Mansions, margaritas and crocogators

Or: What I Did On My Holidays

So I've been busy for a while, what with the release of Impossible Things and (amongst a whole load of boring real life stuff) organising my trip to New Orleans for the RT Booklovers Convention. Oh, and writing my new book. I keep forgetting about that one.

Me, doing my best impression of the Chosen
at the Impossible Things launch

The book launch went really well: a great turn-out, a great evening, and we even raised over £100 for Guide Dogs for the Blind--which as anyone who's read Impossible Things will know, is tremendously relevant to the story.

I've also had some really lovely reviews for the book, including a C+ from Dear Author--which as any DA reader knows is pretty damn good! (hell, it's the highest grade I got on my A Levels, so I'm really not complaining)





And so to New Orleans! I've never been to the RT convention before--RWA, yes, several times, but not RT. I'd heard it was bigger and madder than RWA, which in turn is bigger and madder than any of the UK events I've been to. I'd heard right. But who could resist The Big Easy?

Not me! I spent a few days there, acclimatising--and not just to the weather, which threw everything in its tropical arsenal at us, thunderstorms included--and seeing the sights. What sights!

We stayed in the French Quarter, which I believe is the oldest part of New Orleans. Due to things like fire, flood and war, most of the buildings are only a couple of hundred years old--although one, Madam John's Legacy (the green-painted building with the white shutters) , is held to be the oldest building in the city, and has been used frequently for filming (Claudia's feeding frenzy in Interview With a Vampire, much of which was filmed in New Orleans; and more recently the slave auction in Twelve Years a Slave).

The French Quarter is home to Bourbon Street, which reminded me a bit of Austin's Sixth Street, and a bit of the Vegas Strip, and a bit of why New Orleans has a reputation as a party town! 

We toured the Laura Plantation, which was a fascinating recreation of a Creole plantation run by four generations of women. The house has been restored to the brightly painted Creole style, after it had been painted white when Louisiana tried to homogenise its culture.

We even went on a swamp tour, travelling through a bayou absolutely swimming with alligators. They were actually quite sweet--reminding of nothing so much as eager dogs moseying up for a treat. Our guide threw marshmallows into the water to get their attention--gators will investigate anything white on the surface, which is why if you ever knock a golf ball into a swamp, you should probably just leave it there.

I even got to hold a baby gator--well, a 5yr old. Her mouth was taped, because an alligator has very weak muscles for opening her mouth. They're all about snapping it shut!

 

We toured the Garden District, which is terribly beautiful, full of wide avenues and the most envy-inducing mansions. The main shopping streets have a relaxed, artsy atmosphere, with brewpubs and indie shops.

We travelled on a streetcar--no, it wasn't called Desire, but there did used to be a line running to Desire Street, which is where Mr Williams got his title from.







 New Orleans is famous for its above-ground cemeteries--well, if you lived somewhere with a water table that high you wouldn't bury people underground, either! St Louis No.1 is one of the most famous, and it's right in the middle of the city.







Another thing the city is known for is the motto: Laissez le bon temps roulez! And staying about twenty yards from Bourbon Street, we did just that with a drink or two...

 ...or three...

 ...or four...

...or five...

And finally onto the convention! Where, alas, I was far too busy to take pictures, but here someone was kind enough to take one of the Choc Lit team. L-R: Christina Courtenay, Sue Moorcroft, me, Liz Harris, Janet Gover, and a friendly bookseller!

I also presented my first ever workshop: Some Assembly Required: A Whedonite's Guide to Characterisation, which with the help of my good friend JT Bock, went really well! Over the next few days I'll put up some of my notes from it.

Phew! Now, I think to get over that I might be in need of a little holiday...

Kate's top ten writing conference survival tips

As I may have mentioned, I've recently returned from the RNA's annual conference. Next week, I believe it's the RWA's turn. Although I'm not attending RWA this year, I've been four times before, and seven times to the RNA. So, here are my top tips on conference survival...

1. Shoes.

Romantic novelists are obsessed with shoes. There, I've said it. I even put it as number one. All right, so some of it is my fault, for turning up to my first RNA do in purple satin diamante heels (pause for sigh of nostalgia) and a sort of escalation whereby I wore sillier creations every time I met my writer friends. At most events, the first thing people say to me is, "Show me your shoes!" I mean, it really is. Not even "Hello," or "You look hungover." The RNA blog has a whole post on conference shoes.

However. There is a lot of walking and standing to do at these things. The RNA conferences are much smaller, but the RWA events are freaking massive and you can walk for miles in those hotel conference centres. I'm not exaggerating. In Washington DC the hotel was so huge it would take me twenty minutes to get from my room to some of the workshops. That's a mile (and I'm actually a pretty fast walker).

