And you know, I understand that to an extent. It’s scary. The economy is scary. Hell, everything is scary right now; our ocean is filling with oil and all anybody with the power to do something seems interested in doing is pointing fingers and sitting around talking and whatever. There have been earthquakes and tornados and volcanos and shit all over the world. Am I terrified that the world is ending? Honestly? Kinda, yeah. But then, I’m a bit of a pessimist when it comes to this sort of thing; I’m the only person I know who is terrified of outer space and doesn’t even like seeing pictures of it because it reminds me that the earth is this one small rock floating in nothingness and something could go wrong at any second and we could start plummeting, but there’s nothing to land on so we would just keep plummeting through the darkness forever. That’s not a pleasant thought.

It probably won’t happen, either. But I wonder if I start insisting often enough that it will, and get a bunch of people to also start talking about it and how the earth’s field of gravity is thinning, people will start to believe it.

Because it seems to me that everyone is talking about the demise of publishing, but there’s actually no real evidence that it’s dying. Everyone is claiming that ebooks will be the death of publishing, but I honestly don’t understand that at all; how is providing books in another format for people who like that format killing publishing? (Aside from the issue of piracy, which don’t even get me started on.) Aren’t we hearing about people buying more books now that they’re started reading ebooks?

I know a lot of it is just to get website hits, or because people have a specific axe to grind. And you know, none of us are without bias. I certainly don’t want to see publishing die, because it’s how I make my living. I don’t want to see us all switch to self-publishing, for reasons I’ve stated many times before but will recap quickly:

1. Ease of finding something worth reading (low when trying to go through thousands & thousands of self-published books with no quality control or vetting process)

2. Ease of publishing (sure, right now you can go to Lulu and set up a book for free; it’s what Jim Macdonald did for me with the Strumpet book. But do you really think if publishing fails, and self-publishing becomes the norm, those companies won’t start charging, or charging more?)

To be perfectly honest, my feeling is and has always been that if publishing “dies,” and everyone is self-publishing, you’ll soon have people offering to vet books for other people. You’ll have someone who realizes they can make some money by taking the best books out there and printing them for a cut of the money, and setting up some sort of nationwide distribution, and…lookie there, you’ve just reinvented a publishing house.

When people want a book to read, they want a book to read. They do not want to spend hours hunting around for something readable. (Don’t believe it will take hours, or be difficult? Here’s a site where people can post shirt stories for free, called Bibliofaction. It’s a nice site; it’s a fun idea. And I don’t link to it to pick on or put down any of the stories posted there; I link to it to show you how much there is on just that one site, and what a variety of quality there is too.)

Now I’m veering off into my big self-publishing rant again, and I’ve already covered that, so I don’t want to do it again. What I do want to say is that yes, times are a bit hard right now. Yes, I’m seeing good writers whose series don’t get to go on because sales that would have been good enough three years ago aren’t anymore, or if they do get contracted for more books their advances are lower. It’s awful and it’s sad.

But for every series that doesn’t do so well, there are series that are big hits and make tons of money. I’m tired of seeing that ignored. I’m tired of seeing specious statistics bandied about all the time, like the “95% of published books don’t sell more than 500 copies,” which sounds terrifying until you realize that the people who came up with that statistic were including every single book published, including self-published books, technical manuals, employee guidebooks, specialist textbooks, souvenir books, and whatever else. The idea that most NY published books sell less than 500 copies is simply incorrect.

This study by The Association of American Publishers estimates the publishing industry sold $23.9 BILLION worth of books in 2009. Yes, that’s down almost two percent from 2008 (although apparently in the last seven years overall it’s grown), but when you consider how the economy took a swim in Lake Shitty in early-mid 2008 especially, that’s really not that bad, is it? How much have other industries lost? If we can use this CNN article as any indicator, auto industry sales/profits dropped about 30%. Freddie Mac says home prices fell almost five percent in 2009 (it was a much bigger percentage in ’08).

Yes, it’s a scary time right now. Yes, we’re all watching it and keeping an eye on what’s happening. Yes, advances aren’t as high as they once were–at least so I understand. But we’re still getting deals. We’re still getting advances. Every day.

But that doesn’t mean we all need to start desperately casting around for some other way to earn a living, or start pontificating on how publishing is “broken” and it’s the end for it. It’s not. As long as people want to read books, there will be publishing. Quite frankly, for all the “publishing is dying” talk I hear online, it seems to be pretty limited to online; the average person–the average reader–has no idea this discussion is happening, and they care even less. And why should they? The only thing readers should–or should be expected to–care about is that they get books they want to read when they want to read them and in the format in which they want them, at an affordable price. (Readers are of course welcome to care more about it if they want, but it’s certainly not a requirement, is my point. I don’t want to bore my readers with talk about how my life will end if they don’t buy my books and I’ll end up selling matches on the street and how expensive everything is–like they don’t know that–and how I really need their help or whatever. As I’ve said here before, entertaining readers is my job. Yes, I want and expect to be paid for it, but beyond that they have zero obligation to me, and I certainly don’t expect them to give a shit about my financial situation. Remember how I’d rather not have people buy my books because I nagged them into it? Yeah. I’d rather they not buy them because I guilted them into it, either. I’m fucking lucky I get to write books for a living, and I try not to forget that and act like it’s some kind of burden.)

