Submitting to Literary Magazines 101: Professionalism

I am truly honored to have Vince Gotera as my guest today. Vince writes poems and stories, as well as the occasional creative nonfiction. His books include the three poetry collections Fighting Kite, Ghost Wars, and Dragonfly, as well as the critical study Radical Visions: Poetry by Vietnam Veterans. Vince serves as Editor of the North American Review, originally established in 1815, the longest-lived literary magazine in the US. He has been a Professor of English at the University of Northern Iowa since 1995. He earned an MFA in poetry writing and a PhD in English from Indiana University. Vince’s blog is The Man with the Blue Guitar. Gotera writes:

In a couple of days, I will be starting my tenth year as Editor of the North American Review — a tremendous privilege and honor since the NAR is the longest-lived literary magazine in the US, originally established in 1815.

About a year and a half ago, in a Facebook group titled “MFA in Creative Writing,” as part of an online discussion of editing and publishing, I dashed off an impromptu list of my pet peeves as NAR poetry editor. This list quickly took on a life of its own and was re-run on at least one other writerly blog and perhaps others. (As the movie Dorothy said of the Munchkins in Oz, blogs “come and go so quickly” so I can’t be certain how widespread the list “viraled,” so to speak.)

In any case, here (officially) is the precise text of that offhand list, originally written on 29 August 2007:

Okay … for me, the “turn-off” is different for each poem I ultimately reject. Here are a few immediate turn-offs, in no particular order:

• Botched ending … forced, too explanatory, too “universalized”
• Clumsy use of form … for example, if sonnet or sestina, etc.
• Slow getting going … should rock from first line down
• Too much full rhyme … I prefer slant rhyme
• Uninformed line breaks … be aware of lineation effects
• Abstract or image-less … unless experimental
• Superficial topic or handling
• Obviously unaware of poetic tradition(s)
• Cover letter explains poem … inexperienced submitter
• Poem sent with vita or résumé … very inexperienced submitter
• Says “copyright …” … does writer think I’ll steal the poem?
• Centered lines … unless important for theme
• Badly edited … errors, typos, grammar, etc.
• Font too small … many editors are older and have old eyes
• Monotype font or font too fancy … hard to read quickly
• Pseudonyms … let’s back up our writing with our names, ppl
• Handwritten … usually from prisoners, though I’ve accepted poems by prisoners.

There are other turn-offs but that’s all I can think of at the moment.

I do want to say that I don’t just drop the poem. My eyes touch every word. I read very quickly and wait for the poem to say, “whoa, you’re reading too fast.”

I also want to say that not every poem we take is already “perfect.” if a poem has something good going for it but has errors or whatever, we are willing to work with the poet in the proof stage. Not full workshop of course … that would be inappropriate … but suggestions and queries. In the long run, though, the writer’s in charge, of course.

Well, I’m grateful Pat has offered me a slot here as guest blogger. I would like to use this opportunity to expand on and clarify some of the items in that offhand list above. And maybe, if she’ll allow me, devote some later guest blogging slots to other pet peeves.

Today, I want to address professionalism in submitting to literary magazines. Five items above plus one other are germane. What I will say below about these six items are part of what many people — both writers and editors — refer to as “unwritten rules.” Oh, incidentally, what I’ll say below pertains directly to poetry, but of course writers of other ilk are welcome to adjust my advice for their own genre(s).

(1) The Cover Letter. Many writers don’t include a cover letter at all. The reasoning, I suppose, is that the editor will of course know why the poems are coming to the magazine. That’s okay, but I personally like to get cover letters because I think they’re polite. If they’re handwritten and say something like “Some poems for the magazine,” that would be fine. Our grandmothers told us we should send nice notes, and that’s what the cover letter should be. Sorry if I seem fussy here; I just think the transaction between the writer and the editor should be civil and friendly. A cover letter certainly can dispose me favorably (a little) toward the submission. Especially if a cover letter is fun or entertaining.

But … don’t try to impress me in your cover letter. Don’t tell me you were published here or there. Or that you have published so many books blah blah blah. When I see that in a cover letter, I don’t read it. For me, the poem and only the poem can get itself into the magazine.

