[This is Part 4 in a 4-part series, based on an article of mine in The New Writer's Handbook 2007.]

To this point, I’ve discussed pros and cons in getting published with a small press. Now . . . how to find the right match.

GENERAL ADVICE

Set realistic goals.
Know why you want to be published. To see your work in print? To have control over your work? To become rich or famous? To make a living as a writer? To break in? To make a difference in the world?

Realistic goals will help you decide if you want to work with a particular small press. Make this part of your discussions with a potential publisher.

Be prepared to be a partner in marketing your title.
Can you deliver specific ideas or contacts with specialty magazines, newsletters, conferences, bookstores, interest groups, professional associations? Can you contact some yourself with review copies or PR info? Get on a local radio show or arrange signings near your home or in places you travel to on vacation?

Be prepared to help out with grassroots marketing, from joining key associations to developing a blogsite to mentioning your book to that person sitting next to you at the dentist office.

Plan subsequent work in your subject area.
Perhaps your niche is writing about Japanese zen gardens or Western novels. Your first book may gather good reviews and decent sales. If so, many readers would love to see a another book by you. So would your publisher. (Don’t try to sell multiple works off the bat – a publisher won’t be ready for that, and you might later want to move elsewhere; just make this part of your personal planning and general discussions with a publisher.)

Do your research to find the right publisher.
Finding the right match is like getting married. Don’t jump at the first opportunity if it doesn’t seem ideal. And don’t court a publisher as a one-sided effort; find one that wants you as much as you want them.

THE SEARCH PROCESS

Visit your library.
One major resource is Literary Market Place — the leading directory of the book trade. (It requires a press to publish at least 3 books a year to be listed.) The bible for smaller and edgier presses is the International Directory of Little Magazines and Small Presses (Dustbooks), also available in your library.

Look for publishers in your immediate locale, state, or region.
Do a web search for book publishers in your area. A local publisher might be more open to your proposal. Why? Because they have existing contacts with regional stores, newspapers, and reviewers that will have some interest in you as a local author.

Check the Independent Book Publishers Association.
Formerly known as Publishers Marketing Association, they have a membership of more than 4,000 small publishers, from microscopic to heavy hitters like Sourcebooks. Look for publishers with awards, good websites, great cover designs, clear niches, etc. Publishers join to get access to IBPA’s marketing programs to libraries and stores, which is good for an author.

Check the Council of Literary Magazines and Publishers.
Because there are dues involved, and member services, and some screening or review process, membership in a professional trade organization tends to be a good starting point in any search.

Join organizations for writers.
Associations like the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) or the Romance Writers of America (RWA) – or any of the other national organizations for specific types of writers – maintain detailed lists of publishers. Membership gives you access to insider info and interviews, workshops, and valuable networking.

Check the web; check your bookstore.
For nonfiction publishers, search the Web for listings using your subject area, plus key words like press, publishers, or book(s).

Another good method is to scan your library or bookstore shelves for the names of publishers who have published books similar to yours. Bookstores carry more new titles, and so will be more useful than library collections if you want to see what’s being published now.

Examine similar books closely. Do they include illustrations? Charts? Extensive appendices of resources? Make sure your own book proposal includes those.

Publisher websites.
Finally, many publishers have websites with writer guidelines, or you can check annual guides like Writer’s Market that list publishers by category, with summaries of what they publish and how to contact them.

HOW TO CHECK OUT A SMALL PRESS

Study their most recent catalog (print or online).
How do they describe their books? (This will give outstanding hints on what the publishers like and what they think the buyers will like!) How much catalog space do they devote to new books and also to backlist (which your book will become soon after it is released).

A very, very important question: Is this a group of authors and titles you want to be associated with? Will it reflect well on you and boost your prestige? You will be judged by the company you keep.

Do they have a good distributor?
A good distributor has the punch to get a book out to more stores if demand warrants it. Influential ones include National Book Network (Lanham, MD) and Independent Publishers Group (Chicago). There are others that handle varied other distribution needs.

And good distributors are picky; they don’t want to work with fly-by-night presses or ones that publish occasionally or unevenly.

Look for a steady presence in your niche market.
This can be ads in specialty publication or regular booths at important conferences. If you have written a science-fiction novel, for instance, check the magazines – Locus, Asimov’s, etc. – to see who is actively advertising. Would you rather be with a publisher that runs lots of large ads? . . . occasional small ads? . . . a classified listing in the back? . . . or no ads at all? The answer should be clear.