Anyway.

Whether the agent commission goes up to 20%, as the lovely Victoria Strauss suggests in this post (which also links back to me, making a nifty linky circuit), or whether more agents branch out into different areas of the business, or whatever…I think reports of publishing’s death are greatly exaggerated, and to be perfectly frank I’m tired of hearing about it. I don’t know if that’s me being sensible or being ostrich-like, but I’m tired of constantly feeling like the sword of Damocles dangles over all of our heads. I’m tired of feeling like there are crowds of people rubbing their hands together gleefully and waiting for publishing to fail, for whatever reason; I don’t understand it, as I don’t see why anyone would want to have to wade through slush for hours, but people can certainly do what they like.

I refuse to feel that way anymore. I refuse to listen to alarmists and bone-pickers. Will I keep in mind that things are tough all over? Absolutely. Will I remember how tight money is? Again, absolutely.

And I will use that knowledge to inspire me to write more and better books, to challenge myself more, to not take sales for granted but to remember that I need to push myself to be great, to be outstanding, to put everything I have into my work. I’ll use that knowledge to inspire me to write bigger stories, bigger worlds, bigger characters; to remember that “good enough” isn’t good enough. And so even if I don’t achieve that greatness and never get to be outstanding I at least wasn’t lazy. At least I tried. At least I didn’t forget that what it ultimately comes down to are readers, and what they want, and that my job is to try to give it to them, to impress and entertain them and make them think and feel.

So everyone else can sit around in the doom-and-gloom corner and decide the end is coming and there’s nothing we can do about it. I’ll be over here writing more books.

Because that’s what I do.

At some point in the next month or so I’m planning on doing some posts about editors and editing. A bit like my Summer Series but, since I let you all down so grievously with last year’s series, I hesitate to call it that. But it is going to be several posts about that one subject, and I have a few things planned that I think are going to be pretty cool.

One (or three, actually) of those things are interviews with my Del Rey editor, her assistant (who is now an associate editor herself!), and my publicist. (I know the publicist doesn’t really have anything to do with editing, but I thought it would be neat to hear from her anyway.)

So! What would you like to ask these fine ladies? I’m going to pick five or six questions for each of them.

NOTE: Let’s keep our questions confined to things like the actual editing process, what condition editors expect submitted mss to be in (typos, grammar, etc.), and how a book goes from ms to book and things like that, okay? Let’s please not run through the same-old-same-old questions like “What are you looking for?” and “What kinds of submissions are you tired of seeing?” or “Where is the genre heading?” Do you know what I mean? The focus of the series is on editing and the process of editing and what editors do ASIDE from acquiring books, so if you could keep your questions in that area, that would be great. Thanks!

“Chess is an intriguing character, a powerful Church witch with magic tattoos, but also a serious drug problem… She’s not your usual heroic protagonist, and this isn’t one of your humorous urban fantasies, but rather a lively thriller, full of action and ghostly encounters.”

Next, thanks to everyone who downloaded the 5-chapter sample of UNHOLY GHOSTS, and emailed me or contacted me on Facebook or Twitter to let me know how much you enjoyed it! For those of you who haven’t yet read it, why not? UNHOLY GHOSTS sample (The link is also permanently up on the UNHOLY GHOSTS page on the site, where the description and blurbs are.

Which brings me to today’s topic (see how neatly that was done?)

A while ago someone asked me in comments about blurbs, and last night I got an email asking about them again, which reminded me that I wanted to blog about them. Keep in mind this is my experience, and my thoughts, as always.

There’s a really cool post on the Reagan Arthur Books blog about blurbs, and the “karma” of them. And I believe there is a karma to them, yes.

I’ve seen a few times, in a few places, people expressing the idea that blurbs are given for money, or because the authors are friends, or whatever. I’ve never heard of blurbing for money, and I certainly can’t deny that friendship can lead to blurbs, but I have to be honest here; probably not as much as you think.

Take my blurb from Caitlin Kittredge for UG. Caitlin loved the book. Is Caitlin my friend? Absolutely; one of my closest friends (although we didn’t know each other very well when she first read UG). Does that mean Caitlin would have blurbed the book even if she hated it? I seriously doubt it.

The thing is, as writers we’re very aware of our “brand.” And what that means. We’re aware that if and when we recommend a book, our readers–who trust us–will see it. We don’t want to let our readers down, and we don’t want to disappoint them. We don’t want to mess with our own “brand” or our own reputations.

Are there writers out there who just blurb their friends willy-nilly? Oh, I imagine so. But to assume that’s the case with everyone strikes me as a bit unfair. To take Caitlin and myself again, we became friends because our tastes in and opinions on what constitutes good writing are so similar; we became friends because I loved her STREET MAGIC (and still do, with a passion) and she loved UNHOLY GHOSTS, both of which were in ms form at the time, pretty much. So of course she loves my work and I love hers; that’s how we got to know each other.

So I got a blurb from Caitlin by emailing her, and saying, basically, “Hey, you know my book that you told me you loved? Could you write a blurb for me to give to my editor?” And she replied with, “Yeah, of course! Here it is.”

