A Novel Approach: How to
Succeed At NOT Being Published
By Amy Stone
The problem with success stories is that there are too many of them, and they
almost always seem to hinge on happenstance. Not that there isn't a positive
message to be gleaned from a right-place-at-the-right-time story, like: Success
is around every corner, you just have to get to the end of the street; or:
Always put your best foot forward, because you never know who you might run
into. But there's a big difference between gleaning and being able to
follow a concise set of instructions designed to help you achieve a desired
outcome. I've been the recipient of many a success story, and each has been as
varied as the individual behind it. Stories of failure, on the other hand, are
universal. They can also be replicated. Considering we learn more from our
failures than our successes, I offer the following as advice best not taken if
you aspire to being more than an aspiring novelist:
Forget About Genre
Four out of five experts agree: You should know your novel's genre before you
begin writing. That's fine, only you're an artist, and your creative voice can't
be limited to labels and categories-- it must exist on its own, singular and
sincere. Did Picasso say, "Hey, I think I'll do a Cubist painting this time,
'cause that's gonna be the next hot trend…"? No! He was an explorer, and he
helped put Cubism on the map. Maybe you're a trailblazer, too, and you'll
never know it as long as you stay curled up within the confines of
commercialism. So what if your work isn't readily applicable to an existing
genre-- write what is in you to write, and when it comes time to slap a genre on
the cover page of your manuscript, come up with one of your own. Agents will
surely appreciate your moxie and creativity and go to great lengths to convey
those assets to viable publishers.
Ignore Literary Trends
Chick-lit was hot. Now it's not. Imagine how you'd feel standing by the side of
the road, your trend-friendly novel in-hand, just in time to watch the bandwagon
drive by and leave you in the dust. Once you stopped kicking yourself for all
that time you spent interviewing lesbian vampires, you'd do the mental math: How
much time has to pass before an old trend becomes new again? Let's see, the '50s
were revived in the '80s, and the '70s made a comeback in the '00s… a Broadway
musical can be considered for revival after 24 years… so basically, you're
looking at some pretty hefty shelf time for that instant best-seller-- plenty of
time to predict the next literary trend that could truly be your ticket to ride.
Disregard Convention
Do you really want to get published by playing it safe? That's a sure-fire way
to get typecast as a novelist and wind up with a three-book contract and a
movie deal before your feet even touch ground. Next thing you know, you're a
romance novelist, and nobody cares that you've written the next Grapes of
Wrath. Better to lead off with that strange, compelling idea you've been
mulling since college, but couldn't wrap your mind around until you gained a
little more age and maturity. Such a magnum effort could quite possibly appeal
to a very wide audience within a small, select group. If not, at least it will
show all those East coast agents the full potential of your talent, so that when
you're ready to fit into the system, you'll do so with integrity and an open
door to the possibilities ahead.
Write Your Novel in a Bubble
Your novel is your brainchild, so why would you risk infecting it with outside
influences and potentially damaging information? Writers' conferences, literary
groups, message boards, writers' blogs, agents' websites… poisonous distractions
all. You may think that the more you know about the process and what agents and
publishers are seeking, the more likely you'll be to succeed. Wrong. The
more you learn while in the throes of writing, the more likely you'll be to
second-guess every right decision you've made. Next thing you know, you're
questioning the title of your book, rewriting the main character, and changing
the voice from third-person to first. Then, just when you're ready to explode
with indecisiveness, you land on a BBS for frustrated novelists and discover
you're not the only one going nuts all alone with a rapidly unraveling piece of
literary work. What a revelation. You begin writing again, and you do some of
your best work. Too bad they're only messages on a bulletin board and you posted
them under a pseudonym.
Don't Rely On Beta Readers
According to the experts, one beta reader is not enough. You should have five,
each representing a different perspective that could be instrumental in helping
you hone your masterpiece-- or strengthen your resolve in leaving it as is: One
should be a fan of the genre, another not so much. One should love everything
you write, another should be the devil's advocate. Ideally the fifth should be a
published, successful writer-- or teacher-- capable of imparting a critical and
objective viewpoint. In other words, you should have in your midst a literary
entourage ready and able to read your 500-page manuscript at a moment's notice.
However, if that's not doable, don't sweat it. That's what family is for. As
long as one trusted person thinks your novel is brilliant, you're good to go,
and anyone who doesn't agree obviously doesn't know the first thing about good
literature.
Less Might Be More, But More Is Easier to Edit
If you pare your manuscript down to its barest, most pure minimum, you're asking
for trouble. As a first-time novelist, you have to be prepared to be edited
should your novel make it into the hands of a publisher. Do yourself a favor:
Don't be too quick to trim all the fat-- that should be the editor's job. A
little excess-- particularly when you're not sure whether it should stay or go--
can act as decoy copy for an editor to eliminate with a feeling of pride and a
job well done, while the sanctity of your work remains intact. Besides, how many
years did it take to finish your first novel? In the time it would take to pore
over every word and paragraph again and again, you could be writing your
synopsis and querying agents.
It Doesn't Have to Be a Synopsis, Per Se
So, how many years did it take you to finish that novel? If you thought your
work was done, brace yourself: That's only a third of the package. Apparently,
you don't just send your six pounds of manuscript to every agent you think will
love it. You first have to entice them into wanting to read your weighty matter,
and you do this by sending a well-crafted query letter accompanied by a synopsis
that doesn't just sum up your novel, but essentially reads like a miniaturized
version of it. But why be redundant? If you compose a thoughtful query letter
that explains enough about you and your work to prove that: a) you've really
written it; b) you actually know what it's about; and c) it would be worth
reading because, after all, you handled the first two points so eloquently; then
why should you have to include the shrunken-head version of it? Whether you try
to tackle this monumental task before or after you've completed your novel, it's
still like buttering the pan after you've added the eggs. Instead, show your
true mastery of the craft by executing the most aesthetically concise and
compelling summary of your novel that you possibly can in as few sentences as
possible, and wait for the requests for more to come pouring in.
Assume Your First Novel Is Going to Be a Best-Seller
And why shouldn't it be? You're a talented writer and you've written something
wonderful. Besides, just look at all the crap that gets published-- surely your
first attempt is better than a lot of the stuff that's out there, so all the
more reason to be confident that your work will transcend the odds and find a
place up front in the bookstores. However: Given your impending success, you
better be ready with that next killer novel, because it's the second one that's
always the greatest challenge. How will you top the first? More realistically,
how will you live up to it? Your agent- and publisher-in-waiting will have high
expectations, so before you see your first-born novel in hardcover and the glow
of success blinds you to the future, it would be a good idea to have your next
great idea ready to go. Hey, the first was so the-greatest-thing-ever, why not
think sequel?
Conclusion
The thing about not succeeding is that it can be achieved in a number of ways.
Rarely does one have to make every mistake possible in order to not succeed--
just enough will do. But even then, it's not so much a matter of mistakes as
miscalculations. What the writer assesses as a forgivable offense might be
to the agent a deal-breaker, and the writer would have known this with a little
more time spent learning the do's and don'ts instead of giddily sending out 75
query letters in a single week and expecting to send out 75 complete manuscripts
by the end of the month. The good news is that few mistakes in the literary
world turn out to be fatal errors; more often, they manifest as setbacks that
merely cause the clock to tick more loudly. The question you should ask yourself
is: Do I want to make my own mistakes, or learn from somebody else's? I'd like
to think I've provided the opportunity to choose the latter.
Amy Stone is a Los Angeles-based writer and website designer. Right now she's
designing websites.