Once you enter discussions with a small press, ask for details on the most similar project.
How many copies did they sell? Over what time period? How did they do that? What kind of mailings, ads, and special activities did they undertake to achieve success? You want to ferret out more than just: “We’ve sold 20,000 copies of our best title.” As the warning phrase says, “Your actual experience might vary.”

Seek some details. Although a press may not share every scrap of info, they should be able to give some sense of what has worked best and why.

Look for genuine chemistry and enthusiasm.
Yes, it’s hard to quantify, but you’ll know it when you see it: a publisher that is truly excited by your work and really wants to do their best to make it a success.

What financial commitment is the publisher making?
What exactly will they commit to a project? A decent advance? Promises to place ads in key publications? Lots of postcards or bookmarks you can mail and hand out? This may not appear in your contract, but you can discuss it and get it planned, written down, and agreed to in advance. The more “skin in the game” a publisher has, the greater their vested interest in making your book succeed.

KEEP YOUR FUTURE OPTIONS OPEN

Like all relationships, while hoping for the best, it’s prudent to be prepared for the worst. You may wish to limit the rights, or the time frame of the contract, or not include subsequent works. If things go well, you can extend the relationship.

As the project moves forward, trust but verify. Keep in touch. Don’t be a pest, but don’t sit on your hands. Ask what’s happening with production, release plans, promotions, and once launched, with sales. Best of all, ask how you can help!

For any author wanting to reach a niche audience, or wanting to break into print to get some good reviews and a sales history, then to seek to move up the ladder, small presses can be a great stepping stone.

Or a match made in heaven.

[Disclaimer: yes, I currently run a small indie press, Crickhollow Books. For more on that effort, visit the Crickhollow Books website.]

[This is Part 3 in a 4-part series, based on an article of mine in The New Writer's Handbook 2007.]

Let’s look at things that can be real problems in getting a book published with a small independent presses.

Minimal Advances
Small often means just that when it comes to advances. The up-front money handed over to an author before books hit the streets can be microscopic, from virtually nil to a few thousand dollars. Small presses often point out they prefer to put their cash into promotions. However, this creates more risk for the author, who must wait for elusive future royalties, without the guaranteed income of a decent advance.

Lack of Prestige
A small-press label may offer little or no name recognition. Unfortunately, many people assume that a book published by a small press wasn’t good enough to be published by a larger press. You tell people you have been published, but when you tell them by whom, they get a funny look on their faces, different than if you had said Random House.

Small Marketing Budgets
Marketing budgets are rarely big. Smaller presses rely heavily on low-cost promotions: sending review copies, courting word-of-mouth support from niche audiences.

In the bookstore world, a small-press label tips off a buyer that there is probably less money for store placement or co-op efforts or PR campaigns to drive readers quickly into stores. Accordingly, small-press books are less likely to get prime placement—if stocked at all. Too often a small-press book needs to be special-ordered by a bookstore if a customer takes the trouble to request it.

All publishing houses, large and small, rely on authors playing some role in marketing. Authors need to consider the time, money, and effort of developing a author platform (in advance) and then using that platform to fuel sales in the author’s sphere of influence.

The same is true for author-involved marketing that can occur after a book’s release: book launches, author signings, mini-tours, being a speaker or having a booth at a regional trade show or conference. Most of those will only happen if authors do the booking and pay their own way.

For any size of press, authors need to be a partner in marketing a book, but more so with small presses. The good news: small presses will gladly work closely with you. But they may have little cash and a small staff, and this will limit what they can do.

Meager Reserves
Small can mean slow to publish or slow to pay. With fewer titles in a hopper, any setback (on any title, not just yours) can affect the whole line, if the press doesn’t have enough cash reserves. A small press has less likelihood of the occasional bestseller, creating revenues that can cover a lot of overhead and make the whole business profitable.

Small presses, especially the micro-presses, have any number of things that can throw them off stride: illness striking a tiny staff, an owner with personal financial difficulties, a poor decision to expand that isn’t well planned.

Small presses also may be at greater risk from problems occurring elsewhere in the distribution/sales chain. Famous examples: the occasional closings of middlemen distributors, leaving the smallest presses in chaos and with the smallest amount of clout in negotiating a settlement to recover income or inventory.

Of course, authors published by big presses also have horror stories. These include cases of questionable accounting, mysterious deductions, editors leaving abruptly, or projects getting cancelled. They may be more prone to back-office politics or sudden changes in management philosophy, compared to the steady operations of a well-run, focused small press.

And even good-sized publishing houses occasionally go belly-up. But the business or the titles are often acquired by someone else; this creates headaches for an author, but less risk of a total collapse.

