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Your goal as a writer is to get published. Probably. If you’re one of those people who writes solely for love of the craft, then more power to you. You’re a better man than I. Most of you want to see your name on the shelf in a bookstore, though.

It’s difficult at best, nearly impossible at worst. Your inclination is to try to write for the market, to try to guess what agents or publishers want to see and give them that.

Don’t do it.

Publishing Lead Time Is At Least A Year

It’s the Internet age, you say. Things move at the speed of cat memes. If the hot thing right now is sparkly vampires, then you’re going to write the best damn sparkly vampire story you can, so you can dip your ladle into the river of money that is publishing.

Despite what you may have heard, or thought, or felt in your bones, publishing is still a very plodding industry. From the moment a publisher accepts your manuscript, you have at least a year until publication. Sometimes two years. That sparkly vampire story on the shelves now? It got the green light twelve to twenty-four months ago.

What’s Hot Now Is Cold To Agents And Publishers

By the time you – a publishing outsider – notice a trend, that trend is already old and stale as far as the publishing insiders see it. They don’t want your sparkly vampire story, they’ve already seen thousands of them in the past two years. Your attempt, no matter how well-done, isn’t going to rise to their notice.

That’s not to say that there isn’t a chance your story will break through. Just like there’s a chance you’ll win the lottery if you buy a ticket twice a week. But you’re probably not that lucky.

Writing For The Market Is Cynical

I know. A cynical writer. What a concept…

But seriously, if you try to write for the market you’re not going to do your best work. If you’re passionate about your project that will show up in your finished product. If you have a story you absolutely need to get out of you and onto paper, your readers will be able to tell. Your work will reflect your sincerity.

If you’re not all that into sparkly vampires, and if you think deep down they’re stupid and wrong (I mean, what kind of vampire is sparkly in the sunlight?), your vampire story is going to be terrible. Not to say that sparkly vampire stories aren’t terrible from jump street, but yours will never rise above the level of background noise. You’ll be spending a lot of effort for what is almost guaranteed to be zero return.

Don’t Be One Of A Crowd

Writers who try to write for the market think they’re the only ones doing so. This is the curse of a solitary passion. You never have office buildings full of writers who talk about writing during lunch breaks. We almost all work alone, and we think the ideas we have are unique. Fresh. Never been done.

If you try to write for the market, you’re just one more hack trying to cash in on a trend. That’s not to say there aren’t very successful hacks cashing in every moment of every day. If you want to be one of them, step up your game. Get good at it. Lead the pack of hacks. Be the alpha hack.

If you want to do good work, if you want to have your contribution be worthy and noticed and appreciated, leave the market-chasing to the desperate writers. The ones who have no confidence in their ability to tell a story. The ones who need someone else to tell them what a good story is. There’s plenty of those writers out there. Don’t join them. Hoe your own row.

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My novel has a new title!

As is fairly common, my publisher retains the rights to re-name my work. This is actually a good thing for me because:

  • They have a finger on the pulse of the market and can come up with a title that will grab eyeballs and sell.
  • I suck at titles.

At first the new title didn’t send me. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t love it either. Over the past week, however, I have come to like it. It’s got a noir feel to it, and while my novel is decidedly not Chandleresque, in the plot there are a lotta ins, lotta outs, lotta what-have-yous, so I think the title is appropriate. Maybe even a little foreshadowing.

My publisher came up with a new title, sub-title, and series title. Yes, this is a series, at least three books. I’m working on the outline for the second book right now.

Title: The Guilty Die Twice
Sub: A Legal Thriller
Series: Brothers in Law Series

Since dev edits are done, we’re closer to a publishing date. I’ll keep you posted on when that might be. A few more months at least, I think.

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In the beginning there was the contract. An agreement, a meeting of the minds, a legal document that outlines the responsibilities of both parties regarding that agreement. Offer, acceptance, consideration. But what the hell does all that actually mean?

When I got that emailed contract I was almost there. Just a hair’s breadth away from my ultimate goal of getting my writing published and available for people to purchase. Now I had to read this document, digest and understand it, and then determine if I agreed with it. Even though my novel is about a murder case, I am not myself an attorney. But I know people who are. I sent the document to my friend, also named Don, to get his professional opinion.

