Hey, There's A Dead Guy in the Living Room

Hail and Farewell

Jeff Cohen

So that was it. We hope you liked it.

This is the 3464th post on HEY THERE'S A DEAD GUY IN THE LIVING ROOM, and unless someone else parachutes in and decides to add some thoughts, it is the last. We've had quite a good run here but it's time to shut off the lights and lock the doors before we stop saying anything anyone wants to hear.

For me DEAD GUY has been any number of things. It started when Deni Dietz and I defected from Murderati a long, long time ago and thought we'd start our own blog, but we didn't want to examine crime fiction strictly from an author's point of view. So we recruited editors, publishers, readers, librarians, reviewers, agents and booksellers, among others, to provide perspective we as writers couldn't offer. 

I'll continue to post blogs every now and again (look next Tuesday for sure) and hope you'll look for those moments, but as for DEAD GUY, this is the end of the line, and that's because we have all agreed it's better to go out while we're still wanted and not overstay our welcome.

But it wasn't all about publishing. The rule among us at DEAD GUY was that there were no rules. If you wanted to post about your section of the crime fiction world, great. If not, go for it. I have personally posted about digitizing my vinyl record collection, interviewed my daughter, had my dog write a guest post, talked about my health issues (ad nauseam), ranted about having to master barre chords, introduced a pseudonym, shamelessly promoted my work, bragged about blurbs, discussed the importance of making attractive letters when filling in a crossword puzzle, mentioned comedians I especially admire and occasionally made dives into such popular subjects as religion and politics. I recall once explaining how to deal with the atheist on your Christmas card list.

This blog has been more than a simple repository for my random thoughts. I've made good friends here. I've managed to blow off steam or express emotional truths when I had to. It served as a steam valve when I needed it. And a couple of times it served to let me write silly song lyrics. 

The most gratifying part of the weekly post was to connect with those who decided to visit us here. Hearing from readers and other writers, among many others, was a great comfort and sometimes an ego stroke when it was most needed. Writers write because we want to communicate something. Knowing that people were taking notice was a very large help at times.

For me the schedule forced me to write whether I had a great idea in mind or not. Some of my favorite posts were those that came when I was backed against a deadline wall. 

Everyone who has ever posted here will tell you that coming up with a post every week could be a trial. It's not easy to keep going and not repeat oneself. There have been nights that I've sat here looking at a blank screen for an hour wondering what would appear on the blog page at 12:00 a.m. that Monday. The closest I've ever come to believing in "Writer's Block" has been related to these posts. But I still don't believe.

The people with whom I've been part of DEAD GUY are amazing, smart, funny, warm and dedicated. I am grateful and honored to have been associated with each and all of them. I won't mention all the names here because I'm certain to forget some and that would bother me deeply even if it wouldn't rankle those I failed to cite. But assume if you've read a post here and it wasn't one of mine that it was written by someone I admire greatly, someone who inspires awe in me. I thank each of them. 

For those who have chosen to check in here every day or every week or once a year, we can't possibly thank you enough. It has been wonderful being part of your lives. Don't mourn the DEAD GUY. We stopped because we didn't want to disappoint you. You deserve our best. We hope we've given it to you. Thanks for everything.

 

 

Oh. And pitchers and catchers report in 44 days.

A Fond Farewell From DEAD GUY Alum Josh Getzler!

Josh Getzler

As I have four or five times in the past, I am writing this post from Florida, where I spend my winter break each year. In previous years, I’ve used my final post before New Year’s to look back at the year, and to project where I might be next year this time.

This post, however, is a bit different, and somewhat bittersweet, because this is the last time I’ll be writing for Hey, There’s A Dead Guy in the Living Room. I think the decision to end the blog was correct—it’s hard to find something new to discuss every week, particularly when trying to keep it at least vaguely within the box of crime fiction or publishing, and I know all of us have deviated at different times over the years.

But for today, I’d like to discuss not the past year, but rather the past eleven. And while Jeff tells me that 2,500 words is awfully long for a typical blog post, given that it’s the second-to-last entry of the whole thing, I hope you will indulge me. So sit down, y’all, as my 14 year old daughter says; it’s Story Time With Josh.

I re-entered publishing in January of 2007, and at that time I thought the industry had been revolutionized by technology since my first foray into the business of books a decade earlier. In 2007 submissions and edits had all become digital, and conversations among agents, editors and authors had become rapid-fire exchanges of emails. As an (aging) assistant, I was no longer spending days Xeroxing manuscripts and putting them into boxes, but organizing inboxes and learning to use electronic databases to monitor editor moves.

Then, as I thought I was getting the hang of the new paradigms, another innovation/disruption happened: Amazon decided to turn its gaze to publishing, and created the Kindle. The decisions Amazon made in entering this world have certainly had the most affect on the publishing industry in this past decade—far beyond any other single aspect of the business. From the pricing models, through its competition with Barnes and Noble and WalMart, through its Agency Model contracts and legal battles with publishers to its decision to enter the scrum as a non self-publishing publisher (and its systems of paying royalties), Amazon beats out Publisher Consolidation and the near-demise of browsing in brick-and-mortar bookstores as the Biggest Thing of the 2010’s.

From a personal standpoint, I started in 2007 as an assistant to two (outstanding) agents, having just leapt from a business where I’d been the boss, with three children 8 and under, where I woke up every morning at 5:00 to read queries, and where I spent four months line-editing a 700 page thriller (that never saw the light of day).

As 2017 ends, I’m a partner of the six-year-old agency I co-founded in 2011 with Carrie Hannigan and Jesseca Salky. We have all seen our books hit the NY Times (and many other) best seller lists, including Carrie’s client Vashti Harrison’s amazing middle grade book about black women who made history, Little Leaders, which was #3 last week. We are up to seven people in our agency, and have reached financial stability. I represent more than 60 authors, and hit my 100^th deal announced on Publishers Marketplace this past year. My oldest child (who’s contributed to Hey Dead Guy several times) just completed his first semester of college, while my toddler girls from 2007 are now both in high school. If I tried to wake up at 5 AM to read a manuscript, I’d be asleep by 8 that night, which isn’t practical.

When I started back at Writers House in 2007, my expectation was that I’d be The Mystery Guy. I’d edited mysteries in the 90s at Harcourt, read more of them than any other kind of book, and figured I’d find my lane in that world. And while I’ve done that (expanding into pretty much all aspects of crime fiction, from cat mysteries to horror to historical thriller to contemporary spy novels to near future dystopic police procedurals), I realized pretty quickly that I needed to expand my sights to…Anything That Will Sell. But nine years after starting to take on clients, I’ve been able to consolidate into a few different genres that make up most of my submissions. As a way to discuss the past decade in publishing, I’ll include commentary while discussing each part of my list.

• Crime fiction, as above. This takes up probably half of my energy—or more, at different points when I’m flush with projects. I’ve sold more crime fiction than anything else, and it remains dear to me. I’m also seeing the most extremes of highs and lows with it at the moment. The low points began a couple of years ago, when Berkley and St. Martin’s Press—two of the most significant mystery publishers in the business—contracted their lists by ¾ and ½, respectively. Now on one hand, that was probably necessary: The shelves at B&N were filled with donut shop mysteries and knitting mysteries and knitting mysteries set in donut shops (with cats, of course), and the market was so glutted that it was difficult for many new authors to find their audience and break through. Additionally, while we thought that ebooks were going to replace mass market paperbacks--where mysteries typically found their audience--on a one-to-one basis, that didn’t happen AND the lower price of ebooks didn’t make up for the lost revenue (and many publishers began to release their mysteries in hardcover and trade paperback, which caused its own pricing issues and lowered sales figures—but that’s a whole different discussion for another time.) So there needed to be a bit of a correction. We are just beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel now, though not without quite a bit of pain. Many well-published authors found themselves without homes after many books. Many well-seasoned editors found themselves out of work after many years at a home. This caused a great deal of backup in the ability of the fine publishers still (or newly) publishing crime fiction (like Midnight Ink or Crooked Lane or Severn House or Henery House) to take chances on new writers, as they were populating their lists with veterans.

The upside was that these publishers DID work very hard to take up the slack. Additionally, for the first time, we were able to see digital first or digital only imprints of the big publishers begin to get traction. Whether Witness (HarperCollins) or Alibi (Random House) or Thomas & Mercer (Amazon) or several others, we have started to see real sales come from these imprints. (Of course many of these imprints compete very strongly on price deals, which sacrifice revenue per sale for quantity of downloads adding up to a decent stream. 1,000 books downloaded at $1.99 with a 25% of Net Revenue rate don’t match up to 1,000 books sold at $7.99 with a royalty rate of 8% of list price. ($250 vs $640, after a number of assumptions.))

Also, we are beginning to see the re-emergence of the mass market paperback, which will come as a boon to mystery readers who don’t like to use e-readers. The market, I suspect, won’t have the same share as it used to, but there are clearly many readers and large number of terrific writers, and even an industry as difficult to shift as publishing will respond to those needs.

Finally, we are seeing an increase (as all content providers are) in unusual deals in mystery stories, particularly where production is concerned. The number of new outlets for video has allowed mystery and crime fiction stories to be optioned, produced, and even reverse-engineered in record numbers. Hallmark Mysteries and Movies has become the Berkley Prime Crime of television, and Acorn TV (or ITV3) its source for British cozies and procedurals.

OK, so that’s a bit of a digest on crime fiction. For me, that’s a significant amount of my energy. The others are:

• Middle Grade children’s books. When I started back in 2007, I had a kid just entering the middle grades, and two bosses who represented terrific middle grade novels. But it took a chance conversation with a film producer who knew a guy with a book described as Harry Potter with Pirates (which turned out to be more like The Princess Bride with 13 year olds) to start me on the road to a strong list of books for tweens. I’ve grown to love these books, with their spunky heroes and heroines who are not yet jaded (much) but still can Get It Done. I like the humor and the Feels, and the fact that there is a greater breadth of story permitted there than in almost any genre. Funny thing to me was that I thought that once I got the hang of middle grade books, I could also rep Young Adult, but I found out that I simply didn’t have the same eye. So I now rarely look at books for older teens, but am definitely actively continuing to work on the middle grade.

The frustration on this side is that it is INCREDIBLY difficult to market these books. The intended market does not buy its own books, but needs to have parent approval and participation. And the lack of brick-and-mortar bookstores is preventing the kind of browsing with kids that led to finding the book NEXT to the book one is looking for (whether as an adult or a kid). And the old way for authors to get to their audience directly—by visiting schools and libraries—has been discovered by everyone, and it’s now more difficult to get those gigs and be considered special.

• Historical Fiction. I realized a couple of years ago that I was at a place in my career where I could start to concentrate on the kinds of books I really love. And being married to a history teacher for 21 years has made me more and more interested in learning about times and places I don’t already know about. And so many historical novels either cross over into crime fiction or deal with either politics or Royal Courts or Ecclesiastical issues that so I’ve spent a considerable amount of time finding and working on books set in times and places as disparate as 12^th Century Ireland, 16^th Century England AND France, 19^th Century Italy, pre WWI Russia and pre WWII Vienna, as well as Israel, Mongolia, Japan, Pre-Revolutionary New York and…you get the idea.

The issues here are that historical fiction is either crowded with titles (Henry VIII) or “too strange for the market” (even if it’s in the same location 100 years later). There is also a tendency for publishers to get gun shy when they have taken a big risk on an historical novel that doesn’t pan out, when there is popular wisdom that only a certain number of these titles will hit in a given year, and if one flops then every other book seen by that publisher will be compared to that one. Additionally, I’ve found in the past year that the pacing of so many of the historical novels I rep make for somewhat long books—it’s necessary not only to set the place but the time and where it is in history, and often a different voice. And as a result, editors will need to spend a longer time reading than they might with shorter books in other genres (or proposals in nonfiction). As a result, there is often a longer than comfortable time between submission and response to these books, which can play havoc on the rhythm of a sale. I’ve had more long-wait submissions in historical fiction than in any other genre, and it’s become a source of terrible frustration to my authors. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it in the end, but it requires more patience and fortitude than in most kinds of books.

• Nonfiction: I got into nonfiction for two reasons: One old friend of mine came to me with her Work-Life Balance proposal, and because my authors tend to be both smart and in possession of day jobs they can write clearly and compelling about. These are the most straightforward books to work on, and their submissions tend to be of more reasonable length. If you had told me ten years ago that I would have a vigorous list of prescriptive books for (mostly) women about professional satisfaction, parenting, and small-I-inspiration, I would have been surprised. But not as surprised as if you’d told me that I would be pitching a proposal about the mission to Pluto—by the brilliant scientist who ran the mission—on the DAY his spacecraft flew by the Heart of Pluto and a photo of his mission would be above the fold on the front page of the New York Times.

So that is my list, with some relevant commentary on the market.

The past ten years have been fascinating. When I entered Writers House, after being in Baseball—with the Yankees (for God’s Sake), many people asked whether I was going to find publishing as exciting or interesting. And the truth is, while there were many great moments in baseball, the everyday life of my career in publishing has been more consistently happy and satisfying, even when I may be frustrated with a submission or displeased with an offer or wanting to tell off someone who may deserve it. The variety of books I’ve read, the fascinating people I’ve been able to interact with, the talent of the writers and editors and publicists and other agents. Man, it’s just so impressive.

And one of the places I was able to find a voice and meet people in has been Hey, There’s a Dead Guy in the Living Room. Even if there were times I had to throw together a quickie couple of paragraphs on Tuesday at 11:30 after a long day at work and a night out, I had a great time talking mysteries and writing and business (and occasionally Bruce Springsteen). I get queries that talk about my columns, and I use both my own archives and some from my fellow Dead Guys in my class on publishing at NYU. So to Lynn, and Jessy, and Terri, and the many others, and most of all to my friend (and client) Jeff Cohen (hey, I get to acknowledge YOU for a change!), thanks so much for letting me be part of this terrific experiment in multiple-contributor blogging. I can’t wait to see what the next ten years bring—maybe we’ll have to have a reunion run, like an 80s metal band, and see where we’ve all landed. We can call it Mostly Dead. Which, as we all know, is still, if you work on it, alive.

Don't Be Sad... It's Just a Blog

First: Our most fervent hopes that everyone in the path of the recent terrible storms is okay and that life will return to normal soon.

But now a bittersweet announcement: Every day here at DEAD GUY we try to bring you something that can add to your day. Most often that something has to do with crime fiction publishing, as our lineup of bloggers has been constructed to know about that category. And over the past 10 we have done our best to provide every possible viewpoint on the subject.

But, as they say, whoever they are, all good things (and the rotten ones too, truth be known) must come to an end. 

As much as we've all loved being DEAD GUY bloggers, we've agreed it's time to close the proverbial doors around here. Coming up with useful, entertaining content every day has gotten to be a little too much after all this time and we want to go out while we're still at the top of our game. 

So the December 31 post will be the last one here at DEAD GUY. While it's a little sad to think this is coming to a close, we prefer to focus on the idea that we've done good work here, people have enjoyed it, and we've kept it going since January 2007, which ain't bad. 

The cast of characters has changed over the years, but never the mission: To provide perspective on writing, publishing, reading, editing, promoting and enjoying books, mostly in the crime fiction area. We're all still committed to that concept and we'll keep expressing our opinions when we feel they're relevant. Just not here at DEAD GUY after 2017 becomes 2018. 

