THE POLITE SCREED OF A PUBLISHING CLICHÉ

We hate to toss another dollop of despair out onto the world's woes - heaven knows, there's enough in the book business to be perpetually gloomy about - but Stephen Policoff's tale of his misadventures trying to get his first novel Beautiful Somewhere Else in front of anyone's eyes at all has got us feeling his pain, and since we hate to suffer alone, we share it with you.

THE POLITE SCREED OF A PUBLISHING CLICHÉ
by Stephen Policoff

When Salon.com referred to my novel as an undiscovered gem (“What to Read” 7/7/04), I did not find out about it from my editor or publicist. I found out about it from someone I didn’t actually know - Carrie Frye, the intrepid Tingle Alley blogger with whom I’d been exchanging emails. I never heard from anyone at Carroll & Graf about reviews—not that day, not any day.

But alas! this fit in well with the tragicomic farce which has been my novel’s lurch into this world.
I completed the 1st draft of Beautiful Somewhere Else in the summer of 1995, just before my wife and I flew to China to adopt our first daughter. For a variety of reasons - childcare, teaching, two books for kids - I did not take it out again until late 1998. I started fiddling with it again, and desultorily sent it out to agents.

Clyde Taylor, a semi-legendary figure at Curtis Brown Agency, called me in the fall of 1999. He said, “My assistant tells me not to take on quirky books like yours but I’m going to anyway.” Based on his advice, I revised the manuscript and, on a whim, sent it to the James Jones First Novel Fellowship.

In October 2000, I got a phone call. There was a child screeching in the background . “Oh…ummm…hi…you won,” a woman’s voice said.

“Oh…that’s great,” I managed, “What did I win?”

“Oh…um…the Jones Prize,” the woman, later identified as Kaylie Jones, told me over the sound of ear-piercing screams. “

My agent was thrilled. He was convinced the James Jones First Novel Prize would help sell the novel quickly. Shortly after that, he dropped dead.

The young agent to whom many of Clyde’s clients were assigned had no interest in representing my uncategorizable novel. “I can’t imagine what to do with this book,” he shrugged. Neither could several other agents I contacted. Neither could I.

Fortunately, the James Jones Society folks - who consistently have been the light of hope in this saga - leaped to my rescue. Mike Lennon, a well-known authority on James Jones, Norman Mailer et al., called his friend Jack Scovil, of Scovil Chichak & Galen, who read it, loved it, agreed to represent it. He was poised to make a big push with it around September 10, 2001….

Well, not all tragedies are about me; there were other things on everyone’s mind for quite a while after that (we live ten blocks from Ground Zero and spent months coping with the smell and black soot of dead souls and melted metal). But Jack did tell me that in the six months following 9/11, he received virtually no phone calls from editors, transacted virtually no business for the first time in 30 years.

Beautiful Somewhere Else made the rounds of publishers for about two years after that; it got a few total blow-offs, a few heartbreaking "I love this book but…" and many notes in the "This-is-the-worst-climate-for-offbeat-new-fiction-in-years" genre.

In Spring 2003, I was having lunch with Susan Choi, author of The Foreign Student and last year’s brilliant American Woman. When she was 17, Susan was my student in a writing seminar at Yale, and even then I knew she would be somebody. We had kept in touch sporadically—lunch, email, ranting about books. I was thoroughly depressed about my long-delayed 1st novel. Susan said, “Send the book to my friend Tina Pohlman. She loves weird stuff—she first published Colson Whitehead. Tell her I told you to.”

So, I did. I wrote Tina (then senior editor at Carroll & Graf) a poignant note, sent her the novel, didn’t hear from her. I assumed it was just another dead end, but in June 2003, she called me up. “I love your novel and I want to publish it,” she said.

And that should be the happy ending. Except that after we worked on the book and were satisfied with it, Tina suddenly departed Carroll & Graf--and not by choice. No one ever told me why, but a murky cloud of ill will hung over the whole situation.

Tina’s assistant, who took over her projects, swore to me that he would be in touch frequently—he never called me again. The first publicity person assigned to the book quit; the second one, who vowed she would be with me to the end, seemed unable to get anything done: Many people to whom I requested the book be sent never received it; she did get me one reading on Cape Cod (the novel takes place there) and seemed quite pleased with herself. But when I asked her to get me other readings - in northern California, for instance, where we were going on a visit - she claimed she couldn’t. My mother got me one instead.
And no one - no one - reviewed the book.