Definitely do not explain the poem in your cover letter. As an editor, I’m trying to gauge how readers will understand the poem, and I don’t really care how you read your poem. Or what you meant. Or what poetic form or style you used. If the poem can’t “say” all that for itself, it’s not getting into the NAR.

It’s a good idea to list in the cover letter the titles of the 3 to 6 poems you’re sending. This will make our lives easier should your cover letter get separated from the poems. Not likely to happen but it could.

(2) Résumés and Vitas. Sometimes writers who know the cover-letter pitfalls listed above will instead send a list of publication credits. From my point of view, that’s equally annoying. Actually, more so, because it’s not as friendly as an actual letter.

What ever you do, never send a résumé or a vita; that really smacks of inexperience. Of not knowing the “unwritten rules.” There may be fields or disciplines in which one sends a vita with a submission, but not in the literary magazine world. Sending a résumé or a vita could possibly dispose me against your work. What I mean is that your poems will have to work that much harder to catch my attention. It could happen … the poems could be so good that they make me overlook the résumé faux pas but that would be a rare occurrence indeed. It’s never happened, actually, in my twenty years of poetry editing.

(3) Copyright. The experienced writer should be aware of how copyright law works: that as soon as you write something, you own its copyright; in other words, you only have to show that you wrote something and when to defend your copyright. Inexperienced writers, on the other hand, will sometimes fear that their poems are leaving their hands and could be stolen by someone at a magazine. So they will include a copyright notice on the poem itself.

This is quite an insult. An arrogant one. First, this practice suggests that you think your work is so good that the editor or some other staff member will, instead of publishing your work, be driven to steal it. Second, this tells us you think we are thieves. Do you think this makes us friendly to your poem?

There are how-to articles and books out there that say put a copyright notice on your piece. That is old advice for an older time and is no longer necessary in today’s copyright environment. So just resist doing it. Your chances of getting published will increase. What I mean is that the poem will have a chance of a better reading without a copyright notice.

(4) Fonts. Something that we see quite often is a poem that has been printed out in 9- or 10-point font. Sometimes even smaller. I’m not really sure why people do this. Perhaps they’re trying to save postage. Or they want to squish their entire poem onto a single sheet. Who knows?

Look at it this way. When you are interviewing for a job, do you make it difficult for the interviewer? Or annoying? Do you dress in garish colors that make it hard for the interviewer to look at you directly? Do you whisper your answers to the interviewer’s questions so that you can almost not be heard?

What you do with fonts can be equally deleterious. Let’s face it, editors are writers who have some mileage on them; and that mileage takes years. So quite often, an editor will be someone with older eyes. How do you think the miniature font you’ve used to get your poem all on one sheet will be received by that editor with the graduated bifocals or trifocals? There is no problem with having continuation pages. In fact, when I send out poems, I use 14-point Times to make sure they are readable by all.

Speaking of Times font: I would dissuade you from using a typewriter font like Courier. Those are harder to read than Times or Palatino or Georgia or some other standard non-typewriter font. Remember that the editor must read quickly. For example, at the NAR, we read 7,000-10,000 poems a year. If the poem is hard to read fast, there’s a possibility it may not be read at all. Ditto with fancy curlicue or script fonts. Hard to read. Bad. Also sans serif fonts like Helvetica. A little easier to read but not as easy to read as Times. You may think Times is boring but it could help you get published.

(5) Pictures. No. Very bad. No pictures with poems. Even if you’re sending an ekphrastic poem — one based on a painting or a sculpture, for example. The enclosed or attached picture is a definite tip-off that the writer is inexperienced. An ekphrastic poem has to be good enough to stand on its own without the visual image next to it. In a blog, including a picture next to a poem is a plus. In a submission, BIG minus. Just say no.

(6) Pen Names. This last one is not the same kind of no-no as those above; it is not patently a bad idea. Nevertheless, it is still a no-no (at least for me). Pseudonyms were important to publish in previous decades for many reasons; one of these is that women or minorities had a harder time getting their work accepted without a “good old boy” name. This situation has changed, however, and people who use pseudonyms often do so now for romantic reasons. Or because they feel their poems are somehow NSFW (“not safe for work,” as we sometimes say in Internet slang).

