Category Archives: Life Philosophies

The Five Pro-Tips of the Fan-Zone

The writing business is not an easy one. It’s long, lonely hours of producing material often followed by piles of rejection letters before we even get our shot. Even then, there is nothing guaranteed. It’s an enter at your own risk sort of business. Chances are you will not be made rich, nor famous, nor even influential. Why then do we even bother?

INCONCEIVABLEOne and all, we are here because we love stories. We were touched at some point in our lives by the words of another and were inspired to share our own thoughts and creativity with the world. Writers are born from fans. So then, it would be absolutely, utterly inconceivable that we, as authors, would cringe at any amount of fan attention. Honestly, it depends on the person. First and foremost, writers are people, and many of us are introverts. Interacting with people isn’t easy, so many authors create a mental space that I call the “fan-zone.”

When you approach an author at a convention or some other event, they will be continuously evaluating everyone around them to decide if they will be shelved in one of three categories. First, is this someone with whom I can do business (agents, editors, publishers, etc)? Second, is this a person who will not expect anything from me other than normal social interactions (fellow writers or non-fans)? Finally, is this person a fan, a person for whom I will need to project my authorial persona? This split-second categorization will help determine how they interact with you.

The fan-zone is not a bad place to be, in fact, many authors love interacting with fans. For me, talking about writing and stories with people is one of the best parts of being a writer. Through trial and error and a bit of advice given to me by good friends, I have come up with a list of pro-tips that I try to hold to while interacting with authors.

Pro-Tip #1: Be a fan in MODERATION

You don’t want to be this guy. Seriously, just don’t.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wykoU2zstIM&start=20&end=26&rel=0]

There is no better way to put your favorite author on the defensive than to come off as too eager or demanding. Please, show your appreciation for their work and talent, but also be aware of how you appear to the other person. If a perfect stranger were to approach you the way you are about to approach your favorite author, would you want to talk to them?

Pro-Tip #2: Be CONSIDERATE of the author’s commitments

Authors typically have a large number of demands on our time and attention. Aside from our personal lives, we have deadlines and our own projects to work on. When at conventions, we’ll typically have a schedule of things that need to be accomplished or places we need to be. The better known the author, the more extreme this becomes. Please keep this in mind when approaching your favorite author. If you chat with them for a few minutes and things seem to be going well, feel free to offer to buy them a cup of coffee or lunch. If they turn you down, it’s probably not personal.

Pro-Tip #3: Read the SOCIAL QUES and respond appropriately

Non-verbal ques are essential to any interaction and are a large part of what allows the social contract to function. Is the author settling into a more comfortable position while leaning forward to engage you? Perhaps they are interested in a more lengthy interaction. Do they seem to be backing up or turning their body away from you? The conversation is likely over. Are they looking to the next person in line at a signing? Chances are that they have spent all the time they can with you and need to move on. Social ques are highly individual and situational, so you’ll have to use your best judgment to figure out what is being said.

Pro-Tip #4: Respect the author’s PRIVACY

Unless you are planning on using the facilities yourself, don’t ever follow an author/agent/editor/person into the bathroom. Even then, it’s something to be avoided. Though inappropriate and unnecessary, it is a tactic that is still attempted none the less. Read blogs or articles online from editors and agents and they seem to universally agree: the bathroom is neither the time nor place to pitch your next great manuscript. The same thing applies to waiting in ambush outside the door. In general, it’s a bad first impression. If the person you are trying to talk to makes a move towards some place where they should have the reasonable expectation of privacy, the conversation is done.

Pro-Tip #5: Authors are PEOPLE TOO

As fans, we create this pedestal upon which we settle our favorite authors. We want them to be kind and charming, to share their experience and love of their characters and stories with us. Truth is, writers are people too. However, writers are people too. We get tired, hungry and cranky. Conventions and signings are business trips for us. We are continuously working for the space of a few hours or maybe even up to a week. The unfortunate truth is that some writers are just arrogant jerks. Be prepared for your favorite author to be human. Be a person to them, not just a fan, and things will likely go better.

Dispelling the Myths, Part Two

A interview post with Jen Greyson.

Yesterday, I posted the first of my two sit-down posts with author Jen Greyson, author of Lightning Rider and Shadow BoxerHer publishing story began a couple of years ago upon selling her first novel to a publisher—and not just any publisher, but The Writer’s Coffee Shop, the company behind Fifty Shades of Grey. Here’s the interview’s conclusion.

EB: What kind of marketing went into your book’s release?