All in all, the slimmer resources of a small press are definitely a concern for authors. As with most comparisons of small vs. large, working with a smaller business gets you more attention, bigger clout with that business, and possibly a more informed and interactive relationship. But there are plenty of unavoidable negatives to consider.

[Next in this series: Getting Published with a Small Indie Press: How To Find the Right Press for You]

Disclaimer: yes, I currently run a small indie press, Crickhollow Books. For more on that effort, visit the Crickhollow Books website.

[This is Part 2 in a 4-part series, based on an article of mine in The New Writer's Handbook 2007.]

Let’s look at things that good-quality, small independent presses do well for writers.

Risk-Taking
They often take risks on new or unconventional writers. They look for work with literary or social value, or useful to a specialized niche, rather than demanding a more common denominator (such as being similar to other work already published, or appealing to a very large demographic, or having the elusive compelling author platform already in place). They may read relevant submissions more carefully. And they might consider offbeat submissions, something larger presses seldom do. Sometimes, a small press will stretch itself to reach into a new area if they get a great manuscript, realizing an author might bring new audiences into their fold.

Grassroots Niche Marketing
The better ones do creative publicity, using low-cost, grassroots guerrilla tactics. They seek reviews with small but respected publications, send catalogs to regional or specialty shops, attend professional conferences. They get books adopted for university courses. They try harder and longer to reach specialized audiences, whether organic gardeners or feminist mystery fans or Hispanic-speaking families of the American Southwest or Christian homeschoolers, and often develop long-term relationships with those communities. Their familiarity with a niche audience can in turn provide useful feedback to develop a good book project, with more detailed information about what that audience wants and needs.

Editorial Involvement
A good small press may provide lots of hands-on editorial support to help an author who has a special story to tell or a great concept, even if the manuscript needs a bit of extra work. Large presses can sit back and reject promising but unpolished work, waiting for the ready-to-go, easy-to-sell manuscript. But quality small presses are generally known for their editorial accessibility and hands-on support.

Open to an Author’s Diversity
Small presses might publish work by an established author who wishes to branch out into a new field. Joseph Bruchac’s popular children’s books of Native legends are published by major presses like Harcourt, Philomel, and Dial, but he turned to a small press, Holy Cow! Press of Duluth, Minn., to publish his poetry. Other well-known authors like Ursula K. Le Guin or Jane Yolen have chosen in their illustrious careers to publish an occasional book with a smaller press to get worthwhile work out into the light of day.

Patience
Small presses may shepherd a slow-developing title longer as it reaches for its grassroots readership, which can take time, especially in fields where success may depend on a particular annual conference, a quarterly journal, or a post-publication blurb from an influential person. Tenaciously, they stay on the case, seeking publicity and sales long after big presses would move on to greener pastures. In contrast, large presses are famous for Darwinian tactics: publishing lots of titles, throwing them out to the wolves of the trade, then waiting to see which books do well quickly, fully prepared to pull resources from slow-to-develop titles.

Loyalty
Small presses tend to be loyal to their authors. Once they have invested their slim resources to develop an author and explore niche audiences, they look favorably on subsequent work by that author. They may do this even if a first title had only modest success, to sell more copies of that earlier title as well as to expand their foothold in small markets.

As Susan Vreeland, author of Girl in Hyacinth Blue, summarized her very successful experience getting published with an excellent indie press: “For a first-time author, working with a small publisher can be a boon. A personal relationship with staff members representing all aspects of the publishing process develops quickly. With a small house publishing only a few books each season, individual authors are very important people. I found that the entire staff of MacMurray & Beck got behind Girl in Hyacinth Blue, believed in me, celebrated each good review with me, and was profoundly happy at its success.

[Next in this series: Getting Published with a Small Indie Press: The Negatives]

Disclaimer: yes, I currently run a small indie press, Crickhollow Books. For more on that effort, visit the Crickhollow Books website.

[This is Part 1 in a 4-part series, based on an article of mine in The New Writer's Handbook 2007.]

Small presses offer opportunities for new or different authors. As we said in the ’60s: small is beautiful. Literary, adventurous, or tightly focused, small presses routinely take chances on new authors who have some thing important to say. And through the democracy of the Internet and guerrilla marketing tactics, they may have a decent shot at financial success, major awards, and media attention with select titles.

Or not.

It can be just the right thing for you. But how do you know?

First, what is a typical small press? “Typical” is not really applicable to this diverse universe. There are thousands of independent presses, as different as cats and dogs and armadillos. They may reflect the personality of a single person working out of a home office. Others have grown into a corporate entities with real offices with potted plants.