A pen name some poet might think romantic, like “Valentine Lovesmith” or “Genevieve Queensryche,” is just straight-out silly; the real name of an American 19th-century romance writer, Mrs. E.D.E.N. Southworth (Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte), helped to make her a bestselling success story, but taking on a name like that won’t work today. I feel writers should stand by their own names; their poems should carry the weight and significance of their real names. Not all editors will probably agree with me on this, but I suspect a majority of them will.

Okay, that’s it for now. I hope you will see the sense of these “unwritten rules.” Basically, for me, it’s about friendliness and civility, again. Editors are your friends. They want to publish your work. They want to discover the next great poet. So make the submission easy for editors, professional, and your poems will be able to shine on their own as they should. Good luck with your writing and with your submissions.

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I Enjoy Keeping Men Up Late at Night!

A couple of days ago I received an email from Aaron Lazar, author of Tremolo: Cry of the Loon. He said: “I started A Spark of Heavenly Fire last night and am HOOKED, big time! I read 100 pages (usually I fall asleep when reading in bed after a few pages) and dreamed about it all night. Wonderful! Can’t wait to read more, Pat. You’ve got a winner here.” Today he wrote: “Read another hundred pages last night. I’m mad with you! I didn’t get enough shut eye! HAAAAA!”

I do enjoy keeping men up late at night! I like keeping women up late at night, too. During all these years of wondering what it would be like to have people read my published novels, this is one aspect I never took into consideration — how wonderful it would feel to know that I am keeping people up past their bedtime so they could read a few more pages. Such an awesome power!

In November, I posted a bloggery, “What If People Like My Books?” I had been so focused on getting published, that for some reason until then it never occurred to me to wonder what it would be like if people actually enjoyed my novels. After 200 rejections, I was poised to deal with more of the same, but so far I have received only positive feedback. It’s an incredibly affirming experience to have people peek into your mind, to become intimately involved with your creation, and to get what you’re saying. So much of me is in the books that I thought I would feel exposed, but I don’t for the simple reason that the books no longer belong to me. They belong to anyone who reads and enjoys them.

Wanda H. wrote:  “I’ve now read both books! They were both spellbinding and kept me engrossed until I finished. It was hard to put them down to sleep and not to pick them up again in the morning and instead go and do things.

My favorite is A Spark of Heavenly Fire. I love the characters and the action and the . . .  well, everything. But it only edges out More Deaths Than One by a bit.

I now see what you mean about an unnamed genre. Kind of a big picture conspiracy, behind the scenes machinations and how that affects the little guy (or gal) on the street. You did such a terrific job. I know you’re going to enjoy tremendous success not only with these books but also with the books you’ve yet to write.

Anyway, just to gush a little more…. I love your work! You rock!”

Sheila Deeth, who won the first autographed copy of my book because of her wonderfully imaginative entry for my More Deaths Than One Contest, wrote an incredible review of the book.  She starts out: The first three pages of “More Deaths than One” have to constitute a serious contender for the best opening scene of a novel. Two main characters are introduced, a garrulous waitress and a taciturn hot-chocolate customer. They meet. She talks, a lot. He reads the paper. “And Lydia Loretta Stark was dead. Again.” With two such immediately real and appealing characters, and a line like that, I’d challenge anyone not to want to keep turning the pages. more  . . .

So . . . what if people like my books? I feel honored, and if truth be told, a bit humbled.

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My First Review!!!!!!!

Steven Clark  Bradley, author of Patriot Acts, has written such a marvelous review of my novel More Deaths Than One, that I can’t keep it to myself. I want to shout it to the world! I knew it would be a good review, because several days ago he messaged me on Facebook. This is a transcript of our conversation:

Steven: (4/19/09 10:37 pm) Hi Pat, I wanted to let you know that I am deeply into your book and it is fantastic. You have a great hook, at least it certainly hooked me! You have a natural talent. I usually read a book really quickly when I am going to post it and review it, but your book has my total attention and it reads very well. If you can get a large number of people to know of it, I know you could have a best seller there. Once again, free of flattery, you are one of the smartest writers I have met. I promise, you’ll love what I write about More Deaths Than One.

Pat: (4/20/09 11:51 am) What a wonderful thing to say! I am thrilled you like More Deaths Than One. You’re one of the very few people who have started reading it, so your encouragement is much appreciated.

