I used to always write long emails. I wanted to communicate carefully. I wanted to be clear. I wanted no misunderstandings to come back and bite me.

Now? Not only do I hate writing them, but I can’t bear to even look at ones that other people have written. I know it may have taken them five hours to write that long email that I can read in five minutes. I know they felt it was important or they wouldn’t have written it. But still, I can’t bear the thought of reading for five minutes at a time, it seems.

There are a couple of things that need to be said about that.

• One is that I need to train myself to slow down and concentrate on long emails people send me.

I can take ten minutes to read a 1,000-word email. It’s not going to kill me. Four pages. Four measly pages. When did my attention span get so bad?

This is the truth: the Internet has injured my ability to concentrate. Whereas I used to love reading long articles—five or six densely packed magazine pages were wonderful, and I hated when the text was interrupted with sidebars—I now can barely get through one page in a magazine. I now crave call-outs and sidebars and graphics. And even better? Video.

My inability to read long emails is something I need to work on. It is not a good thing—this feeling like I’m too busy to pay attention. This business of not being present in the moment. This constant pull to be doing the next thing instead of the thing in front of me.

• The second thing I have to say about long emails is that people shouldn’t write them anymore.

I do still write long emails sometimes, but now I write them not because I’m spending hours carefully communicating. Now I write them because I don’t have time to edit myself. I just kind throw up on the screen and hit “send” without even reading over what I said to see if any words or letters are missing. Without caring that my fingers often type her when my brain says he or you when my brain says your. 

But really? No one should write long emails anymore. We are speaking to a world that lives on soundbites and video clips and the wisdom found on bumper stickers. If we want to be heard, we need to be concise.

So if we must write long emails we should use subheads and bullet points and bold text, I think. To help those who read the emails to see the pertinent parts.

• But the last thing I want to say about long emails is that some long emails still draw me in.

In the end, you can write on and on and on, if what you’re saying is interesting. There is a guy who sends out a daily marketing email that I really enjoy. It’s probably not for everyone, but what he writes always interests me. For one thing, his topic interests me. But what makes me look forward to his emails each day is his voice, and that’s surprising because we don’t have a lot in common. He’s younger than I am. He’s Australian. He’s not in my political or spiritual camp, I’m fairly certain. And yet I like to read his emails.

He sends out these rather long-ish emails seven days a week and I remember thinking he was crazy when he first mentioned (in a Facebook post) that he was going to do this. I not only thought he was crazy because of the time he’d need to write all those daily emails. I also thought, “That’s crazy. It’s too much. People don’t have time to read that much.”

But here he comes into my inbox every day with these conversational emails, with stories that share interesting bits of his life and that illustrate some point he’s making, and I find myself reading them all the way through without getting bored or distracted.

So that bit I said about how we ought not write long emails because no one has time to read long emails? Maybe that’s just not true. Maybe we will all find time to concentrate and read if a thing interests us.

So take this into consideration when you query me, I guess. Shorter is better than longer, but interesting trumps it all. Heck! Take that into consideration when you’re writing anything. Blog posts. Books. Facebook status updates. Shorter is better than longer, but interesting trumps it all.

So up there is the screenshot of my Gmail inbox. Looks good, eh?

As long as we don’t click on any of thsoe pesky folders in the sidebar, all will be fine.

How is it possible to have 644 emails in a folder that is for mail that should be answered within 24 hours? These are people who need answers. But it all takes so much time.

I’m kicking myself for not keeping up with the email. Where did I go wrong? How did I get so messed up?

As I pondered this pathetic situation last week, I realized that my email has never been right since I read up on a new system for handling email. It was to be my salvation. I needed only to delete folders, the email guru told me.

I had so many folders. I had mail filtering into so many nooks and crannies, and once tucked away, it was easy for me to ignore it. So I decided to delete some folders. I was going to work with three folders: My inbox where mail would be opened and answered if I could answer in under two minutes; a folder that said “today,” which would be for mail that took me longer than two minutes to answer; and a folder that said “wait” for mail that could wait a few days. All things would be answered within one week and then archived.

Brilliant!

But when I deleted a couple of folders, the mail from those folders, instead of coming into my inbox, was shuffled straight to the archive. Then, I had to search for it in “All Mail” which was worse than the original folders! I tried to get the folders back—and the mail—but I couldn’t. And that’s when I really started hating Gmail. Things weren’t right. My Gmail was broken. I went into a state of denial and began avoiding my inbox as much as possible.

Last week, I had to have a “Come to Jesus” moment. Had to repent of my inbox avoidance and cry out for mercy. There were over 2000 emails sitting there demanding that I have an intervention for myself.

So I went through and deleted what I could. And that is when I discovered that there were over 650 people waiting for me to answer them. (And that didn’t include my queries, which were in a different Gmail account altogether!)

Instead of jumping right in and answering, I moved from denial to blame shifting. I reasoned that it was all Gmail’s fault, and I spent several hours trying to configure Outlook, in a vain attempt to divorce Gmail over incompatible differences.

After many hours of begging Outlook to date me and my domain email, I realized that divorcing one email program for another was folly. I’d end up with the same broken relationship because I’d be taking myself into the shiny, new Outlook program.

And that is when I hit on a brilliant idea. I didn’t need a new email program. I needed an incentive to answer my emails. I needed hope. I needed to visualize the reward of being an inbox-clutter-free person.

So I hung a new, clean inbox in front of myself, much like dieters will hang skinny pictures on their refrigerators.