Some have been around for decades, others for just a few years. Each year a good number disappear, but many new ones rise to take their place.

A tiny micro-press might publish only one or two books a year. Others might release a dozen or more titles a season. First printings tend to be modest, from a digital Print-on-Demand (POD) approach that only prints books as needed, ranging to runs of 3,000–5,000 copies.

Their editorial goals range from presenting “new voices” to publishing worthwhile books overlooked by big publishers because they didn’t fit somebody’s business plan. Small presses create titles from avocado cookbooks to zoo activity guides, and everything in between.

The name of the game for indie presses: “find the niche.”

In total, these myriad presses are responsible for publishing many of the astounding number of of new titles (more than 100,000 titles each year!) flooding into the American marketplace.

Most prefer the term “independent press” over “small press,” to emphasize their uniqueness. They don’t like to think of their ambitions or literary talents being diminutive in any sense.

However, small press is the term I will use here to focus on the realities of working with most of these publishers: small staff, limited resources.

Given this tremendous diversity, what should you expect when dealing with a small press?

[Next in this series: Getting Published with a Small Indie Press: The Positives]

Disclaimer: yes, I currently run a small indie press, Crickhollow Books. For more on that effort, visit the Crickhollow Books website.

Is self-publishing a short-cut to fame . . . or a short-circuit?

Here’s a bit of tough love for novelists. I’ll give you four good reasons not to self-publish your novel. Instead, stick it in a drawer! Better things might happen to you if you do.

First, I’m not a big fan of self-publishing as a great option for most writers. When you hear success stories . . . remember: your actual results may vary!

But writers are hopeful and by their nature persistent. Novel writers, especially so. After a zillion hours slaving at a keyboard, what if your novel sits unpublished, on a shelf or forlorn inside your computer?

Self-publish! many will say. But below are some counter-arguments, why deciding not to publish a novel may lead to more positive outcomes.

Yes, it’s nice to be able to tell friends that you are a “published author.” If this is what you desire most, then certainly you may put up your own money to publish your own book.

Yes, others have self-published; a few have even achieved fame and fortune. But it is also the source of a tremendous amount of sub-par writing – work that is poorly edited, meandering, overblown, inconsistent.

Frankly, because of the quality problems in the self-publishing world, most book buyers (individuals or stores) are not going to look for their next purchase in the ranks of POD novels. There may be lovely, shining needles in those literary haystacks; your novel may be one of them. But if someone wants a needle, let’s be honest, there are easier ways to find one than searching through gigantic mounds of moldy hay. Most readers will look elsewhere.

So even if your novel is well-written, self-publishing it will likely throw disappointment in your face. You may sell only a few dozen copies, plus those you give to friends and relatives.

To complicate the matter, there are those who gain from encouraging you to publish to “fulfill your dream.” Magazines and the Internet abound with ads, rich with tales of writers who have succeeded in this way. The advertised services have a vested interest in encouraging you to print your work, whether this is best for your career or not. So their ads suggest grand things ahead if you are bold and ambitious. Take advantage of the wonders of POD! It’s cool, it’s modern, it gives you control. Publish your work, and it is “available worldwide!”

But let’s think a bit more deeply about your choices and likely outcomes. Take a moment to look at some positives . . . if you set it aside. Consider how you might benefit by deciding to stick an unpublished novel in a drawer.

1. You can give it a long rest. A sojourn from endless tinkering can offer a fresh perspective later, an insight to fix a fatal flaw. Too often, beginning writers undermine their work by reworking it too often; such manuscripts might have been saved if set aside, then returned to later . . . much later, when your skills have advanced!

2. You can recycle pieces. If a work is unpublished, you can freely recycle major elements: characters, plot twists, dialogue, anything. If you’ve gone ahead and published it, you can’t. Many beginning authors write first novels with lots of good pieces. But overall, the work just doesn’t form a compelling whole. But certain elements – an engaging character, a plot twist, a wonderful scene – can invigorate a next new work. (A good bit of your first novel might even become a secondary plot within your next novel.)

3. You can pitch it later. If you write new work that’s accepted for publication, you have a great opportunity to pitch earlier works to your editor. Why? He or she now has a relationship with you, an investment in your name. Naturally, that editor might be receptive to earlier works. Even if those works are flawed, a supportive editor might suggest useful changes. Of course, you have improved tremendously as a writer and now can see ways to fix that earlier work!