The question that has haunted me for months is how do I get a large number of people to know of the book. Perhaps someday I will find the answer. Your review will help, that’s for sure!

Steven: (4/20/09 12:14 pm) The only word that comes to mind is Superb! I read until 1:00 Am last night and forced myself to go to bed! Great work!

I think your characters are so interesting and human. I feel I know them well now. Could we call it “What about Bob?” ;>) you’re a really great writer and no reason why you cannot sell thousands of books.

Steven: (4/22/09 1:21 am) Hi Pat, Sorry I have not written, but I have been busy finishing one great novel . . . written by you! I have already posted a review for your novel. I have not read a book that enjoyable in a very long time. You are a natural. I hope you like what I wrote and every word is the truth. I am happy to be your first posted review on Amazon. That gave me great pleasure. Have a great night and thank you for allowing me to share in the mind of Pat Bertram.

Pat: (4/22/09 12:17 pm) Steven, I am sitting here trying to figure out how to thank you for the fantastic review and the wonderful presentation on your blog, but  am touched beyond words. Still, you deserve the words: thank you. Your review was so well done that even I am now anxious to read More Deaths Than One!

Steven’s review: More Death’s Than One

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Developing A Smell-O-Meter: How Do You Tell If What You’ve Written Is Good?

I’m participating in an interesting discussion on Facebook today about  . . . you guessed it! Developing A Smell-O-Meter: How Do You Tell If What You’ve Written Is Good? It’s a topic I’ve been considering a lot now that my books are released and feedback is trickling back to me. I always knew A Spark of Heavenly Fire was good – even when it was bad, I knew it was good. I can’t tell you how I know – probably that smell-o-meter. Or perhaps an ingrained feeling for the flow of a story. That belief kept me going through multiple rewrites and hundreds of rejections. It’s nice to know that agents and publishers do not know what individual readers like. Today, Malcolm R. Campbell, author of The Sun Singer, left me a message on my facebook wall: I just finished reading A SPARK OF HEAVENLY FIRE. When I stay up past my bedtime multiple nights in a row just to read a little bit more, I know I’ve found a winner of a book. Darned good, Pat.

On the other hand, I never got a sense of More Deaths Than One. Even after all the rewrites, it just didn’t seem to be as good as I wanted it to be. I entered it into a contest on Gather.com eighteen months ago, where the first chapter was posted for people to vote on. Lazarus Barnhill, author of The Mecine People and Lacey Took a Holiday, was impressed with that first chapter of More Deaths Than One, and he eventually became one of the book’s first readers. When he finished it, I asked if he was disappointed in the book. He said no and gave a little laugh. When I finally got up the nerve to ask why the laugh, and he said, “I laughed because anyone who knows anything about writing would know how good it is.”

So, apparently my smell-o-meter works only half the time.

As for telling if sentences, words, paragraphs, scenes are any good, it’s mostly a matter of reading them, changing a word, reading them again, changing another word until the piece flows. If the words flow and if the story flows (and if  the story is worth telling), you don’t need a smell-o-meter. It will be good.

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Goddess of Poetry: Patricia Smith

On March 31st Bruce DeSilva, the writing coach at The Associated Press in New York City, posted one of my book trailers on his Facebook profile. He prefaced it with: Check out the trailer for the new book by Facebook goddess Pat Bertram.

I shot back a thank you, with a wry: goddess? I thought the rest of our email conversation noteworthy, and I wanted to share it with you.

Bruce: “The Goddess” is what I call my wife, the poet Patricia Smith. I do NOT throw the term around loosely.

Pat: I am honored. Actually, I was honored even before your explanation, and now even more so.

Bruce: If you want to see Patricia in action — she’s truly incredible — go to this URL and look at the great video. It’s the Borders “poetry open door” site. Believe me, you’ll be very glad you did. http://www.bordersmedia.com/odp/smith.asp

Pat: You’re right, Patricia is incredible. I always thought of poetry as quiet, visual. But hearing and seeing it spoken turns it into something different — something alive, dynamic. I never realized that before.

