Some of it is luck, too, because there will always be more talented writers than there are slots available in any given year.
Or just flat-out more commercial. That's the one that always makes me grind my teeth and, yet? Business.
Does that mean my option material will be bought? Maybe. Maybe more than maybe, since I do, as you know, have a history at Kensington.
Amy, my darling, my sister! Pass that other paddle, will you? Same boatness and all.
Susan, like Amy, I have some history with my house, in this instance St. Martin's. I have an editor who loves the ground I walk on. She bought my first two books - both completely out of her usual realm - because she loves my writing voice. She bought the current one before I had an agent. She's a legend.
Moreover, the sales are good on the first two of this series.
And yet, andyetandyet, the proposal - complete with nearly ten thousand words of book four and solid complete blurbs for books five and six - have been sitting on her desk for five months. The official option clause - buy it or release it back into the wild - is 30 days. I went and ate lunch with her in New York, and not a word. This morning's email from Jenn was the first I'd heard that she had a definite offer in mind. FIVE MONTHS, of turning blue and getting progressively edgier. FIVE MONTHS of not even wanting to work on it, in case the series was orphaned.
It's a crapshoot. We all know it.
You simply never know.
Whoa - Sail, that's a strong, very echoey piece.
That was beautiful, Sail.
Doesn't mean I don't lie awake at night thinking about how I'm going to have copyedit and write cover copy for the rest of my natural life if I don't sell more projects.
You should hear Jennifer Crusie when she's halfway through a book. (I'm on her mailing list.)
Thank you, Deb and Betsy. I've been finding all the other drabbles very thought provoking. This topic keeps gaining momentum, like playing a game of crack the whip. It's building up a lot of energy, so much I'm almost afraid to see the results if we don't stop soon!
Sail, that hurt. I love the title.
You should hear Jennifer Crusie when she's halfway through a book.
Once, when I was a brand-new editor, I mistook her for one of my own authors, of whom I'd only seen a picture. It was at RWA NAtional, I saw J.C. from across the room, walked up and said, "Hi, Mary!" already reaching out to shake hands, only to look at her nametag and wish the floor would open up and swallow me. She was very gracious about it, though. I worship her. I really would read her grocery list.
Pass that other paddle, will you? Same boatness and all.
You bring the deathbombs and I'll bring some decent wine.
I worship her.
She's definitely one of my favorite authors. Nice to know she's a nice person, too!
Sail, that's a gorgeous, evocative piece.
Jennifer Crusie currently does a column for Romance Writers Report, and she rocks.
This is *key*. I had authors who were on manuscripts seven or eight before I bought something from them.
I always enjoy reading the First Sales column in RWR, especially when there's one that reads, "Mary Jones has been writing for 15 years.
Forbidden Ecstasy
is the eighteenth manuscript she completed before selling." We've got an author like that in our chapter--kept at it and kept at it, and now she's not only published, she's completely supporting herself as a full-time author. Of course, I'd
rather
be Julia Quinn and sell the first book I ever wrote, but I figure that ship has sailed.
Deb, Sail, love it. (Though Sail, I have to admit I heard Inigo Montoya in my head at the end... "Because I know something you don't know...")
I agree with the consensus that this topic is HUGE. I'm getting to the point in life where different directions are going to be taken, and home starts to become something completely different. Of course, I'm a Packrat Extraordinaire, so home is where all my junk lives. :)
(Want to drabble more... allergies are invading my brain...)