OK, PW gave it a truly mean-spirited (and factually inaccurate) review; Booklist was kinder. I spent all of May and June (and much of July) emailing book critics, desperately trying to get Beautiful Somewhere Else some attention. A number of reviewers told me that they had never seen the book. In early June, The Washington Post told me it was too late to review my book (which barely made it to bookstores by late May). They were already assigning autumn books. When I persistently emailed my alleged publicist trying to find out what if anything was being done, I stopped hearing from her. She had also left Carroll & Graf.

“These things often don’t go as one would like,” my agent—a gentleman of the old school—has said more than once. “Remember, not everyone gets to have his novel published; even good ones; even prize-winning ones.”

I try to remember that and knowing that a few people have actually admired Beautiful Somewhere Else almost assuages the intermittent rage I feel at being turned into that publishing cliché, disappointed first novelist. I’m working on a second novel—heaven only knows why. And I figure next time it’s bound to be better.

Or, as Blake observes, “The Fool who Persists in his Folly shall be made Wise.”

Comments

[Dan Wickett]

Mark,

Thanks for this posting. Poor Stephen has sunk so low he's contacted the EWN requesting a review/interview which I'll be doing sometime in late August/early September. The bits I've skimmed of the book are very well done and I look forward to really getting into it.

Enjoy,

[Jimmy Beck]

A truly cautionary and heartbreaking tale that has prompted me to reach for my credit card and buy the book.

[Kevin Holtsberry]

Not to trump one cliche with another but isn't this a way for blogs to help? Not just in telling this tragic story but in getting the word out. It seems to me that blogs and bloggers can be a sort of underground system for those whose books aren't getting the attention they deserve. Aren't quirky novels the ideal thing to promote on the internet? If traditional representation and marketing doesn't work I say look elsewhere. Bloggers are frequently looking for content and interesting books so authors can make themselves available and begin to build a buzz. If the quality is there this often jumps into web magazines and even into traditional media. If people really love a book they will do a lot promote it.

[basquette]

i couldn't agree more with kevin h. above. this is the brand new world, and as we lawyers know all too well but never like to admit, simply brute-forcing the old rules on it will not create the results we long for - the old days are gone, and they may never come back. think outside the box (if i can trot out the oldest and most tired jargon-cum-cliche ever) and create the buzz this novel apparently deserves (i say "apparently" only because i haven't yet read it myself, but quite apart from the "do the right thing" aspect of this tale, i really think i will enjoy it).

[Sarah]

Damn straight Kevin is right. That's why I have author guest bloggers and am also participating in Monday's VBT. That's why I am free with my raves (and a little less so with my dislikes, except with regards to a certain Booker winner) because even if one person who reads any of our blogs sees what we wrote about a particular book and goes out and buys it, then we've more than accomplished something--not necessarily a job, but something nonetheless.

[MG]

Hi Stephen: Please send me a copy of your book and I'll try to review it on my blog.

[Dan Green]

"I try to remember that and knowing that a few people have actually admired Beautiful Somewhere Else almost assuages the intermittent rage I feel at being turned into that publishing cliché, disappointed first novelist"

Almost? What's preventing him from being assuaged can only be the lack of attention and/or competence on the part of those in the "book business." And, as this essay makes clear, why would anybody care about them?

Also: What Kevin Holtsberry said.

[Laura Strachan]

Stephen,

Unfortunately, you've run into the plight of the mid-list author. I know that it doesn't help to say that you're not the only one. You might want to hop over to Gerard Jones' website, everyonewhosanyone.com, to commiserate.

I do believe that blogs can help shine a spotlight on deserving but neglected literary works. But authors lucky enough to make it to print need to recognize that their work isn't finished when they turn in their manuscripts. Publishers' resources, always limited, are directed at authors in whom they're most invested (read, the ones they've given the biggest advances to). Sadly, it is up to the individual author to keep the marketing engine running, to investigate and exploit every opportunity for news features or reviews and to bring any coverage or possiblilites for coverage to your publicist's attention. Work with your publicist, by all means but don't rely on him/her. In all fairness, some publishers -- and publicists -- are better than others, but you've learned a difficult lesson. You can't sit back and wait for it to happen. It generally won't. (I should say that I don't necessarily condone or advise Mr. Jones' guerilla marketing tactics, despite my representing him. A better place to start may be John Kremer's 1001 Ways to Market Your Books.)

