surviving desire

While I don't do straight line editing anymore, not the way I used to anyway, it is inevitable that I still get asked "how do I submit my book?" or worse, "can you give my manuscript to an editor you know?" Heck, I had something I ordered online last year mailed to the office and the person who put together the package included their manuscript ... I'm not kidding. It's an awful predicament, everyone seems to have a book idea or one stashed away (and yes, I do, too, but it's staying stashed ...). Of course I hate turning someone down, or trying to explain the ridiculously complex submission process (you must get an agent, and yes, that is almost as difficult), or the incredible odds against success. All of the explanations comes off as sounding discouraging or as if you can't be bothered to help. So, I've taken more manuscripts than I've said no to (and please, no, that's not an invitation ...), or at least made a real effort to point the person in the right direction. Besides, who am I to say no? This person might just have what someone I know wants, it hasn't happened yet, but I never say never (in theory ...).

I get annoyed when I read articles (or blogs or boards) where writers complain and blame publishers for not buying their novels or nonfiction (though nonfiction is slightly easier to have published .... slightly). I've read, more times than I care to, posts describing how incredibly lazy editors are and would-be authors blaming them for their lack of success (advice for some of you: don't use your real name if you're still sending in submissions, just a tip). I also read a lot of complaining about all the horrible work that's out there, or that there are simply too many books being published so that the "good ones" wind up getting lost in the piles. There's a certain element of truth to those last two points, I'll concede that. There are a lot of books being published these days, almost twice as many as a decade ago. As far as the quality of what is out there, well, I've not read all 4,000 titles that came out in 2004 under the heading of fiction alone, so I'll have to get back to you on that. However, I will turn it around and say, I do know what a lot of the sales figures were on the award-winners, the truly exquisite, and the highly-reviewed versus some of the pap that went into third printing before even leaving the warehouse. No interest by readers is just as much to blame for books getting lost in the shuffle in many cases (single men take note, while the book you're reading may not be, flipping through it in public might make you more interesting). And I don't buy into the argument that not publishing some of the mass-market stuff will force readers to find other more "literary" or "worthwhile" titles (in quotes because in the end, both those headings are subjective). I'm more inclined to believe those people would simply stop reading all together.

Still, I certainly understand where that pain and frustration of a rejected writer comes from and why the publishing industry seems the way it does for those outside of it. Even the most poorly written manuscript has months or years of hard work put into it. So, when someone asks me to take possession of their manuscript and place it in the right hands, it's not something I take lightly--despite my natural tendency toward cynicism. I've watched many people I care about find themselves brokenhearted, or worse, after years of rejection and false hope, some who deserved to be published, and some, who probably didn't. Either way, it doesn't make it less difficult. Everyone thinks they have the next masterpiece, and it's hard to stomach the idea that not getting it to the right set of hands--or putting it in the wrong ones--can be all that stands in the way.

Hell, it's frustrating for editors, too. You really do read a lot of horrid stuff and then you are responsible for letting that person know. Years ago, while working at a different house than I do now, I had a friend confess to me (it was indeed a confession, because I hadn't asked him about it) that he had agreed to publish a major best-seller (it's still face out in most B&Ns almost six years later--and I chuckle when I see it) because it meant he could publish three other titles that season, which he really wanted to work on and was proud of having found. Books he figured would probably lose money, that no one would read, and would probably not even get picked up for the paperback edition. But publishing this one blockbuster would mean he could keep his job, get what he felt were important titles in print, and continue to make those compromises for a while longer. Do most editors do that? I honestly couldn't say for sure. I'd guess those that have the industry credentials do (or don't have to anymore), but younger ones, those who still have to prove themselves don't have that kind of option. They have to prove themselves capable of "spotting talent" early and often so they can keep their miserably paying jobs. And, yes, they are miserably paid. The transit worker's strike this past December rubbed it in quite nicely, thanks. So, to say editors don't care is ridiculous, the only reason they're there is because they care about books. There isn't an editor, or designer, or even a production person, who doesn't love books in some way; or who doesn't love reading. They may not like the type of books you do and they may not like yours, but, that's not the same as not caring.

It's just a creative, subjective ... business. And that can't ever be overlooked. It's a business. And it's often difficult for people to accept, because it's a business that controls something that is very dear, and often very emotional for all involved.