In the ensuing months, please know we'll keep posting as we have before, so don't tune us out of your daily web scan just yet. And along the way, we'll be hearing from some DEAD GUY alums who have graciously agreed to come back for one more visit before the lights are put out and we group-hug our way to the end of the Mary Tyler Moore Show. 

Keep reading. That's what this has always been about.

Signs That You Aren't Funny

Jeff Cohen

I have often, in this space and elsewhere, urged those who are not funny to avoid trying to write comedy. This is not stated from a superior point of view, in that I am actually quite incapable of writing an entire story that is serious. I understand the impulse to do the other, but I'm here to warn the humor-impaired off the impulse. It won't be good for you and it won't be good for anyone else.

But the question that might arise from that statement is clear: How can I be sure I'm not funny? It's a reasonable query and one that should be addressed seriously. Alas, if you read that previous paragraph, you know I'm not the man for the job if those are the criteria.

So let's consider it: You think you might not be funny, and that's a problem because you'd like to write a funny story. How can you be certain? Maybe you're hilarious and you don't know it. Or, conversely, it's possible you are the least funny person on the planet but you believe yourself to be the reincarnation of Groucho Marx. Either way, you need a little guidance, and I'm here to help.

Signs You Aren't Funny

• You say something in the spirit of humor and nothing happens. Crickets chirp. People look uncomfortable. If anyone's still wearing a wristwatch, s/he looks at it. This is a clear signal. Think of writing a tragedy. You're suited to it.
• Someone asks you how you're doing and your impulse is to respond, "As well as Donald Trump." Now you haven't just not said something funny, you have waded into a political statement and worse, nobody knows what you mean. The only thing you've demonstrated is an ability to annoy people on both sides of the aisle. Think about becoming a speech writer. For Donald Trump.
• You say something you think is hilarious and people take you seriously. "Lou Gehrig died of Lou Gehrig's disease," you say. "What are the odds?" Your friend explains patiently that the condition is called ALS and it just took on the name of the famous Yankee AFTER he passed away from it and... Never mind. You're not funny.
• You, a rabbi, a priest and a minister walk into a bar and nobody thinks that's at all amusing. 
• Your favorite comedian of all time is Señor Wences.
• Your idea of a riotous comedy film is something directed by Ingmar Bergman.
• You wish W.C. Fields had just gone to an AA meeting. Just one. That poor man.
• You try to charm a woman you just met with your wit and find out from a friend later that she was listening to a hockey game in one ear.
• You think Seth Rogen should option Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis as a starring vehicle for himself. Wait. That's not a bad idea. Scratch that. Forget I said anything. Get me Seth Rogen's phone number.
• Someone asks who your favorite Marx Brother is and you answer, seriously, "Karl."
• Worse, "Gummo."
• Your idea of a gag present is a Target gift card.
• You walk into a party ready to slay them all with your ready wit and before you can speak everybody asks, "What's wrong?"

I hope this has proven to be the public service for which it was intended. Meanwhile, keep in mind that THE QUESTION OF THE FELONIOUS FRIEND isn't just out there buying itself. Same is true of WRITTEN OFF. And I'm just getting ready for SPOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL. Stay tuned.

So Good They're Bad

Guest Post by Joe Newman-Getzler

Recently, I watched a video by movie reviewer The Nostalgia Critic (ne Doug Walker). It was an editorial called “Can a Film Be So Good It’s Bad?” This caught my eye immediately. Naturally, there’s the old adage that a product that isn’t technically well-made but is still enjoyable is “so bad, it’s good.” This can apply to silly songs like Psy’s “Gangnam Style” or infamously poor movies like Troll 2. They aren’t necessarily good, per se, but there’s still an undeniable charm that those who take them at face value might miss. So, how do you reverse that? If a film provides no reasons for complaint, how can you reasonably say you dislike it?

The Critic explains, using films like Cinema Paradisio, The Truman Show, and E.T. as personal examples, that sometimes there are films that he can’t argue are bad, but which are so pristine that it almost provides a disconnect between the film and its audience. It’s not to fault the films’ creators for a good product, but sometimes the combination of a uniformly great film and boatloads of praise is enough to keep him from forming an emotional connection with the movie, which is an important distinction. (For the curious, here’s the video: https://youtu.be/KJhGSRJhWcU).

I was intrigued. I realized that this has actually happened to me more than a few times; that feeling of “I know it was great, I think it’s great…but why am I not inclined to see/hear/read it again?” The most recent time this happened to me was when I was discussing the book All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr with my grandmother. I had read it as a summer reading book and she had read it before I did. Now, just to be clear: All the Light We Cannot See is a terrific book. The characters are interesting and the cliffhangers each chapter ends on make the book’s 530 or so pages go by all the quicker. It won the Pulitzer. So it’s got that going for it.

And yet, when I finished it, I realized I had nothing to say about except, “It’s great.” Suddenly, all that intensity I felt while reading the book was drained from me the moment I put it down. My grandmother said the same thing (besides feeling that some of the character arcs were unfinished), and we had both felt the same way after reading another much-praised book, John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. While I was reading it, the travails of Hazel and Augustus were absolutely world-consuming, but when I finished? “It was great. Nothing about it that was bad.”

Therein lies the problem: that lack of an emotional connection Nostalgia Critic pointed out. I’ve read a lot of books that are roughly on par with the two I’ve mentioned, quality-wise, which I could say wholeheartedly I’d read over and over again. Part of why I connect to the things I connect to is because they’re great for very specific reasons. Why is Purple Rain one of my favorite albums? Because of the music’s infectious energy, the fact that it’s an aural carnival where you’re invited and Prince’s slinky charm bursts through on every perfect track. That’s specific, right? So, why is All the Light We Cannot See a good book? Well, the two leads are both very sympathetic for very similar reasons, and the atmosphere is very evocative. It’s easier to be specific about great things I personally enjoy. Works that are “so good, it’s bad” tend to be good for very general reasons, and pinpointing what makes them enjoyable just leads to adjectives that you can apply to any number of other works.

You might say that if a work is “so good, it’s bad,” that makes it overrated, right? You see what everyone else likes, but it doesn’t speak to you personally. Well, that disconnect is definitely a part of it, but I don’t necessarily think that’s the case. If something’s overrated, that means its significance has been grossly overstated (such as, say, “Hotel California,” to me). With “so good, it’s bad,” you like it while it’s going on and can recollect enjoying it afterwards, but there’s just something that keeps you from going back for more. There’s nothing overblown about its reputation, but somehow that reputation also keeps you from being sucked in.

How does one avoid this? Well, I don’t think you really can. There was a time where I thought things were in black and white. It’s either got to be bad or good, and everyone has to agree that it’s bad or good. When I was a huge Disney buff (a huger buff than I am now, at least), I thought that there was nobody out there who didn’t like Beauty and the Beast. It’s impossible! And yet, the internet proved me wrong quite quickly. Sometimes you wonder if you’re watching the same thing as everyone else, but in the end, everyone has different tastes, and it’s the most minute distinction that separates a fan from a dissenter. So, you’ll never please everybody, and that’s okay.

If anything, being “so good, it’s bad” should almost be an honor. In a way, it’s almost saying that something is too great. The greatness is so overpowering that even people who don’t want to watch or read it again still say it’s fantastic. It’s so good, you’ll be overcome by its goodness.

And isn’t that just the mother of all backhanded compliments?

Joe Newman-Getzler is a rising Senior at York Prep School in New York City. He watches a LOT of YouTube, and occasionally learns something from it.

You're Stealing. Stop It.

Jeff Cohen

There are a multitude of disturbing trends in today's society. One of them is running for president, but that's not the point here. The bottom line is, it's virtually impossible, no matter what one's point of view might be, to watch the news, read the news or download the damn news without being upset (often horrified) about what you see.

And the political or global issues are not the only sources of outrage and anxiety, not by a long shot. There are some wonderful things about the current version of the modern age, and I'd list them here but right at the moment I'm having a hard time remembering what they are. Trust me, I know they exist. I'll think of them tomorrow.

What concerns me at the moment that won't upset people whose ideologies are not in line with my own? The decline of simple rules of grammar, punctuation, usage and syntax, to begin with. I teach people at the college level who can't tell the difference between you're and your. I see posts and documents indicating that even those who have completed advanced degrees don't bother to use apostrophes properly. You'd be amazed how many people think the sentence, "Lots of woman do the same thing" is perfectly acceptable.

And then there is the odd sense of entitlement among those--and I do not limit this to millennials and young people, as I have seen done--who believe that entertainment is a right. These are individuals with working brains who don't see the problem in downloading music off "free" sites, who will buy bootleg copies of movies before they are released to DVD, who steal a cable TV signal and believe they are somehow completing a victory over "the system."

Well, I'm "the system." Nice to meet you.

There are any number of online sites that right now, today, will let you read books that I spent months writing and to which I own the copyrights and they will not charge you for those books because they themselves did not pay for them. The site might charge visitors a fee as a "subscription," but trust me, when they send you the file with my name (or my other name) on it and you read the book, I am receiving a grand total of nothing for it.

The idea that somehow this is a victimless crime, that no one is losing out when you "beat the system" by getting free entertainment, is crap. I hear the argument all the time that there's no harm in a bootleg download of a movie because "Tom Cruise already has enough money." Maybe so, but guess what--the key grip doesn't. The Foley artist needs a salary, and if revenues go down, she won't get any. The guy who cleans the recording studio isn't getting paid when the artist can no longer afford to book the place because nobody is paying for the art.

I have close friends and relatives who see no harm in finding "free" entertainment. They seem to feel they're being clever, winning a victory over a corrupt system. I see them stealing. Period. 

Right now, I am contracted to write four separate mystery series which some of you read and hopefully enjoy. If sales don't hit the right numbers--and no, I have no clue what those numbers might be because the publishing industry changes its standards about every 20 minutes--I will no longer be releasing any books at all. Because I need to make a living and pay the bills. This is true of every author, every singer, every filmmaker, every producer, every actor, every screenwriter and all the people who serve the industries they inhabit. 

If you're taking copyrighted content from a source that doesn't compensate the creators of that content, you're stealing. Pure and simple. You're not being a Robin Hood outlaw. You're robbing from everybody and keeping everything. At most the only concerns you're keeping alive are the ones that steal from artists. 

I object.

Summer Reading

Josh Getzler

 

 

So this morning we said goodbye to our girls, off for seven weeks at camp in the Berkshires. Sunday, we will drop The Boy at Skidmore for a pre-college program. As usual, I will list everyone's summer reading--a pretty good, well-considered list, from which they chose strong books. They are:

 

Ita (rising 8th grader): The Chosen, Chaim Potok

JJ (rising freshman): Soul of an Octopus, Sy Montgomery

Joe (rising senior): Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates

Layla (failed Dogwarts): Working on Go Dog Go, PD Eastman

 

 

 

London Summary

Josh Getzler

 

So another London Book Fair is in the rear view mirror, and I’m sorry to be done with it. This was the most energetic and active of the three Fairs I’ve attended, and the optimism of the professionals there gave everyone a spring in his or her step and a bit more patience for the crowds and the espresso lines.

From the HSG side, we had a busy and productive couple of days. To show you the pace, I’ll just give you a sense of our schedule:

Monday evening: Leave JFK at 8:30 PM

Tuesday morning: Arrive Heathrow at 8:30 AM (In between, read 450 pages of manuscripts, drink a nice red wine, and sleep…45 minutes or so). Speed through Passport Control, crawl through West London in a cab, get to the hotel, shower and change, and arrive at the Olympia in time for a 1 PM meeting. One note: This year, we made two extremely important decisions, which ended up making a huge difference in the experience of the Fair: We rented a table in the Rights Center, so we had a place to sit and meet people, rather than having to run around the room to everyone else’s tables; and Danielle Burby came along. Danielle has taken over our Foreign rights sales, and by tag-teaming the meetings (and occasionally taking simultaneous meetings), we were able both to meet more foreign agents and not do all the talking. So we were fresher at the end of each day, and were able to bounce conversations between us.  

One thing to know about Book Fairs as different from Conferences or gatherings like Bouchercon or Thrillerfest: While those are all about authors meeting each other and agents and editors, this is really a Trade Show. Everyone we met with was either a co-agent from a foreign territory, an editor, or a client. A few (lost) authors approached us to try to pitch us their books, but this (or Frankfurt or Bologna or BEA) is not the place for it. Danielle spent two months coordinating the week, and every minute was pretty much scheduled out.

So anyway, we had our first meeting at 1 on Tuesday, after getting the first of…many coffees. We then had eight meetings. Then went to a reception from a film company. Had a beer, met three old friends in the film world, and had Curry #1 at Woodlands, the best veggie Indian restaurant in London. Then to the hotel, crash, and…

Up on Wednesday. Meeting #1 is breakfast at the hotel with Emad Akhtar, editor extraordinaire at Michael Joseph, who has been working with our client Chris Mooney on going-on three thrillers now. Emad is a fascinating, smart guy—both committed to traditional publishing AND wanting to see it push forward into the modern age. We walked over to the Olympia—a nice 15 minutes, bracing ourselves for the crowds and the chaos.

And for me, the rest of the day was taken up with 14 more meetings, ranging from our brilliant German co-Agent Tilo to an exploratory discussion with a software developer based in Spain with a program designed to make our agency more efficient. Then drinks at a local pub in Notting Hill and another reception. And the day is really taken up with a combination of pitching to co-agents the books we’ve retained the translation rights to, and convincing publishers to do more marketing for the books they’ve already bought. These days, so much of the discussion is about discoverability that it dominates discussion.

Finally we were talked out. And that happens, almost every day, and requires a real unwinding. For me, I often walk the streets of London, just looking around, trying not to think about the day but rather to just relax. I realized I was hungry, found Curry Joint #2, and had a delicious second supper. It’s not that I don’t eat terrific Indian food in New York. It’s just that I really always want to eat it in London. Also fish and chips, although there’s an Irish pub on the Upper West Side that solves that the rest of the year.

The hotel I was staying in had a lovely small bar, and I ended my evening with a solitary nightcap—that Wednesday was one of the most satisfying days of my career—it felt sometime mid-morning that Danielle and I had really hit a stride, and the agents and editors were listening to us, and we just knew we were making our points with clarity and emphasis. We’ll see how that bears out in the next few months, but it was a cool feeling.

Thursday was a sprint—early wakeup and pack, another breakfast, another nice walk to the Olympia, this time dragging my suitcase. Then only four meetings—Danielle had four more after I left—and it was off to the airport (and Duty Free chocolate and booze). We leave with so many new contacts, so much more business, so much follow-up.

Here’s the tally:

30 meetings in 19 hours

15 territories, from Brazil to Russia to Korea to Spain (which has gotten off the canvas to start publishing books again)

Nine coffees, black

12 bottles of water, carbonated

4 sandwiches to complement the rest of our meals

Two receptions

Two Curries

Four different beers

Three different whiskeys

Four NYU Publishing Students who found me on the Floor of the Rights Center and even called me Professor Getzler!

Three changes on the Tube from Piccadilly Circus to Kensington High Street

One great Fair

 

 

How I Got to the Bestseller List

Jeff Cohen

I am pleased--no, tickled--to report that during the week of April 10, I will be in the #1 position on the New York Times bestseller list.

