I'm hard at work on another copyedit of Harry, Revised. About a week ago I received a package containing the typeset manuscript. Now, one thing I've learned is that just when I've experienced what seems like the most memorable moment in this process, another one comes along and knocks it out of the park. So, although I won't claim that this has been the best moment to date, seeing this sure as hell ranks up there:
A few weeks ago, I reviewed some style samples where we looked at how the type would be set and where the various type elements would fall. The only decision we made at that time was to do away with drop caps. I do like them, but I have a handful of chapters that begin with one line paragraphs, and those came out looking terribly skewed. We talked about rewriting a little bit to make them work, but I decided I didn't want to rewrite simply to accommodate type elements. And on closer study, I decided there was something understated that I preferred if we eliminated them. Here's the typeset version of the page I recently displayed in my copyediting post:
I admit that I deflated a bit at the prospect of reading my book yet again – you read your work dozens and dozens of times, after all – but there's something I find about seeing it in this close-to-finished form that makes it genuine fun to tackle – it's not quite a finished book, to be sure, but it looks close to the real thing enough now that it's no longer just a Word file sitting on my computer, and I find I read with renewed distance and enthusiasm.
So now my trusty red pen is out and I'm going through it line by line. I'm also pleased that, which each pass, the edits become smaller and smaller, generally reduced to cleaning up infelicitous turns of phrase or streamlining things. (No Trimalchio-scale revisions here, I'm relieved to report.) For example, I have a horrible crutch word – a word upon which one overrelies – which is "clearly". (I probably have more than one, but this one really leaps out.) And I've come to realize it's such a meaningless qualifier – after all, if something is clearly anything, there's no need to state the "clearly," is there? That's the kind of clean up I'm working on.
Another interesting thing I've learned – galleys are made from the first pass typeset copy, apparently. So these changes I'm working on will not be on the galleys, which I'm told are a few weeks away now. That kills the perfectionist in me, and I sort of wish that wasn't the case but it is what it is.
Another exciting development is that Bloomsbury issued the new catalog containing the listing for Harry, Revised. The catalog goes to booksellers, reviewers, bloggers, et alia and is an important sales tool. It's also something I got to weigh in on, and you can see it here – and you'll also have your first chance to see the book's early blurbs, which are also now up at my personal website.
Part of the catalog process included cover design review – and getting your cover proposals is another one of those incredible, landmark days when things start to feel incredibly real. One hears tales about cover hassles but on that front, I've been wonderfully happy with the work that Bloomsbury's art team came up with – honestly, the hardest thing was picking a favorite from a bunch of great ideas.
Oh, I've noticed that the release date on Amazon has now been moved up to April 15. I'm not sure that being released on tax day is a fantastic association, but on the other hand, I can see the campaign now – spend your refund on Harry.
And so I return to the dotting of the i's and the crossing of the t's. I have one more bit of rather exciting news on tap but that one will have to wait for a few days. Please stay tuned.
Thanks for the updates, they're fascinating.
Also, your cover jacket photo is badass.
Posted by: Nav | November 29, 2007 at 12:41 PM
I'll second what Nav said. I find these updates ridiculously fascinating (ridiculously is my crutch word online, and I'm too tired to remove it just now).
Posted by: ChrisClark | November 29, 2007 at 12:47 PM
I have to say, the most exciting thing so far has to be that shout line from John Banville! Fantastic!
Posted by: Craig Gamble | November 29, 2007 at 02:32 PM
Trust me, it all seems great, but NOTHING compared to holding the finished book in your hands. I'm getting shivers remembering it for me.
Posted by: Corey Redekop | November 29, 2007 at 02:35 PM
That's a bit weird and unsettling... the three blurbs are from Banville, Ferris and Leavitt, all of whom have received lavish and long praise on this blog. I don't doubt the sincerity of your admiration for their books. But now are they duty-bound to return the favor? Since you're showing us what's behind the publishing curtain you might tell--
Posted by: HPP | November 29, 2007 at 03:39 PM
It's a fair enough question, HPP - one I anticipated. The fact is that for early blurbs - blurbs that come on galleys, as opposed to blurbs garnered from galleys, you're asking favors from people you know, because reading manuscripts is generally considered a real nuisance. And I can't deny that one of the great, unanticpated benefits of the blog is having gotten to know people like these writers - although I certainly praised them before I knew them.