4. You can keep the fire in your belly alive. Consider how most successful writers achieved their greatness. Rarely did they get their first work published! Instead, they wrote and wrote . . . and agonized when those first attempts didn’t get published. But they persisted to write new material that carried them to fame. If they had published that first, likely inferior work, it might have proved a detriment, even a blight on their career. Worst of all, it might have dissipated their drive to write something better.

Instead, push yourself to improve. Many unpublished writers are very good writers, but just need to learn to craft a better story – with a more appealing hook, richer characters, a tighter plot.

Don’t get stuck. Start a second work. Keep multiple projects underway; it’s a professional practice that will pay off. Work hard on manuscripts, but understand the difference between persistence and obsession.

Desire to write a new and better work. Create new characters, dramatic scenes, compelling premises. Interweave more small stories and sub-plots. Let your writing skills mature.

This article doesn’t tell you when to stick a novel in a drawer and move on to the next work. But don’t self-publish work if it doesn’t live up to the reasonably high demands of the outside world. Avoid a petulant stubbornness to prove the world wrong . . . by publishing it yourself.

Consider that decision in light of your overall career path. What’s best for you if you want to become a successful writer?

Writing a first work that remains unpublished – a beloved first manuscript reluctantly put aside to begin your next exciting project – is a real and meaningful rite of passage.

[For more articles on related topics for writers, or to sign up for my free Writing Tips email newsletter, visit www.greatlakeslit.com.]

We’re approaching The Curve.

That’s how I think of the end of the calendar year (just a few weeks away!). Is New Year’s Eve really the start of something as new as a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes?

In my mind, it’s a continuation. We round the curve and see a new landscape. But it’s one that’s been there all along; it wasn’t created in the moment of the ringing of the New Year’s bells.

To make a successful turn means . . . braking a bit, so you can see the terrain and be ready for what’s around the bend. But maintaining good forward momentum.

(Some curves are nicely banked as we speed through them. Others have surprises!)

I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s Resolutions. They seldom succeed, perhaps because they are based on a false sense of newness. I like continuation. (Which includes constant but small, sustainable change.)

And as a Midwesterner, late November and the spirit of Thanksgiving really kicks off my desire to look at my life and resolutions. Why wait till January 1? Now’s the time to build up the right momentum to see you smoothly around The Curve.

(Do I have enough wood chopped and stacked to see me through? Am I the cricket, fiddling and hopeful as the first snows fall, or the ant filling the storehouse with abundance?)

I took a minute to look back at the purpose behind this blog, launched on February 13, to expand on my mission as the series editor of The New Writer’s Handbook to help more writers build a successful writing career, step by step. At the core is my belief: if we write well, we can make a real difference.

I closed that first post with a message from Ralph Waldo Emerson:

“Words are also actions, as actions are a kind of words.”

Preparing to round the corner, here are more thoughts on that basic issue: why do we write?

“One can never pay in gratitude: one can only pay ‘in kind’ somewhere else in life.”
– Anne Morrow Lindbergh

“I feel we are all islands – in a common sea.”
– Anne Morrow Lindbergh

“Do not try to push your way through to the front ranks of your profession; do not run after distinctions and rewards; but do your utmost to find an entry into the world of beauty.”
– Sydney Smith (English essayist and clergyman, 1771-1845)

“An aim in life is the only fortune worth finding. And it is not to be found in foreign lands, but in the heart itself.”
- Robert Lewis Stevenson

“We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while. How long is it since you were really bothered? About something important, about something real?”
– Ray Bradbury

Let me close by sharing wonderful words from a colleague, Bruce Holland Rogers, who wrote a great essay, “On Being a Minor Writer,” found in part in The New Writer’s Handbook 2007 and also available for 49 cents here from Amazon Shorts. (I also highly recommend his book, Word Work: Surviving and Thriving as a Writer.)

We are writers, not profit centers. We live in the world of numbers, but we can choose to remember that the world of numbers is all made up. It’s one way of seeing things, but not the only way.  . . . We can choose where our focus is. Jesus said, “Be in the world, but be not of it.” Buddhism instructs us to be awake, but to live without attachment. Other great religions remind us of this same thing. We must do our business in the marketplace, but not confuse the marketplace with the Supreme, with our ultimate purpose.

Measurement, comparing one degree of success with another, keeps us apart.  . . . But we’re not so different, whether we’ve made the bestseller list or are still seeking our first sale. We’re all of us minor writers. Our measurements don’t matter nearly as much as our immeasurable contributions. Measuring keeps us from living in full communion with one another and the world.

