Meet my new agent, Allison Hunter!

Allison is at the fancy NY agency, Janklow & Nesbitt. She's a total gun, a women's fic expert and fan, and I'm tickled pink to be working with her. 

Q. What do you look for in a submission?
A. The author’s platform matters, especially for non-fiction—I always want to know if the author has been published before and where, and (for fiction) if he or she has an MFA.  But the main thing I’m looking for—which is so hard to describe—is voice.  I want to be sucked in by the characters, or the setting.  I want to keep reading.  I want to know what happens next.

Q. One thing every author could be doing better?
A. I’m constantly shocked by how many authors don’t read new books.  If you want to be published, in today’s market, you have to know what today’s market looks like!  If you’re writing a memoir, read other, popular, NEW memoirs.  If you want to write women’s fiction, read women’s fiction.  Know who is selling.  Read reader reviews.  It’s the best way to understand the market and your potential place in it.

Q. Hottest reads of the summer?
A. The Regulars in paperback of course!  I also have to plug my author Anne Helen Petersen’s book Too Fat Too Slutty Too Loud The Rise and Reign of the Unruly Woman, analyzing how female celebrities—and women in general—are pushing boundaries of “acceptability,” which feels so timely and important right now.  Janklow & Nesbit author Rachel Khong’s novel Goodbye Vitamin is everywhere this summer.  Zinzi Clemmons’ What We Lose and Matthew Klam’s Who Is Rich are on my “to read” list.  Finally, I absolutely loved Grant Ginder’s hilarious novel The People We Hate At The Wedding.

Q. Can readers of this blog submit to you?
A. Please do!  Send a query and the first 15 or so pages to ahunter@janklow.com.

How to be a better copywriter

As well as being a very very famous author, I do occasional copywriting for select clients. Want to get better at your everyday copy?
 
1.Less is more. As an author who writes 100,000 word novels, I love my words. But in copywriting, less is more. Everyone’s attention span is basically zero, so you’re always looking to cut and trim. Don’t repeat yourself. Cut anything that’s subtext or inherent; if it makes sense without it, cut. (i.e. “Below you’ll find three tips on how to grow healthy orchids using things you probably have already in your garden shed. Here they are!” is all unnecessary; just get to the tips.) Don’t babble (i.e. “We’re starting to try to reach out to people who feel very passionately about and really enjoying growing orchids” = “We’re connecting with people who love orchids”). Look for your written tics (mine are an overreliance on “just” and “actually”) and cut.
2.Stay fresh. Flowery is out. Fresh is in. Modern prose is clean and stripped back. This means no adverbs, no boasting, no exclamation points. Cut up long sentences so they’re short, muscular, to the point. Make interesting word choices (rather than “Our orchids are very pretty”, play with “Our orchids are elegant/graceful/lush”). My preferred embellishments are jokes, and they work best when they’re dry. Your prose should feel confident and cool.
3.Speak to your audience Your tone, form and content must speak directly to your audience. You can’t please everyone, meaning you can’t speak to a teenager and a CEO at the same time. Decide on your demo, and work backwards from what they want, and expect. Read successful competitor copy to see what they're doing well. Walk the walk, talk the talk. 

Highbrow vs Lowbrow, or why I don’t rag on chicklit

Last week as I was cooking up my beloved fake meat for a big Sunday brekkie, I was listening to the gang at NPR’s Pop Culture Happy Hour discuss The Fate of the Furious, the latest film in the mega-successful action franchise. Their take was light-hearted but generous: exploring the pleasure and context of the film as a whole. It made me wish that popular women’s culture was treated with the same level of respect.
 
While women buy and read the most books, the literary establishment favors reviews and coverage of books written by men. And it’s not just the NYT guilty of dismissing this form of women’s work. How many times have you heard a “highbrow” male literary author heap shit on a “lowbrow” male thriller writer? I’d guess never. Speaking generally, men don’t draw cultural distinctions between their genres, because a) they don’t experience internalized sexism and b) popular male writers are not dismissed in the same way popular women writers are. This is not the same for women. Some of the most outspoken critics of (and I do hate this term) chick lit, are women authors and readers. Why?
 
I take my job very seriously. I work hard on my books, and telling stories about the modern female experience really means something to me. I love connecting with readers, but I no longer casually browse review sites. I have a relatively thick skin, but it only takes yet another “this is a fluffy, brainless read”-type review to really bum me out. While it’s impossible to be objective, I don't think The Regulars is fluffy or brainless. That hurts, but what hurts more is understanding that consistent sort of feedback in a global, historical context.
 
We live in a world where women’s ideas are devalued or flat-out disbelieved. Things designed for women and female audiences face disproportionate amounts of vitriol: Lena Dunham’s naked body (not pandering to male pleasure = gross), Fifty Shades of Grey, Twilight (speaks to female fantasies = stupid). I’m careful to watch my own reaction to culture created by women. If I find myself needing to defend a position that “my books aren’t chick lit”, I ask myself why. What is gained by dismissing other women’s work, work that is enjoyed by other women? Does dismissing “lowbrow” culture come from a place of love or fear?
 
