, right? If you want to write, write, and maybe the momentum of all your writing will speed up your efforts on the book publishing front. Being published is being published, no matter what you’re publishing. And writing professionals love to see writing credits. Right? Weeeeeeeeeell…
It’s not often that clear-cut. Publishing an op-ed in your local paper in Portland is not the magic ticket to calling attention to yourself with a children’s book editor in New York, unless, of course, your op-ed or Huffpo article causes such a stir that it goes “viral” and attracts a lot of attention or controversy. In fact, under my original name (a much longer version of “Kole”), I published an op-ed in the Los Angeles Times, which is a notable newspaper that people have heard of. And I thought, for sure, this was my golden ticket. The day it ran, I waited for the phone to ring. Aaaaand…my mother was very proud of me. Then one man from Idaho took offense at my sense of humor. That’s about it.
The fact of the matter is, if you can say in your query that you’ve published with a top-tier publication that most casual readers have heard of, that’s going to be an amazing feather in your cap. And agents and editors might take notice. But it’s likely not going to get you a book publishing contract.
And outside of that, if you’re publishing on blogs, or in smaller literary magazines, or in venues that have nothing whatsoever to do with publishing novels, then your clips are going to tell a potential agent or editor one positive thing, but one positive thing only: That you’ve hustled a little and know a little bit about the process. And that’s a positive thing, because that might indicate that you’re at least somewhat easy to work with during the publishing process. But it’s not a guarantee of anything.
My main objection to splitting your focus and concentrating on amassing clips if your primary goal is to publish a book can be expressed in this recent post. The truth of the matter is, some journalists spend years trying to crack the New York Times for their own resumes. It’s an entirely new skillset. First, there’s learning how to write well enough that the Times would take interest. Then it’s cultivating contacts and editor relationships that will get you prime consideration. Then it’s learning the culture of the publication (and every publication has one, no matter how small they are) and learning how to work within it successfully. After a lot of effort, you may finally get published in the Times. But then you’re published in the Times, not in the book realm.
What’s missing from this picture of all the effort you’ve put in? Oh yeah, honing your novel craft, which is why you’re doing any of this to begin with. So gathering clips is phenomenal, but it doesn’t help you accomplish your primary goal directly. And there’s no guarantee that it will help you accomplish your primary goal indirectly, either. You may sink a few years into pitching freelance articles to magazines, distract yourself, and maybe emerge with one well-regarded piece in Real Simple…that has nothing to do with your novel.
Is that payoff worth it? Only you can decide. This strategy only seems to work well when you’re a journalist in your day job, and a novelist by night. Then you possess both skillsets already, and you can jump back and forth more easily. Otherwise, it’s like going through all the work and trouble of growing a new arm, just so you can give your primary hands better manicures. It seems like a lot more effort than it’s worth.
ROAD TO TATER HILL by Edith Hemingway
Introduced first in 2007, debut children’s authors have formed a cooperative effort to market their books. Last year, I featured many of the Class of 2k8 on Revision Notes, as they told the stories of how 2k8 Novels Were Revised.
Today, I’m glad to begin the 2k9 Series of novel revision stories.
Class of 2k9
“When your editor says your character isn’t stepping up to the plate…” by Edith M. Hemingway, author of ROAD TO TATER HILL (Delacorte Press, September 8, 2009)
Structural Changes?
I consider the process of revision to be the true meat of writing. In fact, I revised my middle grade novel, ROAD TO TATER HILL, for three years before I decided it was finished and polished enough to submit to an editor. So, when I heard from Michelle Poploff, VP and Executive Editor of Delacorte Press, that she was interested in talking to me about my manuscript, I was confident that if she wanted it, there would of course be changes, but surely not major structural revisions.
She was interested and wanted to set up a telephone conversation a week later. I asked if there was something I should be thinking about in terms of revision before we talked. She said, “My assistant and I think your character, Drew, isn’t stepping up to the plate. We’d like you to consider removing him entirely from the story.”
I was thankful this was communicated through email and not face to face or over the telephone because there would have been a groan, a gasp, or a fleeting look of panic. My immediate reaction was, “How on earth could I take my brother out of my book?”
What I neglected to say earlier is that the seed for ROAD TO TATER HILL was my own childhood experience of the premature birth and death of my baby sister. Since I started writing it as a memory of an emotional childhood incident for a creative writing assignment, of course I included my older brother in the story. He was a significant part of the whole experience within our family. As the story evolved into fiction and took on more characters and an actual plot and story arc, the brother in the story tagged along, too. We had always been close, and I could not imagine life without him for either my character, Annie Winters, or me. However, the student in me that constantly strives to improve my writing urged me to be open to all suggestions—especially those from an experienced editor.
Yes, to Editor’s Suggestions
By the time our telephone conversation rolled around, I had come to terms with the change and realized the loss of a longed-for baby sister would be all the more poignant if Annie were an only child. I had even taken the necessary steps to mark every point in the story where Drew had appeared physically, through dialogue with other characters, or by reference in Annie’s thoughts and memory—especially those scenes where he played a significant role in driving plot points. Drew had appeared in 81 pages out of the then 154 total. I had also figured out the perfect character to beef up and take over the plot points that Drew could no longer control—Bobby Miller, the neighbor boy, who not only now became Annie’s best friend, but also added an interesting boy/girl dimension to the story.
Michelle and I talked for nearly two hours—going over those ideas in addition to many other lesser points and clarifications she needed. She ended the conversation by saying she would mail back my manuscript with all her written comments and suggested I think it over for a couple of weeks to decide if I wanted to move forward with these revisions. I did not tell her then that I had already decided—of course I would make those changes and even take them a step further!
Taking Time to Plan Revision
Once I received the manuscript, I spent several days reading through and taking meticulous notes. Then I put together a 4-page revision strategy list which included 9 detailed character improvements, 17 other considerations based on Michelle’s questions, a clarification of the time span of the entire story, and a plan for resequencing some of the major scenes.
Before scheduling our next telephone conversation, I emailed this detailed revision plan to Michelle, so she had time to look it over first. When we talked, her first words were, “You’ve really stepped up to the plate.” I had demonstrated that I was ready, willing, and able to make the revisions they wanted, and they were ready to offer me a contract, even before I completed the revisions.
Yes, there were more revisions required after I finished the first round and even before we reached the copy-editing stage. I even rewrote the entire novel in the first person point of view in order to dig deeper into the emotional core. It sounds as if I made every single change my editor suggested, but no, I didn’t. There were a few ideas that just didn’t ring true to my characters, even though I tried. In those cases, I came up with alternative plans that worked as well or better. I also learned that revisions often need to be done in layers, rather than all at once. One change perhaps leads to another change, which in turn reveals another problem that must be fixed, and so on. The hardest thing for me is to know when to finally stop revising.
I firmly believe, however, that my willingness to trust my editor, listen to her suggestions, and follow through with revisions was critical in landing my first “solo” contract!
Edith M. Hemingway
[email protected]
Road to Tater Hill
Delacorte Press, Sept. 8, 2009
http://www.classof2k9.com
Related posts:
- Cheryl Renee Herbsman: 2k9
- Rosanne Parry: 2k9