My RNA conference gala dinner shoes. I loves them, my precious...

So. Take some pretty shoes. But don't feel you have to wear them all the time. My advice? Put a pair of flats in your bag and use them for most of your walking around. You know, like in Working Girl (only maybe a bit prettier). In this, ballerina shoes are your friend. I have some devilishly pretty ones and they've saved my feet more times than I can count. Also, don't underestimate those gel inserts for the ball of your foot, and take plenty of sticking plasters, especially if you're out walking in the heat (more on that later).

But please don't just wear sensible shoes. It makes me sad when I see people wearing shoes that are just sensible, and not any sort of fun. Not even coloured, or with any decoration. It makes your feet sad, too. That's why they hurt, you know.

2. Clothes

Wear them. Haha. No, okay, let's be serious. I'm not going to tell you what to wear, give you a packing list that contains things I don't even own (capris and a cute shirt--give me a break). The first conferences I went to, I was 23 and terrified of not being taken seriously. I dressed up way more than was necessary. I had a natty little pink tweed suit, it was adorable, I felt like Lady Penelope from Thunderbirds (and about as natural). I didn't feel like myself. After that, I started wearing clothes that felt more, well, like me. Okay, I admit I spend quite a large portion of my day in pyjamas, and after that it's some variation on jeans and a t-shirt. I'd go a little fancier than that for a public appearance.

Because don't forget: this IS a public appearance. Wherever you are on the scale of first-unpublished-draft to multi-published author, you're going to these events because this is something you're taking seriously as a career. You're meeting other authors, publishing professionals such as editors, agents, booksellers and librarians, and quite probably a fair few members of the public. And think carefully about those members of the public. When they see you cross the lobby of the Marriott, proudly wearing your RWA namebadge, do you want them to think, "Hey that woman looks like a slob. I never thought much of romance writers in the first place," or "Hey that woman looks stylish and professional. Maybe romance writers aren't as stupid as I'd thought." Up to you.

3. Hair and make-up

See above re: clothes. It's really the same principle as above. Respect the people you're meeting and don't turn up looking like you've just fallen out of bed. Or like you're going out clubbing.

Oh, and go easy on the perfume. Two thousand women in one room all wearing clashing scents is enough to bring on a real attack of the vapours. But don't, I beg you, go easy on the deodorant.

4. Climate

This is a funny one, because these conferences are usually held in summer, and as anyone on this side of the Pond knows, we haven't had one here in Blighty. I travelled to Penrith this year in my old brown boots, with a rainproof cape in my suitcase pocket. And an umbrella. And a winter jumper. I used them all.

However, RWA conferences tend to be held in much warmer climates. The first one I went to was in Reno, in July. They might as well have held it on the sun. This year it's in Anaheim, not known for its drizzle. So if you're attending, and you intend to poke your head out of doors, wear clothes that'll keep you cool, and remember the sunscreen.

Thank God I remembered the sunscreen in DC...

And remember that these huge hotels are airconditioned to within an inch of their lives. I mean you could freeze water in some of these venues. So maybe a jacket or cardigan, or your faithful winter jumper, might be a good idea.


5. Stationery

Take a notepad. A big one. And several pens. You will take LOTS of notes.

Did I mention pens? When you meet your absolute favourite author and pluck up the courage to ask her to autograph your absolute favourite book, don't expect her to have a pen. She might not have read my advice.

Business cards. You should have some. They don't have to be fancy, you can get perfectly decent ones from Vistaprint for not very much at all, but they should have your name, pen name if you have one, and maybe some kind of note about what sort of books you write. "Jane Bloggs, author of historical romance" is just fine. Your email must go on there, and blog or website address if you have one. If you tweet, consider adding that. Phone number is up to you. I hate talking on the phone so rarely give out my number, but that's just me. Remember if you're going transatlantic to put the international dialling code on there too (if you have a British phone number, it's +44, and you drop the first zero, ie: instead of 01234 567890 it's +44 1234 567890).

6. Goody bags

A two-parter, this one. If you're promoting your books you might want to put something in the goody bag/room (at the RNA the bags are pre-stuffed, at the RWA you get a pre-stuffed bag when you check in, plus there's a whole room full of goodies). I've got several bags of stuff I've brought back from conference and never looked at again. Paper goods tend to get left behind--by which I mean postcards, bookmarks, etc. People want something they can use, so pens are ever-popular, but it can get expensive.