You don't believe me (as you would be wise not to)? Just click here.

See? Right there at the top of the middle grade (hardcover) list: The book is called Jacky Ha-Ha. And it's my ticket not only to cracking the list, but to hitting it immediately at the top spot.

What's that you say? The authors of the book are listed as Chris Grabenstein and some guy named Patterson? Yes, that's correct. I didn't say I had written a book at the top of the bestseller list, just that it had gotten me there. 

I'm a character in the book.

Yes, it takes place in middle school and the character is not specifically a 58-year-old curmudgeon, but when you turn to p. 111, you'll see my name right up there in the cast list for You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown, the show the kids in this particular school are about to begin rehearsing. And just in case you're thinking, well, there are plenty of guys called Jeff Cohen this little brat could have been named for, let me give you the description (p. 131):

"Jeff is a bundle of energy, curly hair," (Editor's note: See photograph, right) "and quirky eye tics." Not sure where Grabenstein got the eye tics from, but come on. That's me (at that age--I'm hardly a bundle of energy now). I know mostly because Chris alerted me to this the day after the book was released.

The fact is, Chris is a good friend and needed a wiseguy character for his latest collaboration with Mr. Patterson. Since beginning with the wonderful John Ceepak/Danny Boyle, Chris has found great success in middle grades books like his own Mr. Lemoncello's Library series and in collaboration with the ultra-bestselling author he knew from both their days in advertising. Chris even had a very nice New York Times feature in the Real Estate section (!) a couple of Sundays ago. 

Authors are not without their egos and their jealousies. Yes, we love to see our peers do well, but we're also wondering why that wasn't us. That's okay; it's a human response. Grabenstein and I started in this whole odd book business around the same time. I remember meeting him at the Black Orchid during one of the wonderful block parties they used to throw (alas, the place is no longer there and the parties have not continued) and picking up his book because somebody told me Chris "writes funny," which in my world is a challenge. Nobody's allowed to be funnier than me.

Well he's not, but it's close.

I will gladly stop a busy afternoon if there's a new Ceepak book, which alas Chris tells me is not coming anytime soon. They're funny but with heart, the narrator is a developing character who evolves from book to book, and Chris always makes you want to turn pages. His ability to plot and to have secondary mysteries that are tied to character and get to the core of the story leaves me in awe.

I have no jealousy for Chris Grabenstein. I begrudge him nothing. I am thrilled for the great success he's found. That's the absolute truth.

And now he's gotten me to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. That's a friend.

Besides, Jacky Ha-Ha is charming and smart. Written as a remembrance by a narrator who is now an Oscar-nominated actress and alumna of SNL, it tells a story of growth and worry. It's 1990 and Jacky's mom, a Marine, is deployed to Iraq waiting for the order to move in, so she has a good deal of anxiety. At home she's having a hard time behaving because she like to make jokes as a defense mechanism and needs an audience, which too often consists of her peers in the classroom. But one teacher sees something in her, and maybe that's going to make a difference.

Jeff Cohen is one of her pals and quite frankly, I think we need to see more of him. Perhaps a sequel will delve more completely into his complex psychology and heroic talents, most of which consist of being quick with a joke (clearly a fictional conceit). I believe he's a character who cries out for a book of his own. 

One of these days I'll write a character named Chris Grabenstein and see if it helps my sales. I'm not entirely altruistic.

 

P.S. Opening Day has been postponed until tomorrow (when I'll be teaching in Philadelphia and won't be able to watch). So you can call me today, but expect me to be grumpy.

 

middle grade mystery novels

Jessy Randall

Librarian Heather Riley of the Urbana Free Library in Illinois has put together an excellent gateway to middle grade mystery novels, with sections for classics, historical, realistic, action/adventure, and fantasy/paranormal. I'm pleased to see The Mysterious Benedict Society included -- I loved that book as much as my kids did.

Thank you, Heather! But I think you accidentally left out Daniel Pinkwater's Snarkout books, in which a bunch of kids (all boys and one girl, typical Pinkwater but we love him anyway) work with the Sherlockian "Osgood Sigerson" to solve bizarre mysteries involving avocados and other things. (By the way, the name Sigerson is  Holmes's pseudonym in "The Adventure of the Empty House," a 1903 short story by Arthur Conan Doyle; it is also the name of Holmes's "smarter brother" in the 1975 Gene Wilder film.)

 

 

We're Really Not Kidding. Help!

Josh Getzler

I'm away from my desk today, so I asked Jeff to put up again his post looking for support for our fellow Dead Guy, Erin Mitchell. It's plenty important enough that you can wait a week to hear about why you shouldn't write in the passive voice or curse in middle grade books, or whatever else I was coming up with today. Back next week. Go Mets (Yes, I said that--maybe my next post will be defending my right to say that after having worked with the Yankees for 9 years--or maybe it's obvious from that!)

We here at DEAD GUY are taking today to urge you to donate to what we believe is the worthiest cause on the planet.

Our very own Erin Mitchell.

As she has documented quite eloquently, Erin's been having some pretty serious health issues, and as anyone in the United States knows about such things, it has not been inexpensive. She is self-insured, so the bills are mounting pretty staggeringly. We believe Erin should not have to shoulder the burden alone while she's dealing with so much at the same time.

So there is a grassroots (that is to say, crowdsourcing) movement to try and help, which was set up by Ellen Clair Lamb. Many have contributed (including some on this blog), and if you are able to do so, we'd urge you to send what you can.

Anyone who has read Erin's posts here or encountered her elsewhere know she is an amazing woman, one whose wit and general good humor coexist with strong views and a sense of right and justice. She is being dealt a hand she doesn't deserve, and the overwhelming cost of health care in America should not be something she has to contend with when she's fighting a much more important fight. 

If you can spare a few bucks, we'd appreciate it if you would take a look. If you can't, why not comment below and let Erin know how much you like reading her here on DEAD GUY or elsewhere. In fact, why not do both?

She's already overwhelmed with a situation. Let's overwhelm her with how much people care.

We do. You get well soon, Erin. We want you back here on Fridays.

Banned Book Week - Librarians as Warriors

This year, the American Library Association celebrates Banned Books on September 27, 2015. Even in this age of information, where movies are pirated, tweets captured for infinity the second they appear and are deleted, and criminals record and post their activities to the world, we still need to fight for the freedom to speak.  And be read.  And to ensure that others have the freedom and access to information.

In the next few weeks I hope to re-visit those "dirty" or challenged books that I thoroughly enjoyed in my youth.  I hope that you will also take a moment to appreciate being able read books that someone believed you shouldn't.  

Books are power.  

Looking back, I bet that books that were considered scandalous or dangerous are the ones that you remember reading the most.  And not always for the reasons one would expect.  For me, what turned out to be the most accurate depictions of reality were often the most shocking, disturbing, and memorable.

Libraries...We're Not Dead Yet

After watching yet another local news report on how the homeless are overrunning the libraries (air conditioning, free Internet, and apparently a surplus of YouTube videos available for viewing), I was left once again with the impression that the general public believes that libraries have outlived their purpose.  For many people, they seem to think that in this age of google, Wikipedia, and e-books, public libraries are baby-sitters for bored children waiting for their rides or safe shelters for transients.

 They would be wrong.

 As summer ends, so does the national Summer Reading Programs for adults, teens, and children.  The cooperative ALA theme for this year was Superheroes, comic and real-life, and you only need to check twitter, Instagram, or Facebook to see just how amazingly librarians and libraries embraced it.   #SRP2015.

 Firemen and policemen made visits to libraries, costumed superheroes read storytimes, artists taught children how to create their own comic books, and children created their own costumes.  The creativity displayed by library volunteers and staff was astonishing.  Yes, I would be tooting my own library’s horn by including them in this, except that I had very little to do with our programs.  I just stood back and watched in amazement. 

 To see children and their parents so excited to come into the library each week to be rewarded just for reading never gets old, even when the staff is exhausted and we are overwhelmed by crowds.  Adults enjoy the reading programs as much as children, as for once they have an excuse to do something they might believe they just don’t have time to fit into their schedules.  Reading for fun.  Reading to their children.

 Reading becomes a priority.  You can make time for reading.

 So, when I fear that people are too busy to come into the library, that we are warehousing the homeless, that everyone already has access to everything online at home…I remember the summer.

 Summer Reading Programs are exhausting, but they remind everyone that there is always time to read. The reward is just more tangible, immediate, and fun.  Now we just have to find a way to make summer vacations last throughout the year.

My morning with Connor, Joey, Shane and iJustine

Josh Getzler

I’ve been meaning to write this post for several weeks, but it kept getting shelved. But now that my girls are going to camp tomorrow, and I won’t be able to fact-check with them for two months, my hand is forced.

So as I was doing my annual tour through the Booksellers Expo (BEA) extravaganza in May at the Javits Center, I was struck by one of the huge banners hanging from the ceiling above one of the entrances. It was from the new KeyWords Press imprint of Simon and Schuster and featured the faces of four young, good-looking people: Shane Dawson, Connor Franta, Joey Graceffa, and Justine Ezarik. These four authors were going to appear on the Sunday following BEA at BookCon, which is part of the ComiCon-like piece of BEA that is open to the public.

I immediately took a photo of the banner and sent it to my daughters.

You see, the four authors are among my daughters’ favorite YouTubers, video bloggers who have created huge followings by bypassing traditional avenues of discoverability and appealing directly to…whomever by looking at a camera, smiling sheepishly, and talking. Then posting the monologue on YouTube and seeing who will respond.

To my daughters, these people are friends and idols and role models (but with excellent hair). To me they seemed charming and slightly inarticulate.

Thirty seconds after sending the photo to them with “Want to go on Sunday?” attached, I got the following text from the 12 YO:

YAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh Shwag Daddy!

And the following email from the 11 YO:

 

So clearly we had to go see them on Sunday.

When I bought the BookCon tickets, I received an email that contained, among other things, a link to a set of instructions as to how to deal with attending the panel with Joey, Connor, Shane, and (as she’s known) iJustine. There were paragraphs about getting there an hour in advance, which room to go to to get your wristband, then which line to wait in; also where to buy books, which would be the only way you would be able to take a photo with the authors.

Hmm. It was very John Green/Stephanie Meyer in feel, and I couldn’t imagine it being THAT bad. I mean, Joey has almost 5 million subscribers, and Connor 4 and a half million. But would anyone go OUT to see them.

Well, yes.

When Jessie, Ita, Ita's friend Avigail and I got to Javits, and made our way downstairs to the holding pen, we were 45 minutes early and around 400^th in line. And it was fascinating. EVERYONE coming to see them was a teenage girl (except for the occasional boyfriend and sporadic grey-haired chaperones). They were all drinking hot pink Frappuccinos  and looking…happy. On their cell phones. Posting photos of the line on Instagram that looked kind of like this:

 

We waited a long time. And every time someone Official came by to announce that everyone needed to stay patient, there were screams. Like, rock concert screams. The vibrations built.

And I need to say something: If it seems like I’m rolling my eyes at this, it’s because the bare description of the event was utterly the cliché of a parent taking a group of tweens to an event he’s not wanted at. But here’s the cool thing: It was at a BOOK convention, and it was SWEET. Everyone was totally well-behaved. There were nerds and cool kids side by side, and there was no drama beyond the vibrations.

Then they opened the door, and the thousand 11-17 year old girls went BATSHIT. I’d been to this room before for some events at BEA so I ran the girls to the far end and we found reasonable seats. A DJ was playing pretty loud music (for 10 in the morning) that everyone knew, and the place filled up within moments. The moderator came out, the lights went down, the YouTubers shuffled into the room…

And the place exploded like it was the Beatles (or maybe 1Direction). Girls were SOBBING, screaming, shouting incoherently, for a really long time. At that point I was bemused, because there was no way the next 45 minutes could live up to the anticipation.

And then I learned about the YouTube zeitgeist and why it’s cool.

You see, while so much of the internet is negative and dangerous and filled with predators and trolls, these folks (and a number of other vloggers) are People Positive. They are kind and understanding (and snarky but in a nice way) and empathetic. They were bullied and weird and nerdy and closeted, and when they turn on their cameras and just talk about their day, with their success and newfound life satisfaction, their audience gets a sense that they can succeed as well. Joey and Connor and Justine and Shane appreciate their success and LOVE their community. They give time and imprimatur to worthy  causes. And while they’ve certainly figured out a way to make a living talking on the internet, their message of tolerance and collective support is simply undeniably positive.

At the end of the formal interview, the moderator allowed a few questions from the fans. I had been, again, skeptical of the kinds of questions we would get. But the girls said I’d be surprised. And again they were right and I was…old. The kids asking questions were well-informed and articulate, and were asking questions more philosophical and less “ConnorIWannaMarryYou.” And the YouTubers took them seriously (even if they were funny and pretty vague in their answers), and everyone left empowered.

When we left the room, we knew that the rest of the day would be anticlimactic. We wandered the booths, which were beginning to be disassembled anyway at the end of a long convention. But all the girls could talk about was how amazing it was to see these people in person. We didn’t get to have our photos taken with them—the line for books was as long as the line was to get into the auditorium, and life had to go on. But I left feeling like I learned something good about society, at the very time when so much of our lives is taken up with analyzing tragedy. There is a community out there, of tweens who read and feel and want to be happy and can’t always figure out how to make that happen. And they are led by a pretty impressive group of near-peers, who reach out through their cameras and help a bit to show them how to Make It Through.

science fiction mysteries

Jessy Randall

There are plenty of lists of science fiction mysteries out there: io9, Tor.com, and Best Science Fiction Books have all done good work on the topic. But as far as I can tell, nobody has included my favorite science fiction mystery, Nancy Farmer's The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm, first published in 1994. I suppose it's a young adult novel -- all of Farmer's books are identified as YA -- but it could and should cross over to adult readers.

It takes place at the end of the 22nd century in Zimbabwe. The titular characters are three men with mutations that afford them special abilities. They've formed a cut-rate, off-beat detective agency, and they get hired to find three children, siblings who sort of ran away from home and sort of got kidnapped.

Not too long ago, Farmer published The Lord of Opium, a sequel to The House of the Scorpion, another science fiction tale about scrappy kids. I'm crossing my fingers she might be at work on another Ear, Eye, and Arm novel -- or really, anything at all. I'll follow her wherever she goes.

BEA Week--just kind of sneaks up on you!

Josh Getzler

Last week, as we were cramming everything possible into Thursday and early Friday before Memorial Day weekend, I suddenly realized that the short week was going to be even shorter. Or, in some ways, endlessly long. It is BEA week, which I love on one hand (as I've said in this space many times I LOVE trade shows. Have since my baseball days, when we used our tote bags to pick up t-shirt designs and bobblehead dolls instead of ARCs and publisher catalogs...); and also know that it's going to be unexpectedly inefficient.

That's because unlike the London Book Fair or Bouchercon, BEA is on US Publishing's Home Turf, so there's no packing, and we just sort of say "OK, who has what meetings on what days?" We never take into account that the schedule gets packed, and that it takes 45 minutes to get to or from the Javits Center from anywhere. Including, say, Los Angeles.