I don’t try to hide my connection with Caitlin, or deny that she’s my friend. I guess if someone wants to believe her blurb means nothing because of that friendship, that’s their prerogative–just as it will be if you have a friend blurb your book, or blog about it, or whatever. But I don’t think that’s enough reason to keep from asking if your friends whose work you admire and feel is similar to yours will be willing to give you a blurb. Friends share interests and tastes; that’s one of the tenets of friendship, if you know what I mean. So it doesn’t bother me.

In a similar vein is my blurb from Ann Aguirre (which incidentally, is my favorite blurb ever in the world. I mean, “the ultimate bible of badassery?” Who wouldn’t love that?!) I knew Ann vaguely from around the internet, but not very well at all; we started following each other on Twitter, and exchanged a few comments here and there, but that was about it. But one night she said she was bored, and she was looking to read something with a different kind of love interest, someone who was rougher and not so handsome and dashing and all of that. I volunteered UNHOLY GHOSTS and sent it over to her, and she read it, and loved it. I told my editor she loved it, my editor told me to ask for a blurb, and I did. Ann is another one who I’ve become friends with because of writing; when you discover you enjoy someone else’s work, and that you have similar tastes, and even similar tones…friendships form, and it’s a fantastic thing. Because honestly, there’s nothing worse than reading a friend’s work and thinking it blows. It happened to me once, years ago, and it was really awful; I had no idea what to say.

I’m proud of my blurbs, and I’m proud to be friends with Caitlin and Ann. And as I say in the Acknowledgments of UNHOLY GHOSTS, the book is special to me for a lot of reasons, but especially because it was the book that brought some great people into my life.

So moving on. Those are my “friend” blurbs, although certainly in Ann’s case it was the book itself that really started our friendship. But I will say this one thing more, on the subject:

One of the most important things to me, as you guys who’ve been reading here for a while know, is politeness. Making other people feel comfortable, and welcome. I certainly don’t mean to sound like a braggarty braggart here or anything of that nature, but I will say–and this isn’t specifically about one of my blurbs, or even necessarily about blurbs in general–that it never hurts to be nice to people. There is simply no point in not being so.

And I don’t mean “nice” as in “If I’m nice to them they might do something for me.” I mean nice as in simply be a decent person. Treat other people with respect. Publishing is a small industry. We know who’s being a jerk to whom, or who stepped all over X or Y because they weren’t a big enough name. Well, guess what; if I’m friends with X or Y, and I get your ms mailed to me in hopes of a blurb, I’m going to say no. Why should I help someone who was rude to my friends? I don’t mean in a “not liking their work” way, and I don’t mean you need to be a kiss-ass; in fact, that’s just as bad.

What I mean is just that it doesn’t hurt to be friendly. Not to decide you’re better or more important than other people, or that they’re not worth your time. That doesn’t mean you have to spend all day every day helping others, but neither do you have to be rude when you decline to help. In any industry, it helps not to be a dick.

So. Let’s talk about other ways blurbs are given and received. In general, here’s what happens when the blurber in question isn’t someone whose email address you have, or someone you feel comfortable emailing and saying, “Hey, why don’t you blurb me up, yo?”

You and your editor will probably have a talk about blurbs, and who you think would be a good blurber, and who your editor things would be a good blurber. You may talk to your agent about this as well. You will probably agree on at least a few names.

Now, I’m of the school that believes blurbs are something for your editor to handle. I’m not a fan of emailing other writers for blurbs unless you know them pretty well. Because the thing is, it’s a lot harder to say no to a friend, and by emailing said writer yourself you’re kind of exploiting that. It may get you the blurb, yes, but it’s more likely to get you marked, at least in that writer’s mind, as an annoyance.

Others may disagree, and that’s certainly fine. Like I said, these are just my feelings and opinions.

If your agent is involved, s/he may contact a few people s/he knows to ask them about blurbing you. S/he will then pass the request on to your editor, who will compose an enthusiastic little letter about why s/he is certain that the potential blurber is going to just love the book more than anything in the world and thanking them for agreeing to look at it, and mail it off.

Again, unless it’s a unique situation or a personal friend, you don’t normally handle this. For one thing, those bound proofs can be heavy, and thus expensive to mail. Why pay for that yourself when your publisher can do it, and probably at a discount they’ve worked out with the shipping company? For another thing, it’s extremely difficult to compose a “You’ll love this I just know it” email about your own work. Yes, I guess it’s kind of like a query, but you know all those things you’re not supposed to put in your query, like “potential to be huge,” “amazing,” “an incredible new talent,” “something really special?” Yeah. Those all belong in the blurb letter. So it’s weird, and extremely hard to do without sounding like a hideous megalomaniac. And nobody wants to blurb hideous megalomaniacs.

And then? You wait.

Your editor might send some follow-up emails; again, it’s best for him/her to do it. If the connection came through your agent, s/he might follow up. The reason you don’t generally do this is the same: if it’s someone you know, they may be embarrassed to have forgotten or, worse, they may be embarrassed because they didn’t like your book. If it’s someone you don’t know at all…well, see that “annoying” thing again.

You’ll probably have people say no. It happens. Just like agent or editor rejections, it probably isn’t personal (although, when you know who a proof is being sent to, it’s a good idea to do a quick search on your blog or website or forums you frequent to make sure that if the writer in question does a google search, it won’t turn up you proclaiming to all and sundry that their latest book blows, or you hate their MC, or whatever. Because if that’s the case, then yeah, their “no” just might be personal). Your book simply may not be to their taste, and that’s fine. It’s nothing to get upset about.