Try to be imaginative with what you donate to the goody bags. The best things are more expensive, of course, and if you can get your publisher to sort them out then you're laughing. I've done pens, chocolates, and teabags. There are always some left over, but you know what, I use pens, eat chocolate, and drink tea, so it's not a total loss. And remember, this stuff is tax-deductible.

The other thing is that you're also going to be receiving one of these bags. Remember that when you're packing your suitcase. I'd advise taking a bigger case than you need on the outbound journey. You can of course ship things home if it all gets too much, but man that's expensive, especially if you've ended up with loads of free books. And you will end up with loads of free books. I had 40 from my first RWA conference. Yes, 40.

I take my own bag...in which I keep my flats, because HAVE YOU SEEN MY SHOES?

The good part (apart from the free books) is that these bags are usually pretty substantial, and since you'll end up carrying a lot around--notepad, pens, business cards, flat shoes, conference notes which, boy howdy, were a foolscap booklet an inch thick last time I looked--you'll have a decent shoulderbag in which to do it.


7. Food and drink

RNA conferences are fully catered, but you still need to let them know in advance if you have a special diet, which means everything from vegetarian to 'I only eat peas'. RWA conferences, on the other hand, only cater a couple of meals, usually a keynote luncheon and an awards luncheon, and maybe a dessert reception for the Ritas. Serving two thousand people is a slow business, and you'll have to tell the staff about seven times before they stop putting a plate of chicken down in your vegetarian place setting. Quite often, I am sorry to tell you, instead of chicken and vegetables, you'll get vegetables and vegetables. There is often one 'special diet' meal for everyone from vegetarian to 'I only eat peas'. So try and get a good breakfast, or do what I do and take cereal bars to munch on.

Gala dinner, RNA conference Greenwich 2010

The rest of your meals will probably come from hotel restaurants, which are usually pretty comprehensive, and open all day. Or depending on the location, there are probably shops and delis you can get supplies from (such as milk for your tea: see below).

You might get a refrigerator in your room for milk & soft drinks, or for vodka if you prefer. I'd advise a little bottle you can keep in your bag, to refill with water. You'll be talking a lot, and getting really thirsty.

If you're British and you're going to America and you want to drink tea, take your own. And a kettle. American hotel rooms have coffee makers, which are lousy for tea.

At RNA conferences, we're legendary for our wine consumption. The bar often runs out, and we have kitchen parties, like students. So take some wine with you, and anything else you fancy like chocolate or crisps, because there probably won't be a shop on site.

At RWA conferences, everyone drinks Coke or iced tea. Maybe a margarita in the evening. Us British winos are a minority. Just sayin'.

8. Pitching books

I'll put this right out there: desperation stinks. I've heard of editors being pitched books while they're trying to go to the toilet. It's not the time, people. If you find yourself in close proximity to an editor you want to impress, engage her in conversation some other way (I was once told the best opening line is: "Can I buy you a drink?"). Get her to remember you in a good way, not as "that crazy bitch who shoved her manuscript under the toilet cubicle", so that when you send her your query letter, you can say, "You may remember meeting me at the RWA conference in Anaheim." She might not remember you, but then again she might, and you want that memory to be along the lines of "Yes, she seemed friendly and professional, I'd like to work with her."

Don't shove your book at editors and agents. Don't take copies of your manuscript to conference. Don't launch into a prepared pitch, unless you are, of course, at an appointment to do just that. If you are, find a short 'elevator pitch' way to describe your book, and be prepared to just chat about it. Trust me, if you sell the book, you'll describe it to so many people, over and over, you'll be doing it in your sleep.


9. Workshops and sessions

There's a whole breadth of information on offer at these conferences, and it can get a little overwhelming. My first RWA conference, I was at workshops from 8am to 8pm some days. I was exhausted. Pick and choose, and if there's nothing you fancy or you're just too tired, go back to your room for some downtime. If you're as introverted as most authors, you'll probably need it after all that socialising.

Also, it's a bit late for this year, but if you're prone to jetlag (if you've never flown transatlantic before, why risk it?) try to arrive a day early, if you can afford it. If you find you're fresh as a daisy, you've always got extra time for sightseeing.

10. Have fun

That's the most important thing. Yes, this is a business, and yes, it's your career. Don't lose sight of that. But remember there are about a billion other careers which are easier and more secure than writing for a living. If you're not having fun, why are you doing it?

RWA Nationals

I know, it only ended about a month ago. But I'm looking forward! Next year the conference is in Washington DC, which aside from being somewhere I'd like to go to, has the definite advantage of being on the east side of America, and therefore a lot easier to get to--both quicker and more direct. I also have a little bit of money coming from both my nannans, which I can at least put towards it. I mean, this is probably all I'll get in the way of an inheritance, so I'd rather not spend it all on a working holiday, but if I can't earn it before then, at least I can afford to go.