I made a brand new Gmail account. Here it is:   
Isn’t that gorgeous? I made my own background. Put the clock in there and the phrase “Coram Deo” to remind myself that I live every minute before the face of God and my time is not to be spent in denial, but rather in doing the work he gives me to do each day.

And look at how pristine it is! No emails. None. Nada. Zip. I love it so much I can hardly stand it.

I spent the weekend digging into those emails in the old, ugly inboxes–over 750 of them, when you count the queries—and after answering a few, I’d see that I still had over 740 and I flick open the new Gmail account and think about how pretty it is and how satisfying it will be to have no emails hanging over my head.

I’m at 697 today—woo hoo!—and pushing on. (Unfortunately, people do insist on writing each day so I get rid of 20 and 30 more come in, but I’m deleting like a demon!) I would love to be at “inbox zero” by the end of this week. Maybe I won’t make it, even though I’m working on it full time. But for sure this month.

For sure and certain this month.

Absolutely this month.

Prayers appreciated.

I want to share some sites I like, that I don’t hear a lot about. If you blog, or post to Facebook or Twitter, some of these sites I post about here may help you out.

Today I want to tell you about the LunaPic editor, which allows you to do all kinds of neat edits. It’s free and it’s easy to use.

I made this animated gif above, at LunaPic. I wanted to find a quick way to make my own gifs and post them on Facebook. I think it would be a good idea to make up a batch of them at one time and then post them during the month. You can add nifty quotes.

If you put your website address somewhere on the picture, it might draw visitors. You never know.

So here’s a short video showing how I did this gif above and posted to Facebook. Follow along, pause it and do each step, and you can have an animated gif to share in under five minutes.

Igiugig, Alaska (Pronounced Ig-ee–og’–ik) It’s a smattering of buildings and an airstrip, where the Kvichak River (Quee’jack River) comes out of Lake Illiamna. It can be reached by plane, boat, snow machine, or dog sled, depending on the time of year.

~~~

My husband was born in a small village in Alaska–population 38.

Annette Wilson Caruso, my gorgeous niece, and Stephanita Apokedak, my somewhat intimidating mother-in-law.

No lie: his mother squatted at the side of her bed and pushed out six of her nine children. The last three were born in Naknek after they got a hospital. Here she is—four-foot-ten and with the strength of an Amazon—with one of her many beautiful granddaughters.

When my husband was 12, his family moved to a bigger village so the kids could go to school. The new village had a population of 98.

The people who lived in these small villages were used to seeing the same people every day. Hearing the same stories. Playing the same games. They had a shared history.

And my husband—who was a big reader, a smart guy, and was able to communicate with anyone—was most comfortable with people from his village. They understood each other in the way that sisters and brothers understand each other. It was that shared history.

My husband and I learned to understand each other–we spent time together and pretty soon we had a shared history. But I struggled some when communicating with his parents.

The village life fascinated me as did the way their language grew. There were so many things they didn’t have Yup’ik words for because they hadn’t needed words for those things. There is no need of a word for carpool or hotel or telephone when you’re in a small village. They suddenly needed new words, as outsiders came in, bringing TVs and boats with motors, and setting up hospitals and schools and court systems. But instead of making up new words, they just used the words they had to describe new things.

So, here’s a for instance: The word “incompetent” in Yup’ik is “elluarrluten taringeluaqerciigalavet,” which is literally translated, “because you are unable to really understand.”

You see? “Hospital” is also a massive word and when I asked my husband why it was so big, he told me they were saying “the big building where you go when you’re sick and you need to see a doctor.”

It’s not a perfect way to do things. With all those really long words, communication can become a bit burdensome.

But I wonder if we might be wise to think about this as we write. Our language is changing, in part because our world is changing so fast. Much like it changed fast for the Alaskan Natives when the US bought Alaska from Russia.

So I’m kind of like those old Natives, asking my children to interpret for me when I run into new words. And at the same time, I struggle with trying to communicate what I know to them. So many children today don’t know words and phrases that have meaning to me.

And even more concerning to me is this: my world view of completely foreign to them. We live in the same country and yet we don’t have a shared history. Our country used to be a melting pot of people who all wanted freedom. That was one thing we had in common. Now it’s a melting pot of people who all seem to have different agendas and common ground is getting harder and harder to find.

So what about when you write? Are you speaking to people with whom you share a history? People who grew up in your place and in your time? Are your readers understanding your words the way you’re meaning them?

Steve Laube had a great post recently that highlighted some of the changes to our world. Reaching a New Generation of Readers is a great read. Well worth your time.

And this is especially important for children’s writers. Children that were born in 2005 have a far different way of viewing the world than those of us who were born in the 50s and 60, or even the 70s and 80s. And if you are writing middle-grade books, you are writing for kids who were born somewhere around 2005. Barak Obama has been president for as long as they can remember. Think about how many things have changed since he took office. Now think about how many things have changed since you were 10 years old.

When we don’t have a shared history with our readers, we have to work much harder at communication. We can’t use shortcuts. We have to take time to explain things.

How do you stay connected to your readers? How do you educate yourself so you understand what they know and what kind of world view they have?

The world of online courses has exploded.

LinkedIn bought Lynda a while back and today I read that Microsoft bought LinkedIn. So how is Lynda going to change, I wonder.

Google owns YouTube so that’s a good marketing channel since Google will return YouTube videos in their search results. It makes sense, then, that we’re seeing more and more small introductory “how to” courses on YouTube.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that Amazon had set up shop, offering to pay videographers and online instructors according to how many minutes their viewers consume. Skillshare also pays that way.

All of this interests me since I have courses on Udemy and Skillshare and Teachable.

But what does this mean to you, the writer? it means you can find affordable courses all over the place. I’ll list options and prices here. First my disclaimer: I have not taken all these and I don’t know how good they are. Some of them are my classes, so I think they are good, and on some of my classes I’m using an affiliate link. So, now, here’s the list:

Start Writing Fiction Now

Free

12-hour course taken from The Fiction Writer’s Workshop by Josip Novakovich (1995). This comes with a free ebook download.

Udemy Online Writing Courses

$20.00 to $50.00 for lifetime access

Various instructors with various levels of interaction.

30-day money back guarantee.

Holly Lyle’s Writing Workshops

$17.00 to $77.00 for yearly memberships

Various classes. You get worksheets and access to a private forum.

Somewhat limited guarantee.

WOW (Women on Writing)

various prices/various times

Lots of courses here offered by different teachers. Starting at different times. These are classes with start and stop dates, mostly.

No guarantees, but sometimes you can get a credit for future classes

James Patterson’s Master Class

$90.00 for lifetime access

There’s no guarantee that he’ll read your work, but there’s a chance he will. And come on . .  . 90 bucks? Not a big layout for lessons from James Patterson. (I must add that one of my Udemy students said my course was better, but, you know…she might have just been shining up to the teacher. )

30-day, money back guarantee.

Gotham Online Writing Courses

$399.00 to $425.00 for ten weeks

Various instructors. Reasonably priced. These courses offer more interaction with the instructor and usually go for under 45 dollars a week.

No refunds after courses start.

Writer’s Digest University

$199.99 to $629.99 for limited-time access

These courses run from 4 weeks to 12 weeks and are taught by various teachers.

No refunds after courses start.

The Writer’s Workshop

$500.00 for six-month access

Various classes taught by various instructors.

$400.00 refundable in the first week.

And last, but definitely not least . . .    . . . here are my favorite online writing courses. Three different versions of my course on narrative voice so you can choose the one that best suits your needs:

Writing Novels That Sing at Udemy

$20.00 for lifetime access (click here to check for discounts)

I’m the instructor and I try to interact with students as much as possible. This comes with access to a private Facebook group where I hold office hours once a month.

30-day money back guarantee.

Narrative Voice for Novelists at Fiction Academy

$169.00 for lifetime access (click here to check for discounts)

This is the same course as the Writing Novels That Sing course at Udemy, but it’s hosted at my own Fiction Academy. I’m the instructor and I offer a critique of your first chapter with this course, as well as lifetime access to the course and to a private forum where I answer questions and interact with students.

30-day money back guarantee.

Writing Novels that Sing on Skillshare

$.99 (yep, 99 cents) for three months

This is hosted at Skillshare and they are doing a membership drive now, hence the three-month introductory offer. This course has all the same videos as the course on Udemy and at Fiction Academy, but it comes with minimal instructor support.

Do you really need that 99 cents back?

