Stacia Kane

Yes, I know. You’re all waiting with bated breath, right? Ha.

Okay. First, yes, I am messing about with the template. I attempted to download the new CSS template I’m using for my shiny! new! website!, but Blogger kept insisting something was wrong with that code. Nothing was wrong with the code; I’ve run it through three different programs to make sure. The problem, I guess, is that it’s a webpage code and not a blogpage code. I dunno. Anyway, it blows, because I love my shiny! new! website! template. (Above is a sneak preview of the header.)

Anyway. Feedback is appreciated. I can already see the sidebar fonts are too light; I will fix them over the weekend.

Second.

I hope the person in question doesn’t mind me posting this, but a friend said something to me earlier–and I said something in return–that I felt the need to repeat here publicly.

In a nutshell, my friend is getting ready to begin the query process. I sent her a list of names of fantasy agents I esteem–Jim McCarthy, Rachel Vater, Miriam Kriss, Kim Whalen at Trident, Katie Menick at Howard Morhaim, to name a few–to add to her list.

Of course, at the top of the list I put my own agent.

My friend thanked me for the suggestions but mentioned she probably wouldn’t query my agent because she didn’t think she had a chance at interesting an agent with such a prestigious agency (Look, this is what SHE said, okay. I’m not trying to brag or anything here, I’m really not, so I hope I don’t sound like one of these people who’s constantly running around talking about their agent and how their agent is the greatest agent who ever lived and how other writers would kill, yes, kill, to be repped by my agent because my agent gets a billion queries a minute and is clearly The Most Important Person In Publishing and the business would stop dead if this person were ever to leave it because they are so, so, so important and amazing and thus by extension so am I. So please don’t think I’m doing that.)(Although I do obviously think my agent is pretty fucking cool.)

Anyway.

She told me she didn’t have a chance with him, because she didn’t have any prior publication credits and she’s not writing in a “hot” subgenre, and this is what I said in return:

Don’t be ridiculous. Prior credits have nothing to do with it and you should know that. Chris signed {another cool writer} and I don’t think {writer} has any prior credits. I know my prior credits didn’t matter one bit to him.

Query him. Query him, unless you just don’t think you’re good enough to get a really good agent; in which case, why query anybody at all? Believe me, if I’m good enough for him–me, of all people–so is anybody else.

What’s the worst that can happen? You’ll waste under a minute cutting and pasting a query letter? You’ll get a polite rejection? Oooh, scary. :rolleyes

Yes, I’m being deliberately harsh here in an attempt to show you that you’re being silly. Query EVERYONE who can give you proper representation. EVERYONE. So they say no, so what? Chris isn’t some sort of beast; he’s not going to come to your house and throw poop at you if your query isn’t for him, or send out an email to every other agent in NY making fun of you for having the effrontery to think *he* might be interested in your work.

Either you believe you’re publishable or you don’t. (Yes, I use boldface a lot; so? You got a problem with that?) And if you do, you query everyone. Period.

Hugs, dear. I’m trusting that you know I’m really not trying to be a bitch here; I just don’t want you to limit yourself like that. Where would I be right now if I hadn’t decided to go ahead and query him? Maybe I’d be repped by somebody else, sure; I had five or six other fulls out when he offered. But you know, maybe not. Who knows?

Just send the fucking query. At worst you’ll get a form rejection. At best you’ll get a great agent.

And that goes for you too, readers. Don’t give me that shit about how The Big Guys aren’t going to be interested in you. Either you’re ready or you’re not. Either you think your work is publishable or you don’t. Why limit yourself at the query stage? If they say no, they say no; big damn deal. What if Bigtime Agent is the one, and you never find out because you’re too chicken?

There are LOTS of great agents out there. Try them all.

Thus ends your new year inspiration for the day.

I was going to do another post about the RWA today, specifically focusing on their stated purpose, which is “…[to] support the professional interests of its more than 10,000 members…” and “…to help its members pursue a career in romance fiction…” (which is a bunch of bullshit, is it not? Since they have no interest in helping ALL of their members pursue a career in romance fiction, only those who write romance without that dirty sex stuff in it) and on their Code of Ethics, which, in light of the new RITA rule, is a total and complete joke.

Check this out (it’s the middle “principle” of ethical conduct an RWA member should exhibit):

“RWA members strive to treat fellow members, RWA staff, and others with respect.”

There’s also one about adhering to RWA’s bylaws, to which I no longer have access since I decided last year to stop throwing my money away by giving it to them as “membership dues”. Last time I read the bylaws they didn’t allow discrimination, but my memory could be faulty. Either way, I hardly see telling writers who qualify for PAN that despite qualifying (by earning over the minimum “professional” amount–in other words, RWA considers PAN members to be professionals and thinks they should be treated as such), they’re still not allowed to enter the RITA, respectful. Or honest. I certainly don’t think the rule belongs on the same website as the words “integrity” or “honesty”.