Preoccupation with measuring, with seeing how your career stacks up, steals time from making your contribution. Making your contribution, your deepest offering to readers, means that you don’t try to impress, but only to reveal the impressive thing beneath your work: the language, the subject matter, or whatever it is that you love. Love something, and then get out of the way so that from the side you can point to what you love. That’s how you contribute.

What will you contribute in the coming year? What will be your deepest offering to readers?

That’s my Thanksgiving thought . . . thanks to all those writers sharing their words with the world.

News flash! My latest project, The New Writer’s Handbook, Vol. 2, is just hitting the streets.

The New Writer's Handbook, Vol. 2

(By “streets,” I mean the polished hardwood shelves of your favorite indie bookstore just around the corner . . . or the mocha-loving halls of big chain booksellers (Barnes & Noble or Borders, for instance) . . . or the ethereal Amazonian shelves of Internet bookstores.)

If you’re new to this blog, or didn’t grab the first volume released in Fall 2007, what is the Handbook?

It’s my vision of how we writers might share best advice (yes, through my selective lens) for our craft and career, in a concise, not overblown fashion (short pieces, with concentrated nuggets of useful thoughts), in a reasonably priced paperback ($16.95) and with lots of points of view (65 articles).

I’ve always seen it as an annual refresher, a professional-development seminar in a book. Much of the book might be most useful to early-stage, emerging writers, but a good number of pieces I think are useful and thought-provoking for experienced writers as well.

My goal: that any writer would find at least one piece here that would really make a difference in their writing career in the coming year . . . and a good number of other pieces that would help improve their results in many small ways.

(And many professional writers also need teachable ideas to share with students and apprentice writers . . . so this Handbook also serves as a pretty good teaching tool.)

But, as my motto goes: the proof is in the pudding. I believe books shouldn’t be over-hyped, that readers are the only judge of how useful a book is to them and their specific needs. As Mark Twain said,

Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg cackles as if she laid an asteroid.

I’ll do a few posts in coming days with more glimpses of this year’s contents, to help you decide if this book is one that can help you.

In the end, I hope you’ll consider picking up a copy of this year’s New Writer’s Handbook and will use it to become a better writer.

And as always, let me know if there’s any other way I can help you in achieving your writing goals.

I’ve been reading several biographies of the peerless Dr. Seuss, and realized how gifted he was . . . not just in the field of children’s literature but also as a practitioner of personal branding for writers.

If you’re like me, you grew up with Green Eggs and Ham, Hop on Pop, The Cat in the Hat, Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose, and all the other zany creatures, places, and situations devised by this master of the rhyming, readable children’s book.

Pick up any Dr. Seuss book, even one you haven’t opened before, and you have a good inkling of what you’re going to get. And each book delivers. This is the essence of branding.

In a Seuss book, you expect:

Rollicking, read-out-loud rhymes. Smile-inducing lines that stick in our heads for years: “I do not like them in a box. I do not like them with a fox. I do not like them in a house. I do not like them with a mouse. I do not like them here or there. I do not like them anywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-am.” From Green Eggs and Ham, of course.)

A memorable, intriguing pen name. Seuss was Ted Geisel’s middle name, his Germanic mother’s family name. It originally rhymed with “voice,” but later was Americanized to rhyme with “juice.”) The “doctor” part was an imaginary self-awarded accolade, something he’d never earned in school. It combined one part respectability, one part the wacky world of a patent-medicine quack.

A delightful overdose of imagination unleashed. Seuss wrote and drew a pantheon of imaginative creatures and landscapes, the likes of which we’d never seen before (no one knew what a Grinch was before Seuss showed us his nasty, conniving, easily irritated soul).

A plain but playful vocabulary. A Seuss book tosses words joyfully back and forth like a jump-rope chant, with pleasure in silly sounds, multiple meanings, and odd associations of words that rhyme or just pop out.

In the end, a moral to the story. Geisel said that in a story, there are only two choices: the good guys win or the evil ones win. He made sure the good ones did, so Thidwick wanders off a happy moose, his goodness intact after his antlers fell off, while his selfish freeloading friends get their comeuppance.

All this adds up to Geisel/Seuss having become one of the most successful children’s book authors of all time.

Born Theodore Seuss Geisel in a German-American family in Springfield, Mass., he attended Dartmouth, then England’s Oxford, but was more passionate for classroom doodles and comic quips than for serious academic studies. He came of age in 1920s, the clever-quipping, convention-breaking era of the flapper. After graduation, he plunged into the advertising business in New York City, submitting cartoons and writing jingles. His big break-through was a jingle for bug-spray: “Quick, Henry, the Flit!” The short tag-line was the core of a 17-year campaign; it became embedded in the American consciousness, a line used by radio comedians like Jack Benny for a quick laugh. Branding at its best.