Besides, I haven't used my passport in two years. It's starting to gather dust.

However, I've run the figures and it's not pretty. What'd be really nice is to share a room with my old roomie, Amy, but I don't know if she can come (Amy? Can you?). Plus, a room for two is pricey--pricier than a room for four, anyway. Well, at least I have eleven months to find roommates!

RNA conference notes--part five: Sunday afternoon

These appear to be the last set of conference notes I have! I actually found a lot of Julie's advice here really useful for revising Kett's book.

Julie Cohen: Pacing—it isn’t just what you do in Jimmy Choos while waiting for The Call.

It sure isn’t. I don’t own any Choos. I’ve only ever seen one pair in real life (Alysia, you know I’d nick them if they were in my size!).

Anyway. Pacing, as explained by the not-at-all-hungover Julie Cohen, is about being a Timelord (here we both regretted that she didn’t have a David Tennant picture to display) and controlling your reader’s experience of time. We’ve all experienced the OMG of sitting down to read a little of your book while dinner’s cooking, only to look up what seems to be minutes later, and find your kitchen filling with smoke. The book changed your experience of time, so you didn’t notice the minutes ticking by, or indeed the smoke alarm going off.

How to do this? It does depend on how long the book is. Julie writes short contemporaries for M&B Modern Heat (about 55k, I think) and longer books for Little Black Dress, which are nearly twice as long. In the LBDs, there’s more room for subplots, downtime and introspection, that there isn’t in a shorter book.There’s also space for more worldbuilding and the action can take place over a longer time period.

But all this can slow the pace of a book down. The basic thing you want to do is to make the slow, boring bits of life go faster, and the fast, exciting bits go slower. Lots of conflict slows down the pace, which is exactly what you want for the big dramatic moments in your book—you don’t want them to be over in a twinkling.

Similarly, there are certain bits of exposition that are necessary, but maybe not all that exciting. These could do with being speeded up or incorporated into another scene. You never, ever want your reader to have an excuse to put the book down, or worse, skim bits. You want your reader to burn her dinner (well, you don’t really, but you know what I mean).

Be efficient in your writing. Don’t waste time with things that aren’t relevant, and try to make each scene have two or more purposes. This isn’t about what happens in the scene, but about what it actually does for the story. Does it move the plot or subplot along? Are your characters being developed? Does the scene create environment/atmosphere/conflict? Does it impart information?

Revise for pace. Don’t try and cram it all in on your first draft. Julie often prints out her scenes and writes down what each one actually does in terms of the above. If you do this and discover that you have scenes doing nothing but imparting information, you might want to consider rewriting those scenes, as they’re going to be quite slow. Try to start, and end, each scene with a hook.

Vary the mood, topic, style and theme of your scenes. Julie gave us a breakdown of the first act of Romeo and Juliet with a bullet-point list of what happens. Shakespeare varies, in almost every scene, the tone and style of the language—the younger lovers, the older parents, the aristocracy, the servants. He alternates high drama with comedic moments or fanciful, romantic scenes. The combination is different in almost every scene, and thus a whole lot happens, the world is built and the characters introduced all in the first act, without the pace dropping for a moment.

If you have secrets to impart in your story, try to hand them out gradually. Reveals are dramastic, and they keep the reader coming back for more. Slow down these moments, make them full of emotion and drama. If they pass too quickly, they’ll just vanish and your secret-keeping will have been in vain.

Julie compared novels to comic books (her forthcoming LBD is about a comic book artist), where all the action takes place in the white space, call the gutter. Don’t be afraid of white spaces in your books—use them to break up scenes. They allow time to lapse without filling in pages of boring, “and then this happened, and then that”.

What should you speed up, or even skip altogether?

Coffee and shopping scenes. In films they’re always cut down to montages anyway. These scenes don’t actually do anything (unless the coffee meeting or shoe shopping is the backdrop for important revelations!).

Descriptions for the sake of it. You can tell me the minutest details about your heroine’s outfit, but unless those details are relevant in the scene—the over-tight corset that makes her faint, or the borrowed shoes that cause her to stumble—it’s all completely pointless. Ditto surroundings. This ties in with what Anna said in her workshop on settings, that there should be an emotional connection to the setting, and your characters need to interact with it. If there isn’t, and they don’t, then why are you telling me about it?