Oh, members are also not permitted to engage in “conduct injurious to RWA and its stated goals”–that of helping members pursue careers etc. etc. Seems to me that the new RITA rule is awfully fucking injurious to a lot of writers’ career goals, and that that might be something a group of those of you who retained your membership in order to “change from within” might be interested in looking into–why not get that change started now? Why not DO SOMETHING from within the organization?

There are disciplinary actions in place, you know, designed to deal with violations of the Code of Ethics.

I’m just thinking out loud here.

See, here’s the thing. I know I’m actually blogging about the RWA when I said I wasn’t going to. But there’s something I realized a while ago, and it’s something I think is worth sharing with everyone else.

The RWA is a writer’s organization–at least, it’s supposed to be. Membership is not obligatory for success. It’s a nonissue. The RWA board is made up of writers. Not agents. Not editors. Not anyone who makes any decisions as far as your career is concerned.

You do not have to be an RWA member to get an agent. You do not have to be an RWA member to get published. You do not have to be an RWA member to have a long and successful career.

The RWA is a straw man. So many writers are, I think, a little afraid of speaking out against the RWA. And I understand it, I do. We all hear so often that editors and agents are reading blogs and paying attention to our conduct, and that if they get the slightest whiff of us behaving unprofessionally we’ll be blackballed. No more contracts for us! We’re done.

But it’s not true. Not at all. The RWA has NO power other than what writers give it. None. And while I’m sure most agents and editors are happy to attend RWA events and genuinely enjoy them, I really don’t think they’re going to leap to defend the organization as a whole and decide writers who speak out against the disrimination in the organization–discrimination against paying members who have done nothing wrong except write the word “cock” a few too many times in their books–are Bad Eggs, unprofessional attitude problems they don’t want to deal with. In fact, I imagine it would be extremely difficult to find an agent or editor who actively CARES what anyone says about the RWA; and I bet you’ll find one or two agents out there who represent writers who are also epublished, who are just as angry about this on behalf of their clients as I am on behalf of friends of mine who are hurt by this.

The RWA is NOT the publishing industry. They’re not. They’re just a group of writers. In the past they have gotten together AS WRITERS and done some good things–forcing Harlequin to give up rights to pen names, for example. But they didn’t do that as Publishing Movers & Shakers. They did it as writers. Because that’s all they are.

They don’t make decisions about your career. The board members don’t spend their days on the phone with agents and editors discussing in what direction the industry should go. CEOs of publishing houses do not have them on speed-dial to ask them for advice.

In other words, speaking out against their shameful discriminatory policies is not going to get you blackballed from publishing. It just isn’t.

The only reason they have ANY power, any at all, is because their members give it to them. And by saying that I don’t mean the RWA is like Freddy Krueger, gaining power from fear and becoming stronger and stronger with every scream (well, okay, maybe I do mean that a little.) But what I really mean is, they are powerful because you give them power in numbers. If the RWA was comprised of fifty people nobody would give a shit what they did (well, a lot of people still don’t give a shit what they do, but you know what I mean). But because they’re so large, they have power. Because they tell people they’re there to help and advocate etc. etc., and people believe it, that gives them power. Because they have somehow managed to spread the propoganda that belonging to the RWA is an important part of having a professional career in romance writing, a lot of people join believing it–and stay even when they’re not sure what they’re getting out of it.

But their scope is so limited. The RWA has power over the RWA’s members, and that’s it. Not over any individual, not over the industry as a whole. They just don’t.

So don’t be afraid to speak out and insist that the RWA–which is your organization, and you should have a voice in it–account for itself. Insist they live up to that Code of Ethics. Insist they start treating their members equally according to their own rules (PAN members are RITA-eligible if they released a book in the last year, period.) Insist that they represent ALL their members, not just the ones of whose books they approve.

You do not answer to the RWA. They answer to you. Without you they’re nothing. Make sure they know it.

In a funny coincidence, on Monday or Tuesday evening I received an Author Questionnaire in my email, from the wonderful folks at Del Rey. And, well, wow.

They are THOROUGH. There’s a lot of stuff on there. While I don’t actually have answers for some of it–since nobody wants to give me awards and I never went to college, and am a big old loser who doesn’t belong to any professional associations or anything, which is actually quite depressing–it’s a clear sign that there is a nice, big publicity dept. at Del Rey, and they’re waiting to do whatever they can to promote me and my book.

You’re not going to get that from a self-publisher. Not at all. Not one bit. You’ll be on your own, floundering around in a very confusing world.

See, the thing is, the writing world is all about competition. Not directly–well, sort of, but I’m getting there in a minute–because all books are different. But yes, directly, because there has to be a reason for a reader to pick up your book instead of someone else’s.