Of course, sometimes they say yes, too. My Karen Marie Moning quote came this way; I didn’t actually even know my editor had sent her the books, but she had. All three of them. Karen’s blurb is for the entire series, and it’s lovely to see. I’d never met or spoken to Karen before, but her enthusiasm is of course wonderful, and I’m very, very grateful for it.

The thing is, blurbs are wonderful to have. They’re fun, and exciting. But I’ve heard more than once readers say they don’t pay attention to them. Part of this is, I think, because of the fallacy that blurbs are just a tit-for-tat, that the blurbers in question don’t even read the books or they get paid to say nice things about them.

That always surprises me, frankly. Do you really think the writer in question has that little integrity? In some cases they’re talking about writers they read and enjoy, even.

But blurbs are fun, and they’re good to have. Blurbs are important to bookstore buyers–a good blurb from a big name can jump the order numbers–and they’re very helpful when it comes to selling foreign rights.

Plus they just make you feel good. For me, I like the sense of community that comes from blurbs. I like the reminder that deep down we really love books and reading, and that we’re in this together. I like that it’s an industry where people help each other out.

So here’s the ultimate point. Blurbs are great. You want them. But don’t beat yourself up over them. And it never hurts to be friendly, and to be kind. And of course to write a great book.

And I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten something important about the blurbs, but I don’t remember what it was (obviously).

On Tuesday I’m going to go into more detail about the giveaway I’m doing for the UNHOLY GHOSTS release, but just in case the book starts appearing on shelves this early… If you buy UG, you get a free sample of the first three chapters of the second book, UNHOLY MAGIC. You email me with a scan of your receipt (or forwarded from an online site), or a picture of you with the book in somewhere that’s obviously not a bookstore, or a picture of the book somewhere not a bookstore if you’re shy, or a picture of your ereader with the book on it, or even just telling me your favorite parts of the book so I know you did read it.

The rules aren’t strict because this isn’t really a contest. It’s just a giveaway; a thank you to everyone who buys UG. Yes, I will be doing a few small giveaways as well, but again, not huge things, and just as a thank you.

You do not have to buy the book after or by any specific date, or in any specific place, or in any specific format, to qualify. I’ll probably end the giveaway in the third or fourth week of June, but that’s it.

Like I said I’m going to discuss it more on Tuesday but I wanted to get the info out there now, just in case it starts getting shelves REALLY early.

This has, as you can imagine, sparked a bit of controversy in the literary world.

I’m going to blog about it, because I feel like I should. But I’m not entirely comfortable doing it, to be honest. I don’t like doing it. I am, to put it mildly, in a bit of an moral dilemma here, and I need to decide if my ethical standards are really that strong, and I’ve decided that they are. I’ve taken a stand on this situation in the past and would be a hypocrite not to do the same again; I’ve presented myself–and worked hard to make myself–someone who helps other writers and offers advice, and I would be a hypocrite not to speak out now.

Here’s the thing. Waxman is, as I said above, and excellent agency. I know a few people–one I consider a good friend–who are repped by Holly Root there. Holly is a fantastic agent. Her clients love her, and she does a great job for them. And up until yesterday I had no compunction at all recommending her to any of my friends who were looking for representation.

But I can’t do that anymore, and that makes me sad.

See, there’s this organization called the Association of Author’s Representatives (AAR). They’re basically the professional organization for literary agents; they have strict standards for becoming a member agent, and a Canon of Ethics which is designed to make sure that standards in the industry stay at a certain level, and that authors can query AAR member agents with confidence. This Canon reads in part:

We pledge ourselves to loyal service to our clients’ business and artistic needs. We allow no conflict of interest that would interfere with such service.

and

Member’s compensation for all transactions shall be derived solely from the client. A member who represents a client in the grant of rights in any property owned or controlled by the client may not accept any other form of compensation or other payment from the acquirer of such rights. Members shall not represent both buyer and seller in the same transaction.

In other words, an agent can’t represent both the writer and the publisher in one transaction, and an agency shouldn’t have any sort of conflict of interest, such as would occur when, say, they own the publisher they’re selling their client to.

Now, before we go any further I need to make something extremely clear. There is not a doubt in my mind that the Waxman Literary Agency and all of its member agents are good and decent people who will do their best for their clients. Not a doubt. I don’t think they’re scammers. I don’t think they’re doing this to cheat their clients or other writers. I don’t think this means in any way that they won’t still try to sell their clients’ mss to NY houses as hard and as effectively as they can. Absolutely NOT.

But I still think this is a breach of ethics, and a serious problem, for several reasons.

The first…well, historical romance writer Courtney Milan has already said it quite eloquently. Go read her post. I’ll wait here. She addresses the conflict of interest extremely well, and for me to do so would just be redundant.

The second is based on this interview with Scott Waxman about the project, on Theresa Meyers’s blog. In it Mr. Waxman–who seems like a very nice, very professional man–talks about the venture, and his reasons for it.

But the thing is, as we’ve learned, and and has been discussed in the past here and elsewhere, epublishing is not like “regular” publishing. It’s a specialized industry, with its own rules. Experience and knowledge in print publishing absolutely does not necessarily translate (Quartet Publishing, anyone? Ravenous Romance?) As I’ve said here before, ebook readers tend to stay with particular ebook houses. That may be changing a bit with the advent of the Kindle and the Nook, but the advent of the Kindle and the Nook also mean that readers have a lot more options for ebooks.