Things that are necessary in real life but not in fiction. Your character is driving--I don't need t0o know every gear change. I don't need to know about every meal they eat or how often they use the bathroom (I really don't). There’s a Jude Deveraux book (I can’t remember which one, and I’m not about to go through all twenty-twelve of my books to find out!) where the heroine is a cook, and she makes lots of jam. The reader is treated to page after page of nothing but checking temperatures and boiling sugar, or whatever it is you do in jam-making. I’d tell you, but I was so bored I skipped pages at a time, so I have no idea.

Naturalistic but unnecessary dialogue. I was reading a book the other day—and mercifully I’ve forgotten what it was—where every single word spoken by everyone in every conversation was recorded. You and I know that when you make a phonecall you start off with the pleasantries, but your reader knows this too, and doesn’t need to read, ‘Sarah picked up the phone and dialled Jane’s number. “Hello?” said Jane. “Hello, Jane, it’s me,” Sarah replied. “Sarah?” “Yes. How are you?” Sarah asked. “I’m fine, how are you?” Jane replied. “I’m very excited about the date I had last night,” Sarah said.’ See? Disaster. Your reader has skimmed most of that. If your narration just runs, ‘Sarah called her best friend and said, “Jane, I’m so excited about the date I had last night…”’ you’ve imparted the same amount of information without boring anyone.

Bits at the start and end of the scene. Start with a hook, and go straight in. Don’t re-cap anything.

Resist the Urge to Explain. Remember the jam story? Have R.U.E. painted on your keyboard. Remember about keeping secrets? Your readers are smart people. They’d like to think they’ve figured things out for themselves without being told in every scene what’s going to happen, what’s happening and what’s just happened. Don’t be afraid to cut anything that’s not useful or entertaining.

Analyse your pacing after the fact—especially if you're like me and Julie, and can’t plot in advance. Julie said that for Girl From Mars she made a quick summary of everything that happened in a chapter, then made a chart marking out who was in the chapter, and what was happening with them. Each character got a coloured dot—a small one if their presence didn’t make much of an impact, and a big one if something important was happening to them. This way, she can tell if there are different things happening in each chapter; if there’s a big dot in each chapter; if there’s something from each character thread in each chapter. It’s useful in seeing what the important thing in each chapter is. Can you cut the rest?

I bastardised a version of this for Kett’s book (which despite a list of potential titles running over two pages, still doesn’t bloody have one), which I know is over-long and has pacing problems. My version has columns for character and plot development, and then for the tone and content of the scene—one each for humour, love, lust, drama, and hate. I put in varying shades of each colour for varying degrees of content. Sounds complicated, but it enabled me to see where there were chapters with lots of plot development, but apparently no humour, love, lust, drama or hate. The characters didn’t develop much either.

See the highlighted box near the top? Skim along to the right, and you'll see only one colour there—plot development. But absolutely nothing else. That's the Hateful Chapter Five, which has since been fixed, to be funnier, sexier, and less hateful.


On the other hand, I could see where the Black Moment fell by the big dark colours in each column. The Drama and Hate columns had lots of colour there, but after that the Hate column got paler, while the Love one got darker.

It’s all about using what tools work for you. If you’re a better plotter than I am (and I can’t even write notes on my plots, or the creative bit of my brain just goes on strike) then you might not need all this. But if your book is plodding a bit, try using some of Julie’s advice to tighten it up a bit.

RNA Conference notes part three: Saturday afternoon

While I wait for the third instalment of Dr. Horrible (new addiction! Yes it is!), here are the rest of my conference notes for Saturday's workshops.

Saturday afternoon

Midas PR: secrets of a successful PR campaign

Steven Williams, MD of Midas PR who run the RNA’s publicity campaigns, gave an informative talk on the elements of a PR campaign. He said that PR is all about face-to-face contact, and the best way to do this is to contact national newspapers and TV shows. Phone is better than email, as you want to build a rapport. However, as an example only about 3% of books sent to the Daily Mail are actually reviewed for the paper, and your chances of getting a slot on something like Woman’s Hour are even smaller.

Steven advised us to familiarise ourselves with the media by reading the papers and blogs that review and promote books, to make sure we’re targeting the right ones. He recommended Ready Steady Blog, Book Slut, Grumpy Old Bookman and Rake’s Progress, as well as the women’s website iVillage. You’re more likely to reach younger readers online, and older readers via traditional media. Build a website: this is becoming essential. You don’t necessarily need a blog—a neglected one can reflect badly, but if you think you can stick to it then it’s a good idea.

Write a PR plan. This should factor in lead times—big magazines plan their features 4-6 months ahead, national papers 4-6 weeks. Look at your audience and how to reach them, ie find the right magazine or website for your target readership. Use an angle: for instance have you begun a new career in midlife? Has your writing helped you overcome an illness or tragedy? Do you have an unusual background? Don’t forget that national newspapers have widely-read websites: for instance the Guardian’s paper sales are around 350,000, while its website gets about 16 million hits per day.

