On the flip side of the content question coin, a reader asks,
I’ve been reading your blog for awhile with interest. I have written a teen fantasy and I have a question about Mirrorstone and YA in general. My novel has some profanity, drinking, and sex. (I like to call it a Veronica Mars meets Tamora Pierce meets Joss Whedon type of book) This seems quite ordinary to me as my protagonist is seventeen years old. (And I remember high school vividly.) But I keep hearing that YA should be ‘cleaner’. Is that true and does it mean that I should submit to Wizards under the adult imprint?Thanks for reading! As are most of my answers, this one is "it depends."
How graphic is the mature content? We at Mirrorstone keep to a fairly strict PG-13 standard, so anything of a graphic nature really isn't for us, but that doesn't mean we don't shy away from tough subjects. But Wizards books often have that restriction as well (though not as strictly) because of corporate policy--there is just a line we won't cross as a company.
That doesn't mean you won't find that kind of thing out there, though, in the YA marketplace. There is a YA book to suit pretty much any teen's taste, from the gamut of innocent adventure and fantasy like Shannon Hale (who nevertheless also doesn't shy away from extremely tough subjects) to the darker work of Holly Black and Melissa Marr. (See that previous post for more on that.)
But that doesn't mean we're the right publisher for you. Or it might. The best way to answer this question is to read widely. Read all our YA books--check out our anthology, Magic in the Mirrorstone, and see the kind of variety we're looking for--and notice that it has a Holly Black story and a Cecil Castellucci story, both authors who are known for their edgy material. Look at how they crafted their stories, and see if your work fits within that same gamut. Then check out other books from other publishers putting out books similar to yours, and after all that, submit accordingly. You may decide that we're not quite a fit for you--but then, you might.
Now, the secondary issue in your question is adult versus YA. Is an edgy novel with a 17-year-old protagonist YA, or is it adult?
Again, it depends.
Generally if your protagonist is living your story in the moment--not looking back on being 17 from the point of view of a 30-something--then that's one clue that it's YA.
Generally if teens (including the teen you remember yourself being at 15 or 16, because kids read up) would be more interested in the story than adults would, then it's YA. Check out coverage of the "Think Future" Panel Debates to see some good discussion of this issue. Note what George Nicholson of Sterling Lord Literistic said about S.E. Hinton's books:
Nicholson provided some historical perspective, recalling the days there was no category called “young adult.” Then, in the 1970s, a few writers came along “who had a social context,” such as S.E. Hinton, and a teen audience was identified and located. “When [Hinton] was first published by Viking,” Nicholson recalled, “No one wanted it in the adult world. But when the book was republished as a book for teens, with a new cover, it began to sell in the millions.”With that in mind, who do you see reading your books? Thirty-somethings? Twenty-somethings? Or right smack in the teen years, anywhere from 12 to 18 or 19 year olds?
Also, boys or girls?
If you're looking for teens to read it, you should be trying to sell it to a publisher who publishes books for teens, and then target a YA publisher who targets the readership you're looking to reach.
Teens, especially boys, do read the books published by the adult imprint at Wizards, so perhaps that complicates it and takes you back to square one, but I think if you just make sure to keep in mind what kinds of books that publisher makes and send it to the imprint with books most like your own, you'll be fine.
I'm opening mail right now, and paused for this public service announcement.
If you, like my cousin Cindy wrapping a Christmas present, feel like you need to tape every crevice of your submission envelope just in case, please take a step back and imagine you're an editor with a letter opener that can't find any purchase.
If it takes me more than 30 seconds to open your letter--and if I have to navigate multiple taped-up layers--you're doing something wrong. Cease and desist with the tape, already! A neatly sealed envelope will do. If you feel you need to tape it to make sure it'll stay closed, then leave a little hole where my letter opener can get in. You certainly don't need to tape up every corner, including the corners of the part of the envelope that the manufacturer sealed.
