When Writers Don't Deliver

A guest post by Tess Gerritsen.


It's every aspiring author's dream. A publisher offers you a big contract for your next book, the deal gets announced to the press, and you receive a check as an advance payment. Now all you have to do is finish writing the manuscript, send it to your editor, and presto! You're a published author.

Or not. Because a lot can go wrong between signing the contract and your book's appearance in stores. I was reminded of just how often things do go wrong when I recently came across this article:

A New York publisher this week filed lawsuits against several prominent writers who failed to deliver books for which they received hefty contractual advances, records show.

The Penguin Group's New York State Supreme Court breach of contract/unjust enrichment complaints include copies of book contracts signed by the respective defendants.

Among the five authors mentioned in the article are Prozac Nation author Elizabeth Wurtzel, who signed a $100,000 deal in 2003 to write "a book for teenagers to help them cope with depression," and blogger Ana Marie Cox, who signed a $325,000 contract in 2006 for a humorous book about political activists.

I don't know the particular circumstances of these authors. Perhaps personal issues -- a divorce, a severe illness, or unremitting depression -- kept them from delivering the promised manuscripts. Perhaps they did in fact deliver the manuscripts, which was deemed unsatisfactory by the publisher and rejected.

Or perhaps they suffered from an all-too common writer's malady: crisis of confidence. I know all about it, because twenty-five years ago, it almost derailed my budding writing career.

I had just sold my first romantic thriller, Call After Midnight, to Harlequin Intrigue. The book sold well and was nominated for a Rita award. Although I didn't sign a contract for the next book, my editor anxiously waited for my second novel. And she waited. And waited.

Two years later, all I had to show her were partials of various abandoned novels, stories that started off well enough, but within fifty pages had run out of steam. I just couldn't finish that second book. The months went by and my panic grew. This wasn't just writer's block; this was a full-stop career block. I was doomed to join the crowded ranks of one-book wonders.

I don't remember how I got past those dark months. What I do remember were the calls from the editor, the sound of disappointment in her voice when I told her I still didn't have anything. Eventually the calls between us stopped, leaving editorial silence, a sign that my publisher had at last given up on me. But I hadn't given up on myself, so I kept writing.

What saved me in the end was this: I finally gave myself permission to write badly. I decided it didn't matter if what I wrote was unpublishable, as long as I just kept writing. Up till then, I had abandoned at least three different story ideas within the first hundred pages, because all I could see were the flaws, and I got discouraged. Then I'd get seduced by a different story idea, a brighter, shinier premise on the other side of the fence. And I'd go chasing after that new premise until it too started to show its flaws. I couldn't finish a single book because I wanted it to be absolutely perfect, from beginning to end. From the very first draft. Which is like expecting your child to speak four foreign languages and play Bach on the piano at age five.

Children don't start off perfect, and neither do manuscripts.

At last I pulled out one of my earlier attempts, a story about a woman doctor being sued for a case of malpractice that is, in truth, a murder. The hero is the plaintiff's attorney, whose goal is to destroy her career. It had been months since I'd looked at the story, and suddenly I saw new possibilities. I resumed writing it. This time, I didn't stop to edit, I didn't stop to think: "oh, this part sucks." I stuck to my mantra: Just keep writing. And I did, all the way to the end.

The result was a first draft that was full of inconsistencies and mid-story plot shifts and characters who kept changing. But at least I had a first draft. I had a beginning, a middle, and an end. I had something to fix, and I did. In 1990, Under The Knife was finally published -- three years after my first novel.

In the past twenty-five years, I've written twenty-four novels. I've never forgotten those depressing, desperate months when I couldn't finish a book. Over the years, the writing hasn't gotten any easier; it's hard work, and it always will be. I've learned that I simply have to forge ahead, no matter how awful my writing seems, or how outlandish my plot. Because here's my second mantra: I can fix this. I might need five or even ten re-writes, but eventually I'll make that story work and I'll turn in that manuscript as promised.

Publishers want writers they can count on, writers who are both reliable and consistent. They'll usually give the author a certain amount of leeway if unavoidable crises pop up, such as serious illness or a death in the family, but eventually the contract has to be honored... or else.

And that's what separates the professionals from the amateurs. The professional always delivers.

Tess Gerritsen left a successful practice as an internist to raise her children and concentrate on her writing. She gained nationwide acclaim for her first novel of medical suspense, the New York Times bestseller Harvest. She is also the author of the bestsellers Life Support, Bloodstream, Gravity, and The Surgeon. Tess lives with her family in Maine.

Ms. Gerritsen's most recent thriller, Last to Die is reviewed today on Stuff and Nonsense. 

A Rare Glimpse Inside Amazon

By Andrew E. Kaufman

I had a unique opportunity a few weeks ago, one I don’t think I’ll soon forget.