~~~

Well, that should be enough of a topic and price range to get us started. Please feel free to link to courses you’ve taken in the “comments” section. I’d love to grow this list.

Ereh’s a yppah )ton( tsop rof uoy no Lirpa Loof’s Yad. Ti’s ton a ekoj, yletanutrofnu. Tub ti tlef thgir ot tsop ti yadot. Ylno 04 Fles-dehsilbup srohtua era a sseccus, syas Nozama Gnikam yenom gnitirw si hguot. Semitemos ti sleef ekil eht elohw dlrow si sdrawkcab dna edispu nwod. Kcits htiw

No related posts.

I taught a three-hour intensive on narrative voice at my regional SCBWI conference a couple of weeks ago. Had a great time. Spring Mingle is always good, and, as usual, there was a lot of fun mixed in with the work. But between that conference and my Udemy course, I’ve been focused

Related posts:

1. Voice ~ Make Me Feel the Fictive Dream
2. Parallel Construction
3. Was That Passive Voice?

I am sure you all get tired of agents ranting about how busy they are. Agents, after all, are not busier than other people. All of our technology, which makes things faster and easier in some ways, has also made life more complicated in many ways. We’re all overloaded. I

Related posts:

1. Merry Christmas
2. Query Letters that Come With Apologies
3. I’m Open to Submissions

I’m getting a bunch of good questions from a Facebook page I recently put up for my Udemy students. So, YAY! This is going to help me get some blogging done, I think.

Recently, I was asked how to tell the difference between head hopping and omniscient narrators.

I LOVE this question. All writers who are working with third-person narrators need to deal with this question.

There are two kinds of third person narrators: Omniscient and limited.

An omniscient narrator can see all things in the story. He’s like God. He can see all things that are happening in all places and he can see what happens in the future as well as what is happening in the present and what happened in the past. He can also zoom right into the hearts and minds of all the characters and see what they are thinking.

A limited narrator, on the other hand, can only see through the eyes of the character who is narrating that particular scene. So if, in scene one, Jeff is narrating, he can only tell what he sees happening in the present and what he knows happened in the past. He can’t tell you what will happen in the future (you cannot write, “Little did he know that by Tuesday he’d be wishing he had not made that silly promise), nor can he tell you what’s happening in California if he’s in China.

It is OK to have more than one limited narrator in a book. So you may have Jeff narrating one scene from China and you may have Annie, back in California, narrating the next scene.

Do Omniscient Narrator’s Head Hop?

