Formulaic Words

There was a trending hashtag today on Twitter for #NYTBooks. As someone who once wrote something that got published in the NYTimes, I found it especially hilarious.

My suggested title for my essay, "Winnie the Pooh and Baggage, Too," was clearly not right for that publication, but the title it was actually published under, "Fuzzy, Purple and Full of Thorns," didn't seem right for the essay (not that I'm complaining, considering I was ecstatic to have a piece in the newspaper at all.  They could have called it "Not Worth Your Time to Read" and I still wouldn't have complained).

What's so interesting to me about the hashtag and its popularity is that, while the exercise poked fun at the obvious stylistic pattern of the headlines, it was at the same time a nod of appreciation. That the New York Times has a style so recognizable can only be a good thing.  It calls to mind what they say about the media: there's no such thing as bad publicity. Writing style may be the same way.

I'm not suggesting some writing styles aren't subjectively (and even possibly objectively) better than others. I am, however, noticing that authors with a very distinct style tend to be more popular.  Whether you want to praise a writing style or disparage it, you are still talking about it.  It's an idea that these days, for better or for worse, seems to be even more crucial for writers to consider.  I'm not necessarily alluding to a certain book with a neutral color in its title, but if I am, I'm still giving it extra attention, so its author must be doing something right.

Surprising Words

Regardless of where you fall on the spectrum of Amazon opinions, I think you have to be at least a little impressed by a certain small press that abstains from using the retail giant.

I had never heard of Perfect Day Publishing until I read about one of its products, Love is Not Constantly Wondering If You Are Making the Biggest Mistake of Your Life, in a Slate article. From the description, I knew immediately I would buy the book.  What I didn't know was that I would get a personalized email letting me know my order would be delayed because they needed to print more books.  I also didn't know I'd get another personalized email explaining how they had to hand-weigh the packages in the shipment so they might have made a mistake on the postage to the tune of -20 cents.  I didn't know when the book arrived, my address would be hand-written, or that I would also receive a stapled copy of A Field Guide to the Aliens of Star Trek: The Next Generation, written by a 7th grader.

All of these unknowns made my experience with the publisher so much richer and more enjoyable.  I mean, I know personalized emails are not hard to create, but the care with which the sender appeared to have put together the mail merge meant something to me.  The constant updates, the free accompanying literature--those meant something, too.  Maybe it's just because it's a novelty these days to get anything other than exactly what you paid for.  Maybe I'm just a sucker for originality.  Whatever the reason, Michael Heald over at Perfect Day is doing something right in my book.

How to Self-Publish Words

I can't tell you how many times I've thought about self-publishing...because I can't count that high.  At the rate I'm going, I wouldn't be at all surprised if one day I dove head-first into that world (well, based on my diving abilities, I guess it would have to be more like a belly-flop, but that doesn't sound nearly as fun).  In case you're getting ready to take the plunge, check out these 25 things you should know before you even dip your toes in.

By the time I got down to #25, I was thinking maybe I didn't really want to go in the water anyway because it looks pretty cold and it might be nicer to just sit on the edge for a while.  But I'm glad I read the article because that still sounds better than jumping off the high dive, blindfolded, into a pool of sharks.  (I'm not a fan of seafood.)

Long Overdue Words

When I opened my mailbox today and saw an envelope with my address written in my handwriting, for a second there I was very intrigued.  Did I send myself a letter from the future?  That would be so cool (and kind of scary).  But no.  It was a rejection letter from a publishing company for a book proposal I had sent in...over a year earlier.

We very much appreciate the submisison of your book idea to Sourcebooks.  Like most publishing houses, we receive several thousand solicited and unsolicited book ideas and manuscripts every year.  However, we publish fewer than 200 titles per year.  As a result, we are forced to reject the vast majority of the books submitted.

 I work in publishing.  I understand completely what the letter actually means:

We do not appreciate the submission of your book idea to Sourcebooks at all.  Unlike most publishing houses, we still haven't taken out that clause about accepting unsolicited manuscripts, so we receive thousands of piles of crap every year.  However, we only publish the books that have been pitched by agents, or that have previously been blogs.  As a result, we decided to let your submission get lost until our diligent summer intern found it and we were forced to do the right thing by responding.

I actually did appreciate the other rejection letters I got in a timely manner--and again, I work in publishing, so I say a few months is timely.  But sorry, Sourcebooks, 13 months is not.  So don't be surprised if, when I become a professional writer with an agent, I am forced to not submit anything to you.