You press release should not be too long, no more than a page. Include a relevant biography—leave out the details that have nothing to do with your book or the angle you’re chasing. Always include a photo of yourself, as professional as possible.

Try targeting the trade press, in this instance writing magazines, with feature ideas, and don’t neglect your local papers or radio, as you have a built-in angle. Try to build a relationship with someone at the paper/radio station—think of that face-to-face contact. People are more likely to remember you that way and think of you for their own articles. Literary festivals ar eon the rise and a great way to make your face known.

Use the themes in your book if you don’t have a personal angle. For instance Freya North, who won the RNA main award this year with Pillow Talk. She ran interviews with sleepwalkers, as it affects her main character.

Unfortunately if you’re fielding the press campaign yourself it’s very expensive: Steven warned that a 2-3 day hard campaign would cost about £5000. This could rise to £20,000 for a bigger campaign.


Emma Rose: The life and times of a Random House novel.

Emma Rose edits the Arrow line of books at Random House. She invented a fictional author and her book, to talk us through the submission and publishing process: Betty Seller, whose first book (sorry but I’ve forgotten the fictional title!) has been submitted to Random House.

The editor takes lunch with an agent, who pitches Betty’s book. Emma likes the agent, and trusts her to pitch books that match the style and taste of the things she’d looking for. She accepts the submission and reads it quickly. Emma uses an e-reader, so she can read the book in the office and on the train, or wherever she likes. She likes the book, and takes it to her senior editor.

Emma has to sell the book to everyone else in the office: not just her senior editor, but also the maeketing, sales and editorial teams have to be on board. The book is pitched at an acquisitions meeting, where a profit-and-loss sheet is drawn up to work out the maximum offer Random House can afford to make on Betty’s book. They need to work out where it will fit into the schedule, making sure it won’t clash with other books of a similar nature.

The ultimate decision on whether to accept the book lies with the editorial department, but the marketing dept. also has a say.

The editorial team will make a presentation to Betty and her agent on how they intend to sell the book. If Betty’s agent has pitched the book to more than one publisher, they may need to try harder, and an auction might decide who actually takes on the book.

Emma’s offer is successful and Betty signs the deal. A year in advance, the author is consulted on the ‘jacket brief’. Work on the cover begins early as it is such an important selling tool. The team must decide where the book will be positioned in the market, and if the cover should feature photos, illustrations, or mainly text. The editor needs to tell the designer why she loves the book, and what the market is.

The editorial team has lunch with the agent and author so that the author can meet the team. Emma’s notes on Betty’s book allow her to return the second draft within a month, and a few weeks later the line edits have been completed. Emma did note that this is a very fast turnaround, but we’re looking at a perfect example.

Emma creates a title information sheet, which includes details on Betty, her biography, her agent, the cover and blurb of the book, as well as the sales points of the book. The publisher will usually write the blurb, although occasionally the author might do it. It’s considered a major selling point.

Sales to big chains have to begin 6-8 months in advance. If the book is to be published in May, then the jacket brief takes place the preceding May. In July the blurb is written. September is when the marketing meeting takes place, and a month later marketing material is produced at the sales launch meeting. In November, a proof cover is created.

Proofs are less common now than they used to be. They’re advance copies sent to booksellers, with some of the sales points on the cover (a friend of mine used to work in a bookshop and bring these home—it was how I discovered Sarah Mason—I remember a large photo of the author on the front cover, and sales points on the back, telling potential booksellers where the book stood in the market, expected print run/sales figures, and how great the book was was). After the final edit the book is sent to a freelance copy editor to check for any mistakes. The editorial team chooses the typeface and the proof is created a few weeks later.

In terms of marketing, sell-out and sell-through are about point-of-sale marketing, getting consumers (ie readers) to buy the product. Company marketing to customers (ie booksellers), known as sell-in, uses less paper materials and more interactive gimmicks, such as the whips sent to company buyers advertising a new bonkbuster. Samples of the book are often sent out, and various toys, and sometimes even cakes! Occasionally the publisher will take the buyer to dinner, but that’s less common now. A lot of customers don’t allow freebies. The publisher looks at marketing Betty’s career, rather than individual books. They work several books ahead. The aim is always to get books on shelves.

The marketing department might be working several books ahead. Their aim is always to get books on shelves, but ultimately they’re not marketing one book, they’re marketing Betty Seller’s entire career.