An omniscient narrator is a person with a life and a worldview and a personality. He has his own things that he loves and also things that he hates. He has strengths and weaknesses. He’s just like any other man. 

And, yes, I’m talking about an off-site narrator who may never be introduced to the readers. You need to know whether she’s a Catholic or a Muslim. You need to know whether he prefers cooking or gardening.

Why? Because when you know who your omniscient narrator is, you will never leave  his pov and hop between the heads of other characters. If you know your omniscient narrator intimately, you will be able to stay consistently in your narrator’s head.

Related posts:

1. Point of View
2. The Red-Shirt Writer
3. Close Third Person POV

I’m glad someone does! Did you know our puppy weighs over 70 pounds now?

I like your sense of humor. And I like your taste in dogs. And I love the title THE MISSIONARY DATE EXTRAVAGANZA.

Yes, good writing is important. Very much so.

That’s one of the things I’ve seen stressed over and over, as I’ve studied this content marketing deal: You give away your best stuff. You don’t give away the bloopers. Because it has to be good stuff so others will follow you. So when you guest blog, you write your best stuff. When you put up a novella, you write the best you can.

What do you give away? Is it fiction or nonfiction?

I think this is a wonderful thing. I know I use this already with my kidlit marketing.

I recently read an interview with Seth Godin, that made me think about the way we market. I put a couple of courses up on Udemy this year, and I have authors who have published books and who have more books on the way, so I’ve been studying marketing.

I used to think that marketing had to be about me, me, me. I wanted no part of it. I didn’t want to toot my own horn. I didn’t want to push people to spend money on junk they didn’t want.

But the Internet has changed the way we market, I think, and I like the new way better. The new way to market is called “content marketing” and it’s taken me a while to shift my thinking and embrace it. But I like it. I like it a lot.

What is content marketing?

Content marketing is writing or videotaping or podcasting and giving the content away for free. The idea is that you collect a tribe full of people who will follow you and who will pay you for content that you offer for a price because they’ve loved the content you’ve given for free.

Content marketing, when you’re starting out, probably ought to be centered on you giving away content that is similar to the content you sell. So if you are selling writing courses, as I am selling on Udemy, you would give away lots of “how to write” articles and podcasts and videos.

It makes sense, right? People come to your blog and they read your articles and if you’re giving them a product that is helpful, they keep coming back. And then one day you tell them about the product you have for sale and they jump on it. People buy Seth Godin’s books, for example, even though there’s a lot of free product on his site.

It’s not even about paying back. I mean, I’ll often donate money to shareware products I’ve tried and loved. I do that because I feel the creators deserve to be paid for the product they’ve let me try for free. But people don’t buy Seth’s books to pay him back for the free articles they’ve read. They buy his books because they like to listen to him talk. They like what he has to say and they like the way he says it.

So that is content marketing at the base level. You put out the content you want to put out and the people who want what you’re offering gather around you. And when you sell a product, they buy it because they like what you have to offer.

I want to talk a little more about content marketing in the coming weeks. But this is getting long so I’ll stop here for now and leave you with a two quotes from the interview with Seth.

__________

Only in the last 20 years have we seen marketing change from spending money to interrupt people with advertising to market everything you make and everything you say.

***

. . . in a retail environment engagement matters more than giving people a coupon.