In the interview, Mr. Waxman says:

We also have a strong focus on original content whereas it seems that the majority of epublishers are looking for out of print or classic eBook rights.

I have to be honest here; I have no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t even know of any ebook publishers who primarily publish reprints. I do know dozens of ebook publishers who publish new, original content every day, or every other day, or twice a week depending on their release schedule. I’m terribly confused as to how anyone could research the ebook industry and not have seen all of those publishers.

He also says:

I like the opportunity the eBook format presents to the author. There’s a sense of being able to control your own destiny for projects that the big houses don’ t want to bother with. I’ve been at this long enough to trust my own instincts on a book. So, just because a publisher says it’s “too small”, we can now attempt to prove them wrong and still make a go of it.

Which sounds great, and like I said, I honestly believe he thinks he’s doing the absolute best for his clients. But why start up an epublishing imprint, thus creating a conflict of interest and a breach of AAR ethics? Why not submit your clients to an existing epublisher, or small press? Just as there are dozens of established epublishers out there with ready customer bases, there are dozens of established small presses out there, with budgets and distribution and skilled editors and all of those other things. Why not submit to them, if the project isn’t right for NY? Isn’t an agent is supposed to keep trying until the project sells, even if it’s to a smaller house? It’s confusing, and I’m sure it’s simply worded badly in the interview, but I find the whole concept disturbing.

The fact is, this is a newbie epublisher, and as a newbie epublisher the chance that it will fail is something like 60%; the chance that it will actually make good money for its authors is way, way lower. So simply from a business stance, it’s something I would and do warn writers away from. The epublishing world is already crowded. When is the last time a new ehouse opened and became very successful? Samhain is the last one I can think of, and that was in, what, 2006? I know several have opened since then, but none have been really successful; most have closed and those that haven’t sort of limp along in writers-buying-each-others’-books-obscurity.

Which leads me to my last objection, and it’s the big one.

In March 2000, a self-proclaimed “literary agent” named Dorothy Deering was sentenced to 46 months in federal prison for defrauding hundreds of “clients” by, essentially, selling their manuscripts to a “publisher” she owned. (In reality “Sovereign House” was just a front, but the fact remains that she sold her clients–on paper at least–to a vanity press she herself owned, and charged them for the privilege.) You can read a short case study of it here, or buy the (excellent) book about the case, Ten Percent of Nothing by Jim Fisher.

And there have been others, less wealthy and successful, perhaps, but others. There continue to be others. The wonderful folks at Writer Beware keep a running list of them, and of course they’re often discussed in the Bewares, Recommendations, and Background Checks forum at Absolute Write (linked in the sidebar). I’m a moderator at AW and have been a member for years now. And it is absolutely amazing to me, shocking to me, how many scam agents there are out there. Agents who charge reading fees. Agents who charge other fees. Agents who sell their clients to vanity publishers (for, you got it, a fee).

Waxman is NOT a scam. Not, not, not. But when legitimate agencies do things like this, it makes it harder for writers to protect themselves from scams, because it makes it harder for those of us who try to help them.

How? Let me explain. When a scam agency sets itself up, it doesn’t come out and tell people–potential victims–that it’s a scam. The principals make shit up. They lie about sales or claim that information is “confidential.” They tell potential victims that “everyone charges fees.” Or, sometimes, they claim that “lots of agents are publishers too” or “lots of agencies change their own clients to publish” or “lots of authors start in self-publishing,” in order to convince their clients to sign those vanity deals they get kickbacks for. They tell them NO agents can afford to support themselves purely on commission, and that ALL agents have other ways–like starting their own publishers–to bring in cash.

So when a legitimate agency does something like this, it gives extra ammunition to every scammer out there. It’s like manna from Heaven for those who would defraud writers, those who would lie and cheat and steal from them, and sell them dreams plated with cheap fake gold. Now every scam agent out there can point to the Waxman agency, and say, “See? That agency, a big New York agency, tells its clients to self-publish first, and they own the publisher! That’ll be $2000.00, please.”

Of course Waxman isn’t charging its clients to publish with their imprint; I would never presume such a thing and don’t mean to imply it in any way, shape, or form. But the fact remains that they’ve just made it easier for every literary scammer in the world to line their pockets.

Yes, we can still tell writers not to query anyone who charges a fee. Or without disclosed sales (an agent who simply crows about “Made a sale!” without saying to whom is an agent to be avoided, generally; its very easy for a scammer to set up a blog, and indeed the Writer Beware blog has caught several scammers doing just that, including setting up fake blogs for their “clients” to celebrate these nonexistent “sales”).

But an agent who owns a publishing imprint? We can no longer use that as a clear-cut signal that the agent isn’t legitimate and won’t get you real NY sales. And THAT more than anything else makes me feel sad, and ill, and very, very sorry, and I feel terrible about the whole thing.

Second…well. My last post got considerably more attention that I ever anticipated, so that was quite a surprise. And I have some follow-up questions about it, but those I think will wait until another time. At the moment I just want to address one thing quickly, and another in a bit more detail.