Which is not to say I'm looking forward to the BEA's upcoming move to Chicago etc--I LIKE being able to take the kids to school and then schlep over to 11th Avenue. And I know my friends reading this in their hotel rooms are not at all sympathetic to these (really halfhearted) complaints. But that's the fun of BEA week--NY publishing professionals get together to complain. Largely about everything related to the Javits Center, from the lines for coffee (long) to the distance you need to walk everywhere (long) to the wait on the wifi for your email to load (long). Sarah Weinman tweeted it well last night:

Sarah Weinman     ‏@sarahw                   12h12 hours ago               

Tomorrow is the first day of officially complaining about BEA

 

Have a fun conference everyone, if you are able to go. And go to see Geoff Rodkey and Toni LoTempio sign books on Friday (not together, but simultaneously), and pick up lots of cool tchotchkes. And celebrate books.

Be a Super Summer Reader!

Never let it be said that the libraries aren't willing to jump on the bandwagon and follow a trend!  This year, the American Library Association's Collaborative Summer Reading Programs themes are all about the superheroes.  So whether you are a baby gumming on a Superman board book, a teen hiding that One Piece manga novel behind your summer school math textbook, or an adult perusing The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay on your Kindle, you need to head to your nearest public library and sign up for a Summer Reading Program!  You will be rewarded for doing something you love and would do anyway!

Just because the themes are embracing all things Super-y (and sorry Jeff if you are totally over the whole  superhero thing, but I have seen the new Avengers movie twice), you don't need to read a comic book to participate.  The Adult Summer Reading Program theme is "Escape the Ordinary," meaning that pretty much anything you read qualifies.

Every library has a different program and start date, so check your local public library to see if it participates; and if it doesn't, ask why not!?!  Here at my library we begin May 26 and go through until July 17, and by then the staff will be more than ready for it to end.  For the public though, and adults especially, how often do you get prizes and free stuff just for reading!  Reading itself is a reward, so nifty pens and latte coupons are just a bonus.  Read at least one book a week and win!

Harry Potter in China

Jessy Randall

My library recently acquired a copy of Harry Potter and Leopard Walk Up to Dragon, an unauthorized Harry Potter knockoff in Chinese with illustrations stolen from Disney and other sources. It may be of interest to Harry Potter fans, students of Chinese, and anyone interested in copyright and intellectual property; it may also be of interest to Tolkien fans, since in this novel Harry teams up with a wizard named Gandalf and goes after a magic ring and a dragon. Don't believe me? See this jaw-dropping excerpt.

I can't say for sure how J.K. Rowling feels about these bootlegs (and these, and others), but I'm guessing it might be like this:

#BOOKCULTURE

Josh Getzler

 

Thanks to everyone for your good wishes while I was out with the shoulder surgery. Still barking a bit after two weeks, and I've got an I-Can't-Shave beard going and am still sleeping upright on the couch. But getting there. Thanks to Danielle Burby and Todd Moss for posting the past two weeks.

 

One of the more exciting things that happened in the past month is that Book Culture, an independent bookstore that lost its lease uptown, announced that it was reopening in one of the retail spaces below my apartment building. And instead of putting up the usual brown butcher's paper to cover the windows during renovation, they put up a happy sign telling the story of the return of a bookstore to the former site of an older store, Endicott Books, which was one of the inspirations for You've Got Mail.

 

This weekend, my wife and I were taking a walk and saw that there were a bunch of brightly colored stickies on the window of the store. Turns out that an anonymous Upper West Sider decided to create an Old School Pinterest board and put out a bunch of sticky pads and Sharpies and asked the neighbors to write notes about the new store, take photos, and post on Twitter with #BOOKCULTURE. And they did. And the neighborhood is truly giddy. More next week, but here are a couple of very happy pictures.

 

 

Derek Jeter and Why He Matters

Jeff Cohen

Let us consider for a moment Derek Jeter.

Assuming you are not living on Jupiter, the news might have passed by your eyes and ears that Mr. Jeter, who is an employee of the New York Yankees, will retire, in every likelihood, late next Sunday, the 28th of September after a 20-year career with the firm. 

Non-sports fans: I promise there will be some relevance beyond baseball statistics, but you'll have to bear with me.

My daughter and I went to see him ply his trade Friday night at his office, 161st St. and River Avenue in the Bronx, New York. While not the same office in which he began his illustrious career, it bears the same name: Yankee Stadium. And don't think for a moment we were there for any reason other than to pay our respects one last time.

He was as gracious a host as ever, helping to produce a win for the home team with two hits and some nice fielding plays. And he tried his best not to notice the fact that the crowd of more than 40,000 people gathered there had done so specifically to see him and not the rest of the team, since this has been a dismal season for the home squad, and the immediate future is better not considered at all because it will be like this, except without Derek Jeter.

I'm a lifelong Yankee fan and make no apologies. In my five decades of paying attention to this team, I have not seen a player as beloved as Jeter. I saw Mickey Mantle play in person, and he was basically a god in the sport. I lived through the bleak years and saw Don Mattingly as the only bright light on the dark horizon and he was adored in the fans' eyes. But neither of them was Derek Jeter.

In five years, give or take a few months, Derek Jeter will be in Cooperstown, New York to be enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame. That is not debatable; it will happen. And while his statistics in the sport are indeed impressive, he was never the flashiest player on the field. Many mediocre players hit more home runs. Even in his younger days there were those who questioned his fielding range. Now a group of statistics cultists explain how he's really not all that good a player. 

They're wrong, but that's beside the point. Derek Jeter is the ultimate Yankee, the face of all Major League Baseball, because of his parents insistence from a very young age that he behave like a gentleman and be responsible all his life. He has not disgraced them, ever.

Dating supermodels, actresses and anybody else who might grace the cover of Maxim? Sure, he did that. Have a little practical joke fun with teammates, acquaintances, even reporters? Yeah, that was part of the deal with Jeter. Did he ever give an interesting interview? No. The answers were bland and information-free, and that led to zero scandals and no horrifying revelations. Did he let us in to see what the innermost Jeter was like? Sorry; that was for family and friends. Mostly family.

What Jeter gave the fans was his best effort, every single time. It's unfortunate that most players don't run as hard as they can on every ground ball, because they know they're going to be thrown out. Jeter ran every time. Every time.

In an era where sports news is a combination of police blotter, financial reporting and pharmacology, Derek Jeter (while making boatloads of money, let's be fair) has always been about the team first. He did what it took to win, and he won a lot. His statistics were secondary--the only thing that mattered was whether or not the game was a victory. A season without a World Series title was a failure. End of story.

Derek Jeter will retire universally respected throughout the world of sports. He will be given a ceremony Sunday to send him off in grand style, and he'll get it at Fenway Park, home of the Yankees' most bitter rivals. Expect the fans, who have booed Jeter for decades, to stand and cheer, and mean it.

If you are not a Yankee fan, a baseball fan or a sports fan but read this blog each week or (hopefully) each day for perspective on the publishing business, consider this: Once he retires, Derek Jeter could literally do anything he wants to do. Star in television and film? He could. He hosted Saturday Night Live some years ago and did not embarrass himself. Become a media mogul? Sure, it's possible.

Could he devote himself to charitable works? His Turn 2 Foundation has done a lot to help kids live healthy lives and turn away from drugs and gang violence in tough areas. Jeter could certainly make that his key focus.

Famous as he is, Derek Jeter could do all those things, and probably will do some of them. He's said he wants to travel, that he would like to start a family. He has mentioned the possibility of owning at least part of a Major League team (Josh, could you advise him on that?). At this time in his life, it is not an overstatement to say that anything he decides to do is a strong possibility, and that he will probably be successful at any or all of these things.

But the first venture that will definitely be on Jeter's agenda after the hoopla dies out next Sunday and then there is no more Derek Jeter in baseball? 

Derek Jeter is starting his own publishing company, an imprint of Simon and Schuster. You have to love a guy who likes books.

This week's reminder: The MISSING HEAD CHALLENGE is scheduled for--waddaya know!--16 days from today, on October 8! Buy a copy of THE QUESTION OF THE MISSING HEAD by E.J. Copperman/Jeff Cohen and take a photo of yourself with the book (or title page of the ebook). Post said picture on Facebook or Twitter for all (especially me) to see. For everyone who does that on Pub Day (which you might have heard is October 8), I will donate $3 to ASPEN, the Autism SPectrum Education Network, and our own Josh Getzler's HSG Agency will match the donation. That pledge is good for the first 100 people to post--be one of them! 

Confessions of an Agented Agent

Danielle Burby 

When Josh asked me to take over his blog for today (because he is still recovering from shoulder surgery), I couldn't, for the life of me, decide what I wanted to write about. Foreign rights? The vote for Scottish independence and the power of the historical narrative to impact life today? Why I love stories that tackle social issues? Nah. But there is something people have been asking me about a lot recently and that I'm never sure quite how to handle. It's something I love discussing, but feel a little bit strange talking about with people who know me in my publishing life. My experience as a junior agent/playwright. 

 

For those who don't know, I am a produced, and agented, playwright. It's a big, crazy, adventure that I never explicitly planned to take, but that brings me some of the greatest pride and joy I've ever felt. 

 

Ultimately, I see my two careers as very different, but complementary, parts of my life. I strongly believe that being a writer myself makes me much more sensitive to the needs of authors, especially when it comes to communication on the editorial side. I, too, have had people tell me, "I love your work, but please tear up the entire thing and rewrite it." I have been given editorial advice I didn't agree with and stood my ground, defended my choices. On the flip side, I have also learned to hear criticism, no matter how painful it may be, and to accept when I need to make changes. I honestly don't want to tell you how many times I rewrote my first play. I actually changed the ending midway through the play's run, if you can believe it! Now, although the play has already been produced and reviewed, I know I'll have to go in and make more changes if I want it to move up in the production ranks, as I hope it does. 

 

What this means for the writers I work with is that I understand exactly what I 'm asking of them when I write a big fat editorial letter and say, "So look...we need to completely rework the structure here," or, "That character that we both love actually doesn't belong in this particular book," or even, "You might want to consider changing genres." I give my notes with all the empathy in the word and I have the battle scars to prove it. 

 

Working on the agenting side also gives me a very clear perspective as to what it's like out there for writers. It shows me how important it is to be polite and professional at all times, whether you're a writer, an editor, or an agent. I've learned the importance of email tone and how to develop relationships. I think every writer should make a real effort to understand the business side of the industry because sometimes, when wrapped up in the creative side, it can be hard to remember that that's just what this is: a business. 

 

However, it is a business that revolves around creativity. One of my favorite parts of my job is looking into the heart of a narrative and figuring out, with the author, how to bring it to the surface. I love talking to authors about their visions and working as a team to strengthen their ideas and take the book another step forward. As a writer, I know that there's only so far you can bring a story on your own. As a publishing professional, I like to be the person, or one of the people, who helps someone take their novel one step farther. 

 

Ultimately, I'm a fiction junkie and I love being part of the conversation, whether as a reader, a writer, or a junior agent/assistant. So yes, I am both a person who writes and a person who works with writers. I love those dual roles because they give me a broader perspective, and by understanding both sides of the same coin, my love for each is cemented and my ability in each is strengthened. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Back to School

Two things that tell us summer is ending - kids going back to school and a daytime high in the low 50's. In Minnesota we got both of those things the last two weeks. For my kids school started the day after Labor Day.  And this week we have been treated to highs in the 50's and low 60's. I am happy about the weather, but even happier about the start of school!

Five days into the school year, my fourth grader's teacher sent out the information on ordering books through Scholastic. My kids love books as much as I do. Taking them to a bookstore is quite dangerous because they will have a huge stack of books in no time. Libraries are a little easier on the wallet. After all, the fines for late books don't match the cost of buying even more books for our house. (The boys already have an impressive library.) I am excited to see what the boys will pick out. Last year my oldest son was into Minecraft books and the "I Survived" series. One of my twins reads any and all hand me downs from his older brother (I have two very advanced readers) and my other twin has just started to embrace reading. Nothing warms my heart more than when we get home from football practice and my reluctant reader and my oldest immediately open their books to start reading!

All of my kids are supposed to read every night. And how does that affect me? I find myself reading more as well. Because I read so much for my job, there are nights when I just don't want to read anything at all. Yet there is something magical when you see three heads buried in books. It makes me want to join them in their adventures. Getting lost in a book is the best feeling in the world. Then I saw this on facebook:

 

Knowing that my boys are taking in these stories, making them come alive with their intrepretations and imagainations, well, it reassures me that there will be books and stories and adventures in their lives for years to come.

(If you have any suggestions for kids's books - lay them on me! My oldest is in fourth grade. He used to only read non-fiction, but now has added ficiton. He is currently reading the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series. My twins are in first grade. One is at a third grade level, the other at first/second grade. They read anything, but more fiction than non-fiction. Thanks for any suggestions!)

The Day of the Ever-Full Inbox

Josh Getzler

 

Today was one of those where the astonishing range of the writers I work with came out in force. It reminded me why this job, with its stress and never-shrinking inbox (Summer Slowdown? HA!) is so consistently fascinating.

 

Today, over the course of nine hours, I dealt with the following people and events:

 

1)      A new author, who wrote a wonderful young adult novel filled with angst, poetry, and first love, agreed to let me represent her. When Danielle gets back from vacation she will dance, since she put this novel on my desk and said “READ THIS.” It’s called My Pablo Neruda Summer. Watch out.

 

 

2)      While I was on the phone with New Client, I was handed an envelope from Putnam, with a first copy, hot off the presses, of Todd Moss’s The Golden Hour. It’s always such a thrill to hold a first copy, and this one stands to MOVE.

 

 

 

3)      Once off with New Client, and done tweeting the picture above, it was time to go to a meeting at Oxford University Press with a client, Professor Jenna Weissman Joselit, whose examination of America’s fascination with the image of the Ten Commandments is going to come out in 2016. I was not simply the least intelligent person in the editor’s office; I felt rather that I was the least intelligent person in the building. On the way out I stopped for a moment at Tim Bent’s office. Tim, who’s now been editing at Oxford for many years, was a classmate of mine at the Radcliffe (now Columbia) Publishing Course in the summer of 1990. We realized that there might not be more than one other member of our class (Random House editor Jordan Pavlin) who made publishing his or her career. And I took a 13 year sabbatical!

 

4)         On my return I had meetings with our summer interns, one of whom was updating our editor database (editors change houses a LOT!) and was getting started on a new project to track foreign sales of Geoff Rodkey’s new, hysterical middle grade series The Tapper Twins, whose imagery is slightly less elevated at times than Jenna’s (dead fish in knapsacks, half-eaten cronuts…). Coincidentally, that was followed by a call from Geoff himself, with some questions about the second in the series.

 

 

5)      Finally I had a chance to work on some emails. It was 4:30. These ranged from confirming a visit from the talented young writers from Writopia, to organizing a drop-in from Dead Guy Guru Jeff (“EJ Copperman’s CLOSE PERSONAL FRIEND”) Cohen, to downloading a new contract to asking for a new author to send me her debut Young Adult novel about teenage angst and love in 18^th Century France. A lovely bookend to an always-interesting day.

 

And the inbox remains full.

 

How We Think of Diversity

Josh Getzler

 

This week, I was lucky to have one of my newest clients, Nikki Trionfo, visit our Chelsea offices. Nikki has written a terrific, searing young adult novel about a girl in California who’s trying to investigate her sister’s death. The girl, Salem, is the daughter of a peach grower in California, and the novel, called Shatter, brings into play the conflicts among white middle-class growers, Hispanic migrant workers, unions, and gangs.