Bruce: Poetry was originally meant to be spoken out loud. Academics took it over and turned it into something dusty and stuffy. But poets like Patricia are taking it back to its roots and, in the process, getting it a wider audience. Yet Patricia’s work not only works on the stage but on the page. She works not only in free verse but in form, producing great sonnets, sestinas, crowns, etc. She’s a four-time National Poetry Slam champion, but she’s also National Poetry Series winner and a National Book Award finalist. Yes, I’m very proud of her.

Pat: You’re proud of her? I couldn’t tell.

Bruce: There’s another series of videos scheduled to be put up on the site soon, and I’m thrilled that the filmaker, Anthony Tedesco, who had me man a second camera, gave me a camera credit on it.

So, as Bruce said, check out the video of Patricia Smith reading her poetry. You will be glad you did. Border’s Open-Door Poetry site.

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Conversation With Marshall Karp, Author of Flipping Out

Marshall Karp, the author of Flipping Out, is an award winning former advertising executive, a playwright, a screenwriter, and a novelist. He has also written, produced, and executive produced TV shows for all the major networks.  

Bertram: I enjoyed reading Flipping Out. I must admit, you do know how to turn a phrase. You have a marvelous ear for dialogue, and a knack for one-liners. One, especially, sticks out as being memorable. The cops, Mike Lomax and Terry Biggs, are ready to enter a house owned by a murdered celebrity. Terry looks up at the towering stucco columns and says, “Rather phallic. I think they’re art dicko.”

Marshall: Thank you for the kind words about my ear. That would be the left one. The right one is even more amazing. It can actually hear a tree falling in the forest even if I’m not there. Funny thing about art dicko. In my first draft, as they’re about to bust through the door, I wrote something that my editor felt was too close to what Terry had said the first time he saw that house. She told me to come up with something better. Who knew it would turn out to be one of the more memorable lines in the book. I just don’t want it on my tombstone. Marshall Karp, that guy who wrote art dicko.

Bertram: Is there anything in particular you’d like me to say my review of Flipping Out? Any particular passage you’re particularly proud of?

Marshall: Gosh, blurbers have asked me that, but never a reviewer. For sure, don’t mention art dicko. I wouldn’t want Terry’s lapse into sophomoric humor to define me. In fact, few lines from books do justice to the entire book, although an advance reviewer on Amazon picked up an exchange between Terry and Marilyn that tickled me.

My favorite reviews are those that capture what I hope to do best. My goal is to develop characters you just want to be with over and over again. Some authors have had success with worn down, burned out cynical cops, but I wanted real people. I hang out with real cops, and they are incredibly funny – in that business they have to be – it keeps them sane. So I made Mike and Terry human before I made them cops.

I write for people who want three-dimensional characters, real laugh-out-loud humor that is organic to the situation, and plot twists right up to the final pages. And while I make no guarantees, I’d say that a steady diet of my books can also help you lose weight, double your income, and improve your sex life.

I hope that helps.

Bertram: I’m going to use the last paragraph to finish of my review, if you don’t mind. It’s a great quote.

I am so sick of the stereotypical cynical, burned out cop that it’s refreshing to meet some fictional ones who aren’t.

Marshall: I’ve been reading some of your 100 word stories. They’re terrific. How do you do it? It’s an art form (literary form?) I had never heard of before. I was talking to JA Konrath today and saying that I’m not sure I know how to write a short story. I used to write 30-second commercials, but now I’m stuck in the long form. Plus once you wind me up, I tend to get going. That’s probably why my first book was 632 pages.

Bertram: I can’t write regular short stories, maybe because I don’t like to read them, but for some reason I can do the 100-word ones. They are called drabbles, and stemmed from sci-fi conventions where they developed from a novel writing contest.

With a drabble, you have to find the essence — which is why there are so few stories on my Mini Fiction blog. It’s hard to do. And then you have to have a beginning, a middle, an end and a change in the life of a character.

I think of it as a prose haiku.

Marshall: Well, you got me with prose haiku. Here’s an exercise I did at a conference. I don’t know if it fits the drabble parameters — the challenge was slightly different — but it’s only 95 words. So humor me, and tell me if you think it does.

When you work homicide in Southern California you see your fair share of dead celebrities, but this… this is the first one that ever really got to me.

There were deep ligature marks on his white skin, and his once perfect body had been gracelessly dragged to the side of his private pool and left to be further ravaged by an unwilling accomplice 93 million miles away.