First, as always, when you put things out on the internet and people see it, they’re going to react, just like when you write a book and put it out there people are going to react. And really, part of being a writer is learning to accept that and let the negative stuff roll off your back, or learn from it. It really doesn’t bother me anymore, and the comment I want to discuss didn’t bother me personally, I just find it’s indicative of what the whole point of my post the other day was.

I discovered, quite by accident, that apparently there are some people who feel that Moira and myself, and any other writer who shares our opinions, are simply kissing ass. I find this extremely sad, I have to admit. Is this what the world has come to, that when people see a wrong and speak up about it they’re immediately assumed to have some sort of ulterior motive?

Have we really reached a point where “Writers hate readers” has become the default position, so any writer who claims to actually like readers and want to see them treated well is automatically suspected of just being a big old liar, who probably spends their private, secret hours lurking in bookstores and tripping innocent readers as they pass by, just for fun? Or who runs around various reader blogs and sites leaving anonymous comments along the lines of “You’re all just thieves why don’t you go fuck yourselves you selfish bastards?” Seriously. Am I the only one who finds it really sad that we live in a world where a writer who says “I love readers, and want to please them, and want to see them treated like human beings instead of dogs,” must be an ass kisser, because the person making the accusation apparently can honestly not imagine any other reason why a writer might feel that way and express that feeling?

The thing is, I’ve been writing for about eight years now. I’ve been seriously writing–with an eye toward publication–for about five, and I’ve been publishing for almost five. Now, math is not my strong suit at all, but that’s about 6% of my entire life that I’ve spent as a professional writer. I’ve been a reader since I was four, which means I’ve been a reader for about 95% of my life (I think).

Which brings me to the other topic. As I followed links back to my post and other people having discussions about this topic, I found a sizable minority of readers who seem to honestly believe that writers hate libraries. I even found one who said an author she knows (she actually said “a new author,” which I find very telling) informed her that libraries who loan ebooks are thieves who violate the law, and that if she had her way every library would be made illegal because they all steal profits from writers.

Personally? I think if you show me a writer who doesn’t love libraries, I’ll show you a writer who really doesn’t care about literacy or reading or the craft of writing, but is merely interested in writing-as-get-rich-quick-scheme and in playing Author: The RPG.

Because a writer is supposed to care about reading. And about reading being something for all people. You guys already know my feelings on a future where literacy is only accessible to the wealthy. That’s not just a future where everyone has to pay to publish, it’s a world without libraries.

We didn’t have a lot of money when I was a kid, and I was a voracious reader. I read anything and everything I could get my hands on. And where did I manage to get my hands on books? At the library. We went every two weeks to return a stack of books and check out a new one. I read so many books the library gave me a special dispensation to go over the limit, because at that time children weren’t permitted to take out more than, I think, five at a time.

My fifth birthday present was a library card. I’d been getting books from the library already, of course, but my mom had to check them out for me because you had to be five to have your own library card. So bright and early on the morning I turned five, my mom took me to the library so I could get my Very Own Library Card. I’m sure I got other gifts that year, but that library card is the one I remember; it was one of the best presents I ever got.

Every year the library had a summer reading program, where you read books, filled out a little report on them, and handed them in to get stickers and prizes. Every year my little sticker row was full by mid-July.

There is no way in hell my parents could have afforded to buy me enough books to feed my habit. The library was all I had.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that I wouldn’t be a writer today if not for the library, for all libraries (because when we’d exhausted our local we’d visit some of the other libraries in the system). I would never have had access to all the wonderful books I read as a kid and a preteen and a teenager if not for the library.

And I want other kids to have that. I want them to be able to escape into books the way I did. I want them to grow up knowing that just because you don’t like one book doesn’t mean there aren’t thousands of others out there just waiting for you. I want that because I care about people reading. I want people to keep reading. I want kids to grow up reading and to love reading.

Because I love reading. I love words. I love it all. The process of writing is a sensory one, a sensual one, a journey of discovery every time. Finding new ways to play with words, to make them fit together, to use them so that when a sentence is done it says exactly what I mean it to say…that’s exciting. It’s always exciting. It’s always fun. I believe firmly, and I always have, that if you can read, and understand what you read, you can do pretty much anything; reading is the basis of intellect.

So it shocks me to find a writer–or someone who calls him- or herself a writer–who believes that literacy and books should only be accessible to those who can pay for it. There’s no sense there of the beauty and wonder of words and how they can change and touch people’s lives. This is someone who sees words not as tools for expression and the building blocks of our entire society, but as clicks in a cash register. I have a hard time believing that person truly loves writing, which makes it hard for me to believe there’s any real passion in their writing, which makes it hard, frankly, to believe they’re any damn good at it.

Libraries and piracy are totally different things. There is no similarity there. The fact that libraries buy their books–and usually buy them for more than cover price, sometimes considerably more–isn’t the issue. The issue is respect. Pirates hurt me; libraries make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

So there I go, I guess, kissing ass again.

And like any other writer with a book coming out, I’m thinking about promo. See, I want you to buy the book(s). I want you to get all of your friends to buy the book(s). I want to sell thousands and thousands and thousands of copies. I want to hit the NYT list, or the USA Today list, or the Publisher’s Weekly list, or Bookscan or whatever. Lists make writers happy, you see. And they make publishers happy, and everybody’s happy. Happiness is good.