 

One of the things I enjoyed about Shatter is the way Nikki brings in characters of different races and socio-economic statuses and shows their interaction in a natural, unforced way. When I took her on, I told Nikki that one of the more sought after elements in fiction these days, both in children’s books and books for adults, is Diversity. My colleagues on both the buy and sell side of publishing are actively looking for books that address cultural, racial, and sexual diversity, and I felt that when she finishes her revisions and we go out on submission, we will have a very enthusiastic response from editors.

 

This afternoon I was looking on Nikki’s website, http://www.nikkitrionfo.com/, and I saw her latest blog post. It was fascinating. In it, Nikki brings up this conversation, and how it took her aback. She hadn’t thought she was writing a book with a Diversity theme in it at all. Rather, she was writing from her own experience growing up in the orchards of California, where different cultures mixed all the time—it felt so natural because it was.

 

Often, we spend our time in our own bubble of similar-looking and –behaving communities. And often writers, working off their own experiences, create homogenous casts. And part of the need for diversity in literature is to give future readers and writers role models to look to—so sometimes we strain ourselves looking for diversity. (And that’s not a bad thing, and has great cultural relevance and worth.) Which is why I’m so excited when I get a book like Nikki’s where the diversity is so second nature as to be that much more powerful. I can’t wait to see where it lands.

Plot BIGNESS

Josh Getzler

 

Recently, Danielle and I were discussing a number of queries we had received where the setup and buildup were outstanding, the manuscript was rolling along, we were wondering “hmm, I wonder how this will play out,” and then…

BANG—Conspiracy of Templars!

BANG—The evil bully is actually an alien!!

BANG—The GOVERNMENT is out to get the 12 year old!

(No, this is not about any specific query, but a type. If you think this is about YOUR query, read on, then revise!)

OK, so here’s the thing: If you are writing a big international thriller, a YA adventure with Save-the-world written all over it, or epic fantasy, then fine. Go ahead with the Uncle Who’s Really a Triple Agent from the 28^th Century.

But the books we were reading where this was happening were smaller in scope; mysteries and domestic dramas and YA novels that were, in some fundamental ways, cozier than that. It’s not necessary for a kid to find enough nitroglycerine to destroy the world three times over in the neighbor’s garage; he can find a stash of porn or a couple of kilos of coke. The bad apple down the block could have issues smaller than being three light years from the planet Xenon.

My point is pretty basic. Most novels have a built-in scope, where the reader is nodding along and where the suspension of disbelief is reasonable. When a writer, for reasons of ambition or because it seems cool, or in order to work out a tricky plot point, goes beyond scope, it is jarring. Eyes roll. We ask “Why????” We don’t want to read further, or we ask the author to walk it back.

Sometimes the writer will make a reasonable point: “We always hear that books need to be BIG in order to ‘make an impact in the market,’ and that’s what I was trying to do.” OK, fair enough. But almost all the time, the issue is far less about the true Bigness of the story and more about trying to compensate for a plot deficit.

And also understand, I’m not saying don’t be ambitious. I don’t want only tidy dramas in small towns or, you know, Good Expectations. But when you are thinking “OK, what if the dog can fly?” PLEASE be sure that you set it up that the spaniel drank a whole mess of magical non-poisonous jet fuel for dinner. 

Trust

Josh Getzler

So we’ve been back from Winter break for a couple of weeks now, and it’s given me time to think about the reading I did on vacation. I read a number of manuscripts, some from clients and some requested projects from folks we’ve been considering, trying , Sisyphus-like, to make a dent in the “to-read” queue.

 

Much of what I read fell, one way or another, into Dark Young Adult for Girls. Some had elements of science fiction, some were historical, some were straight-ahead contemporary. But I found myself noticing a trend which, as it came up again and again, I felt warranted public comment.

 

The trend was the situation where the lead girl, who’s been traumatized by a particular illness, life circumstance, or by just being a teenager, is paired with the Sidekick Who Can Help, and then spends half the book misunderstanding the SWCH’s motivations (almost willfully), thus slowing down Progress until it’s almost too late.

 

OK fine, so this is the setup for buddy movies, rom-coms, and stories forever. But I’m seeing two things going on now. The first is that it seems to be taking longer—too long—for the Protagonist to get on board. It’s becoming a primary plot point (possibly designed to try to show the protag’s depth and personality). The Second is that it feels like a crutch, like the authors have manufactured conflict because they are not confident enough in the basic plot. And that’s ironic, because in each case over the break (and there were more than five of them), the overarching plot was fine—terrific, often—and the character-conflict served only as a distraction. The plots were complicated enough without unnecessary misunderstandings. I wanted to say to these girls “STOP IT! JUST STOP IT! (S)he can HELP you. (S)he’s proved loyalty to you , like, a hundred times. Get over yourself and get on with solving the murder/saving the world/finding the boyfriend/protecting the treasure!”

 

I guess my point to writers is this: Unless your story DEPENDS on conflict between a mistrustful protagonist and a secondary character who’s very different from the protagonist, don’t overplay this plot point. It served to make the protagonists less likable—I grew annoyed with their rigidity and unwillingness to forgive or get with the program. Have faith in your plot, and don’t get bogged down in petty bickering. Sure tension between characters (particularly if they are potential love interests) is useful and important. But resolve it and allow for cooperation before the reader wants to smack your protagonist.

 

I hope that’s helpful. It is not saying that everyone needs to be pliant. Just that it’s a plot point that ought to be resolved in time for the Team to work smoothly and for the people to trust each other.

Children and Bookstores: Perfect Together

Marilyn Thiele

Today was the 4^th annual Take Your Child to a Bookstore Day. This is not just a national event; more than 500 bookstores from every state in the US are joined by booksellers in Canada, the UK, Australia and Germany in encouraging parents to foster a love of books and bookshops in the next generation of readers.

This annual event was started by Jenny Milchman, author of Cover of Snow and the forthcoming Ruin Falls, whose love of bookstores led her to spend seven months on the road this year, visiting booksellers all across the country. I was fortunate to have Jenny at The Moonstone Mystery Bookstore early in her tour, and to meet her two lovely children (and wonderfully supportive husband), who inspired her to create a holiday when children everywhere would be introduced to all that bookshops have to offer.  

Every author I have met in this wonderful second (really third) career as a bookseller has been sincerely supportive of bookstores, particularly independents, even in this age of electronic books and on-line selling. But Jenny Milchman is in a class by herself; even before her book tour, she spent her vacations traveling the country to visit bookshops. If anyone is keeping track for the Guinness  people, I am sure she holds the record for bookshops visited, and also for booksellers who consider her a friend. On tour, she left a small (and yummy) gift at each stop, with a tag that still hangs on my bulletin board: “Thank you booksellers, keepers of community, culture, and conversation.”

Take Your Child to a Bookstore Day is not a literacy program.  Milchman says, “It's really about the fact that there is a physical immersion to reading a book and there is a physical immersion to choosing that book, or there can be, and when there is it becomes almost a completely different experience. It says something to a child in a way he'll never get if he just sees mom order a book online." I have written before about the joy I experience in watching children choose books in my shop. They are as wide-eyed and awed as if in the more commonly referenced “candy store.” When they are allowed to make their own choices, to hold and scan the volumes, to take time exploring all the possibilities, to talk to the bookseller, they realize that a bookshop is a place where people know, love, and discuss books, and that they are welcome to become part of that community.

In this world of on-line shopping, it is possible that even the most privileged children will be denied the opportunity to browse in a bricks and mortar bookshop.  Jenny Milchman’s efforts to combat this potential loss of an important formative experience for the young booklover need support from all of us. Take your child to a bookstore on the first Saturday in December next year, where there will be special events to welcome him or her. But don’t wait until then. Take a child to story time. Take them to shop for themselves. Of course, give gifts of books for the holidays, but include a gift card or certificate and the promise of a trip to the bookshop to redeem it. And interpret the words “your child” broadly: if you don’t have biological offspring, borrow a niece or nephew or neighbor’s child and show them where the booklovers hang out. It’s the future, not just of bookstores, but of the community of booklovers.

And thank you, Jenny, promoter of bookstores, lover of children, and giver of hope to both.

 

What Makes Agents Happy (one thing, anyway...)

 

Baker's Dozen 2013 Report

 

Josh Getzler

 

Today was the annual Baker's Dozen Auction, an online contest run by children's book blogger extraordinaire (and, full disclosure, awesome HSG client) Authoress.

 

For several weeks, Ms. A and her partner in crime Jodi (INCARNATE) Meadows go through a slew of submissions consisting of a tagline and the first 250 words of an unpublished manuscript. They choose 60 submissions, post them on Authoress's blog--Miss Snark's First Victim--and watch the magic happen.

 

There is magic because Authoress, in her winning yet determined way, has convinced (roped in) 13 agents to evaluate and bid on the exclusive right to consider either parts or all of the most promising of the submissions. That day was today.

 

This is the third year I've participated in Baker's Dozen, and it's one of the more fun days of my year for a couple of reasons.

 

The first reason is because over the years the agents have taken to talking some serious smack before and during the auction, both on Twitter and on email (which is BRUTAL. Looking at YOU Brooks Sherman and Lauren MacLeod and Michelle Wolfson).

 

The second is that it allows us to let our hair down and show the kind of public enthusiasm for manuscripts that we always WANT to show but so rarely get the opportunity to do in public.

 

I was looking at Facebook this afternoon, and my friend, author M.J. Rose, was asking what the point is of this auction. Isn't publishing a buyer's market? Can't we just take our pick of the best manuscripts anyway? Why are we competing? Rather than recreating it, here's what I said:

 

M.j. Rose--it's fun as much as anything else. We (the agents) get to talk smack with each other while we give writers an indication as to the kinds of books we like to read (and at times how effective a tag line or first 250 words can be). We spend so much time being the voice of negativity to querying writers that it's nice for us to show even for an hour or two why we got into this in the first place--because we WANT to be excited by a query, by a beginning, and when we are we can get giddy. Every so often one of us finds a client from the auction (the pages are chosen by a panel run by the blogger Authoress in consultation with some writers or editors she knows), and it kind of helps everyone--drives traffic to her site, gets the agents' names out there, that kind of thing...

 

And there it is. We get happy. We are doing our job and can pull aside the curtain. We can (virtually) hang out with our friends. And who knows? Maybe we'll take one all the way. And wouldn't that be just great? I won auction #56 today.  It's a young adult novel set in Paris. We'll see...

 

 

 

 

 

The Family that Reads Together ....

Marilyn Thiele

A few weeks ago, Time.com published “What Schools Can Do to Help Boys Succeed” by Christina Hoff Summers. There was nothing startling or new, just the observation that boys are more active than girls and think differently. The second of her three suggestions sparked my interest, however: “Turn boys into readers.”

Turning young people, male and female, into readers is more of a challenge than it was in the past. The new technologies offer many alternatives. Watching films, once a special occasion requiring a trip out of the home, is now an on-demand feature of daily life, from Youtube to Netflix to who knows what else that I haven’t kept up with. Games, once requiring a coordination of schedules among friends, can be played alone or with anyone available on-line at any time. The attraction of sitting alone quietly reading non-mobile black letters on a white page, even an electronic page, pales in comparison.

Hoffman points out, and I doubt there is much disagreement, that good reading skills are critical to both academic and workplace success. But there is a large and growing gap in skills between boys and girls, as evidenced by the fact that more women complete college degrees and graduate degrees. Assuming that both genders are required to do the same amount of reading for classes in primary and secondary schools, the difference may well be in the amount of independent or “pleasure” reading.

Reading as a chosen activity for “free” time may be more appealing to girls than to boys, who are more inclined to physical activity. (I know I am generalizing, but bear with me). But I think the real problem lies with the reading material. Hoffman’s article points to a study showing that girls prefer fiction, magazines, blogs and poetry; boys like comics, nonfiction and newspapers. My own experience as a bookseller bears that out.

Our school district seems to have universally imposed a 20-minute a night “pleasure” reading requirement on the elementary and middle school students. Many late afternoons bring mothers and children to my shop, looking for a book the child will enjoy while being forced to read. I’m sure that some good will come of this, and I do my best to make suggestions that will turn the homework requirement into an anticipated joy. The girls are much more willing to try something unfamiliar. The boys are pretty firm in rejecting suggestions, but a little unclear about what they would like. The mothers reject the “comics” (graphic novels) that appeal to them, and even the nonfiction must have a lot of action to get a glance from the boys. It is unfortunate that some really good fiction now available for middle grade boys (and girls), such as Rick Riordan’s Heroes of Olympus series, gets rejected as being “too long.”

An incident my sister related to me illustrates how the most reluctant reader can be turned into an enthusiast with a little creativity from teacher or parent. She teaches Special Ed, and had a student who had no interest in developing his reading skills; nothing appealed. As she listened to him talk to other students, she became aware of his keen interest in sports. So every morning she brought the Sports section of the local newspaper to class for him. Once he discovered the amount of information and opinion about his favorite topic available, he couldn’t wait for each day’s news. And reading the newspaper lead to a comfort with reading other material. He knew he could do it.

I make a suggestion to parents who come in to my shop with reluctant readers, and it works with boys as well as girls. It’s been pretty well established that children in homes with a wide selection of books, and parents who are readers, are more likely to become avid readers themselves. Too many parents, even those with the best intentions, have little time to read for pleasure themselves, and so the “modeling” is not done. I would bet that most of these parents read bedtime stories to their children when they were toddlers. And the children were not reluctant then. Yes, the reading is good for the child, but the appeal is the physical closeness and the full attention of the parent. It seems that once school starts, the child learns to read, and this bedtime sharing stops. Why not continue?

 When my son was in elementary and middle school (pretty much up until the time the hormones started), we read together. In the evening, he would read me a chapter, and I would read him a chapter. If  Dad was not traveling, there were three chapters. I think the appeal was more than the books; it was the sitting together on the sofa, paying attention to each other rather than the televison, and sharing an experience. After we finished The Trumpet of the Swan, we all walked around for days laughing “Ko-hoh! Ko-hoh!”  The books became part of our shared history.

When a school librarian suggested Redwall to me as I made that difficult search for books a boy would like, my son was 10 and I thought it might be a little advanced. But we gave it a try, And something miraculous happened. He stretched to keep up with his parents’ reading skills. And then he decided that he wanted to read the rest of the series, and was not going to be slowed down to two or three chapters a night. We would have to find something else to read together; he took off on his own with the denizens of Redwall Abbey and hasn’t stopped reading since. Now that he is an adult, I’ve hooked him on crime fiction, but that’s another blog post.

A child, boy or girl, may be reluctant to read, but is unlikely to be reluctant to have the full attention of one or both parents. When I suggest to parents having difficulty getting their boys to sit for twenty minutes to read at night that sharing it with them is better than nagging (and actually requires less energy), they are amazed that they hadn’t thought of it. I’ve been getting feedback indicating that there has been some success.

Of course, this gives me another problem, and I was glad to see that the Time.com article had a suggestion I, too could use. Lists of books that boys like are available on Guysread.com. It is organized by subject matter rather than grade level, but when the seeker clicks on a title, the age level is available along with a summary, page count, and rating by other users of the site. This site has become a great resource for me for ordering purposes. It is also a great resource for the young reader; a boy can go there to see what other “guys” are reading, know that “guys read,” and bring his own requests to the bookshop. They’re even on Twitter!