That's just overkill.
Rest assured, you don't want to be remembered as the person whose submission took me five minutes to open.
ETA: Can I also just go on the record with my enduring love for the self-sealing envelope?
I've been seeing a lot of publishing bloggers posting about the December slowdown. Here at Mirrorstone it's similar--things do slow down here the week between Christmas and New Year's because the whole company has it off. But the time up to that time off is full of people like me trying to catch up, too, working on projects we haven't had the time to catch up on due to other more pressing deadlines. (I don't know how it is at other publishers, but I imagine it's similar.)
I've gotten several emails about recent submissions (and not-so-recent) and you'll be glad to know that I'm working on them! Especially requested manuscripts. I have instituted a new system that, once I get caught up on the oldest submissions, will allow me to respond to initial submissions within 3 months. Manuscripts, of course, take a little more time. I'm not the fastest editor in the industry, that's for sure. Note that I take simultaneous submissions, so don't feel bad about letting other see your work while you're waiting on me!
So while I'll be relaxing that week off starting a week from today, life is just as busy as ever this week and next! I hope that you all are having a relaxing December yourselves and that whatever holidays you celebrate will be full of joy with family and friends.
Speaking of that imprint, remember that the open call for the Discoveries imprint is open now. More information on how to submit, including submission guidelines, can be found at the Wizards website.
Wizards of the Coast Discoveries™ is a fantasy-tinged speculative fiction imprint that discovers new worlds, new talent, and new voices for adult fiction readers.
Wizards of the Coast Discoveries, a brand new imprint debuting in January 2008, is looking for well-written speculative fiction. We will open for submissions September 1 and close for submissions January 15. Further guidelines can be found at http://www.wotcdiscoveries.com.
Agented submissions are welcome year round.
In January 2008, Discoveries will launch this exciting new imprint with Firefly Rain, a southern gothic ghost story by Richard Dansky. Further launch titles include Last Dragon by J.M. McDermott and Devil’s Cape by Rob Rogers, both first-time novelists who were selected from previous open calls.
Good Luck!
So if you've got a manuscript you think would fit Discoveries--I hear from my compatriots that they're looking for speculative fiction like magical realism, high fantasy that breaks boundaries (i.e., this is not your father's high fantasy), horror--they're pretty open right now, but it needs to be of a literary bent for adults. Follow the submission guidelines and don't submit until Sept. 1.
And feel free to pass this along to writers you know, writing groups, etc.
In other news, there's not really other news. Just rolling along trying to hit a deadline for a manuscript edit. I also got three first drafts in practically at once, and am waiting on a fourth. Those will all require first reads and edits, and on top of that I'm trying to really look at some new stuff for planning out my next year. So this month is rather busy! If you're waiting to hear from me on a submission, hopefully you'll be hearing back this month or next, as I sit down and really go through the pile. That means reading all requested manuscripts in addition to reading samples that have been sent in. If you sent a sample and I end up asking for a full, though, of course the timing on that might take a little longer!
A recent email asks a question that has come up several times in the past:
I sent you two manuscripts/books, one to consider as a sample for work-for-hire possibilities, and one to consider as an original work. I got one rejection letter. Was it for one, the other, or both?
Often these questions come because someone has sent a multi-purpose package, wherein they've got a full manuscript (not the first three chapters of a manuscript as outlined in our submission guidelines) plus several other items for consideration, then say "please consider this for both work-for-hire and as an original." Then they include one SASE for the whole huge package (if they include an SASE at all, which is another subject that our associate editor has asked me to cover and which I'll do in a separate post).
The confusion of "which was it??" then arises because you get one rejection letter, saying nothing about which was rejected.
The simplest way around this confusion is that if you're going to send several items, be sure to send them in separate packages with a separate SASE, noting on the envelope which project the envelope was related to. That way there won't be any question about whether one part was passed on to another editor while the other part was rejected. That's good advice even if you only send one project to each publisher at a time.