Laura Strachan
Strachan Literary Agency

P.S. Tina Pohlman is fabulous, and I'm sure she's horrified at the fate of a book she loved enough to publish.

[Dutchboy]

"Almost? What's preventing him from being assuaged can only be the lack of attention and/or competence on the part of those in the 'book business.' And, as this essay makes clear, why would anybody care about them?"

One can hardly blame Stephen for being frustrated that hardly anyone even knows about the book, especially given the anectodal evidence that some people might actually like it.

[Dan Green]

"Sadly, it is up to the individual author to keep the marketing engine running, to investigate and exploit every opportunity for news features or reviews and to bring any coverage or possiblilites for coverage to your publicist's attention."

The hell with this. If it's up to the writer, why does the book business (including agents) exist? Exactly what do they do there?

To do what Ms. Strachan suggests is to stop being a writer and become just another widget peddler.

[Laura Strachan]

"To do what Ms. Strachan suggests is to stop being a writer and become just another widget peddler."

In a perfect world, writers would just write. Unfortunately, it isn't a perfect world. Presumably, writers write to be read. Some may write for themselves, but then what is the point of publication?

The big business attitude of the largest publishers demands that marketing money follow the advance money. Corporate conglomerates don't care about nurturing the small, literary gem; they care about showing a profit on the balance sheet. Smaller publishers simply don't have the money to do what it takes to grab the attention of a public bombarded with entertainment choices. They do what they can with what they have. Sadly, that's often not enough, and literary gems fall through the cracks.

No one has as much interest in the success of a book than its author, and so it's only reasonable to expect that the author will do what he can to get the book on the public's radar. I know that this comes as a shock to many writers, but the better educated a writer is in the business of publishing in all of its aspects, the more successful he's likely to be.

[Laura Strachan]

I realize that I didn't answer Mr. Green's first question. As an agent I weed through a lot of manuscripts. I find ones that I not only think are saleable, but that I also think have something to say in an artful way. I don't take on books simply because there may be a public appetite for them. This would probably explain why I don't make a lot of money.

Once I've accepted a manuscript for representation I work with the author to polish or refine it so that we're presenting the best possible product to an editor. And it is a product. I try to find the best possible home for each book I represent. I negotiate contract terms, play good cop/bad cop, and do whatever is required to intercede between author and editor. I pester when pestering is required, I mollify when mollification is required. I'm an intermediary, pure and simple.

I am not a publicist. That doesn't mean that I don't try to do everything in my power to get attention for my author's book. I do. It's just not my primary job.

[Dan Green]

I know what an agent does. My comment is about the "book business" as a whole, which includes agents on one end and publicists (or whomever) on the other. The point is: what earthly good is it for a writer to have his/her book printed by people who apparently don't care whether anyone reads it or not? One may as well self-publish if it's necessary anyway to go through all the rigamarole you describe. If "Corporate conglomerates don't care about nurturing the small, literary gem" and "Smaller publishers simply don't have the money to do what it takes to grab the attention of a public bombarded with entertainment choices" then the whole enterprise of book publishing as it exists today is just a pathetic charade.

[Laura Strachan]

I am not about to write an apology for the publishing industry. There is a lot that is wrong with the current state of the business. And yes, in some cases an author may be better off self-publishing. But most authors are not editors, book designers, or experts in purchasing raw materials (like paper). Nor do they have experience in finding and negotiating with printers, distributors or wholesalers. They don't have a recognizable name, big glossy catalogs or sales representatives. Established publishers do, and for all the shortcomings, they're still the way most authors get their voices heard, however imperfect the process.

[Kevin Wignall]

I'm in rather late on this one (but then I am in England!). Blogs can indeed have a big impact. The contacts made as a result of my guest tenure over at Sarah's place have played an important part in spreading the word about my books. And in the same way, I've discovered a large number of authors through the blogs. May it long continue.
I accept Laura's point about authors needing to market themselves. The real problem here though, is that there's a lack of disclosure. If agents, publicists and editors were more open about what they can do, and about what the author might do for himself, we'd able to work with that. As it is, no one likes to break bad or troubling news, so if a new book looks like it might be in trouble, the author is usually the last to find out. I found out that my first book in the UK was in trouble before it was even published, not from the publisher, but from a friend with inside knowledge. Authors are creative people, so it baffles me that they're rarely consulted on marketing plans and troubleshooting matters.
In the meantime, I sympathise with Stephen. I'm sure it's of little consolation to him that he is not alone and that he won't be the last.