JR: Press release and a blog tour, social media on launch day. I devoted a ton of time into finding bloggers to review/tour for this book, so both sides worked pretty hard on this launch. I also did a big launch party and the publisher sent me bookmarks and fliers for advertising.

EB: What were your biggest turnoffs in the traditional publishing experience?

JR: In a nutshell, I gave up a lot and got very little in return. I bought into the myth of traditional publishing (though I’m not sure if I can even call this a “traditional” deal, because they were basically a small-press). I figured once I had a contract I’d ‘made it’ and everything would be a piece of cake from there. Boy, was I wrong. I still had to devote a ton of time and energy into sales. As I did the math, it became obvious very early on that I could do the same amount of work as an indie and make a lot more money. (This was a royalty-only deal.)

At the time I released Lightning Rider, NA (new adult) was really gaining traction and the publisher didn’t know how to market NA (or fantasy) because they’d never had one. They were really open to my suggestions, and that was great, but I’d chosen them because I thought they had some marketing “secret.” In the end, I picked a publisher that was a bad fit for my book, but I wanted to be published so badly that I overlooked a lot of red flags.

EB: After the release, how were your sales?

JR: Sales were nowhere near the Fifty Shades numbers I’d hoped for! 🙂 That ended up working in my favor, though, because of a clause I negotiated that specified that if I didn’t sell a certain number of books within the first six months, the contract could be terminated.

EB: Did you take any “missteps” along the way that you would caution other writers about?

JR: Don’t be so eager to get published in the short-term that you overlook the long-term. One book is nothing in terms of a writer’s career. (I’m hoping for another thirty-five years!) It was really hard for me to be unbiased about the deal, and if I’m truly honest, I don’t think anyone could have talked me out of signing with them. I wanted to be published. And because of that craving/desire/crippling need, I wasn’t as smart as I should have been. I wasn’t realistic about what a first book by a first-time author was going to do. I believed I was the exception to the rule.

EB: After having pursued traditional publishing, what are you doing now? How has the experience influenced your career path?

JR: Right now, I’m self-pubbing all my titles, and that’s probably the plan for 2014. Interestingly, the workload hasn’t changed, but my royalty checks have! And because I’m trying to expose myself to readers in a genre dominated by indies (NA), I need to be able to drop titles every three months. I can’t afford to wait eighteen months for a traditional deal—not right now, and not with my NA titles.

I’m definitely not opposed to doing a traditional deal in the future, but now that I’m out from under the myth of traditional publishing I think I can make a much more educated decision. I also have a better understanding of what goes into getting each book into readers’ hands, and I know how to budget and value my own time in the equation.

My path isn’t necessarily what’s right for anyone else. Writers need to do their homework. Talk to other authors who’ve been there, seek counsel, be smart. And in the wise, wise words of James Owen: “Never, ever, sacrifice what you want the most, for what you want the most at that moment.”

Jen Greyson picGuest Bio:
From the moment she decided on a degree in Equestrian Studies, Jen Greyson’s life has been one unscripted adventure after another. Leaving the cowboy state of Wyoming to train show horses in France, Switzerland, and Germany, she’s lived life without much of a plan, but always a book in her suitcase. Now a wife and mom to two young boys, she relies on her adventurous, passionate characters to be the risk-takers. Jen also writes university courses and corporate training material when she’s not enjoying the wilds of the west via wakeboard or snowmobile.

The Many Facets of Intimacy

What makes romance interesting? If you don’t read romance novels (like me), then you might answer, “Nothing.” But such a pat answer would be a little disingenuous. Personal preference aside, romance is the best-selling fiction genre by far. By far. If you don’t believe me, then just take a quick jaunt over here. Seventy-five million people read at least one romance novel in 2008 and the genre generated nearly three billion dollars in sales in the last two years. Yikes. Anyway, who am I to argue with seventy-five million fellow readers? That’s a fight I can’t win.

You could argue that it’s almost impossible to write a compelling narrative with no trace of romance in it. Even if it were possible, though, you’d be missing out on a massive storehouse of dramatic potential. Interpersonal relationships drive stories, and that’s a fact; romantic interpersonal relationships, by virtue of being the most complicated and emotional type of relationship, drive the most complicated and emotional stories. I know those are some broad statements, but they’re generally true.

So again I’ll ask, what makes romance interesting? What makes it compelling? “The love,” you might say, reductively. That would be true. Kind of. The conflict—the fireworks—doesn’t come from love, per se, as feelings of love are symptomatic of the true root cause of all this interest: intimacy. People really get off on intimacy.