 So if you’re struggling with that reluctant young male reader, go to Guysread.com, let him choose something that sparks his interest, visit you local bookshop, and sit down to read together. It’s a very pleasant experience.

Out sick today...

Josh Getzler

...So I'll ask that you all just look below this post, wish Jeff and his CLOSE PERSONAL friend EJ Copperman a Happy Pub Day, and also Happy Pub Day to all the writers with new books out today. (Special Shout out to Steve Hockensmith, whose Nick & Tesla's High-Voltage Danger Lab also launches today; and a wistful congrats to Keith Raffel for A Fine and Dangerous Season.) 

Censorship is a Pain in the ASS

 

Josh Getzler 

First of all, I didn’t expect to be writing this particular column today. I’ve spent the past two days working on the launch of my client Helen Wan’s fabulous novel The Partner Track, which has had an amazing narrative and a unique marketing and publicity angle. Helen has had the first two of her appearances in the last 24 hours, and we’re getting some great momentum. And I will write about this process, because it deserves writing about and makes me intensely happy.

But then I was on Facebook and I saw a post by another of my clients, Mary McCoy, who’s a librarian in California when she isn’t writing searing YA noir.

The post had to do with Meg Medina and Rainbow Rowell, both of whom have written children’s books dealing with tough situations of bullying, coming to terms with growing up, kids trying to navigate adolescence. Both authors speak all the time at schools. And both recently were uninvited to appearances because small, small-minded groups of parents determined that the words in their books—“Ass” in the title of Medina’s “Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass” and a number of curse words in Rowell’s Eleanor and Park—made the messages of perseverance and tolerance in their books irrelevant: Their children needed to be protected from the word Ass.

Medina was told she’d still be allowed to read at the school—provided she neither stated the name of her own book or showed a picture of the cover (see above). This was the way she responded:

I’ll say only this:  I make absolutely NO APOLOGIES for the title of my book. The title is bold and troubling, and it suggests exactly what’s inside. Besides, we can fret all we want about the word ass, but that word isn’t the real trouble, is it?  What’s hurting our kids is the savagery on their phones, and Facebook pages and in their classrooms.  That, and the reluctance of those around them to step up and do the tough work of pulling the issue out into the open and talking about what bullying really looks and sounds like and about its radioactive impact that lasts for years into the future.

Rowell wasn’t  even certain she’d been uninvited, until her contract with the State of Minnesota was returned. She said in an interview here (http://the-toast.net/2013/09/17/chat-rainbow-rowell-love-censorship/), that

“The Parents Action League is mostly responding to the cursing in the book – there’s a lot of it.

But it’s so bizarre to me that they’re objecting to the cursing because Eleanor and Park themselves almost never swear. I’m not anti-profanity, personally, but I use profanity in the book to show how vulgar and sometimes violent the characters’ worlds are. The very first line of the book is:

XTC was no good for drowning out the morons at the back of the bus.

Park pressed his headphones into his ears.

He’s trying to block out the profanity! And Eleanor hates that her stepfather curses so much. She complains about it throughout the book.

There’s also some pretty vulgar sexual language that the parents have objected to: Someone harasses Eleanor by writing gross things on her school books. It’s one of the more traumatic things that happens to her.”

So let’s get this straight: Two authors, writing books they are hoping will be read by children and teenagers who can empathize with the bullied and abused kids portrayed, are prevented from talking to these same kids because there is cursing (which is pretty broadly defined if you use “ass” as a line in the sand). It’s astonishing. Bullying, both in person and online, is such a massive problem now that you end up seeing heartbreaking articles like this one (http://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime/queens-girl-12-hangs-citing-harassment-article-1.1352387) and this one (http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/14/us/suicide-of-girl-after-bullying-raises-worries-on-web-sites.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0).

I’ve got two daughters. One is 10, the other, 11. They have had their run-ins with bullies. They are young, but growing up really quickly. They have access to social media, and they have lockers in the hall of middle school. They are now on a break for ten days for the end of the Jewish holiday season. I’m going to Barnes and Noble tomorrow morning and I’m buying them each a copy of Yaqui Delgado Wants to Kick Your Ass, and my whole family is going to read it and talk about it. And it’s tragic that the kids in the school Meg Medina is not going to visit won’t have that same opportunity.

 

For more information, click here http://megmedina.com/2013/09/04/author-uninvited-a-school-decides-im-trouble/ and here http://the-toast.net/2013/09/17/chat-rainbow-rowell-love-censorship/

 

Sisyphus and Marketing

Josh Getzler

This summer, more than anything else professionally, I’ve had the opportunity to explore the periods just before—and after—a book is published, and really analyze what an author, a publisher, and now also an agent need to do  in order to position a book for success.

Look, until a certain period of time in the past, an author wrote a book, attracted a publisher, signed a contract, and was more or less able to assume that the publisher would take it from there. Now, there are certainly many folks who say that that period ended very recently, but I recall differently.

In 1991, I was working as an editorial assistant at Harcourt Brace Jovanovich under the legendary, irascible Anne Freedgood (one of the few people I know for whom “irascible” is both a condemnation and a compliment). I ended up leaving Harcourt and publishing and going to business school because I was so frustrated that, as editors, I felt our hands were tied by conservative and short-sighted policies toward marketing and publicity. We were publishing a marvelous, beautiful, fanciful novel called A Case of Curiosities by Allen Kurzweil. We had paid very good money for it. It had received terrific reviews. The author had written a gorgeous book. Anne had edited well, and the designers and production folk had put together an excellent package.

And it was absolutely dying on the vine.

I couldn’t fathom why there was no money for ads in the New York Times. (I know, I know, it’s a waste of money…most of the time.) I saw the sales dwindle after a few weeks, stopped seeing it on the front tables in the bookstores, never saw anyone read it on the subway or the beach. I despaired, and I went to get my MBA specifically in order to understand how to sell books.

And now it’s 2013, and so many of the problems still exist. Authors still write gorgeous books, which are packaged well and at times given reasonable advances—and die on the vine in precisely the same way that Allen Kurzweil’s novel did in 1991, and so many have before and since. And I wonder why, and at times I despair for this business, for its seeming randomness.

So this summer we started thinking about the differences between 1991 and 2013, and most specifically how an author can work to promote his or her book both before and after publication in order to create the elusive buzz and to achieve sales success through either pre-sales or sales after publication. Sometimes the publisher takes the lead; sometimes it is up to the writer (who most of the time hasn’t bargained for a position of such primacy in the marketing—after all, isn’t it enough to write a book strong enough to be released into the public???). Sometimes there is support and enthusiasm from the publisher, sometimes the author is made to feel like he should be grateful just to get a deal, and should go back home and be satisfied.

So we think, and we analyze, and we adjust. When we can find a particular market segment to target and the author has a platform within that segment, we try to exploit that advantage. We see if television exposure works (not terribly often if you are a talking head, in terms of resulting in folks actually clicking the Buy button on Amazon; but more likely if you are the subject of a story). We see if posting on genre-appropriate blogs work. We see if Tweeting and sharing on Facebook make a material difference, and for how long prior to publication you need to build up your base (hint: it helps if you have an established web presence, at least within your genre, from the get-go, but it’s certainly possible to make up for lost time as long as you aren’t perceived as overly craven).

Finally, we try to find places—not bookstores—where the author can appear and speak to the end user. For a children’s book writer, that’s often a school or a library. For a lawyer or a business author writing with expertise about a particular industry, that could be to conferences or firms or to different divisions of large companies. In these circumstances, what’s often the difference between success and leaving money on the table (as it were) is the combination of time, energy, and resources. We have brought on interns and part-timers to call schools and law firms and coordinate appearances, and work with the publishers to ensure that there will be books available to purchase at the events. We help create a degree of buzz.

But what causes the tipping point between a nice tour and a long, extended sales arc? Seemingly it’s the confluence of everything—the book, the package, the reviews, the appearances…and the support by the publisher. And that can be alchemy. Sometimes it’s throwing money at a book (which is nice, certainly). Sometimes it’s a galvanized sales force that goes to its retail accounts and gets the elusive traction. Sometimes it’s ads in the paper or on Amazon or on the subway. Sometimes it’s simply making the book ubiquitous.

And that part, what goes into the elements of that last paragraph, is REALLY HARD. So few authors get all of it. My clients laugh at me because at some point in my relationship with every client I tell them straight out that I am managing their expectations. I’m not subtle. And when I do, I try to figure out what the first point is where that author will be happy, and start by trying to exceed that point. Sometimes it’s simply seeing a book in print. Sometimes it’s earning out an advance. Sometimes it’s getting enough sales to ensure a next contract. Sometimes it’s a specific number of sales, or an Edgar, or a spot on a best seller list. Often those marks are very difficult to hit. Often those marks are unrealistic. Occasionally we exceed them. Sometimes I feel like I’m reliving Allen Kurzweil’s experience over and over, and need to go back to business school to try to figure out a new way to help these books succeed.

But then we close a new deal, and a new book starts the process, and we start to parse the markets, and I think, “This is the one where we figure it all out.” But even if we figure it out once, it’s not necessarily replicable throughout publishing—a cozy needs something different from a middle grade fantasy, which needs something different from women’s fiction. It keeps things interesting, even if it feels like I’m constantly rolling that rock up the hill and waiting for it to slip. But once in a while, you get traction, and then you go back down the hill and start over with the next rock.  

Ender's Game homophobia / homoeroticism

Jessy Randall

Like many people, I loved Orson Scott Card's novel Ender's Game, first published in 1977 and soon to be a major motion picture. It's the story of a remarkable boy manipulated by his government into using his talents and skills in a faraway war. I really want to go to the movie, but I really, really don't like the idea of supporting Card, who is anti-gay, in any way. So, what to do? I'm rereading the book, wary of a hidden anti-gay message. If I find one, I can't go to the movie.

So far, I have to laugh, because I'm finding -- big surprise? -- gay overtones throughout the book. Battle School is an almost-all-male world, and closeness between males is a comfort. It's like ancient Greece -- in more than one way.

When Ender must say goodbye to his friend Alai, the boys share an intimate moment (p. 51 in the 1991 edition): "Alai suddenly kissed Ender on the cheek and whispered in his ear, 'Salaam.' Then, red faced, he turned away and walked to his own bed at the back of the barracks. Ender guessed that the kiss and the word were somehow forbidden ... After such a thing nothing could be said. Alai reached his bed and turned around to see Ender. Their eyes held for only a moment, locked in understanding."

I'm not implying that Ender and Alai have a sexual relationship -- they don't -- but language like this seems loaded, to say the least. Similarly, here's Ender's reaction when he meets another boy, Bonzo Madrid (p. 55): "A boy stood there, tall and slender, with beautiful black eyes and slender lips that hinted at refinement. I would follow such beauty, said something inside Ender."

Oh, and did I mention the so-called "sleep-uniform" (p. 54)? "Skin from head to toe." The book takes place in a world where young boys (and a very few girls) sleep naked in communal bunk rooms. Fraught with contradiction much, Mr. Card? Presumably, the sleep-uniforms will not show up in the film.

Not only do they sleep naked in the book -- they jog, work out in the gym, and wrestle in their sleep-uniforms (p. 125 and p. 147). Ender and his friend Bean share a bed at one point (p. 140). For no reason I can fathom, part of the novel takes place on a small planet called Eros (first mention p. 173). On this planet, Ender's teacher tells him " 'In this school, it has always been the practice for a young student to be chosen by an older student. The two become companions, and the older boy teaches the younger one everything he knows. Always they fight, always they compete, always they are together' " (p. 185). The companions sleep in the same room, too, though in this case the teacher sleeps on the floor.

I'm not the first one to notice homoeroticism in Ender's Game. A quick Google search shows that many readers have noticed homoerotic overtones in the book. Librarian and writer Emily Lloyd articulates her mixed feelings about the book (similar to mine) in the online comic Shelf Check, here.

Scholars, too, have written on the topic. In 2009. James Campbell published "Kill the Bugger: Ender's Game and the Question of Heteronormativity" in Science Fiction Studies (Vol. 36, No. 3); he says "I read the Ender's series as being at odds, on matters of sexual identity and desire, with Card's public stance as a Mormon fundamentalist." 19 pages later, Campbell concludes: "Card’s fiction provides a more nuanced and tolerant response to homosexuality than his more direct social commentary ... [science fiction] allows people, both writers and readers, to say things they would never articulate without the mask of genre."

So maybe I can go to this movie after all.

 

Addendum, August 14, 2013: Here's a related article by Kate Bonin, "In the Bugger Tunnels of Planet Eros: Gay Sex and Death in the Science Fiction of Orson Scott Card," first published in the New York Review of Science Fiction, December 2002: http://www4.ncsu.edu/~tenshi/articles/Boninessay.htm

Guest Post—I Sing of Independent Bookstores

Amanda Newman

Note from Josh:

So I was sitting happily if frenetically at my desk this afternoon, thinking about the eight—EIGHT manuscripts I need to read—when I got a call from my wife, Amanda, who was walking on the Upper West Side.

“You don’t need to write your blog tonight,” she said.

“Why?” I thought. “Have we skipped Tuesday?”

“I want to write it this week,” she said. “I want to write about independent bookstores.”

A couple of weeks ago, when I wrote about the Kindle Daily Deal, the Dead Guy bookseller, Marilyn Thiele, wrote to me that she should apparently close up shop because obviously Amazon was going to drive her out of business. Amanda’s guest column, below, should be the antidote. Don’t call the movers, Marilyn!

(Oh, I guess I should say, by way of introduction, that Amanda is a World History teacher at the Ramaz School in Manhattan, and is the inspiration behind—among other things—my abiding love of all things Tudor.)--JG

 

Let me begin by saying right off the bat that I love all bookstores. Really. They all draw me in, whether they’re large chains (as a kid, I loved the WaldenBooks stores in malls) or small independent bookstores. The Barnes & Noble on 82^nd Street and Broadway is my home away from home, and where I have spent hours searching for novels and cookbooks and reading with our kids. The folks there are incredibly knowledgeable and unfailingly helpful.

 

But in my guest blog post I sing of independent bookstores and the teacher mom.

 

It goes like this: I am a history teacher, which is a wonderful job ALL months of the year, but a particularly easy one in July and August. When the grading is done, and my desk is finally cleaned (ed. Note: HA!), I have time to wander and peruse. And although I have projects pending (new paper assignments, new curricula) I have much more free time and invariably find myself strolling the neighborhoods of Manhattan.

 

This summer, my son is taking a three-week creative writing course at Columbia University, and I have been dropping him off each morning. On my return downtown, I pass several lovely bookstores along Broadway, and I stop at them all—often consecutively. The Bankstreet Bookstore has a lovely selection devoted to education books for teachers, and I have already bought a book about making history more meaningful and fun for students, whose ideas I hope to incorporate this fall. Another fine independent bookstore is Book Culture, where I spent a lot of time (and money!) this morning. I noted with pleasure their huge middle grade section, where Geoff Rodkey’s New Lands was face out on the shelf. I bought a book of Neuroscience Haikus by Eric Chudler (sample: Memory fleeting; Cannot remember who, what; No hippocampus.) and a French vegetarian cookbook.

