When A Line Closes
https://www.autocrit.com/websitepublisher/articles/70/1/When-A-Line-Closes/Page1.html
Cathy Yardley
I didn't plan to be a writer. But, like the quote says -- if you want to be a writer, try being anything else. My life is a portrait of all the "anything elses" before I came to my senses.I graduated from U.C. Berkeley with a double major in Art History and Mass Communications. I moved to L.A. with the full intention of figuring out what job I wanted to do, doing it until I could retire, and only then seriously considering writing a novel. Why? Because real people didn't write books for a living. (Stephen King , Nora Roberts, John Grisham, Tom Clancy, they're not real people. In fact, I don't think they're human. Haven't you wondered?)
http://www.cathyyardley.com/
So I tried real jobs. Advertising assistant (read: slave), ad sales assistant, project manager, product marketing manger. Still kept plunking away every now and then at novels, although I'd hit chapter seven and stop cold on every single one of them. I hung out with writers. I joined writing organizations with the rationalization that I'd become a publicist for authors... I wasn't going to be, you know, a writer. God forbid!
I was so incredibly clueless, it was funny.
I became president of the Los Angeles Chapter of Romance Writers of America when I was 23, and did more than I ever thought I would to get our members involved. We had a writing contest that was short of entries. To encourage participation and to make sure we had enough, I turned in some of my own writing. I wound up winning first prize in the area I entered.
Hmmm, I thought. Might be on to something here.
I finished the book two years later, and queried Silhouette books. Two months later, I was rejected, but by that point I was enlightened. I worked on another book. Took me a year, but I finished it� and all hell broke loose. I was a writer, not a cubicle-worker! I quit my job, moved from L.A. to the S.F. Bay Area, and embraced the process of Being a Writer.
Then promptly went broke, and got another day job.
Three months after this momentous occurrence, however, I got The Call from Harlequin, selling my first book, "The Cinderella Solution". And everything else in my life went into focus. I'd always been a writer. I was just finally getting paid for it! Now, I'm working on my fifth book in four years, writing for Harlequin, Red Dress Ink, and New American Library.
And now that I'm a writer, I can't imagine being anything else�
By Cathy Yardley
Published on 17th February, 2009
It's always a little depressing when a series or imprint closes. There are few enough markets, it seems, and to lose two more and cause even more authors to compete for the markets you're targeting: well, it's enough to discourage any writer intent on selling. And considering one of them actually seemed to be doing well financially, it seems like sheer capriciousness on the part of the publisher. If books that are selling well can be canceled, what the heck chance does any other book have? And is there any way of predicting the actions of a publisher?
Here's an old chestnut of wisdom: the Chinese character for crisis is "danger" and "opportunity." The people who can see the opportunities are inevitably the ones who are going to come out on top.
Here's an old chestnut of wisdom: the Chinese character for crisis is "danger" and "opportunity." The people who can see the opportunities are inevitably the ones who are going to come out on top.
It's always a little depressing when a series or imprint closes. There are few enough markets, it seems, and to lose two more and cause even more authors to compete for the markets you're targeting� well, it's enough to discourage any writer intent on selling. And considering one of them actually seemed to be doing well financially, it seems like sheer capriciousness on the part of the publisher. If books that are selling well can be canceled, what the heck chance does any other book have? And is there any way of predicting the actions of a publisher?
Here's an old chestnut of wisdom: the Chinese character for crisis is "danger" and "opportunity." The people who can see the opportunities are inevitably the ones who are going to come out on top.
This sounds like a facile thing to say. But in this business, I firmly believe that attitude is the primary thing that separates authors that publish, and authors that don't. All the craft and strategy and output in the world is not going to make a difference if you're not flexible, ready for disaster, and able to roll with it. Some tricks to "rolling with it."
1. First: a little help from your friends. Get in contact with friends who understand why it's painful. Cry, kvetch, rant. Eat chocolate, drink wine, and commiserate.
2. Second: pick some "low-hanging fruit." You had proposals in to the lines that got closed. What else can you do with them? Is there another line that, with tweaking, it might fit into? Have you considered changing it to a single title, and if so, what markets might be interested in it?
3. Third: get busy, baby. If you haven't been rejected at least once, then you haven't tried getting published. Change is an integral part of the landscape. You've got other projects that you're working on. As soon as something's in the mail, switch gears and work on something else. It cushions the blow if something (like the above) happens.
4. Fourth: go for the natural pain killer. Get your body on your side. Go for a long walk, get some exercise, take lots of deep breaths. Meditate. You'll get some perspective, and your body will produce some endorphins/serotonin to help combat the line-closing blues.
First published in the SFA-RWA newsletter, August 2004. For more information on SFA-RWA, click here.
Here's an old chestnut of wisdom: the Chinese character for crisis is "danger" and "opportunity." The people who can see the opportunities are inevitably the ones who are going to come out on top.
This sounds like a facile thing to say. But in this business, I firmly believe that attitude is the primary thing that separates authors that publish, and authors that don't. All the craft and strategy and output in the world is not going to make a difference if you're not flexible, ready for disaster, and able to roll with it. Some tricks to "rolling with it."
1. First: a little help from your friends. Get in contact with friends who understand why it's painful. Cry, kvetch, rant. Eat chocolate, drink wine, and commiserate.
2. Second: pick some "low-hanging fruit." You had proposals in to the lines that got closed. What else can you do with them? Is there another line that, with tweaking, it might fit into? Have you considered changing it to a single title, and if so, what markets might be interested in it?
3. Third: get busy, baby. If you haven't been rejected at least once, then you haven't tried getting published. Change is an integral part of the landscape. You've got other projects that you're working on. As soon as something's in the mail, switch gears and work on something else. It cushions the blow if something (like the above) happens.
4. Fourth: go for the natural pain killer. Get your body on your side. Go for a long walk, get some exercise, take lots of deep breaths. Meditate. You'll get some perspective, and your body will produce some endorphins/serotonin to help combat the line-closing blues.
First published in the SFA-RWA newsletter, August 2004. For more information on SFA-RWA, click here.