RNA conference notes part two: Saturday mid-morning

Following on from Saturday morning's sessions, after coffee and the first of many compliments on my shoes

Anna Scamans: A Sense of Place

Anna (writing as Anna Louise Lucia) gave a brilliant interactive workshop on how to use setting in your books. She began by reading the opening of a Mary Stewart book (can anyone remember which one? I’m not hugely well-read on MS and only have one on my shelves--which isn't it!). The passage described the landscape in terms that foreshadow what’s to come: “a sound like rain” (which I think described the susurrus of wind on long grass or crops) hinting there’s a storm ahead in the story.

The passage was long, and as Anna said, unlikely to be picked up by a publisher today as a way of opening a book. Be wary of putting too much description together in your book—consider the pacing.

Anna asked us to partner up and describe a place that we had a personal connection to.

Mine was the fields where I walk the Demon Puppy—although she’s just over a year old, I’ve been walking there since, well, I was old enough to! My first dog, Jenny, was an ancient terrier cross who joined the family ten years before I did, and died when I was five, so our field walks were short. However, for five years after that we continued to walk in the fields on bank holidays and weekends when the weather was good.

I remember the gleam of wheat in sunshine, the movement of crops like waves in water. The smell of rain on a sunny day. The cool of the shade under the trees in the little wood and the stink of stagnant water in one of the overflow ponds up in the small nature reserve.

Those ponds became a bathing pool for Honey, who was my dog from age 10 to 24. She was long-haired (Retriever/Sheltie cross) and on hot days I used to walk her to the far side of the fields, through the nature reserve, to the ponds, where she’d just wade in and stand there, steaming, but never getting her face wet, like a lady with a hairdo. Now the Demon Puppy (short-haired black Lab/Collie cross) launches herself in, belly-flop style, and paddles around after sticks. This dog ain’t no lady.

Those fields and woods remind me of my childhood and of my dogs. I quite often stand there and, as Neil Finn put it, “breathe in the view” (from the song Part Of Me, Part Of You, which even starts with the words “Over these green hills, blue electric light, always in my blood, forever in my eyes”—yes, the setting even brings music to mind!). I’ve always been very glad they’re so close and always felt at home and quite safe there—although this could be to do with the hefty weight of the brass buckle on the end of the dog lead!

As Anna said when these places were described (not quite as lengthily as mine!), there is always a reaction to a space—whether you’re safe, happy, uncomfortable, scared, disgusted, whatever. What you know about a place is as important as what we see. Think of those poppy fields in northern France and Belgium: they look very pretty and peaceful, but we know the horrors that went on there, and it affects how we feel about them.

Your relationship with a space makes you who you are. I described a rural setting, but my partner described an urban one (again, it reminded her of her childhood) in which she felt happy. Having lived in a semi-rural setting all my life, I’m much happier with some space and greenery around me, but I’ve had city-dwelling friends who feel unsafe in the countryside (you know, all those pitchfork-wielding yokels. Too much League of Gentlemen if you ask me).

Make the setting significant to the characters. Anna’s example was the film Gladiator: we first see Maximus on a dark, muddy, bloody battlefield where he seems to be completely at home; but when he closes his eyes he dreams of golden fields, because that’s where his home really is.

When you’re researching a setting, don’t just look for geographical details. Try looking at blogs and travel journals to see how other people have connected with a place.

Anna put up four photographs, of a city street, a green valley, a beach at sunset and her office (complete with cats), and asked us to pick one and write about a character who felt comfortable there, interacting with the surroundings. Then to take the same character and put him/her in a setting that was uncomfortable. Taking a character out of their element can say as much about them as putting them somewhere they’re comfortable.

Use the five senses—although admittedly Taste is a tough one in a lot of settings! If your setting is somewhere that includes food or drink then it’s easier. Don’t just describe how a place looks but how it sounds and smells, and what sort of textures your character encounters.

When Anna came into the room she said it reminded her of being back at school—perhaps because of the desk and chairs and OHP, but the thing that got me about it was the smell. My primary school had the infants class next to the office and staff room. Whenever the connecting door opened, I smelled paper, ink and coffee. It still takes me back twenty-one years to Mrs Wood’s class, even when I smell it in my own office now.

Finally, Anna reminded us that a physical journey can often symbolise an emotional journey. Just don’t be too obvious with it!

RNA conference notes--part one: Friday & Saturday morning

I figured it was about time I posted something useful and constructive about the RNA conference, seeing as how I’ve been back a whole week now. I didn’t take my camera, so I’ve borrowed some pictures from other people who did.

Friday afternoon started with the author panel. I’ve already wibbled on about it; the other authors present did a much better job than me!