 

These small bookstores remind me of all the bookstores that populated the Upper West Side (and all of New York City) when I was a kid. I am very nostalgic for these places, like Shakespeare and Co. (ed. Note: The people there were RUDE!), or Eeyore’s (lovingly fictionalized in the movie You’ve Got Mail). They somehow seemed like places where you didn’t need to need anything in particular, but you wanted everything so much. The booksellers really love the books, and want to talk to you. My husband Josh Getzler and I seek them out wherever we go (like last summer in Woodstock, New York) and always chat with the sellers, exchange picks and usually buy something nice.

 

So here’s to your neighborhood bookstore. Talk to the booksellers. Tell them what you like (be sure it’s one of my husband’s clients). Sit and read—to yourself, your friend, your kids. Attend an event. And then be sure to buy something wonderful. I recommend Neuroscience Haikus.

 

 

Born to Run—to Camp Ramah

Josh Getzler

Every year on the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, WPLJ radio in New York broadcasts its morning show from Jenkinson’s Pier in Point Pleasant, New Jersey. There are bands playing live, the atmosphere is festive. I used to listen every year I worked in baseball as I drove from my apartment in Manhattan to the ballpark in Staten Island. And every year, the highlight of the broadcast was the same: The traffic guy, Joe Nolan, would get up on stage and tell a long story about his father taking him out to the shore in the summer, and how now, as a father himself, he marveled at his own life. Then he would pause, yell “1, 2, 3, 4!” and bust into a highly emotional, slightly off-key but marvelous Born to Run. I once found myself feeling oddly choked up on the New Jersey Turnpike as I yelled along with Joe Nolan.

I feel like every summer I write a blog post about the day my girls go to camp. It has to do with being a dad of daughters who are still little but grow more worldy and somewhat more inscrutable by the day, even as they are still willing to hug me and still cry when they get on the bus. Only now it’s for seven weeks straight, and that’s a long time.

And every year I talk about what they read, and what they read on, as technology changes and they become more sophisticated and plugged in. Which is why it was fascinating to me that this year they went without e-readers at all, and simply took their books with them the old fashioned way—weighing down their backpacks and crammed among the lip gloss and the illicit granola bars and the sunscreen, in hardcover and paperback.

Now this is not a judgment—I’m not proud that they’re reading print books or disappointed that they aren’t reading on machines (or vice versa, if that’s even logical). Rather, it was interesting, and I was thinking about why. And I came up with a couple of answers:

The first is that a couple of years ago, when I first started chronicling the kids’ adventures in reading, they read shorter books. Therefore we could load, say, 117 My Weird School books onto the Kindle and send them on their way. Now that they are older, they read longer books, but fewer of them, and with more words per page. And they mess around all evening when they might be reading, doing things like talking to their friends and (ahem, girls) writing letters to their parents, who miss them. They’ll get through the books they bring, but don’t need as much of an inventory.

The second (although the first was more than one point), is that they are fundamentally indifferent to the platform on which they read. They have so many options at this point, and they are all “normal” now, as opposed to a couple of years ago when it was cool to read on a tablet, that they go with the most convenient (and frequently best looking). And in this case, the one they don’t need to plug in or keep safe from, say, getting wet.

So this morning I stood with a hundred or so other parents (around a third of whom were crying at any given time), waving vaguely at the tinted window where we think we saw our particular kid’s face flit by, though it could be Maya. My son, who just started a writing program and is now going to have my wife and me to himself for a couple of months, was waving frantically saying “I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you…heh.” Several of the other parents were people I went to school with myself, now with dogs on leashes and smaller children who haven’t yet started day camp holding on to them. I stepped back for a minute, looked around, and started humming Born to Run.

The Sleepover

Josh Getzler

Last night, after months of first negotiation then anticipation, the Newman-Getzlers hosted a sleepover party for our daughters. They both have birthdays during the summer, so they rarely have had parties with school friends. That’s how we ended up with six girls under the age of 12 spending the night in our apartment along with my wife Amanda, our son Joe (whose blogging shoes I’m reluctantly—and, I suspect, unsuccessfully—trying to fill), and me.

I say “spending the night” because “sleeping at our house” would be lying. Not so much sleeping. First there was the mid-afternoon bowling, followed by the Wii, followed by the pizza followed by the movies followed by the cupcake “decorating” (read “smearing frosting all over their faces like shortstops’ glare-b-gone”).

Then it was 11:15 and the sugar rush was starting to fade and I walked into our daughters’ room. There were the six girls, sitting in various positions on or near the beds, each on her smart machine. Mostly it was phones, though there were a couple of tablets as well. Some were playing games involving fruit (?). Most were taking photos of their socks and posting them on Instagram. “I HEART ITA’S SOCKS! (followed by seventeen Imogi (??)” Nineteen friends not at the sleepover then commented, largely complimentarily, on this fascinating developing situation. My wife looked over my shoulder and shook her head.

“In our day we read BOOKS at our sleepovers.”

I almost did a legit double take.

“Oh bullshit,” I said. “In our day we watched “Emergency” and “Eight is Enough” and “The Love Boat,” then ate too many cookies and talked until midnight or until our parents got mad and made us go to sleep.”

“We also did makeup and pretended we were Cher.”

We shrugged, looked again. They were having long, involved conversations. By text message. While sitting next to each other.

Brave New World. 

Guest Post--Classics, Inc.

(NOTE FROM JOSH: I was sitting down to write this evening when the Boy, two days done with Middle School but not yet a Freshman, tells me to step aside. “You’re tired,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

Clearly he has been. And he’s not shy about discussing it. I hope I miss the train to Weenieville.

JG)

Classics, Inc.

By Joe Newman-Getzler

                What is a “classic”? Depending on whom you ask the answers could vary wildly. For some, a classic could be a book like Murder on the Orient Express, a movie like Casablanca, or a song like “Let It Be”. To others, a classic could be a book like Diary of a Wimpy Kid, a movie like Johnny Dangerously, or a song like “Boom! Shake the Room." This need not only apply to books. The term “classic” can also be applied to anything from a good joke to a memorable sports play. But what, indeed, is a classic? And how does it unify these many different things?

                To most people, a classic is merely a thing that stays in their head for a long time, usually for a positive reason. But to some, the name goes much deeper than that. A classic means a piece of cultural significance, something considered a great thing that all should love and cherish for its greatness. Typically, there is a predetermined set of “classics” for any kind of genre or type. For example, if you want a “classic” book, the names that’ll probably come up would be books like Animal Farm, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Catcher in the Rye, or Gone with the Wind. A “classic” movie? You’d probably see names like Citizen Kane, Some Like it Hot, or Singin’ in the Rain. But should we have our classics defined for us? Or should we form our own opinions on what is classic and what’s not?

                This is a question that has been troubling me for a while now: what’s a classic and what’s not? The reason this has been rumbling through my mind is because lately I have been trying to give myself a “classical” film and literary experience. Summer’s just begun, and now that I have gobs upon gobs of time to spend, I want to fill them with great books and great movies. For the former, my family has been supplying me with tons of great books like To Kill a Mockingbird and The Catcher in the Rye. And yes, they are great. But I will admit, my standards for classics are pretty low. The whole school year was peppered with classic books in my English class, like The Woman Warrior, The Chosen, Animal Farm, you name it. But my ideas of classics are Dave Barry is Not Making This Up, Bugs Bunny: 50 Years and Only One Gray Hare, and There Is No Dog. And yet, Mom and Dad say not to read those over and over. Read The Hobbit. Come on! It’s only 500 pages long, you wuss!

                Movies are another area of “classics” that drive me crazy, though for a different reason. While I would consider myself a rather decent film lover, there are still so many movies I haven’t seen that I feel pressured by myself to watch. Seriously?, I ask myself. You haven’t seen Citizen Kane? Jaws? The Dark Knight? You, sir, are on the train straight to Weenieville. And even my gym teacher’s let into me about my lack of film exposure: he spent 10 minutes telling me how I simply must watch The Empire Strikes Back in order to truly deem myself a Star Wars fan (BTW, I’ve only seen A New Hope and Return of the Jedi. That fact led to not only the aforementioned monologue, but another about how I should watch the prequels because, yeah, they suck, but I MUST have the complete Star Wars experience.) And yet, I also feel that there are a great many films that I truly love and yet many don’t even think of in the same league as “classics.” Seriously, does nobody but me consider UHF a classic? Charlie and the Chocolate Factory better than the Gene Wilder one? I feel so lonely.

                It’s times like this when I start to think about how subjective a term “classic” is. Can only what has been previously called a classic be a classic? Can others come up with their own “classic” films to share with the world? That is my hope. While, naturally, classic books and movies are to be revered and respected, they aren’t the only good books and movies out there! I wish more people would realize that. And YES, I am going to watch The Empire Strikes Back this summer. But the prequels? Hmm. Maybe. But for now…keep on readin’.                                                                                                    

The Amazing Food Detective

Jessy Randall

I recently attended a local production of "The Amazing Food Detective," a program from Kaiser Permanente intended to teach kids about health and nutrition. I can honestly say that I have seldom enjoyed an experience in a theater more. I laughed my butt off, and so did the rest of the audience.

Okay, so almost everybody there was in elementary school, but I'm telling you, it was genuinely funny. The kids in real life actually looked like they were having as much fun as the kids in the picture on this page. The crowd participation was 100%. It was everything you want a mystery to be -- surprising and satisfying.

As with many mysteries, even if you knew the ending from the start (in this case, junk food is to blame for a soccer player's lethargy), the play still managed to take unexpected, entertaining turns. For example: at one point the Food Detective, looking for clues, pops out of a trash can; at another point he pulls a pair of enormous underpants out of his vest. Yes -- Kaiser Permanente understood the play's audience very well.

I couldn't help but notice detective fiction tropes throughout. The Amazing Food Detective in this particular production put on a plaid hat when he got serious about detecting, and made use of a massive magnifying glass. (Our detective was a man; refreshingly, the detective on Kaiser's website and game is a woman.) These accoutrements and others reference Sherlock Holmes, but our Food Detective didn't smoke a pipe -- after all, this is a kids' play put on by a health insurance company. (I wonder if kids nowdays know Sherlock Holmes. Probably not, but perhaps they know Sherlock Hemlock from Sesame Street. He doesn't smoke a pipe either.)

Other mystery tropes -- the finding of clues and the moments of discovery -- were greatly exaggerated in the play. The Food Detective, we learn, is in the business of collecting "A-Ha"s. Whenever he found a clue, the audience was instructed to yell out "A-HA!" (which we did with great enthusiasm). Additionally, we got the detective story mainstay of the damsel in distress when a soda can puppet spoke to the Food Detective in a sultry Southern accent, saying "Aren't you thirsty? Come and have a sip of little old me!".

The play ends with the players telling the audience that we are ALL food detectives. A nice ending for anybody, age four to forty-four to four hundred.

Perspectives on Process

Josh Getzler

This week, I participated in an online conversation with author (and my client) Geoff Rodkey and Putnam editor-in-chief (and Geoff's editor) Jennifer Besser at the marvelous middle-grade-oriented website www.fromthemixedupfiles.com. I think it gives a fun insight into the three perspectives that often go into the creation and publication of a book. We aren't saying exactly the same things, but I think the idea of creativity and collaboration and thought that goes into deciding how to position a book are worth reading. So I will leave you to click onto the site here , though I also will be happy to answer any questions or comments left below.

Oh, and if you get the chance, go out and pick up Geoff's new novel, New Lands, which continues the Chronicles of Egg started in Deadweather and Sunrise (out now in paperback!).

 

 

 

 

John Bellairs continues to be awesome

Jessy Randall

Last month I talked about John Bellairs's children's book The House with a Clock in Its Walls and said my daughter wanted to read all the books in the Lewis Barnavelt series. We've just finished The Figure in the Shadows. Like the first book, it was wonderfully creepy and spooky. Reading it made me think of a famous passage from Stephen King's Dans Macabre (1980):

“I recognize terror as the finest emotion and so I will try to terrorize the reader. But if I find that I cannot terrify, I will try to horrify, and if I find that I cannot horrify, I'll go for the gross-out. I'm not proud."

Bellairs's work sits squarely in terror. For most of The Figure in the Shadows we only know that something scary is on the way. The scary thing only appears in the final chapters; even then it's barely seen. On page 78, Lewis Barnavelt receives a scary postcard that says, in Latin, Venio ("I come"). Such a postcard -- a POSTCARD -- should not be so scary. But it is VERY SCARY. The next scary thing, an old newspaper blowing around in the wind -- A VERY SCARY NEWSPAPER -- appears on page 119. My daughter and I were TERRIFIED.

With this book, Bellairs reminds us that a figure in the shadows can be much more frightening than, say, a well-lit monster. No one has written a full-length biography of Bellairs. I wish someone would.

The Pleasant Sociability of Reading Aloud

Josh Getzler

Last weekend, I was out in New Jersey visiting my in-laws with the family. It was the end of Passover, and including my brother-in-law's family and some friends, there were fifteen people (including seven children) hanging around the house.

My youngest daughter, Ita,  had an English assignment and decided that for her report she was going to read one of the books I represent--Geoff Rodkey's wonderful and clever Deadweather and Sunrise. As something of a treat, and in order for her to get into the rhythm of the story (and because, having read it, oh, ten times already, I was pretty fluent), I agreed to read the beginning to Ita, with the understanding that she'd take over after a reasonable number of pages.

Turns out that "reasonable" meant a hundred and twenty. And it was a pleasure. Beside the actual words of the story, which are funny and at times quite beautiful and poignant (when people aren't hitting each other with rocks), a fascinating thing happened: I acquired an audience. Slowly, over the course of the hour and a half or so that I read, people found their way onto the porch.

They had all read the book already--Deadweather and Sunrise was my go-to book last summer, and my son and wife had read it when it was on submission. But there was something about the whole sociability of sitting together and hearing a story that was magnetic. By the time I got to "and I realized REDACTED (read it yourself!) was trying to kill me" and closed the book, there were eight or nine people in the room.

We spend an enormous amount of time hanging out in front of screens. We write posts and emails and text messages. Particularly when kids aren't around we rarely sit together and read to each other. Heck, the Author Reading as social event at the local bookstore has almost disappeared as publishers have realized that blog tours are generally more efficient and cost effective than sending writers on the road (except--as is the case right now with Geoff Rodkey himself, coincidentally--when they send a group of authors on tour together to visit schools and bookstores en mass).

So it was particularly fun--in a retro, quaint way--to read to Ita and the greater Jersey Shore. It helped that it was a lively book, and on a holiday where we don't use electronics so the audience was somewhat captive. And everyone walked around the house smiling for a few hours at the sheer pleasantness of the experience. Ita has not, in fact, read on this week--the return to school has taken over her free time. But it's almost the weekend, and the days are long, and I think the immediate family is going to NEED to hear how Egg escapes from REDACTED.

The House with a Clock in Its Walls still holds up!

Jessy Randall

Since I'm a librarian, I frequently bring home books from the library for my kids, books that they most certainly did not request. (Of course, I also bring home their requests.) The ones I bring home unrequested are usually books I remember from my own childhood. Sometimes my choices pan out big time (the Little House series, the Mushroom Planet series). Sometimes, not so much (I cannot get my kids to read The Great Gilly Hopkins no matter how I try).