However, still make sure that the submission follows the submission guidelines. If a writer sends a whole huge package including a full manuscript, it indicates at least on the surface that they probably haven't read our submission guidelines (or they think they don't have to follow the rules), and it's much more likely that if one part is rejected, the package as a whole is rejected.
Really, the editor reading submissions doesn't have time to parse out huge packages. She's screening for potential at that point, which is why we specifically ask that writers only submit the first three chapters and a synopsis. It's an avalanche of paper to get unsolicited submissions at any time, but when writers send one or several full unsolicited manuscripts at once, that gets overwhelming. We'll ask for more if we want to read more.
The next simplest solution is to be sure to only send one project at a time. It will really reduce both your headache and ours. If we like your work, you can mention, "hey, I've got this other project too. Would you be interested in seeing it?" and then we can decide at that time. If we reject it, you'll be ready with a newly polished next project that might work out better.
Now, if you've followed all those directions and have just noted on your cover letter that you'd like your original sample to also be considered for our shared-world series, great! You're doing well. But you'll still only get one rejection letter if we don't feel like your work is a good fit for us at the time.
Here's how it works if we think someone fits an existing shared-world series: If we decide from your sample that your writing style works for a particular series, and the timing is right and we're looking for authors at that time, then an editor will note in the letter that while the sample isn't something we'd be interested in acquiring, we like your style enough that we'll keep your sample on file for shared-world possibilities. I'll announce right now, though, that our soon-to-be-updated submissions guidelines state that we are not currently looking widely for new shared-world authors at this time, and I'm not keeping too many submissions like that on file right now.
Otherwise, I'm afraid that a no is a no. If you don't hear anything besides no, keep writing, keep improving, and keep looking for other venues to place that work.
________________________________________
And just to reiterate:
Due to the number of submissions we receive, there's simply no way to give personal feedback on every submission as to reasons we might not be interested . It could be any number of things, but what it boils down to is that it wasn't the right fit for us at this time (see my 8-post series starting with this one about the relationship between an author and editor for more on that subject).
The last couple of weeks have been full of me running from meetings to putting out editorial fires. Crazy things happening at the last minute that push everything else aside until you figure out what happened. Quick thinking on the part of everyone involved to make it work. Big sighs of relief when you know the book will still make it out on time, and even in excellent shape.
I'm sure if you work in another industry you can still sympathize. Sometimes it all comes piling up at once. Then you get a moment to breathe and realize just how much you need to catch up on to balance things out!
My goal for the weekend is twofold: to read, read, read, and to sleep, sleep, sleep. I also just remembered that I am teaching a Sunday School class for my church this Sunday, which means some of that reading will be non-work related. But the goal is to get as many responses out so that my submission pile is once again under control. Then on to more editing, and I will at last be caught up before heading out of town next week.
So if you're waiting on hearing from me, thanks again for your patience.
Sometimes, though, I'll get an email that says, "Can I send you something?" giving me the details that really constitute a query, and I point the person to the submission guidelines. (Though sometimes I wonder how they found the email address right under my bio saying "Go here for our submission guidelines" and didn't seem to see that link.) And sometimes we'll get snail mail queries with just the query letter, so we do the same thing--send a standard "here are the submission guidelines" letter, pointing out that if they don't include a writing sample, we can't consider the submission.
In either case, the response pointing the writer to the submission guidelines is not a "request" for their material. "Requested material" means that I've specifically said to the writer, "I liked your sample. Please send the full manuscript." Anything else before that point is politely asking the person to follow the directions for submitting.
I don't request so much material that I don't remember what I've requested, so writing "requested" on an envelope of material I didn't request just makes me question if you know how to find our submission guidelines and follow the directions.
I understand that some publishers ask for just a query, and some for samples, and some for full manuscripts, and it can get confusing.