___________

What do you think of these things that Seth is saying? Are you more apt to buy from someone who listens to you and speaks to you or from someone who gives you a 50% off coupon? And my biggest question of all is about content marketing and the fiction writer: How does content marketing apply to novelists? Is this where giving away the Kindle version of the first book in the trilogy come into play? Is there another way for fiction writers to do content marketing?

~~~~

While we're on the topic of content marketing, I would be remiss if I 
didn't tell you about Jesse Kirkland's Instagram offer. Everything I'm 
hearing tells me that Instagram is the place to be right now, if you 
have something to sell.

I know. I know. It makes me want to scream, too. Facebook was hot, and 
now that I've learned it (kind of) it's no longer worth anything. It 
costs a lot and all my friends are telling me they are getting no ROI 
on Facebook ads.

But by the time we learn Instargram, everyone will have moved on. So . . .  
if you have the money, you may want to fast track your Instagram learning. 
Let Jesse set you up and coach you. Yes, this is an affiliate link. But 
if any of you readers purchase this from Jesse this year (2015), and put 
the code "small" into the coupon box for the small package or "large" for 
the large package, I won't take any money for the sale. You can have my 
share. I'd like to help you out and I'd like to help Jesse out and I don't 
want to profit from matchmaking you.

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1. The Farmer and the Writer
2. Writer Website
3. The Red-Shirt Writer

If you’ve met me at a conference you probably know that I don’t carry business cards. How odd is that? Why would an agent not carry business cards? I’m not kidding when I tell conferees I don’t have cards. It’s not like I have a secret stash for special people. I simply don’t have cards at all.

Why?

Here’s my big confession. I was spending so much money on business cards that I had to stop buying them. I meet hundreds of people at conferences and I kept running out of cards and having to order new packs. The problem is that I’m not into flimsy, inexpensive cards you can order online or print on your own computer. No. Once I tried Moo, I was spoiled for all other cards.

Moo is a tactile experience. Their business cards are thick and creamy and allow for individual expression like something homemade. They are fun, but not in a frivolous way. They make me feel rich. They are like fresh brewed coffee with rich cream as opposed to freeze dried coffee crystals with low-fat milk.

And, speaking of coffee . . . I spent a week with my sister this summer and the coffee making at her house is an art. No Keurigs in that kitchen. You grind the freshly roasted coffee, you heat the water to exactly 200 degrees, and you pour it through the filter. Making the coffee this way not only gives you time for early morning contemplation, it also engages your sense of smell and enhances the experience.

Last year I bought a bike—it was new but had an old-fashioned-turquoise-1950-ish look to it. I liked the look. I love technology, but I yearn for the old life, sometimes. The slow life. I like snail-mail notes, handwritten on textured card stock. I like having thoughtful conversations where sentences aren’t spit out like lightning-fast tennis serves sending 140 characters bouncing back and forth, all fast and furious.

My children never lived in a slow time—they’ve had technology all their lives—but even they long for tactile experience. They like to own hardback books and they like to own their games and movies on disks rather downloading them. They don’t want to store things in the cloud. They are collectors. And their gaming habits? They enjoy playing board games with friends and family at the dining room table as much as they enjoy playing electronic games with people on their screens.

On the Moo blog I read about Qleek and Osmo, both are working to combine the new computer technology with the old tactile experience that we all used to have without even knowing we had it. (Check them out. Very cool products, I think.)

So what has this got to do with writing?

I wonder if there is a place for the old, the familiar—the stories that are told by an omniscient narrator. The stories that have lots of description or that talk about deep, important things.

We love the rush of the first-person, present-tense books. We love the stories written in close third-person limited. We like to get right into that character’s head because we’re into virtual reality these days.

But I suspect there is some room for the slow narration, the richly described story world, or the deep theme. I think if you can tell it well, there’s a place for telling. There must still be a place for spinning yarns. For sitting your audience down and saying, “Be still now. Settle in. I’m going to tell you a story.” One of the reasons I love The Tale of Despereaux is the omniscient narrator.

I’m wondering if there’s a place for an omniscient narrator in contemporary books. Or in action books. Or do all the story-tellers have to live in fantasy and historical novels?

Have you read any good books lately that have made you feel like you were enjoying today’s world or a future world in a slower, richer way that reminded you of the past?

And, even more importantly, in this rather strife-filled, fast-paced world that we live in, can changing the way we tell stories to our children, help them to become happy, well-adjusted people who think deeply about life?

Related posts:

1. Point of View
2. Description and the Longing to Create
3. Compelling Characters ~ Quality Two: Larger Than Life

Every year when the ACFW conference rolls around, I spend a little time thinking about where I’ve been and where I’m going. It was at the ACFW conference in 2012 that Les announced he’d taken on an associate agent.

And so here we are three years later. And I’m getting all nostalgic and teary-eyed and feeling a need to spill my guts on the Internet for all to read.

So how did last year stack up?

Did I do what I set out to do?

I said last year that I wasn’t going to do as many conferences this year, as I’d done the first two years. For the sake of my sanity, I was determined to cut back. Umm . . . yeah. That didn’t happen. I did turn down several conferences early on–even big conferences at which I was dying to teach. I was firm. No way. Uh uh. Not going.

But as the year wore on, my will-power failed me. And I am closing out the year having to say, “My name is Sally Apokedak and I’m an confer-o-holic.”

I’m grateful for the conferences, because they help me pay my bills. Along with those, I taught several online writnng classes at my own NovelWritingCourses site and at WOW and at Udemy. I also did freelance editing at my site and at Fiverr. (Anyone still wondering why I never answer queries?) But I’m thankful for all that work, because I’ve cobbled together enough to keep me in the game for another year.

It takes seven years to make a living as an agent

I had dinner with Kendra Marcus and Minju Chang a few months back. Was thrilled to meet Kendra and to hear what she had to say about the business, because she’s so successful. She told me, as others have done before her, “Seven years to make a living.” But she added something else to that usual line. She said a couple times, “IF you can hold on.” She stressed that, “IF,” part.  And then she added, “You’ll see a light after five years, but you won’t make a living until the seventh year.”

