#40
October 9, 2003
From: Kelley
I have permission to post the trade paperback cover of Solitaire.
I love the image. I think it's great for the book, and it's fascinating to put the two covers side by side and think about how they reflect different aspects of Jackal's experience.
This cover offers a peek into publishing in a couple of ways. First, it's a completely different marketing approach. This cover should attract a different browsing demographic. It's not the the old cover was bad (it was gorgeous, IMO), but that it's time now to bring a new crowd over to the table. It will be interesting to see whether the more edgy image, coupled with the New York Times blurb and Notable Book distinction, will compel "literary" readers as well as sf readers to give it a shot. I also think the fact of the trade paperback will give the book a second wave of visibility to those sf readers who don't want to risk $25 on a first novel, but are more amenable to a trade paperback with a "cyber" cover. I think it's a good strategy. We'll see how it goes.
Some people who see this cover will recognize the central image because it was previously used on the book of a more famous writer than I. So what's up with that? It's the recycling of imagery, which happens more than you might expect. It's a way to save money, and a way for good art to keep getting out in the world. Saving money isn't just good for HarperCollins, it's conceivably good for me as well—lower cost should translate to better profit, of course, and if the book can reach new readers and generate new sales with a smaller investment, everybody wins. Certainly publishers look with favor on authors whose books make money.
I talk in the Broad Universe interview about the assumption that more money thrown at a book guarantees more success. But the only thing it really guarantees is more exposure. More booksellers and reviewers will be aware of the book, but of course that doesn't mean they will choose to handsell it to their customers, feature it in store newsletters or websites, or position it at the front of the store. Nor will reviewers necessarily select the book to write about. So the throwing of money is a mixed blessing. If the investment doesn't pay off—if the book doesn't sell enough to cover those costs—then that's ultimately a losing situation for the writer. Publishing is an increasingly unforgiving business. Horror stories abound of established, critically successful midlist writers being dropped by their houses because of fiscal non-performance. This may or may not be fair, but it certainly is fact. And so it goes.
I'd love to hear what people think about the new cover. Let's chat.
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#39
September 30, 2003
From: Kelley
So here's what happens a year after the publication of a book....
There are no more print media reviews (although I give thanks on a daily basis for the internet, and bloggers, bless you all).
Most of the awards have been given out.
The trade paperback publication is still months away.
The author is up to her ears in two or three new projects, all of which are exhibiting a strange "running in place" energy. Lots of work and creativity going in, very little to show for it. I'm sure that some law of writing physics is attempting to reveal itself to me. We could call it the rising blister theory, but that would be inelegant. Let's call it critical mass of narrative. Then let's buy it a beer and try to persuade it to relax a little....
All this by way of explaining the lack of updates in the last 2½ months. It's been very easy and enjoyable to disappear into the new book and the details of the everyday. I think it's partly an effect of summer. But now that fall is rolling in, I'm preparing to be more engaged with the wider world. I love autumn—it smells and looks and feels right, a little wild, a little sad, with unexpected moments that feel like some internal space has just opened wide.
In that spirit, I have some things to share.
I've been noodling with a "links" page on this site, but I find that deciding what to include on such a page is a bit like choosing a tattoo. So instead, every so often I will stop in to the virtual pub and post things that been meaningful or interesting to me. Here are a few:
Open Letters. This site is no longer active, but is available in a complete archive state. There's some great storytelling here. People are amazing. I miss the hell out of Open Letters.
@U2. The best U2 website on the planet, in my opinion.
Arizona Raft Adventures. I took this trip nearly 20 years ago and my heart has been full of canyon since. Along the trip, the guide stopped the boat by a wall that went up and up. "Touch it," he said, and when we did he told us the rock was nearly 2 billion years old. The Grand Canyon is the closest thing I know to a cathedral.
An amazing poem by Wendell Berry. An acting teacher gave me this when I was at college a thousand years ago. Along with getting genuinely excited over a monologue I did one day, it's the nicest thing she did for me. She also taught an improvisation class one summer that gave me one of the cruel moments of my life, and would be another Open Letter, if.... This poem is reprinted by permission of the publisher.
A website chock full of computer wallpaper. Amazing photos and graphic images of all descriptions. My mom, the Master of Web, turned me on to this site.
DATA. If you have email and a phone, you can help persuade the US government to keep its promise to help African nations work against poverty and AIDS. Make a difference in the world.
MoveOn. You can have more than just a vote, you can have a voice. This is the best organized, most effective grassroots organization I have ever seen.
From time to time, I will also pass along articles about publishing. It's a wacky business; the more I learn, the more I shake my head. I think there are some changes coming, although I'm not sure what they are. It seems to me to be more and more difficult for a writer to a) break in to the business, and b) maintain a career. Having accomplished (a), I find myself concerned about (b). Reading articles like the ones below helps me understand how fortunate my experience with Solitaire has been in many ways (especially given the poor reviews in the trade—Publishers Weekly and Kirkus hated the book), and also how much more fortunate I will need to be with future books.
"It takes more than talent to become a best-selling novelist. Timing, marketing, and luck are also key..." from the Boston Globe.
"Of the 60,000-some books that land in his office yearly, Steve Wasserman, editor of the Los Angeles Times Book Review, has room to cover only about 1,500..." from Poets & Writers Magazine
And other news: Stephen King is getting a National Book Award for Lifetime Achievement. Big smile from this side of the room. I'm delighted for him, and also delighted that the National Book Award had the guts to acknowledge that storytelling and characters who talk like real people, as opposed to speaking in ongoing tangles of metaphor and endless irony, have a huge place in the general reading experience.
I am pretty tired of what passes for literary fiction in some circles these days. I prefer good writing to bad, but beautiful prose is not an end in itself. At least, I don't think it should be. Nicola says that if you can see how much work the writer has done, then the writer hasn't done enough work.
I've been following the commentary on the New York Times website regarding the award for Stephen King (you have to register with the website to access the discussion, but there's no charge). It started out with (predictably) a lot of people being very fussed. Then there was a round of supportive posts from people who decided to come out of the closet as those who like a good read, and the literary canon be damned. For a while, the discussion flows along the lines of "oh no" versus "you go, Stephen." Then it moves into consideration of what makes a work literary, which to me is a much more interesting and slippery question. I'd be interested to hear what people think--what's "literature," anyway? Any takers? Reply using the form above, or send an email to virtualpint@kelleyeskridge.com.
Cheers to you all.