So like many successful writers, Geisel thought hard and professionally about how to capture people’s attention and imagination quickly. And in his books, he knew how to talk about important subjects: friendship, exploring the world, telling the truth, doing the right thing.

(And like many, he also had to endure some bad reviews, such as a letter received from a convict on death row in Texas. It read, “If your stuff is the kind of thing they’re publishing nowadays, I don’t so much mind leaving.” Ouch! Ted kept the letter.)

One of his masterpieces, The Cat in the Hat, grew out of a challenge from a friend and publisher, William Spaulding of Houghton Mifflin. Following the public furor of a popular book, Why Johnny Can’t Read, Spaulding presented a challenge to Geisel: write a book for young readers using only 225 words of basic vocabulary, a list he provided.

It wasn’t easy. It was like trying to make, Geisel said, “strudel without any strudels.” But he stuck with it, and eventually the wily cat with the goofy hat and his canny cohorts, Thing One and Thing Two, came into the world to delight and enchant generations of young readers.

Laura Backes of Children’s Book Insider wrote, in a wonderful article, “What Dr. Seuss Can Teach Us” (reprinted in The New Writer’s Handbook 2007), why The Cat in the Hat not only encouraged kids to read but offered a new kind of literature:

It also changed how children’s book authors learned to write. Instead of telling a thin story based on a simple, everyday incident, Seuss packed the plot with action that escalated on every page. Rather than relying on one-note characters, he populated his book with quirky, complex and surprising personalities that didn’t always cooperate with one another, thus creating tension and conflict.

I highly recommend the biography, Dr. Seuss & Mr. Geisel, by journalists Judith and Neil Morgan, for wonderful insight on how Geisel’s successful techniques in marketing himself and growing a career. He invented a new brand of children’s book. And he built it one book at a time, thinking about young readers and what they liked to read, think about, imagine.

Myself, I never imagine a Dr. Seuss book except as a well-worn slim volume, held in my own hands as I read it to my kid brother . . . enjoying each page, again and again, as much as he did.

The books of Dr. Seuss are reliable in delivering a distinctive product: a combination of bright imagination, flowing rhymes, crazy critters, and a sense of what kids really like to read.

Now that’s branding.

Behold, the fool saith, “Put not all thine eggs in the one basket”
– which is but a manner of saying, “Scatter your money and your attention;”

but the wise man saith, “Put all your eggs in the one basket and
watch that basket.”

- Pudd’nHead Wilson (central character of the 1894 novel by Mark Twain/Samuel Clemens)

Why specialize as a professional writer? Samuel Clemens also wrote: “The ruin of any work is a divided interest. Concentrate – concentrate. One thing at a time.”

Specializing allows you to:

  • focus your creative energy
  • keep track of important details
  • build Rolodex and customer contacts
  • focus your marketing to a smaller audience
  • build your expertise, becoming more valuable to your clients

Many of us writers, myself in particular, are fundamentally interested in many, many things. Maybe too many. We want to see what’s behind every closed door. We hope to serve all potential clients. We think everyone should read everything we write.

Each new project, idea, or networking contact has a natural intrigue because of their freshness. There’s an excitement in tackling new, untraveled mountains to see if they can be climbed. When I was younger, I hitchhiked each summer to the Rockies, Grand Tetons, Sierra Nevadas, to explore the heights, often rambling solo through sun and storm like my hero, John Muir. My first published work, in fact, was a poem, published in a mountaineering magazine, based on experiencing a tremendous storm in the Tetons.

But I’ve learned over time that there’s much to be gained by walking the same path over and over. The trails through the ancient woods near my Milwaukee house, a magical place of towering beeches, maples, oaks, basswood trees called the Seminary Woods, are never, ever, the same. The place changes with the weather, the time of day, and the seasons. Not to mention with my moods and thoughts.

By walking the woods over and over, I get to know them really well. I discover the smaller trails. I find where the different types of spring ephemerals bloom: trout lilies, trillium, spring beauties, jack-in-the-pulpit, marsh marigolds, skunk cabbage, bloodroot. I discover the tree where the great horned owl lives, get to hear its call on the winged hunt.

For writers, learning to become a specialist will advance your career tremendously. It’s a core concept of personal branding.