A professionally published book has a lot of competition. And while a publisher can and will do whatever they can to sell your book (remember, we talked about that “Publishers don’t do any promo” myth a week or two ago), they can’t make anyone read it. All they can do is get it into stores, send it to review publications and websites, and set up whatever signings or tours or events or whatever they can. They can get the word out, and put the book in front of readers who may be interested in it. Promoting Unholy Ghosts to, for example, elderly ladies who spend their time playing tennis and gardening is probably not the best use of promotional dollars; those ladies are not likely to be interested in a book about drugs, ghosts, and ghettos.

And my publisher knows that, which is why they will probably not be advertising the book in the AARP newsletter (I mean no disrespect here, of course, to AARP members or kick-ass grandmas who love urban fantasy; I’m sure there are some out there. I’m just saying the market is very small.)

But for that market, my book is in direct competition with books those ladies would like better. Danielle Steele or Maeve Binchy novels, for example (and I loves me some Maeve, foreals). Books about how to perfect your backswing by repotting ivy. Women’s fiction with older female characters. Family sagas. Reams of non-fiction and memoirs. All of that stuff is likely to attract those grandmas before they start looking for books about junkie witches set in punk-rock ghettos. So if we decided to go for that audience, we’d have a hard slog convincing them to give me a go, with all that other stuff out there attracting their attention.

Worse than that, all the other stuff out there is right under their noses, at the bookstore or the grocery store or Wal-Mart or Sam’s Club or wherever they buy their books. In bookstores I’m on an equal footing with them, because my book is there too. But if they buy their books exclusively at Publix? There’s a good chance I won’t be there.

And therein lies the main problem with self-publishing fiction. You cannot get into bookstores. When the rep from my publisher and/or the rep from the distributer talks to the bookstore, they talk about my book, because that’s what they’re paid to do. When you’re self-published, you’re not even going to get a meeting. You might–might–be able to get into your local bookstore, if you talk to the manager. But nationwide? Forget it. There’s a very, very slim chance it will happen, but it probably won’t.

Why?

Because readers aren’t stupid.

This is not a reflection on you or your ability, it really isn’t. You may be a wonderful writer who simply has no interest in “going corporate”. As I said on onday, it’s a feeling I sympathize with and understand.

But readers don’t. Readers, real readers, know about books. They know what good writing is. They know who their favorite authors are, and they can probably name at least two or three of the big publishers, if not more. They know when they’re looking at a book not published with one of those houses. They know, when they open the book, if it’s badly written. Quite frankly, if they don’t know that? They’re probably not big readers to begin with, and so are even less likely to be looking for something new to read, and grabbing your book or ordering it online. (I see countless self-published or vanity-published writers out there who admit they don’t read and/or don’t like to read; yet they expect people to buy and read their books. Why? I don’t like playing video games, so I wouldn’t expect anyone to enjoy playing a game I came up with. If I don’t like to do it, why do I think other people would waste their time with me?)

I know you’re thinking, “But they don’t have to be real readers. I want the people who only buy a couple of books a year! That’s all I need.” To which I say, with some sadness, “Good luck.” Because those people? Are even less likely to be trolling the internet looking for new novels. They’re less likely to buy a novel by someone whose name they don’t recognize. We’re talking about people who buy ten copies of the latest NY bestseller to give as Christmas gifts, and never walk into a bookstore the rest of the year.

Nor do most review sites want to review self-published books, for the very reason of their not having been through a “vetting” process. Good as yours might be, you have to bear the weight of all those terrible ones out there; yours will be lumped in with them. Not to mention that, while we do have issues on occasion with professionally-published writers who throw internet tantrums over poor or lukewarm or simply not stellar reviews, the incidence appeares to be much higher with self-published books; these are people who don’t understand that reviews are written for readers, not as cheap or free promo for authors.

The simple fact is, in self-publishing fiction you are competing against every other novel out there. Novels published by companies the public trusts. Novels in bookstores. Novels with reviews in magazines and on websites. Novels in other stores. Novels their friends and family are talking about. Novels that people have turned into TV shows or films. It’s a tough world even for writers published by the major houses; imagine if you didn’t have any of that backing at all.

As a self publisher you’re not just a writer. You have dozens of jobs, including sales. As a professionally-published writer, you have one. Writing. Yes, it takes a lot of hard work and time to get there. But it’s so worth it. And really, if you’re self-publishing because you don’t want to do the work and/or the wait to get a NY contract, do you really think you’ll have the time, patience, and persistence you need to do all those extra jobs too?

Anyway. In other news. As I mentioned early at the League, I have started a new Yahoo group. My old group was shamefully dead; I never did much with it at all. It was also a December group, whereas the new one is for Stacia’s UF. So. Head on over to the new Stacia Kane Newsgroup and sign up. I really am going to do stuff with it, I promise. Excerpts, teasers, actual news–I even plan to do a semi-quarterly newsletter–all those good things. So I hope to see you there. Especially as there should be some interesting news soon, and it will go there first.