“Who,” I sputtered, as the hot Pacific breeze greeted me with the aroma of my first morning cup of death, “who the hell would want to murder Shamu?”

Bertram: It is an excellent blurb that caught my attention, but it’s more of a scenario than a story.

We don’t know who Shamu is, so the last sentence isn’t much of a punch line. And drabbles seem to need a punch line at the end.

Marshall: Shamu is a pretty famous whale. You’re forgiven for not knowing. Damn those pop culture references. They don’t always work.

Bertram: Then I stand corrected. Your story works for a drabble. In fact, it’s very good. But use those extra five words to show that it’s a whale for us ignorant people. Thank you for talking to me. It’s been a pleasure.

Marshall: And thank you for helping support my life of crime.

See also:
Titles: What Makes a Good One by Marshall Karp
Review of Flipping Out review by Pat Bertram
How to Do a Blog Tour by Marshall Karp

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Titles: What Makes a Good One

My guest today is Marshall Karp, an award winning former advertising executive, a playwright, a screenwriter, and a novelist. He has also written, produced, and executive produced TV shows for all the major networks. Karp tells us what makes a good title:

1. Short.

That’s my first thought.  Why?  Because your title is not just words.  It’s a major design element on your cover – often even more than the illustration.  And given the space limitations, the designer can do a lot more with one, two, or three words, than with ten.  Also, picture your cover reduced to a thumbnail on Amazon.  Too many words become unreadable.  That said, I think my title HOW TO EARN MILLIONS, LOSE WEIGHT, AND DEVELOP KILLER ABS WITHOUT WORKING, DIETING OR EXERCISING would sell a ton.  I just have to write the book.

2. Intriguing. 

I think it helps if your title makes prospective buyers wonder what that book might actually be about.  My first title, THE RABBIT FACTORY, is probably my best.  It just seemed to grab people.  And the chalk outline of a six-foot rabbit on the cover added to the mystery.  Note: a year before publication another author used the same title.  I was crushed, but my publisher told me that titles are copyrighted, and there are lots of duplicate titles. THE RABBIT FACTORY, he said, was too good to change. He was right.  The title definitely helped sell the book, both to the trade and to readers.

3. Not generic. 

My second book, BLOODTHIRSTY, is about murder by exsanguination.  I was so excited when I came up with a title that described the plot in one word that I never thought twice about it.  In hindsight, I should have.  Blood is a little — make that a lot — overused.  But the designer loved having a word that was loaded with visual possibilities.

4. It’s a title. It’s not the book.

The title does not have to communicate what the book is about.  It has to make the reader want to buy the book to find out what the book is about.  Sorry if that sounds like I’m talking down to you, but it’s a basic fact that I was late in learning, and still have trouble dealing with.

5. If you’re lucky, the title will keep on changing.

English is not the universal language.  So while THE RABBIT FACTORY is called THE RABBIT FACTORY in the UK and literally translated to IL MISTERO DEL CONIGLIO SCOMPARSO in Italy, it’s CARTOON in France, and in Dutch it’s loosely translated as FATAL ATTRACTION. 

My latest book is about a group of cop wives who are getting murdered.  They also have a house flipping business together, and my US publisher is very happy with the title FLIPPING OUT.  But my UK publisher said the Flipping part wouldn’t resonate.  I got in touch with my inner Agatha Christie and reluctantly offered up THE DEAD WIVES CLUB.  They loved it.

But months before either book was ready for market there was a lot of confusion among readers, booksellers, and reviewers.  Even when I tried to make it perfectly clear on my website that it was the same book, going by two different titles, people kept asking me how two different books could have the same synopsis?

Finally, my UK publisher agreed, and now, FLIPPING OUT is called FLIPPING OUT in the US and the UK.

6. The Airport Test.

Titles are very personal and intensely subjective.  It’s hard for an author to subtract his or her own investment in a title when making the final decision.  So try putting your prospective title to this test.

Narrow down your titles to a small handful.  Then find someone whose opinion you value and say this:  You’re in an airport. You have 30 seconds to buy a book.  If you saw this title, does it (a) intrigue you to want to learn more, or does it (b) just grab you?

You want a title where the respondent says (b).  Because the best thing a title can do is grab a reader in a way that makes her want to grab the book.