But the directions are out there on how each publisher prefers to receive submissions, and they're for the writer's benefit--if I don't have a writing sample, no synopsis is going to make me know whether I want to say yes or no. So if I said I'd take just queries for unagented submissions I'd have added a burdensome step for my submissions reading. That's just how we prefer it.
By following the guidelines a publisher provides, you make sure your writing will stand out, and that's what's most important.
And for good measure, our submission guidelines are here.
So the Dresden Files book #1 is becoming a good example of both good points and bad. While I love--love--the TV show, the book is giving me mixed feelings. I have only read 2 chapters so far, so you're getting the benefit of my slow speed in my reactions between reading the first two pages and the next 20. I'm sure it's wonderful--I'm just reading it at the end of every day as time permits, which it doesn't really permit much of lately. And I look forward to reading more (though I must admit the prose is a little wooden in the intro dept right now, but perhaps that's crime novel/hardboiled detective novel convention that I'm not familiar with--certainly the TV show makes those parts over into much more in the ironic postmodern dept.). The following is a minor issue that calls attention to something that writers might want to be aware of in their own writing.
Remember that "My name is Harry Dresden" paragraph I referred to earlier? Right in that same paragraph, the narrator goes on to say "I work out of an office in midtown Chicago."
Nobody works out of an office in midtown Chicago, because "midtown Chicago" doesn't exist. You would say, "I work in the Loop," or "I work in Bridgeport/Lakeview/Lincoln Park/Pullman/Wicker Park/South Shore/Hyde Park" or any number of other neighborhoods. If you're a Chicagoan (which I was, for two years, and am a native Illinoisan) you'd know this terminology, so I'd want Harry to know it. Or at least use the regional terms, like North Side, South Side, West Side, and the Loop. (No East Side, which would be Lake Michigan.)
If you're going to set your fantasy in a contemporary real-life location, you still need to pay attention to little details like that so that readers familiar with that location won't be thrown out of the story . In other words, don't do anything that would severely challenge their suspension of disbelief.
With the Dresden Files, for me, the TV show is engaging enough and I already know the concept. I want to like the books, want to see how they compare . So I elide over geographical nitpickery, but it still niggles at me. And if I were reading a manuscript cold, it would bug me even more. Not enough to reject something just for that kind of error, but enough to make me wonder if the author has paid attention to other details and make me keep a sharper eye out.
Exceptions
There are many, many examples in both literature and film where geography is played with to serve the story. Certainly Jack didn't walk Lucy home to Oak Park from the riverwalk on Wabash--a distance of at least 10 miles--in While You Were Sleeping. And, I might add, they were walking toward the lake near the Tribune Tower, which means they were headed the wrong direction anyway, east instead of west. It made for a prettier shot, I'm sure. And it works for people who don't know Chicago, and even if you do, it's still a good movie. Same for Sleepless in Seattle and a number of other movies.
So of course you can play with geography if you need to. However, just keep in mind that especially when you use a location to provide flavor in your first few pages, and even later when you use locational details to establish setting, you need the little details to be accurate. If, in that paragraph, Butcher had had Harry Dresden say, "I work out of an office on the South Side of Chicago," I would have happily continued on my way reading, without needing more specific detail about which neighborhood, because at least he used the right general term. He wouldn't have called attention to the possible fact that he might never have lived in Chicago. (He may have, for all I know--his bio doesn't say one way or the other, just says he currently lives in Missouri.
I don't care if you've never lived in a setting you're writing in (though of course I'd rather you have at least visited, though sometimes that can't be helped, especially with foreign countries). But if you've never lived there, be sure to do your homework.
Question
Any other examples where this kind of situation brought you out of the story? Anybody who this doesn't bother? Why or why not? Can a good plot overcome bad geography? (I give a qualified yes: bad geography is an editable offense.)