The reason you send legal documents to an attorney is because, as your advocate, your attorney reads that contract with an eye to any potential harm to you. In my situation, Attorney Don pointed out a certain section where I would be surrendering all rights, and two other sections that needed clarification on fairly technical legal specifics. Attorney Don made the corrections he felt were necessary to protect my rights, and I sent his suggestions (three total) to the publisher.

Within half an hour the publisher roundly rejected the corrections.

Among the things that fill my day, I am a mediator, I help other people resolve their disputes. I can recognize when someone is negotiating from a disadvantaged position, and in this matter I was that guy. I had never been published before, and this offer was a close as I’d ever gotten. They had what I wanted, and if I walked away chances were good another opportunity wasn’t going to come along. The worst case scenario for them, if I didn’t sign, was that they moved on to the next author; the worst case for me was going back to Corporate America with its enforced mediocrity and 10 Federal holidays a year. I absolutely had to sign. Right?

Not so fast. People make bad decisions when they’re rushed. That’s why those timeshare sales places are terrible, they want you to buy TODAY. I mulled my options over: sign a document that was almost but not quite what I thought it should be, or refuse to sign it because it wasn’t precisely to my liking. The details are unimportant to this story, the point is I had a choice to make, one I’d seen many, many people face during my time as a mediator. When is ‘good enough’ not really good enough? When do you walk away?

I did sign. I decided that the details of the contract meant the publisher was as invested in me as I was in them. Aside from a few quibbles about wording where I didn’t get my way, I believe they’re approaching it as a partnership, just as I am. In it together, which, honestly, is a fairly freaky proposition for me (see Publishing vs. Writing).

More on the details of the contract in part 2.

Signing a contract checklist:

  • Get an attorney to read it. Yes, this will cost you money.
  • Take your attorney’s suggestions seriously. They’re your advocate, they’re looking out for you.
  • Read the entire contract yourself. Understand every part of it. You will probably need your attorney’s help here.
  • If your attorney suggests changes, understand what those changes will mean for a revised contract.
  • Recognize your position, there’s always a strong side and a weaker side. Understand your side when you negotiate.
  • Negotiate in good faith. That means you don’t have a hidden agenda and you’re not trying to cheat, swindle, or screw over the other side. You’re going to have to trust the other side is approaching it as honestly as you are.
  • When you have a final proposed contract, read and understand it thoroughly. Do not let anyone rush you. If you’re pressured to sign before you’re ready, walk away.
  • After you sign a contract, make a list of everything you’re obligated to do. Post this list prominently, and add any dates to your calendar. Structure your work towards these obligations.
  • If questions arise, talk them through with the other party. Over-communicate. Bad things happen when people don’t talk to each other.

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Previous – Publishing vs. Writing

Next – The Contract, part 2

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When my publisher contacted me with the tentative offer of a contract, I got very excited. Which, if you know me, doesn’t really happen all that often. ‘Giddy’ isn’t an adjective people associate with my face. After the initial five minute high, though, I got to thinking. That’s what always messes me up, thinking.

I’d been working alone for years. My writing schedule was my own, my choice of project was my own, my creative decisions were my own. Once I signed that contract, though, I wasn’t alone. I would have obligations and timelines and other people depending on me and my creative drive.

That’s a huge change. Going from a one-man shop to part of a highly-specialized team. Could I do it? I’m not a hermit, in my day job I work with and around other people all the time. But this was my writing. My soul. Could I share it?

I really did have to consider this carefully, and it took me more than a day, including an almost completely sleep-free night. Getting published was my end-game. The ultimate conclusion to all the effort I’d been putting in. Of course I had to sign the contract. Right?

I did sign, and I know that things are going to change. I’ve entered into a partnership, there’s a quid pro quo. My hobby is now my business. I’m going to have to roll with the punches, and I anticipate I’m going to take a lot of punches. But the end result will be worth it.

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Next – The Contract, part 1