Seven years makes sense. In the first year, you’re building your list, editing work, getting proposals ready. In the second year, you’re sending things out. And you’re learning to better understand what editors are looking for. In the third year, you’re selling some books. And, finally, in the fourth year, you’re starting to get paid.

For some people it goes much faster. I know editors who have become agents who have done very well, from day one.

But for most of us? It takes a good, long time before we’re making a living.

So I am happy to report that it is the end of year three and I’m still here. I’ve sold books, and I’ve been paid, and I even have one client who is a best seller.

A few books I’ve sold or negotiated will be out this year, one in about a month, and several more next year, so I’m happy with the way things are going.

Really happy. I love this job. I meet people every day with stories to tell. People who have lived through some amazing experiences. People who make me cry. People who make me laugh. Mostly I meet a lot of brave people. Because it takes a lot of courage to bare your soul and to send your work out and to let other people judge it and, all too often, tell you it’s lacking in some way.

Writers and book lovers are some of the bravest people around. This industry is full of real-life heroes.

One brave friend gathered a group of people together this year and started a publishing company–Summers Island Press. And, hey, they’re open to submissions, so read a couple of their books and see if they might be a good fit for your work. I’m happy to know the woman who dreamt up that press and got the group together . . .  she wanted to see more great kid’s books published, so she took God’s hand and jumped into business.

So what has any of this got to do with you?

Several take-aways in no particular order

Fixate not on agents (and editors) as if they are gods. I’d like to disabuse you of the notion that the agents and the editors are walking on a different plane from the plumbers and the shoe salesmen. Well, some may be gods, but most of us are just trying to do our jobs. Trying to pay our bills. We have to deal with sick children and leaky pipes and nasty neighbors, just like everyone else.

AND . . .

Fret not, if you’re in a stage of life where you have to stay home and care for little people so you can’t go conferencing as often as you’d like—use the time at home to learn things about public speaking and marketing, because one day you may not have time to learn. One day your book may sell, and you may be going to a bajillion conferences a year.

OR MAYBE YOU’LL STILL BE STUCK AT HOME . . .

Fancy not, the other guy’s place in life. My best-selling author, Hannah Hall, often remarks on how she has all these small children and much of her time is spent wiping bottoms. So don’t pine for that big break, thinking your life will change drastically once you sell a book. It won’t. If you were wiping bottoms before you sold the book, you’ll still be wiping bottoms after.

BUT . . .

Falter not. Keep the faith. God can give you your dream job and pay the bills for you as you’re building your business, your old, fat, fearful self notwithstanding.

AND FINALLY . . .

Fear not, if you want to take a big risk and try to do something that feels impossible. Go ahead and try. What’s the worst thing that can happen? if you try big things, you’ll have big experiences. And you’ll grow strong. Stepping out and doing new things is good for you. Go ahead and take the leap.

Related posts:

1. The First Step in the Writing Journey ~ Learning
2. The Literary Life of Sally the Agent
3. Rejection

A friend lost her son Sunday. A tragic accident, a hit-and-run driver, a moment that can’t be replayed, and he was gone.

Just like that. All that vitality. All those years he had ahead of him. Gone.

He was a couple of years older than my son, and so I, thinking of how much I’d miss my son, ache for my friend, the mother, the one who will feel empty and sore for a long, long time.

I’ve been thinking all day that God sees the sparrows when they fall. That’s what the Bible says in Matthew 10:29. It says:

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.

God was there, with my friend’s son when he fell. That’s comforting.

My friend is a writer with a lovely voice. Her first published book is when sparrows fall. And I’m hoping today that she is comforted by that verse.

When we write fiction we write about things that never happened, so we can tell the truth about things that happen all the time. In our make-believe stories we tell the truth about death and life and sorrow and joy and black and white and gray all over. We tell the truth about pain and healing and limping and dancing when we show our characters loving and losing and aching and coming back around to peace again.

Often times we write from a place of past pain. But more often than that we write in the middle of pain. In the middle of life, which is full of starts and stutters and bumps and bruises and wounds so deep they feel like they’ll never heal.

Two steps forward, three steps back. Sorrow and joy and sorrow again and round and round we go.

But God is there when sparrows fall.

And today I’m thankful for that.

But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. Matthew 10:30-31

Related posts:

1. Queries ~ Do They Fall Into a Black Hole?

Are any of you familiar with The Musical Life of Gustav Mole? It’s one of my favorite picture books.

It felt right to name this blog post after a picture book, since I’m at a retreat for picture book writers—the WOW (Week of Writing) Retreat. I’m at a lovely lodge that sits on the edge of Unicoi State Park in Georgia.

The view from my window—food for this tree lover’s soul.

I’m a little out of my element here at this retreat for picture book writers. I love picture books. Love to read them. Love to rep them. Not sure I can teach anyone how to write one.

But I said, “Yes,” when Kristen Fulton asked me to be on faculty this year. Because I wanted to learn more about picture books and because I wanted to meet some good picture book writers, I was willing to take a topic I’m passionate about—voice for middle grade authors—and adapt it to fit the needs of the conference director and her “customers.”

Yesterday I was talking to a couple of other gals who told me about how they got their first books published. Editors asked them if they could write specific things and they said, “Yes.” One of them said an editor asked her if she could add a substantial number of words to the book and then provide an annotated bibliography, and . . . could she get that to him in six weeks. “Yes, yes, and yes,” the author said. “No problem.”

As soon as she hung up the phone she looked up “annotated bibliography” to see what in the world she’d just agreed to.

There are two kinds of writers I meet at conferences. One writer comes to lap up instruction, to take notes, to soak it all in. She seems eager to find out what publishers want. This writer wants to build a better a mousetrap. She comes with her prototypes, but she holds them loosely. She sees that publishing is a business—there is a supply and demand dynamic. She is willing to adjust her designs to supply what the editors demand.