*Despite being obviously filmed in Vancouver--sad that, because Chicago is an AWESOME town to see, and you should spend time there if you haven't. Oh, and speaking of Chicago,
tltrent is there today and tomorrow for Support Teen Lit Day for YALSA, so watch your local news on the 19th to look for an interview with her!
And even if you're not into fantasy, Harry is well worth watching. It's urban fantasy ala Charles de Lint and Holly Black, with of course its own twists. One reason I love it is the setting: I lived in Chicago for 2 years and I'm an Illinois native, so Chicago is close to my heart. It's a great setting for an urban fantasy and much different from a New York or other East Coast setting (which also are interesting, just very different in culture and setting).
Well, I didn't get quite a chapter finished because we also had our landlord pop over for some maintenance stuff, but I read enough that I wanted to share with you snippets from the first pages to show you what I mean by a good beginning, in answer finally to
First, here's the first three paragraphs:
I heard the mailman approach my office door, half an hour earlier than usual. He didn’t sound right. His footsteps fell more heavily, jauntily, and he whistled. A new guy. He whistled his way to my office door, then fell silent for a moment. Then he laughed.Then he knocked.I winced. My mail comes through the mail slot unless it’s registered. I get a really limited selection of registered mail, and it’s never good news. I got up out of my office chair and opened the door.
Because I want to know why the mailman laughed. And I wanted to know why the first person narrator winced. I still don't have any idea (from the context) that this is a fantasy story. It could be the start of a sports story, or a chick lit novel. But the first three paragraphs have set up a situation where something is happening, and the interaction between the two characters is being set up. And Butcher then delivers in the next part of the first page, telling you exactly why you'll want to read this story.
The new mailman, who looked like a basketball with arms and legs and a sunburned, balding head, was chuckling at the sign on the door glass. He glanced a me and hooked a thumb toward the sign. “You’re kidding, right?”
I read the sign (people change it occasionally), and shook my head. "No, I'm serious. Can I have my mail, please."
Then, and only then, does the author do the cliche "my name is" introduction--but he tweaks it so that it's no longer cliche, and notice that he didn't open with it.
My name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Conjure by it at your own risk. I’m a wizard. I work out of an office in midtown Chicago. As far as I know, I’m the only openly practicing professional wizard in the country. You can find me in the yellow pages, under “Wizards.” Believe it or not, I’m the only one there.
So, here's an example of an author using a cliche to his advantage, and making it his own. One part of how he makes it his own is by setting up a scene where something interesting happens. There's a bit of mystery to the scene, even if it isn't a big explosion or somebody dying. So that's what I mean by action--and that action could be a big explosion or somebody dying, but this kind of action I'm talking about is something that shows me something about the characters. Something that makes me like them, empathize with them, want to know more about them. It could be any number of situations, but whatever it is, it has to keep moving and keep me interested.
So I hope that helps illustrate what I was talking about in that earlier post about boggy beginnings.
Mostly what I see at this point are the better submissions. Everybody follows the directions with a cover letter, a three-chapter sample (though some aren't clear on the idea of three chapters being three chapters from the beginning of the same book, even if you're sending a writing sample for a shared world series), and most everyone includes a good synopsis/outline of the proposed book. In other words, by the time it reaches me, most everyone has read the submissions guidelines.
So the next question I ask as I'm reading is whether I'm caught by the writing and the story. Those are two different things--how good a storyteller is the author? is one question, and how good a writer is the author? is a different question entirely. So you might say that my next question is actually two questions, because I'm looking at both storytelling and style.
Boggy beginnings
Something I noticed in the submissions I rejected was that the story doesn't get going fast enough. You have three chapters to hook me, but if the first few pages don't get me, you have a tougher job. Why are you starting the story where you're starting it? Sometimes I'll browse back through the sample and find that if the writer had started the story in chapter 2 or 3 it would have been better. Usually, though, the whole sample is bogged down by things the writer believes necessary, such as the introduction of minor characters, which might be better off elsewhere to allow the story to start.
