Abby Zidle
It's almost the end of the year, and things are quieting down around the office. I've got one, maybe two more books to get into production before the holiday, and I finally have time to clear out my submissions pile. "Pile" is a bit of a misnomer these days--I get the bulk of my submissions electronically, so it's really my submissions e-folder. But it's bulging, nonetheless.
Although this is a time for winding down, it doesn't mean we aren't still buying books. If something brilliant pops up, I'll certainly still go hat in hand to my publisher looking for advance money--after all, isn't everybody shopping right now? In fact, I could really use some more books on my list for next year--I'm feeling a little light. But given recent events, it's more important than ever that every book be something on which I'm willing to stake my reputation (such as it is).
Although you'd think that my situation would be good news for aspiring authors--an editor who needs books is more likely to buy, right?--sometimes I find that the pressure to buy great books, BIG books, messes with both my confidence and my taste level. On the one hand, I start trying to convince myself that a just-OK book is an excellent book, especially if it's something high-concept. On the other, I don't want to risk money on anything that isn't screaming off the pages at me...it's my head on the chopping block if it doesn't work, and when all around me people are getting chopped, that truth is brought home daily.
This week I had a crisis of confidence about a book I'm publishing next fall; it's a big book, we're doing it as a hardcover, and I paid, for me, a very big advance. The book is being "crashed"--that is, we're publishing it on a much shorter lead time than a typical book. Therefore, I didn't have a complete manuscript when I got it, and only saw the whole thing a couple of weeks ago. But I had to prepare a selection from the ms. to share with our sales force, subrights department, and so on--all the people who need a lot of lead time to promote our books. By the time I'd worked over the sample chapters several times, I couldn't see the forest for the trees. I was reluctant to hit "send" and pass the selection on--what if it wasn't good enough? What if our sales force didn't see what I had seen in the project, because I didn't do one more editorial pass? Will this book make my career, or will I tank some poor author by paying a fortune for a book that doesn't work?
Fortunately, the brilliant and calming Janet Reid is the agent on this project, and she already knows I'm off-kilter on a regular basis. So I sent it to her and said, "I'm losing my mind and panicking that this isn't good enough. Please read and tell me it is...and that my hair is pretty." (Even editors need agents sometimes.) She graciously agreed on all counts (even the hair). And having heard from the voice of reason, I was able to step back and remember why I'd bought the book in the first place. Sometimes you need to clear the decks mentally, too.