For a great book on the subject, I recommend one I worked on as editor some years ago: Ready, Aim, Specialize!, by Kelly James-Enger. Her own career is exemplary. (Her other book, Six-Figure Freelancing, gives you an idea of her earning power – an income goal she achieved in her sixth year of freelance writing.)

Ready, Aim, Specialize!: Create Your Own Writing Specialty and Make More Money (2nd edition, Marion Street Press, 2007) teaches you the ins and outs of specializing. It includes:

  • 20 queries that nabbed assignments for new writers
  • Why to develop a niche of your own
  • The top ten writing specialties and how to break into each (health, parenting, home & garden, travel, business . . .)
  • How to better market your work; how to research and write more efficiently
  • How to find experts and data for articles in each of the ten areas

Check out either of Kelly’s book. Then, choose your basket, gather your eggs, and keep an eye on them. And think strategically about how to find the special goose that lays the golden egg for you.

Here’s a bit of advice on purchasing literary services: editing, publishing, marketing, anything.

The proof is in the pudding.

This is an old folk saying, especially dear to us in the Midwest. Hey, it’s even the motto of one Midwestern state: Show Me. (This Missouri motto is said to come from an 1899 speech by a congressman, Willard Vandiver: “I come from a country that raises corn and cotton, cockleburs and Democrats, and frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies me. I’m from Missouri, and you have got to show me.”)

In the Midwest, we scoff at “frothy eloquence,” commonly known as “hype.” (We prefer the low-key compliment: “It’s pretty good.” Or “I’ve seen worse.” Statements which my New York publishing friends think are hysterically cornball. But they really mean something to us. And in the Midwest, to overstate something often means you’re trying to cover up some problem.)

Hyperbole (in skid loads) is prevalent in the publishing industry. Sure, you’ll hear endless promises of great things (around the corner). How many back covers of books that claim an author is the next J.K. Rowling or Tom Clancy or whatever. Fact or wishful thinking?

Look at ads for self-publishing services. They tout amazing things (that happened to one person), implying that this could happen to you, too. Yes, and someone wins the lottery. Or gets struck by lightning.

Claims like your self-published book being instantly available (on demand) anywhere in the world are probably true, but inflated. Yes, being in an online database means anyone could in theory buy your book. But will they?

These ads should all include the fine print: Your actual experience may vary.

Substantially.

If you’re trying to find a literary agent, a publisher, a promotional service, feel very, very comfortable asking detailed questions. And look for forthcoming, personalized answers that are truly applicable to you. General statements are worth the paper they’re printed on.

Ask for actual results in cases very similar to yours. Then ask follow-up questions. Why were these examples chosen as similar? What did the service provider do to create those results? What was the most influential factor? Can you see references, testimonials, track record? What can the service provider specifically do to render similar results for you?

Even then, the proof is in the pudding. (Or maybe, in the Midwest, the proof is in the hotdish.)

So what can you do to protect yourself? Does your contract have escape clauses if you’re not happy with the service? Why not . . . if the service you’re engaging is so wonderful? Push and negotiate for ways to ensure specific activity, check results, and exit if things don’t go as you’ve been promised or (reasonably) should have occurred.

Yes, you’ll hear that “we need a long-term commitment because of all the work we’re going to put into this.” Yes, but if that work is mutually satisfactory, wouldn’t you naturally want to continue? Look at how often publishers’ “boiler-plate” contracts have lots of protections for the publisher . . . and few, if any, for the author, for real possible occurrences. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. I always recommend keeping as short a leash as possible on any new relationship, and see that the protections are equal for both parties in case of non-performance, until the pudding proof is satisfactory.)

If nothing else, can you do the work in phases? Start with a small, short-term contract, then extend it only if you’re satisfied.

The Origins of the Saying

Checking the origins of “the proof is in the pudding” saying, it’s credited to appearing in print in Cervantes’ Don Quixote. But, the sources go on (curiously similarly from one website to the next) to complain that the quote is woefully mis-quoted; that the original saying was: “The proof of the pudding is in the tasting.” The language purists go on to complain, ad nauseam, that the current shortened version is “corrupted” and lacking sense.

Come on. First, the identical complaint by so many websites probably just reveals how one picks up something from the next and parrots it.

And really. Doesn’t “the proof is in the pudding” work just fine? And is shorter. I’ve never been confused in the least what that means, nor has anyone I’ve said it to. What do they think we are getting muddled about? Maybe we think the proof is in the smelling of the pudding? In the tossing of the pudding against the wall? In taking a bath in it?

Here in the Midwest, we’re practical enough to know how to test a pudding. We taste it. And if it’s the best we ever ate, we say so.

It’s pretty good.