Another writer comes with her dream ensconced in a fancy presentation folder. She’s got it all double spaced with one-inch margins, tied with a satin ribbon, and . . . set in stone. She has a product to sell. She has polished that product. It’s the joy of her heart. It’s her life-long ambition. This book is her message to the world.

The first kind of writer doesn’t so much try to get the editor to say, “Yes,” as she tries to get the editor to ask for something. She wants to say, “Yes,” to the editor. She wants to serve the editor—to meet the editor’s needs.

The second kind of writer wants the editor to serve her. She has a vision. She has a plan. She has a work that needs wider distribution. She wants the editor to be her partner and to help her, because she’s writing books that the world wants and needs.

There’s nothing wrong with either of those approaches. There’s nothing wrong with having a vision and a plan and with looking for a team to support you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to find an agent who will work for you and who will pitch the books you love. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to find a publisher who catches your vision and wants to partner with you and help you reach your audience.

But if that’s you, be aware that you’re going to have a harder time selling your work. The author who will get the most work is the author who says, “Yes,” to the editor’s book instead of trying to talk the editor into saying, “Yes,” to the writer’s book.

It’s just the nature of the business. The publisher is the middle man. He has customers—readers—and he thinks he knows what his customers want from him. So he goes looking for a manufacturer who will supply him with products to sell.

Think of it like this: The publisher’s customers want screwdrivers. So he goes to a tool-makers trade show. He keeps meeting people who make hammers, and he asks each one for a screwdriver. Nine of the tool makers go on and on about how lovely their hammers are. They have special soft-grip handles. They come in five fabulous colors. There is a great need for hammers. Hundreds of thousands of people are working on craft projects at home and they all need a tool to drive nails. These hammers will sell like crazy if only the publisher will take them and mass produce them and send them to the hardware stores.

But one guy at the tool-makers trade show says to the publisher, “You want a screwdriver? Sure thing. I’ll make you one.”

Obviously the guy who gives the publisher what he wants is the guy who will make the sale.

We all have to live within these limits. It’s not just the poor writers who have to say, “Yes.” The publisher has to say, “Yes,” to the reader.  And the agent has to say, “Yes,” to the publisher.

And the agent has to say, “Yes,” to the conference director.

If I had told Kristen that I’d love to come to her retreat and teach on voice for middle grade writers, she wouldn’t have invited me to be here. So I’m adapting to try to fill her needs, even though that means I’m having to stretch a bit.

Which writer are you? Do you have a vision you want to see come about? Or are you willing to write whatever it takes to break in? Is there a middle ground? And what are some drawbacks and benefits to each of these ways?

Related posts:

1. Typical Day in the Life of a Literary Agent
2. How Do You Become a Literary Agent
3. Literary Agent and Control Freak

Yesterday I talked about my take on writing from my somewhat warped view of God’s calling on Christians: I had the idea that since writing was so much fun I should give it up.

I realize that many of you blog readers aren’t Christians. But I wrote that post because I think that this idea of, “I’m having fun, but this is an expensive hobby and I should give it up,” crosses religious and political lines. I filter everything through my Christian worldview, but I’ve known many nonChristians who felt the same way I did about writing.

They felt it was their guilty little pleasure.

Here’s the deal: Most writers don’t get paid much for their writing.

And I think because of that, it often feels like we’re out alone in a storm. We may have an umbrella and our imaginary friends for company, but what defense are they against the wild wind and rain of the world’s disapproval?

You, dear writer, sit with your fingers on the keyboard for hours on end. You, dear writer, pass up TV in the evenings and an extra hour in bed in the morning. You steal time from your family and friends, and you take a lower paying job that won’t sap your creativity. You sacrifice for your art. And what do you have to show for it? You have your art.

But does your spouse appreciate your art? Does your spouse consider your art a worthwhile end? Does your spouse even read your art?

We live in a world that pounds a message into us: If you don’t make money you aren’t successful. If you don’t make money you aren’t really working. Sacrificing for art is not something most people admire. People will admire you if you get a multi-million-dollar contract for your ability to throw a football. They’ll admire you if you are paid millions to dance half naked on stage. They’ll even admire you when you make hundreds of millions telling people that Jesus loves them and the goal of his existence is to give them their best lives now.

Money! We like money. The ability to make money is admired.

Right? And we don’t value things that don’t make money.

How many of you have had family members or friends ask you to do them a favor in the middle of the day because they just assume you’re sitting home with nothing to do. You aren’t really working. You don’t have a job.

Come on. Give me a show of hands.

If you aren’t making a lot of money, you’re pretty much a failure, whether you’re a plumber or a writer. But at least if you’re a plumber, people understand you are working. Writers don’t even get that. You can slave away at freelancing, knocking out articles to pay your bills while you work nights on your novel, and your friends don’t get that you work. For some reason, writing is not considered work, whether you’re paid or not.

Because, after all, anyone can do it.

Give me another show of hands. How many of you have had people tell you, “Oh, I’ve always thought I’d write a book one day.” As if writing a book is on the bucket list, along with taking a trip to Alaska. Because, you know, writing is like taking a vacation.

So this idea that we ought to give our writing up because it’s not worthwhile is not just something that weird Christian/Puritan people struggle with. It’s something that artists struggle with.

How much do we sacrifice for our art? Is there value in our art? Is the fact that we love it—that it feels as necessary to us as breathing—enough to make us keep doing it when we get no respect from the world?

Please don’t hear me saying that you need to be angry at your spouse for not reading and supporting your work.

Writers are a bit different from the rest of the world. One of the reasons you love to go to writers’ conferences is that you are with your people there. Right? You feel so happy to meet other people who love the creative process as much as you do. People who love words. Who love to communicate. Who are often introverts. Who think deeply. Who spend hours putting in a comma and more hours taking out the same comma.

If your spouse doesn’t read your work, that’s not uncommon and it’s no reason to be upset. Others don’t necessarily get writer types. So be it. I don’t get rocket scientists, myself. I don’t think we all have to “get” everything.