See also:
Review of Flipping Out
Conversation With Marshall Karp, Author of Flipping Out
How To Do a Blog Tour by Marshall Karp

One lucky commenter, chosen at random, will win a free copy of Flipping Out. If you do not win, click here for your consolation prize:
flipping cover[2] - online jigsaw puzzle - 40 pieces

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Steel Waters by Ken Coffman — a Sort-of Review

When I first saw the movie Lone Hero starring Lou Diamond Phillips, I wasn’t impressed. It seemed trite — a retelling of High Noon with outlaw bikers set against the background of a wild west show. Yet the next morning, as the story slowly sank into the backwaters of my mind, one scene after another percolated to the surface, and I found myself smiling at the sly humor and wry nuances I was discovering. Lone Hero is now one of my favorite movies, one that gets richer with each viewing.

This retrospective appreciation has happened with a few other films, but I until recently I never read a book that became better with aging. Most go in one synapse and out the other before sinking into oblivion, but Steel Waters by Ken Coffman refuses to stay there.

Coffman’s wry humor and gritty descriptions immediately captivated me, but his hero didn’t. I have no use for characters (or people) who bring about their own miseries. Glen Wilson walked away from his wife and farm for no other reason than because he thought needed to. When he ended up in a Bolivian jail, I didn’t care. And neither did he. He seems to have a great capacity for accepting the status quo until suddenly he wants something else. (Usually without knowing what that something else is.)

Still, Glen Wilson was unique and compelling enough for me to keep reading. He is a mixture of opposites: hard-boiled and quixotic, opportunistic and idealistic, down-to-earth and impractical. And I enjoyed the book.

As Steel Waters percolates, however, I see much that I missed. Sure, Glen Wilson brings about his own predicament, but he is a victim of his own unresolved wants. They pull at him, buffeting him from one wild adventure to the other. The book has an episodic feel to it, but all mythic journeys do, and in the end, that is what Steel Waters is: mythic.

You are familiar with the mythic journey template. It’s the basic format of Star Wars, The Wizard of Oz, The Hunt for Red October. An ordinary person answers the call to adventure. Meets mentors, allies, enemies. Passes tests. Undergoes the supreme ordeal, seizes the reward, and finally returns home — a hero in truth. Or not. Coffman doesn’t follow the format exactly. Glen Wilson may or may not be a hero. He may or may not be changed. This is the beauty of the mythic journey template — it is infinitely changeable without ever losing its power.

So now I have to go back and reread Steel Waters with this percolation in mind, see the layering of the nuances and the humor. I’ll let you know if it’s as good the second time around as it is in memory.

See also: Pat Bertram Introduces Glen Wilson, Hero of Five Ken Coffman Novels

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“Was It Bizarre Reading a Sex Scene Written By Your Sister?”

Exactly two years, 351 days, and 12 hours ago, my sister asked if I was ever going to let her read my manuscripts. I told her no, that I wanted her to have the joy of reading the books when they were published. (There is a vast difference between a manuscript and a book.) Back then, off course, it was still wishful thinking; no one had the slightest interest in publishing my books. Well, hell froze over or something equally cataclysmic, and now she owns two of my published books — books, not manuscripts. Here is a transcript of our spate of emails.

SISTER: The weekend was unexpectedly glorious, so I spent most of it outdoors, lots of yard work, digging in the dirt, reworking some landscaping, plus a wonderfully relaxing picnic at a bayside park. Ahhh. I didn’t spend nearly as much time reading More Deaths Than One as I thought I would, but . . . when I left Bob and Kerry on Sunday night, they were on a plane heading to Thailand, and I’m certainly looking forward to hearing all about what they find. I had a fabulous time traipsing around Denver with them — all those familiar sights and sounds. What a kick. What a gift. Thank you.

I’m curious about so many things, and I’m not sure if it’s tacky or tactless to voice these to the author, but . . . Did you ever see tin-hat folks on Colfax Ave?

ME: No, it’s not tacky to ask. Yes, I did see a foil-helmet guy on Colfax once.

SISTER: Bob’s childhood home was on 22nd, not 23rd?

ME: I don’t remember why 22nd Avenue instead of 23rd (where we grew up).