Now, bear in mind that love and intimacy aren’t quite the same thing, though they are certainly close cousins. Love comes from intimacy, as I just alluded to, and the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Which is why, to cite a popular example, you can have sex (highly intimate) without love. This is largely the difference, I suppose, between romance and a lot of erotica.

Intimacy is about closeness. When I fall in love with another person, I let them into my life, sharing aspects of myself with them; they, in turn, share aspects of themselves with me. Our lives merge, at first slowly, and then in more significant ways as the relationship develops. Two—or more, if you swing that way—become one. By absolutely zero coincidence, sex is a wonderful metaphor for this process, which is why it’s intimate.

If closeness generates intimacy, then outright control does the same. Instead of merging your life with another person, you allow another person to take over your life. To control you, to take over your decision-making process. That’s as intimate as it gets. Well-meaning fetishists engage in bondage play all the time, and hopefully they do it temporarily and with some imposed structures. Beyond that, intimacy can go to some really dark places. A lot of crimes revolve around the perverted need for intimate control—rape and kidnapping, to name two—and then finally, the most extreme intimacy of all: murder.

My curiosity was piqued last year, in the darkest and most horrible way, when I stumbled upon some disturbing research while working on a book. As a matter of course, I don’t know that much about various fetishes (and fear not, I’m not going to commit much ink to this), but did you know there is a fetish in which a person can deeply desire another person to murder them, for sexual fulfillment? I even heard of a case from Europe where a person contracted another person to murder them and then cannibalize them; if sex, as a means of physically merging oneself with another, is a metaphor for romantic intimacy, then surely cannibalism is the most extreme metaphor for the intimacy of control.

And thus horror and romance are inextricably linked. Perhaps I’m just naïve, but I’d never heard of any of this before, and frankly I wish I never had.

So yes, people crave intimacy. It’s no longer looking so strange that the romance genre sells so many books. I mean, people are looking for the fulfillment of deep drives and desires which are sometimes hard to fulfill in the real world. Romance in stories—whether in a full-blown romance novel or in the majority of stories which merely contain a romantic element—helps frustrated readers of all stripes come to terms with the state of their own mundane lives.

Horror works the same way, by giving cathartic rise to the dark places inside us all and letting us (or perhaps forcing us to) confront them. Murder specifically—and death in general—is powerful precisely because it touches us in horrifyingly intimate ways. It’s no shock that the best works of fiction combine all these emotions and feelings to get a rise out of us—and understanding these connections can make us all better writers and observers of the human condition.

Having the Self Awareness to Horrify Others

I write short stories to experiment with new genres and techniques. Last August, I caught wind of an anthology that was opening for submissions. However, the genre, horror, was largely beyond my experience.  I had read a few books, watched a number of movies, and even written a piece or two, but I was still stepping outside my comfort zone. Perfect! I brainstormed, scanning my consciousness for an idea that was shiny enough to start with that I could polish it into a true gem.

My inner eye first turned to the bestiary, drudging up images inspired by the abominations of Lovecraft, the near satirical creatures of B-rated movies and creeping things that I had imagined living in the shadows as a child. I paired monsters with characters, with milieus and with plots, searching for tension and conflict. I worked my way through what felt like dozens of combinations, fleshing out a few, but discarding most. Everything still felt flat, unexciting and unoriginal.

Frustrated, I stood up from my computer and wandered, trying to figure out where I was going wrong. The monsters I was creating were as good as any I had ever read, seen or made up myself. There was nothing inherently wrong with any of the elements I had assembled, and yet, I was not having a strong emotional reaction. How could I expect anyone else to feel when I did not?

As I prefer my horror in the form of movies, I turned to my collection, flipping through the pages of disks, looking for the echo of emotion that the remembrance of a truly good horror inspires. Das Experiment. Mr. Brooks. Untracable. Pathology. Of all my movies, these four psychological thrillers inspired the strongest reactions of anticipation and fear, the same emotions I sought to evoke in my readers.

For me, it was the difference of conscious intent. The creatures I had imagined were beasts, acting on instinct or hunger. The villains I had admired and feared were rational and extremely intelligent, acting for a variety of motives but all with horrifying cruelty and viciousness. It was the actions of humans and the human mind that I feared more than the brutality of beasts.

I spent hours over the following weeks considering what horrified me, coming up with a number of story ideas that I feel are gems in need of polishing.  The difference for me was self-awareness. I found that I could not write something truly horrifying to others until I could first horrify myself.