Authors Jessica Park, Michele Scott
(and some funny looking dude)

Amazon invited me and a few other of their top-selling authors to their big news conference up in Santa Monica (I say “up” because I live “down” just a few hours south in San Diego). At the time, I didn’t have a clue why I was going—none of us did. All we knew was that we were invited guests and there would be a lot of photo-ops. They also said we’d be staying at Shutters, a beautiful beach hotel, for a few days.

Even better.

As it turned out, the purpose for the conference was to announce the new line of Kindles (including the re-vamped Fire, which, incidentally is likely to give Apple a run for their money), as well as to promote the Kindle Direct Publishing program; it's where we all found success.

Courtesy of theverge.com

There were indeed plenty of photo-ops. As we rolled into the lot, I nearly swallowed my stomach when I saw all the satellite trucks, reporters, and photographers surrounding the place. I did even worse when I saw Amazon CEO, Jeff Bezos, standing on that stage…along with my book on the screen directly behind him. I think someone might have nudged me at that point. I’m not really sure. I was too stunned/numb to actually feel it.

Excitement and hoopla aside, it ended up being so much more than just that. It was a rare chance for a first-person glimpse inside Amazon, to see why they’re changing how publishing is done. Not that I was completely surprised. It’s no secret I have a special affection for them. After all, I’m fully cognizant of the fact that I wouldn’t be where I am today if our paths hadn’t met. They opened doors for me during a time when everyone else was slamming them in my face. I don’t think I’ll ever forget or lose sight of how they changed my life in ways I never imagined, nor will I ever stop being grateful to them for it.

But like I mentioned, I already knew what Amazon had done for me and countless others—what I never fully understood, was how or why.

Now I do.

At a special dinner the night of the news conference, I had the opportunity to meet and talk with the people of Amazon, many with whom, up until this point, I’d only communicated through emails. And while there were certainly quite a few discussions about the nuts-and-bolts of publishing, there were others that went far beyond that.

As I spoke with each of them, one thought repeatedly popped in my head: these people get it. They really do get it. They understand that the relationship between an author and publisher is an important one; it’s a partnership built on trust and respect.

That notion was repeated during each of my conversations when I kept hearing two words, ones I hadn’t expected.

“Thank you.”

Though I couldn’t help but feel like I should have been the one doing the thanking, their sincerity and genuineness told me that it was a two-way street. They were as appreciative of us for helping them make the program a success as we were of them for giving us the chance to do it. And I wondered: how often in publishing is a message like that spoken with such clarity and intent? How often, in fact, is it said at all? I suspect that before Amazon came along, it didn't happen often.

And I learned something else. Not only do the people who work for Amazon have great passion for what they do—they also have great passion for the authors they represent. Our success is as important to them as it is to us. That kind of sentiment is not only unheard of in publishing, it’s thinking outside the box at its finest moment.

When I got home, I noticed a Facebook invite from one of the Amazon publishers I had met. After accepting it, I looked at her latest post and couldn’t help but smile:

Goddamn, I love authors.

Words that say it all.

Why I Went Indie

Today's guest post is from Jenny Hilborne, author of Madness and Murder, and No Alibi. Like a growing number of traditionally published authors, after giving it a great deal of thought, she made the decision to go the indie route with her newest release, Hide and Seek.  Here's why:

I can’t say I got tired of querying agents and publishers because I didn’t have to do it for long before I received my first publishing contract. I’m not a control freak. I don’t have a drawer full of unpublished manuscripts. The reason I went Indie is simply because the noise got too loud to ignore.

Two years ago, I saw my first thriller, Madness and Murder, published by a small press only one year after I completed the manuscript. I met my publisher at a writers conference in San Diego, spent thirty minutes discussing my book, and received a contract about 5 months later. The same publisher also signed my second thriller, No Alibi.

Book signings and other events followed. I connected with many other authors and started to hear the clamor about independent publishing. For a while, I rejected the idea, wrapped in my traditionally published bubble. As the noise and excitement grew, I got curious…and a little envious. I wanted the same kind of freedom to offer special promotions on my titles and play around with my prices, like all the other authors I'd befriended, some of them now bestsellers.

Here are some more reasons why I went indie for my third thriller, Hide and Seek: 

I’m doing all my own marketing for my traditionally published titles, and I’m paying 100% of the costs. On top of a full-time job and a 30+ hour per week writing schedule, I have to squeeze in time for promoting my novels. As a traditionally published author, I have to sell twice as many books than my independently published counterparts to recover my costs from all events and paid promotions.

I also don’t want to wait a whole year after signing contracts for my book to see print. While I understand that publishers have schedules, it’s a year of lost income while I wait. Not good.

The stories of success shared from some of my fellow (independently published) authors, encouraged me to give it a go. Many of them started out like I did, made the switch to indie, and haven’t looked back. They connected me with a great cover artist and interior formatter and gave me a little shove. I want to compare the experience, to have more freedom, to learn something new, and to work for myself for a while, maybe for good. I can’t make an informed decision about whether indie publishing is best for me unless I try it. I’m excited to see how it stacks up.

For more info about Jenny and her work, please visit her website.