The point of this post is not to tell you to be mad at your spouse or to bemoan the fact that you didn’t have a supportive parent or to encourage you to be unhappy or to respond in a militant manner the next time your spouse says, “Honey, turn off the computer and come to bed.”

The point of this post is to ask you: Is your art enough? If you never make a dime at writing, is creating art for the sake of creating art enough?

I have come to believe that it is enough. That the fact that I love to write and edit and work with my clients suggests that this agenting gig is something I was created to do. I have come to believe that publishing is where I’ll live and die, and even if I die poor, I’ll die knowing I got some books published that made children laugh and cry and feel and grow. Books that made readers consider things they hadn’t thought of before, that helped shape them so they were better people when they got done reading.

That, my dear writing friend, is worth doing. I don’t care if you never make more than a few cents an hour, the work you do is worth it.

If you love writing, but you aren’t making much money, that doesn’t mean writing is a guilty little pleasure. It simply means the world is full of silly people who don’t value important things.

Related posts:

1. A Christmas Wish
2. The Farmer and the Writer
3. When Life Interrupts Your Writing Time

I have a new web address.

If you are not redirected in a few seconds, please visit http://www.sally-apokedak.com/

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Thanks!

I have a new web address.

If you are not redirected in a few seconds, please visit http://www.sally-apokedak.com/

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Thanks!

I have chosen the winners!

Well, actually, Random Number Generator dot com, has chosen the winners.

Before I announce the winners, I need to tell you one thing: You all had a very good chance of winning.

As soon as Les Stobbe agreed to let me join his agency, I stopped asking people to sign up for the newsletter. So, whereas I was going to promote heavily through October and November, I did no promotion at all. And I ended up with a small list of subscribers (88, to be exact, which a very cool number—it was the number of the taxi-cab my boyfriend and I owned and operated in Anchorage, Alaska). As it turns out, Random Number Generator dot com chose four winners and I happen to know three of those winners.

The truth is, though, that I know more than 75% of the people who signed up for the newsletter. So it makes sense that I’d know 75% of the winners. I’m really surprised I don’t know all of them.

So, there’s my explanation, to any of you who may wonder why I know so many of the winners.

Here are the prizes:

• 1st prize: iPad Mini
• 2nd prize: five books tucked into a lovely book bag
• 3rd prize: the book bag with three books
• 4th prize: the book bag with two books

And now without further ado, the winners in the First (and last) Annual Best Books for Young Readers Sweepstakes:

• 4th prize goes to: Meg Moseley
• 3rd prize goes to: Vicky Alvear Shecter
• 2nd prize goes to: Ben Musclow

• 1rst prize goes to: Suzan Robertson

And now I bid you all adieu. In another week, I’m going to redirect this blog to my agent site. If you want to keep up with me, please subscribe to posts over there.

Thanks!

I have chosen the winners!

Well, actually, Random Number Generator dot com, has chosen the winners.

Before I announce the winners, I need to tell you one thing: You all had a very good chance of winning.

As soon as Les Stobbe agreed to let me join his agency, I stopped asking people to sign up for the newsletter. So, whereas I was going to promote heavily through October and November, I did no promotion at all. And I ended up with a small list of subscribers (88, to be exact, which a very cool number—it was the number of the taxi-cab my boyfriend and I owned and operated in Anchorage, Alaska). As it turns out, Random Number Generator dot com chose four winners and I happen to know three of those winners.

The truth is, though, that I know more than 75% of the people who signed up for the newsletter. So it makes sense that I’d know 75% of the winners. I’m really surprised I don’t know all of them.

So, there’s my explanation, to any of you who may wonder why I know so many of the winners.

Here are the prizes:

• 1st prize: iPad Mini
• 2nd prize: five books tucked into a lovely book bag
• 3rd prize: the book bag with three books
• 4th prize: the book bag with two books

And now without further ado, the winners in the First (and last) Annual Best Books for Young Readers Sweepstakes:

• 4th prize goes to: Meg Moseley
• 3rd prize goes to: Vicky Alvear Shecter
• 2nd prize goes to: Ben Musclow

• 1rst prize goes to: Suzan Robertson

And now I bid you all adieu. In another week, I’m going to redirect this blog to my agent site. If you want to keep up with me, please subscribe to posts over there.

Thanks!

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You may have noticed I’ve been absent  for a few weeks.

You may have noticed the links to the book reviews have gone missing from my header.

Why, you may ask?

Because I don’t think literary agents should do a lot of book reviews.

It’s finally official, and I can make my big announcement.

I’m a children’s literary agent.

For a long, long time—from way back into the misty years of childhood—I’ve wanted three things. I’ve wanted to write children’s books (and win Newbery Awards), I’ve wanted to own a bookstore, and I’ve wanted to be a literary agent.

Well, I didn’t win any Newberies. And I didn’t open a bookstore. But this year the wonderful and kind-hearted shepherd of newbie authors, Les Stobbe, expanded his role to become a shepherd of new literary agents. I am officially an associate agent at the Leslie H. Stobbe Literary Agency. I’m thrilled.

And I’m really tickled, besides.

I love reading children’s books. I love critiquing and doing big-picture edits.  I love the publishing industry. I love writers’ conferences. What could be more perfect for me than to be an agent?

I’m hoping to accomplish a few things as an agent:

• I hope I’ll add to the agency by bringing in some expertise in the children’s publishing world.
• I hope to help authors by serving a segment that is presently underserved. I want blockbuster YA’s, sure, and like everyone else, I’m hoping for some funny, rich middle-grade boy books, but I’m also hoping to take on some PB authors and writers with books that have spiritual elements.
• I hope to help editors by sending them stellar proposals for manuscripts they can snap up, publish, and sell by the truckload.
• And most of all, I hope to serve readers by championing books that are worth the reader’s time and that enrich the reader’s life.

What does this mean for you dear blog reader? Well, probably not too much change. I haven’t been posting over here much lately and I won’t be picking up the pace anytime soon. (I’ve been busy, busy, even if it’s been a fun busy.) I hope to get over here a  couple of times a month.

I will also be blogging over at my children’s literary agent site, sally-apokedak.com, and I do hope some of you will come visit me over there once in a while so I don’t get too lonely.

Thanks!

~~~~~~~~~~~

photo credit: jaxxon via photo pin cc