Recently I brought home The House with a Clock in Its Walls, a book I remembered only very vaguely from my own childhood. The paperback edition I got is billed as "A John Bellairs mystery featuring Lewis Barnavelt." What I remembered: it is spooky and distinctive. What I learned, reading it to my daughter at bedtime: it is definitely both of those things, with illustrations by Edward Gorey (love!) and a gothic spirit you don't usually see in children's books. This is no Goosebumps, with gross-outs (not that I'm against those). It is truly scary, and the magic in it seems very real.

At the same time, it has a heartwarming goofiness to it that made me want to hug the author. The main character, Lewis, is a chubby crybaby of a kid who, guess what, turns out to have enough inner courage to save the world. Oh, and he's an orphan, too, like a certain mega-popular wizard you may know. He writes his own spell to solve the mystery of the clock, and his made-up magic is as goofy, loving, and lovable as the main characters of the story.

I don't remember reading other books by Bellairs as a kid, but my daughter has requested ALL the Lewis Barnavelt books, so I guess we can call that a success.

Nancy Drew for $6500?!

Jessy Randall

I can't seem to get off this Nancy Drew topic. Talking to my aunt last week made me wonder what mint-condition vintage Nancy Drew books might be worth. A visit to abebooks.com yielded some surprises. Currently for sale: a first edition of The Password to Larkspur Lane (1933), in dust jacket, for sale for $6500. Now, there's no guarantee it will sell at that price. But that's what the dealer is asking. The copy is described as in "very good" condition, which any collector will tell you is quite different from "mint" or "as new" or "fine."

The next most expensive Nancy Drew for sale right now is a first edition of The Clue in the Diary (1932), also in "very good" condition, for $2500.

I wondered if I would find any Nancy Drews claiming to be signed by the author, since Carolyn Keene didn't actually exist. I didn't find any, but I did find a book signed by Mildred Wirt, one of several authors who used the Keene pseudonym. She published, under her own name, Ruth Darrow in the Fire Patrol (1930), and there's a signed copy available for $650 right now.

 

Thoughts from a Nancy Drew collector

Jessy Randall

Talking to kids about Nancy Drew led me to interview my aunt Peg about her collection of vintage Nancy Drew Books. Peg is a New Yorker by all but birth and very glamorous. She is now in her sixties but you wouldn't guess it. I didn’t know until recently that she collected old Nancy Drews. 

 

 

 

 

Do you still read the books, or just collect them?

I still read them. Even now, it’s almost embarrassing to admit, the books are page turners. When you get to the end of a chapter, you MUST keep reading to find out what happens. 

Are there things in the books you notice now that you didn’t notice as a kid?

Yes, definitely. From my perspective now, though I didn’t notice these things as a kid, I see 1) what a thoroughly modern woman Nancy was. She changed her own tires on her roadster, she dried out carburetors. She was not helpless. She tackled problems fearlessly. 2) how unfortunately racist many of the books were. In The Mystery at Lilac Inn, for example, a "dark-complexioned" woman is described as "impudent," "insolent," "swaggering," and having a "sly look." In The Mystery of the Ivory Charm, an Indian man is cruel to animals and children, and “his eyes bulged with superstitious fear.”  In The Clue in the Old Album, a grandmother explains that she has little control over her granddaughter, “Perhaps…because of the heritage on her father’s side.” (Her father was a gypsy.) Throughout this book, gypsies are portrayed in a negatively stereotypic way.

Even as a girl I was aware of the absurdity of Nancy falling into all those mysteries. I laughed even then at the boilerplate writing that appeared in all the books – her “famous criminal lawyer” father; his “sparkling blue eyes” and more. Also that Nancy never appeared to go to school.

Do you read any of the new versions that are out now?

I am a Nancy Drew purist, in that I don’t want to read the revised mysteries making the story details more current. I like the 30s and 40s time frame. In re-reading one of the books, I was confused as to why Nancy felt she had to rush home from her outing in her blue roadster when it looked like there was going to be a big storm. Nancy didn’t strike me as the type who would be afraid of driving in rain.  As I read on I realized that in those days the secondary roads were not paved so a big rain would turn the dirt roads to mud. And sure enough, Nancy ’s car got stuck and so she had to go to a farmhouse for help, leading of course to a new mystery.

An eight-year-old weighs in on favorite mysteries

Jessy Randall

My daughter Celie is eight years old, just about to turn nine. Here are her answers to my questions about a mystery series she likes, Archie's Weird Mysteries, which are comic book versions of a television series of the same name. They are available as paperback books and as ebooks for the iPad and iPhone.

What do you like about these books?

I like the characters, because they are the same ones as in my favorite comic books. I also like the setting, Riverdale.

At what age did you first one of these?

8

Are they too scary for little kids? What age do you think they would be best for?

They would be good for all ages.

Do you need to read the books in order?

No.

What else would you say about these books?

You always want to read on.

 

Goin' Back to Cali

Josh Getzler

The day after she returned from winter break, my assistant Maddie asked if she could meet me for coffee the next morning. There she told me that, having gone home to visit her family over the break, she had decided to leave New York, leave agenting, leave this model of the publishing industry (at least for now, and at least most likely), and go back to California.

All of this was understandable, if disappointing. She has many pulls to go back West, and she’d clearly thought it through carefully. But there was a professional reason as well, which says a lot about this industry even if changing it would require blowing up a model that has existed for decades.

Let me back up a second. One of the disappointments to me for Maddie’s departure is that in fact she had been doing so well—and not just in her assistant role, at which she excelled. She had made a large group of friends and contacts within the industry—she’d networked within her “class” of junior agents and younger editors, and had been an active and competent presence with the editors I worked with on my own books. When she came to me after a somewhat shorter than usual time and said that she had been working on a novel and asked if she could represent it, I felt she would be able to do the job. She did, and had an auction on her first submission: Mary McCoy’s wonderful and chilling historical YA noir Dead To Me. She seemed to be very much on her way to proceeding—pretty quickly—toward success as a literary agent.

That’s why her professional rationale for leaving publishing made me really sit up and take notice. She is leaving, she said, because traditional book publishing the way it is set up is simply too slow-moving. She’s young and capable, and she took a look and saw that it would take years for her to see the fruits of this labor, both in terms of the satisfaction of building a list and seeing the books come out, and building up her commissions to the point where she’d be able to make a good living.

I think the turning point here was when, after a  taking on Mary’s book and selling it quite nicely at auction, she found out that Dead To Me was scheduled to be published in September or October of 2014. So it would be a year and 10 months from Deal to Shelf. That’s a hell of a long time. But because of the timing of the deal (and all the publishers time their cutoffs slightly differently), Hyperion had closed its spring and summer 2014 seasons and the first slot they had was in the fall. Perhaps they’d been buying YA more aggressively and were crowded; perhaps there were competitive titles. Whatever, it was going to be almost two years before Maddie and Mary were going to see their book out in stores.

This isn’t particularly strange, either. I’ve had three novels in the past two years be purchased and come our more than a year and a half after the deal was done. There wasn’t much editorial work or any complications. Just scheduling.

So that was a particular frustration, and it feels counter-intuitive when writers are independently publishing their books very quickly, and some e-original or e-first publishers are able to get books out with a very short lead. An example would be Elaine Powell’s historical thriller The Fifth Knight, which Thomas and Mercer published in serial form. We made that deal in September, and the first piece of the serial came out at the end of November. I received a finished book last week, and start-to-finish it was four months.

 The problem there is that The Fifth Knight received no traditional reviews (Publisher Weekly, Library Journal, Booklist, Kirkus, etc), and couldn’t be publicized in the traditional ways.

So Maddie’s conundrum, which I think translates to just about anyone involved in the greater publishing world, is that while there are ways to be very quick, to be very efficient in the physical production of books (particularly digital), the traditional seasonal timing of publishers’ lists creates a frustrating backlog between deal and publication. The tradeoffs are clear, and at this point (at least while there are still enough brick-and-mortar bookstores to matter) unsatisfying.

Now, is it unreasonable to want both efficiency in timing of publication and payment and effective marketing strategies that remotely resemble the traditional journalism-based review-driven campaigns? Perhaps. But I think it’s going to drive a continued wedge between traditional and independent publishing until we do, and will create a somewhat divided, inefficient industry. And it will drive more and more smart young professionals like Maddie out of the industry, to businesses with greater flexibility and speed.

So Godspeed Maddie—we will miss you. You will succeed and flourish. Thank you for everything.

 

Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys: further thoughts from eleven-year-olds

Jessy Randall

My post about the Mysteries in Our National Parks series, in which I interviewed my own kid, led me to talk to a few other eleven-year-olds about their mystery-reading habits. Here are Coleman Horner's thoughts on Hits and Misses, a combination Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys "Super Mystery" first published in 1993.

What did you like about the book?

I liked the action and the plots. It's quite serious and has lots of danger. It isn't funny. The slight bit of romance in it ties in well with the mystery.

At what age did you first read it?

8

Is it too scary for little kids? What age do you think it’s best for?

It's not too scary. I think 9 would be the best age.

I also talked to Coleman's classmate Hannah Svarverud, who, coincidentally, is a fan of the Nancy Drew books.

What do you like about the series?

I like that Nancy and her friends find so many clues and try to figure out the solution to the mystery. There is some danger in the books but they always get out of it. It takes a while to read each book because there are so many details.

At what age did you first read a Nancy Drew book?

10

Is it too scary for little kids? What age do you think it’s best for?

It's not too scary. 8 would be about the right age.

 

I did not tell Coleman and Hannah that the authors of the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys series, "Carolyn Keene" and "Franklin W. Dixon," do not exist. (The books were authored by multiple employees of the Stratemeyer Syndicate, founded 1905, which was also responsible for several other series, including the Bobbsey Twins and Tom Swift.)  

Mysteries in Our National Parks: An 11-Year-Old's Thoughts

Jessy Randall

My son Will, age eleven, has been reading the Mysteries in Our National Parks series by Gloria Skurzynski and Alane Ferguson, so I thought I'd interview him about those books.

Mom: So, which of these books have you read?

Will: I've read Cliff-Hanger (#3), Deadly Waters (#4), Ghost Horses (#6), Valley of Death (#8), and Running Scared (#11).

Mom: What got you started reading them?

Will: Grandma gave me one after she visited one of the parks. I think they sell these books in the gift shops at parks. I haven't seen them at my school library.

Mom: We've found them at the public library, though. Do you like them?

Will: They're pretty good. I'd give them a solid four out of five stars. Every chapter ends with a cliffhanger and they have no boring parts at all.

Mom: What kind of stories are they? Are the characters always the same?

Will: It's always the same kids who solve the mystery, plus one extra kid who's an orphan or something who the family has taken along for the trip. Endangered animals are often part of the story, like maybe a particular animal goes missing and the kids have to figure out what happened to it.

Mom: Should kids read them in order?

Will: No, definitely not. It doesn't matter what order you read them in. They are kind of scary, so I would say you should be at least eight to read them. There are situations where people are in serious danger, like at one point the kids are in a dark tunnel and their candle is almost gone, or another time a mom is hanging by her fingertips over a deep chasm.

Mom: Do the books make you want to visit the parks?

Will: The one that took place in Yellowstone made me want to go there because the author made it sound really beautiful.

Mom: Thank you for participating in this interview and soon you'll be in a blog!

Will: Cool!

Speaking of lesbian subtexts...

Jessy Randall

Velma isn't the only girl sleuth whom some have interpreted as gay. Anybody remember Cherry Ames?

In the mid-20th century, readers could choose from three series about girl detectives: Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, and last, Cherry Ames, created by Helen Wells. Wells and Julie Tatham, the Trixie Belden author, wrote 27 books in the Cherry Ames series altogether.

Cherry was, of course, utterly wholesome and cheerful and perky. She dated occasionally, but had no steady boyfriend. Most of the book jackets showed Cherry in her white uniform and often proclaimed on the back “It is every girl’s ambition at one time or another to wear the crisp uniform of a nurse.” (Indeed, the books always paid careful attention to the uniform, describing it and Cherry’s off-duty snappy outfits in great detail.) 

Cherry didn't have Nancy Drew's staying power, and by the 1970s her books were out of print. The character had a rebirth in the 1990s, however, when Mabel Maney created a series of gay parodies of the girl-sleuth series books, bringing out their (almost certainly unintentional) lesbian subtext. In her first book, The Case of the Not-So-Nice Nurse, lesbian detectives “Cherry Aimless” and “Nancy Clue” discover more than just the solution to the mystery. And guess what? This and the follow-up book, The Case of the Good-For-Nothing-Girlfriend, include a lesbian character called, you guessed it ... Velma.

The Cherry Ames books are back in print and now available in a boxed set, and Maney's Nancy Clue and Hardly Boys books are still going strong at Amazon.

(The main source for this blog post is my own entry on Cherry Ames in the St. James Encyclopedia of Popular Culture, published 2000.)

 

Scooby-Doo, A Review of the Literature

Jessy Randall

After last week’s post, I thought I’d see what the scholars had to say about Scooby-Doo. Strangely, I find very little academic work on the topic. (It really is strange. There are reams of books and articles and conference presentations on pop culture phenomena from Bugs Bunny to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but almost nothing on Scooby.)

Richard M. Levinson’s “From Olive Oyl to Sweet Polly Purebread: Sex Role Stereotypes and Televised Cartoons” (Journal of Popular Culture, Volume IX, Issue 3, Winter 1975, pages 561–572) may contain the first appearance of the Scoob in an academic journal. The article is a study of gender in Saturday morning cartoons of the period (the mid-1970s). Levinson makes many find points, but I suspect he didn’t actually watch any cartoons; he refers to a character named “Bella” on Scooby-Doo, describing her as a “Superbrain” (presumably he means Velma). He appreciates that the Scooby gang is “somewhat balanced” in its gender roles.

In scientific papers, I find many references to the Mars Mission of 1997, when scientists gave rocks funny names including Scooby-Doo, Casper, Zaphod, and Marvin the Martian. (See this NASA page for more information and this one for a view of all the named rocks in the Northeast quadrant.)

Megan Arnott’s paper, “Saturday Morning Medieval: Medievalisms and Children’s Television Programming,” presented May 11, 2012 at the International Congress of Medieval Studies, looks at the way Scooby-Doo and other cartoon programs have incorporated castles, knights, and other medieval tropes over the decades. This may be the only academic paper in the known universe to include the phrase “Scoobra Kadoobra,” the title of a 1985 episode involving a warlock.

Liz Laidlaw’s “In Defense of Scooby-Doo” (Relational Child & Youth Care Practice, Vol. 22, Issue 3, Fall 2009, pages 42-43) ruminates on what children learn from cartoons. In her opinion, the more recent series What’s New, Scooby-Doo “makes an effort to be a little more politically correct and switch up the stale stereotypes.” Nevertheless, she says, “no matter what happens in the beginning, I know exactly how it will end. The monster will be revealed as the angry janitor, rival hotel owner, grumpy steam boat captain or adversarial skate-board champion, uttering the words: ‘I would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for those meddling kids.’”

This makes me think how awesome it would be if someone on the show – probably Velma – would say, in a new episode, “You know, every other time we’ve investigated a monster, ghost, or other supernatural being, it has turned out not to exist, so, Shaggy and Scooby, how about if you operate on that premise instead of running in place while funny music plays,” which is a good metaphor for this whole series, actually.