SISTER: Is it OK if I believe I found myself in your book as a two-liner behind-the-scenes character? Because, gosh, a BMW sure would be a nice upgrade for me.

ME: (After checking the manuscript to see what she was talking about) How funny, the BMW character does sound like you. What was I thinking??!!! Maybe . . . thinking of you? To be honest, I don’t have any idea. It’s like the book isn’t a part of me anymore. I don’t know where even a fraction of it came from. I do remember piecing it all together, though, and I remember all the rewrites. It was the first book I wrote, the third, the fifth, so it wasn’t inspired. It was perspired, but still, I don’t remember.

SISTER: Wow — that “Ballad of Reading Gaol” definitely merits closer study, whew. Best critique I read of that Wilde work is: “. . . startling contrasts between light and shade, drawn together with a keen eye and a sense of the beauty in sadness itself.” Lots there. I’m curious how you found the link between your novel and your title . . .?

ME: Originally the book was entitled The Law of the Jungle. Then I decided that title was trite, so I re-titled it The Nature of the Beast. Then I came across that stanza from Oscar Wilde’s Ballad of Reading Gaol, and had to have More Deaths Than One. Too perfect.

SISTER: Do you realize this novel would make an awesome movie??

ME: Yes, I do know the book would make an awesome movie. There are some scenes that would be powerful visuals.

SISTER: And I have to say — the first time “hidden shallows” appeared on the page, I heard your voice loud and clear. What a quintessential uniquely clever Pat phrase!

This has been great fun so far. Looking forward to more, that’s for sure.

ME: I take it that you’re not disappointed in me/my writing, or feeling guilty for telling your friends about the book.

SISTER: That would be a resounding enthusiastic “damn straight, Sista!”

ME: Just out of curiosity — was it bizarre reading a sex scene written by your sister?

SISTER: Um, YES. But I was proud at the same time — that was hot, quite frankly, and I learned something new. ;D

ME: Maybe I should interview you for my blog!!! Could be interesting. Though I have purposely left my private life off of it.

SISTER: How about this: you could write out a list of questions for your little sister, I’ll pen my answers — and if you like how it sounds, you can post it on your blog . . . if you think “not”, you don’t.

ME: List of questions? That was my question! A one-question interview.

SISTER: Well then, I’m done for the day! You have my permission to post the “interview” as it actually happened. :)

ME: I took liberties and posted our whole exchange. It was too good to pass up. So, welcome to my blog!

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My Novels Did Not Make the Earth Move. Or Did They?

This is the first day of my post-book-launch-week life, and I feel just the same. The past couple of days I felt a bit let down when I realized my book release did not make the earth move. Well, there was that earthquake in Italy, though I don’t think I had anything to do with it. But you never know. If a butterfly flapping a wing in the Amazon can cause a typhoon in Malaysia, perhaps the ripple of my books being released into the atmosphere of the literary universe could have become so magnified as to make the earth quake, but I hope not. I would not want all those deaths and injuries on my conscience.

But today I feel . . . well, I feel released. Getting the books published has been a long, hard journey, from the first word to the final product. A journey that took almost a decade. I have to admit, though, that these past few months have been the hardest — months of always being a step away from publication, months of knowing that the books were almost ready but not quite. But all that is past. As Goethe wrote, “There is only the eternally new now that builds and creates itself out of the elements of the past.”

So now it’s time to build my future out of those past elements, though as what I don’t know. A published author whose books people love? An author who sinks into the slime of “never heard of her”? A desperate self-promoter screaming “looka me, looka me” to an uncaring cybercrowd? Whatever happens, I hope I will handle it with grace.

I’ve already been baptized into the realm of anonymous ratings. I noticed on a couple of sites that my books have a one-and-a-half star rating, which means that two people had to have rated them, one with a single star, one with two stars, yet as far as I know, no one has read my books. A few people might have received their order by now, but no one has emailed me to say what a fool I am to think I could write. On the other hand, no one has emailed me to say they loved the books. Which means . . . nothing.

I know I have an incredible task ahead of me. Promoting a book in today’s market is like tossing a pebble in a gravel pit. Who can find one book or one pebble among so many? And yet, if the sun shines just so, if a spark catches someone’s eye, perhaps it will be found and treasured.

And maybe, just maybe the book will make the earth move.

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