And of course, I would hope that you guys, my lovely readers, would want to help me sell books or hit lists or whatever. Because we have something of a symbiotic relationship, you know, you and me. I write books, and you buy them, and when you buy them you encourage me to write more of them, and it’s all very cheering and makes me feel warm and happy inside to think that I’ve given you something you enjoy (I honestly love giving presents; I’m one of those weird people at holidays who gets more excited about the things I’m giving than what I might get).

But here’s the thing. While I would hope that you would want to help, I don’t expect you to. I’m surprised and thrilled and grateful whenever you do, but I don’t expect it. At all. Ever. And I certainly wouldn’t presume to INSIST you do, or berate you for not doing so. Or imply that you’re stupid for not purchasing my books in the exact fashion that I would prefer you to do so.

Sadly, it seems sometimes as if I–okay, I and several of my close friends–are alone in that feeling, that instinctive cringing when we see readers being treated like nothing more than open wallets whose sole purpose is to drive said writer to greater glory.

Do I want to hit a list? Of course, although I would never presume to think I have a real shot at it. Do I think it would be great if readers everywhere held off on buying my books until the day of release? Well, sure, I guess so, but see the aforementioned “I would never presume to think I have a shot at a list anyway so what does it matter,” answer. (Yeah, I know, that wasn’t the full answer, but it’s what I meant.)

Are there things readers can do to help a favorite author hit a list? Yeah, but not as many as you think, really. Sure, waiting until release day–or the day before, since books release on Tuesdays and sales are counted for the entire week, so buying on Monday is okay–helps. That’s a good thing to do, if you’re interested, but really that’s about it. It’s certainly all I would ever think to ask.

See…I work for YOU. I mean, yes, I work for myself, but I DO the work for you. You are my audience. You are not my slaves. You do not exist in order to feed my ego or allow me to add a shiny “List” pin to my vest. It’s not for me to tell you where you’re allowed to buy my books or in what format. I’m just amazed and grateful that you buy them at all.

I’ll be perfectly honest here. There are times when it feels as if the world of readers and the world of writers are at war. Readers want certain things; they have a right to want those things as consumers. But writers/publishers want certain things as well, and we have a right to want those things as content creators and producers. And don’t even get me started on copyright violations/piracy, and some of the justifications for those. Again, to be honest? There are times when I see discussions of it, or come across my books on filesharing sites, and have the sick, deep feeling that I should just give the hell up. I can never “win”–by which I mean earn a decent living consistently, when I’m being stolen from.

And it’s not just the financial theft, it’s the feeling that someone has literally reached into my mind and taken something from me without permission. It feels like I got drunk and told a deep secret to someone I thought was a friend, and that so-called friend turned around and told the world, and they’re all laughing at me. Or like a when a guy you really like sleeps with you and then never calls you again, you know? It makes me feel worthless, and frustrated, and lonely and sad. Sure piracy bothers me because of the money, sure, but really?

Piracy just hurts. It hurts to think someone is using you for entertainment but doesn’t think you deserve any compensation for that. It hurts to think you’re seen as less than human; as some sort of machine which exists for the gratification of others but is not permitted any gratification of its own. It hurts to feel that someone thinks they’re entitled to the fruits of your labor–the expression of the truth as you see it and the worlds and people you created and love–without paying for them. It doesn’t feel like a royalty payment was stolen from you. It feels like a tiny part of your soul was stolen from you.

That shit hurts.

And I imagine it hurts readers, too, when they’re made to feel–from being yelled at, lectured, or treated like they’re stupid–that they exist solely to provide the writer with titles and accolades. That just buying and reading and enjoying and talking about a book isn’t enough, that they now must buy it at certain times, in certain places, in certain formats, at certain phases of the moon, or whatever. Just as writers are not simply typewriters churning out words, readers are not simply notches on that big bestseller belt. They are people.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this. Just that I think it’s wrong.

Do I want to sell a lot of books? Hell, yes!

But I don’t want to just sell a lot of books. I want to entertain a lot of people. I want to give them something. That’s what this is about, not numbers or lists. It’s about books and writing and reading and the way when we read a book we love we feel connected to that book, and those characters, and that author. And when we discover another fan of those books we have a connection with that person, and books created that connection, and it wouldn’t exist without writers, readers, and publishers.

So do I want to hit a list? Of course. Have I thought of various promotional things to do, fun things, that may help facilitate that? Sure.

Do I want to hit a list at the expense of readers, by berating them or nagging them, by treating them like my minions or like they fucking owe me that goddamn list, so they better get off their fat asses and do what I say?

No.

That’s not worth it to me. I don’t want it that way. It wouldn’t mean anything that way.

I may never hit a list. But I will always be grateful that people have bought my books, and read them and loved them and took the time to tell me. Yes, this is a business, and I want to succeed in it and make money. But not at the expense of readers, and not at the expense of my own soul.

So that’s it. Just some things I’m thinking of, and will continue to think of as we get closer to the summer and the release of the Downside books (finished copyedits on CITY OF GHOSTS last week, and am quite pleased, btw).

So…thanks.

ETA: Moira Rogers, who writes awesome books, has also done a post on this topic, and I highly recommend you check it out too. My response to it? Ditto.

Today is Agent Appreciation Day, in which we writers blog and tweet about how much we love our agents, in an effort to make up for not giving them Christmas presents. (Ha, actually that isn’t true. I sent my agent a present last week, and I’m sure most of us send gifts anyway. But still.)