As for their blurbs and what motivates them, there you simply have to ask yourself - will writers of these reputations say something simply to be nice or out of obligation? After all, anything they recommend reflects on them. If you think someone, to take one example, of Banville's stature would recommend something he didn't actually like, well, there's not much I or anyone can say there. It's a question of whether a reader trusts an author. Though it's worth noting that I did approach a few other writers I've praised and corresponded with, and I haven't heard back from them. So I don't think a defacto connection should ever be assumed. Also, I think your logic is a bit tautological - if you don't doubt their opinions are sincere, why shouldn't they voice them?
Still, I remember years ago reading something I think in Bookforum where someone was writing about the art of the blurb, and this writer admitted he'd blurbed books for friends that he hadn't even read. His logic: "There are worse reasons to blurb a book than as an act of friendship." I found that hard to argue. I wonder, sometimes, if we take this all a bit too seriously.
I'll add - and I meant to blog about the whole blurb thing - that it's a horrible thing to have to ask for, and the only consolation is knowing that all writers have gone through it at one time or another. And one of my respondents was keen to remind me that I will get similar requests one day, and that I should return the karmic favors. So I imagine any blurb you ever see any where has a bit of "paying it forward" involved.
Bottom line: I had to approach writers I know, and the writers I know are the ones I've met through this site. You'll have to judge their motives according to your own impulses and beliefs.
Posted by: TEV | November 29, 2007 at 03:52 PM
The cover looks great, love that "Penguin Classics" motif ...
Posted by: Levi | November 29, 2007 at 04:34 PM
The blurb thing is interesting as Mark, and Laila before him, has this blog as possibly the biggest means of his coming into contact with other authors.
What Mark doesn't have is the MFA from say USC, where he could ask TC Boyle and Percival Everett and Aimee Bender, or from Syracuse where he could ask George Saunders and ...
As a publisher, it is one of the early things we ask an author - what authors do you know well enough to feel comfortable asking for blurbs from? We also ask our authors what their dream blurbing authors would be - and if either Steve or I know said authors well enough, we'll ask.
But, for the most part, it's going to come down to asking somebody you know, be it from your classes, your professors, your writing group, or, nowadays, from your blogging.
Posted by: Dan Wickett | November 29, 2007 at 04:43 PM
Here's a question: At what point did the novel that became 'Harry' separate itself from the countless other novels that became nothing? I think of Roth, writing 100 pages over 6 months in order to find the first line of his book, and then throwing the rest away, so I'm curious to hear how you sort of persevered through the uh, doubts, of writing your novel.
Posted by: jh | November 30, 2007 at 10:03 AM
Interesting question, JH. Unlike Roth, the first line I wrote is basically (with minor modification) the first line of the novel today. I think because of my screenwriting background I had a pretty clear idea as to how the story would unfold. The "finding" part came in deepening the key relationships - and that took a few drafts to really nail down.
Given that I wrote the book almost entirely in sequence, it was either around Chapter 4 or 5 where I suddenly realized that I had the potential to go the distance with this. In the early chapters there was still a bit of "we'll see if this comes to anything," but after that I needed to see where it all was going, and I committed to finishing.
My friend Jim Ruland talks about getting to the stage in your work where you walk around with the book in your head. That you're so immersed in it, you're living and thinking it constantly that it's always there, always germinating. I think when one reaches that stage, that's when the book becomes more than a glint in the eye.
Posted by: TEV | November 30, 2007 at 10:17 AM
I'm sure you have a copy somewhere, but "Conversations with Philip Roth" is really a must read for all writers. Think what you may about him, the man can flat out write:
Q: Are you ever not working?
A: No, mostly I work. Probably about 340 days out of the year.
(9-5, standing at his pedestal). Just amazing. Congrats on the book, and the great blurbs.
Posted by: jh | November 30, 2007 at 02:20 PM
Mark, it looks so elegant. I'm very excited for you. It is an odd process (editing galleys of your book), but it's quite an experience. Can't wait to get my hands on it!
Posted by: daniel olivas | December 03, 2007 at 07:13 AM