Publishing books enriched my life in so many ways, and one of the most significant is perspective. Just because something isn’t for me, like, perhaps, The Fate of the Furious, does not mean it is worthless and stupid. I challenge myself to remain open-minded and curious about all forms of culture, especially those created and enjoyed by ladies. I encourage you to do the same. 

How to Take Feedback

No matter the art form or project, getting feedback on your works-in-progress is both essential and really fucking tough. Good feedback will strengthen the work. Bad feedback can derail you and shake your confidence. In fiction we call our early readers "betas". Here's what I think about when getting feedback from my betas. 

Expertise: Some betas are editors or agents. Others are friends or fellow authors. The former should be giving feedback that is coming from a knowledge of craft or the marketplace. The latter will likely be going with their feelings and taste. Both are good, but just know that a friend who tells you "you need to do more research" might actually be saying "because I personally prefer books that are heavily researched" not "research will strengthen your concept and help this book be an even better version of itself."
Emotion: Getting feedback from anyone at any stage is hard. Your first reaction will likely be defensive ("Screw you, I'm perfect!") or defeatist ("I'm screwed, I suck".) Both are understandable. Neither are helpful. It's okay to take the time you need to let the new brief you're essentially getting to sink in. Remember: asking for feedback and then acting on it is part of the process. Work rewrites into your schedule. 
Could be/should be: The work could be anything. It should be a much smaller number of things. Sure, your heroine could fall in love with a woman or quit her job to travel the world. But she should be narrating a story that is captivating/authentic/well told (or whatever you're aiming for). When getting feedback, I try to listen for what sounds like something I really should be doing, because it will make the book better, even if it's a lot of work, vs ideas I could do--they're not bad ideas, but really, they're just different storylines--and they don't really serve this unique story well. 

Go with your gut. Be honest with yourself. Don't be lazy. Do the work. 

The Regulars is coming atcha in audio!

The Regulars and my forthcoming novel The Bucket List are both going to be audio books! I’ve been saving this announcement for my esteemed mailing list so you’re the first to hear it. The audio rights can be bought and sold like the foreign rights, so there’s no guarantee a novel becomes an audio book. We didn’t get any bites around pub, but the company BrillianceAudio bought the rights in a 2-book deal earlier this month. I just filled out the casting questionnaire, listing details such as all the accents the actor will have to do—British, Dutch and Australian. Can’t wait to hear that Aussie accent in my earbuds! I listen to audiobooks that I borrow from Brooklyn Library: just a reminder your local library has audio, e-, and regular books and is free to join!

Five ways I maintain belief in myself and my work

 

The Bucket List is my fourth novel. Some aspects of being a novelist do get easier: I work faster, feel confident attempting more ambitious plots, and I’m less in the dark about the business/marketing/publicity side of things. But some things feel harder, especially as my personal goalposts keep shifting. Even on not-so-great days, I work to maintain a real sense of faith in myself: here's how.
 
1. Focus on what it is, not what it isn’t: The deeper you dive into your chosen artform, the more you educate yourself about the different styles, genres, and voices within it. It’s easy to feel sad or insecure about what you’re not because no single artist can be everything to everyone. I try to stay focused on what I am as a writer: contemporary, funny, feminist, fast-paced. There’s many things I’m not, and that’s okay. You can still enjoy what you’re not as an audience member. You don’t need to do it for it to enrich your life.
 
2. Roll with rejection: This morning I received my 6th rejection for a writing residency in 2017. I haven’t gotten into any this year. The more rejection I get, the less it bothers me. I don’t need to do residencies to work: very little outside yourself is truly essential to the creation of work (even a publisher is not essential to the actual creation: trust me, I’ve written two books that didn’t sell). When it comes to rejection, practice the ancient mantra: Give zero f*cks.
 
3. Find a way to live with your fears: Currently, mine is acknowledgement, not space. I hear the nervous, negative chatter, and I say “Fine, I hear you, in some ways I agree but I JUST DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOU.” I have to crank out thousands of words a month, I don’t have to time to sit and worry. Find a way that works for you, remembering the end goal is producing work.
 
4. Speak lovingly about the work: A true sense of faith comes from within, but it is kept alive by your micro and macro community. Even if you’re unproduced/unpublished, speak lovingly and with excitement about your work. You’ll build a solid support system. If you’re having a bad day/s, wait until you feel more positive rather than trashing yourself and your work. It’s off-putting and damaging to your end goal. Therapy can help you work through self-doubt.
 
5. Stay connected. We say wedding vows to establish guidelines for the successful longevity of a relationship. Remind yourself regularly why you’re doing what you’re doing. And it does not need to be 100% altruistic: it’s better if it’s not. To paraphrase Liz Gilbert, create for your needs not the perceived needs of those around you. I need entertaining, emotional, intelligent stories about young women, that’s why I create them. It’s easy to get bogged down in the muck of self-doubt, fear, compare-and-despair syndrome: stay connected to the why, and see the big picture.