I talk about my agent a lot here, I know. So I actually debated whether or not I even should post anything today. But then I decided, why not. It’s fun to talk about him, and it’s fun to be involved in something like this.

My agent is Chris Lotts from Ralph Vicinanza Ltd., and we’ve been together (in the working sense, of course) for almost two years, which is kind of weird to think about. I queried Chris with UNHOLY GHOSTS on a Monday, and signed with him two days later on Wednesday, which still amazes me. To be honest, I queried him thinking I didn’t have a chance in hell of even getting a partial request, considering how highly regarded he and the agency are; the idea that he would want to work with me and my creepy little “junkies and ghosts” book seemed like a total impossibility.

But I sent the query anyway, because as I said a while ago, “either you think the book is publishable or you don’t.” I did, and I sent the query, and I have never stopped being thankful that I did. In the almost-two-years we’ve been working together he’s sold UNHOLY GHOSTS to Del Rey (US), HarperVoyager (UK), Egmont Lyx (Germany), Amber Publishing (Poland), and Blackstone Audio (audio rights US). He also handled the contracts for DEMON INSIDE and sold the third Demons book, DEMON POSSESSED, to Juno/Pocket. I think it’s safe to say he’s an awesome and very effective agent.

So, to celebrate this most important of Important Literary Holidays, here are the top five things I love about my agent, Chris Lotts:

1. He’s always there. He always takes my phone calls, on the rare occasions I do call (I prefer email). Not only does he take the calls, he’s actually happy to hear from me! He tells me he’s glad I called. He calls me, too. He emails me, and replies to my emails. I once had a problem pop up on a day he’d taken off work. He still saw my email and got involved.

2. He knows how to talk to me. Okay, this one sounds a little weird, so I better explain. It’s not that I need some sort of special white-gloves treatment or anything; if I did he probably wouldn’t be so happy when I call him. But he knows how to calm me down when something upsets me and I decide my career is over. He knows that when I send him a proposal or an idea for a new project, and he hates it (okay, I can hear him in my head right now saying, “I don’t hate it!”, so read that as “he doesn’t think it’s as marketable as some” or whatever) he can come right out and tell me; he doesn’t have to beat around the bush. He knows I can take a joke and that I’m annoyed by hesitation and wishy-washiness. And when I ask questions, even questions that feel to me like they’re probably kind of stupid questions, he answers them and tells me they’re not stupid questions.

3. He’s willing to step in and handle stuff I don’t wanna handle. He stays on top of things like payments I’m supposed to get. He offers me advice, thoughts and opinions. It’s all very professional and makes me feel well taken care of. Which is nice.

4. The agenting stuff itself. Aside from all the personality things and the warm fuzzies and whatnot, he knows how to sell my work. He knows how to get me the best deal possible. He knows what editors are looking for, and when we talk and brainstorm on the phone (yep, see, there’s that talking thing again!) he has great ideas and advice. It’s very cool. It’s nice to feel that through him I’m connected to the industry, and to learn more about it.

5. In April hubs and I went to the Mai Kai in Ft. Lauderdale (this huge, awesome Polynesian restaurant where we used to go all the time when we lived there). The Mai Kai has a gift shop, and in that gift shop I saw two little Hawaiian/Polynesian dolls; you know, the tacky plastic ones with the really big eyes, where the girl is in a grass skirt and the guy in short or something, and they’re both wearing leis? Anyway. I saw these and purely on impulse bought them for him and sent them up, hoping he would get the joke. He did. Not only did he get the joke, he told me he was putting them on his desk. Seriously, how awesome is that?

Of course there are a lot more reasons. But what it boils down to is I like the man, and I like working with him, and I think he likes working with me. I have compete trust in him, and that’s hugely important.

I know discussions pop up from time to time on the internet about the role of the agent. I know there are discussions about what the relationship should be. I know there are people who feel that the agent works for the writer, and so the process of getting a agent shouldn’t be so hard and agents “shouldn’t have so much power” and blah blah blah.

To me the writer/agent relationship is more of a partnership. When looking for a partner in anything, whether it’s business or a work project or your love life or whatever, you don’t just grab somebody and say, “You’ll do,” and get down to business. You get to know them. You talk. You see how it feels, if you click. You can’t just grab any agent and “hire” them, and if you could I don’t think that would be a good thing. Because the relationship is about so much more than “Here’s my book. Go sell it,” or “Go write this book, and by the way you’re not allowed to do X, Y, or Z.” Chris and I discuss things. We plan things. I tell him how I feel about things and he tells me what his feelings are on it, and I usually take his advice not because I feel like if I don’t he won’t like me anymore but because he’s the one with the experience.

To put it bluntly, I pay him (in commissions) to sell my work, and to give me the benefit of his expertise. Why in the world would I pay him for his advice and then refuse to take it? That’s like hiring, I don’t know, a very famous, very expensive interior decorator, then handing them the paint, wallpaper, and furniture you want him to use and telling him to get to work. You know what I mean? What’s the point in getting an expert if you’re going to ignore everything they say?

This is turning into a longish rant, and I only meant it to be short. Oops. So anyway. My agent. He’s awesome, and I appreciate him.

(For a long list of other writers participating in Agent Appreciation Day, go here.