Picture borrowed from Liz Fenwick, who has loads of great snaps. L-R: me, Nicola Cornick, Kate Harrison (standing; just finished The Secret Shopper's Revenge and loved it!), Anne Ashurst (just visible), Kate Hardy, Anna Jacobs.


Same line-up; this time it's Nicola Cornick speaking.

After a slightly late, boozy Friday night, it was time to get down to the business of learning more about this ridiculous business of writing and publishing. Here are the first couple of talks I went to.


Saturday morning

jay Dixon: Shakespeare on Love


jay gave an informative talk on the influences of Shakespeare on romantic novelists from Georgette Heyer through to the present. Knowledge of Shakespeare has often been used to demonstrate compatibility between characters, and used as a shorthand to add intelligence, without stretching the reader’s knowledge too far. Shakespeare is known all over the world in many different languages (I once saw a production of King Lear at the Barbican that had an all-English cast, including the late Nigel Hawthorne, but an all-Japanese crew, including the director, Yukio Ninegawa).


Shakespeare has given us many common words, such as abstemious, critical, frugal, and zany—and several that haven’t caught on so well, such as insultment (I love this!), bepray, and undeaf.


He borrowed plots and subplots in a way that would have us crying piracy today—but in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was entirely acceptable. What Shakespeare gave us was a fresh way of writing. He could portray a character through speech—changing patterns of speech for older or younger characters, nobles or commoners (Julie Cohen also touched on this in her Sunday talk). His work was rich with metaphors and new ideas ‘bursting from their shells’ (that comes from a quote, but I only mate a very quick note so I can’t remember who!).


Romeo and Juliet gives us the framework for the romantic novel, beginning with disharmony and moving towards harmony. The stages can be described as:


Love at first sight

Obstacle

Declaration

Separation

Reconciliation


Of course in R&J the reconciliation isn’t between the lovers, but their families.

Shakespeare didn’t add on subplots for the hell of it: in R&J the Prince appears at three pivotal points and what he says and does affects the main plot. In Much Ado About Nothing, the wordy, funny, highly charge affair of Beatrice and Benedick is in total contrast to the romantic, tragic affair of Hero and Claudio.


Shakespeare had romantic plots of themes in a lot of plays that weren’t necessarily about romance: for instance Lady Macbeth’s love for her husband is the driving force behind her actions. The jealousy of Othello is a theme that’s been used again and again in romantic novels (although not usually with such tragic consequences).


And finally cross-dressing, so beloved of Shakespeare plots, is still an enduring device in romantic novels, although usually historicals, since today women in effect cross-dress on a daily basis!



Liz Bailey & Eileen Ramsey: Networking


Liz and Eileen gave a hugely enjoyable workshop on the right and wrong ways to network with publishers and agents. Using the biannual RNA parties as their example, and with Pia Fenton and Henriette Gyland as volunteers, they demonstrated the wrong ways to approach editors and agents at such events.
Picture borrowed from Kate Hardy, who also has a comprehensive write-up of the conference)

Things to avoid include: butting in on conversations; taking too long; being rude; approaching someone who doesn’t represent what you write; gushing over the other books they’ve edited; lacking a clear, concise ‘pitch’ to describe your book; don’t expect them to take your details/contact you; badgering famous authors for an introduction (but if they offer you one then take it!).


Things to remember: Be professional; be polite; know what your book is about (sounds obvious, but see below re: being unable to describe my own damn books); have paper/pen ready to take their details; if they’re there at such an event, then they’re willing to talk to you.


Then they had us role-play (haven’t done this since school) as pitchers/pitchees. I cheated, and played the pitchee.


The thing that always stumps me is trying to describe my books. All right; so I can explain the Sophie books without rambling on too long: a ditzy blonde gets recruited as a spy is probably all you need to know. And erotic paranormal romance doesn’t require much further explanation. But the book I’m currently shopping with agents (with very little success; possibly this is why) has no easy description.


I sat next to Imogen Howson for this talk, and while she described her book to me (A romantic ghost story with a shocking twist) perfectly, my description of the Untied Kingdom went something like, “Well, it’s set in a parallel world, and there’s this endless war, because basically we—er, that is Britain, England—are a sort of third world country, and there’s this girl who falls through a whole in the world from our world, and she’s fished out of the river by an army major, and he thinks she’s mad, or maybe a spy, and…”


You see the problem. So during and after the talk, I jotted down ideas for a more concise pitch. The trick to this, as I realised when I was writing the book, is to figure out whose story it is (I kept trying to write it as Eve’s story, but it’s really all about Harker). Here’s what I came up with:


Major Harker is fighting an endless war in a third world country that’s falling apart. It’s called England.


Whaddya think?