There's a fine balance between telling too much and not telling enough in the beginning of a story. The reader needs to feel involved and needs to know what's going on. But they don't need to know all a character's feelings about their father in an exposition paragraph that stops the action.
And the action is what you want to focus on. Don't use an old Nancy Drew book for your example of how to start a book, even a sequel, for instance. Too many pages of "Nancy had blonde hair, George was the tomboy, and Bess was a little plump," and not enough of the mystery! I loved Nancy Drew as much as the next girl, but I skipped those pages and went straight on to the action.
Then when there are details that the reader absolutely must know, make sure to include that information without breaking the action.
A bad example:
Jennifer watched her brother walk in the room. He had blond hair, and was much taller than she was. He was a good brother. He was three years older than her. He was a kind person who always was there for her.
Instead:
"Could you pass the towel?" Jennifer asked.
"Here, let me get that," her brother said, taking the wet dish from her hand. "You sit down. It's been a long day." Brian always did that sort of thing, noticing when she couldn't take the drama anymore.
Do you see the difference? Give the characters actions. To use a cliche, show, don't tell, but give them something to do if you have something you want to show--and if you want to include it, it has to be in service to the story.
I've been to conferences where people ask me if the three chapter sample has to be the first three. They say, "But chapters 4, 10, and 11 are the best ones!" My answer to them is that if their instinct is to show me chapter 4, they need to reconsider why they want to show me chapter 4 and where the story really begins.
Wordsmithing
The second question, how good a writer are they? refers to the writer's style. There are submissions that I look at and think, "This is okay," in a perfunctory way--the writer can string a sentence together correctly, and has a good grasp on action and storytelling. But then there are submissions where the writer has all these things, and then there is something more. That something more is voice.
How well do you get into the character's head? (In the story, not necessarily in your own head! Though that works well for some of the writers I know.) How well can you evoke their emotions, their relationships? The storytelling, which we talked about above, is what moves the plot along, gives the right pacing, but the voice is what lets us explore this character's inner and outer world.
Personally, I don't go for sentences that are so beautifully crafted that you can barely decifer the story--I want sentence craft that serves the story, because the story does always come first. But what makes each story unique is the voice, the characterization, the author's ability to create the desired mood.
Now, that isn't really "wordsmithing" in the "craft a beautiful sentence" sense, but I think they're related. Thoughts?
Today's final post is a morality tale. It is a tale of an annoyed editor and a newby writer who should have known better.
The setting: Editor is cleaning out her office. There comes a time when "organized disorder" becomes plain old disorder and you have to do something about it. It's been over a year since the move to the new building, and she has decided that it's about time to organize the files before they rise up and eat her alive.
Between juggling (literally) files and juggling (metaphorically) all the other duties of her day, including people stopping by her cube numerous times an hour to ask her questions, and colleague yelling over the wall to tell her to check her email to answer more questions, Editor is feeling kind of frazzled, but triumphant. She will conquer this organizational nightmare, and she has the label maker to make it happen.
The phone rings.
E.: Hello?
Newby Writer: <Announces name. No greeting.>
E.: . . . Yes? How can I help you?
N.W.: I sent you an email yesterday.
E.: You did?
N.W.: Yes, why didn't you write me back? Or answer my voicemail?
S.E.: . . .
N.W.: Well, like I said in the email, I've got the next best thing in children's literature right here, and true to my word, I'm going to call you every day until you give me an answer.
E.: Have you looked up our submissions guidelines? You're welcome to submit, but you need to follow those guidelines.
N.W.: No. Here's what you're going to do. I'm sending you a postcard today with my idea, and you can check off whether you want to sign me up.
E.: <puzzled look, can't get a word in edgewise>
N.W.: I went through all that before. I found a publisher, and they signed me up and sat on my book for a year. A year! And didn't do anything with it. So my brother drew up a letter of disillusion and I fired them. I'm never going through that again.
E.: Well, pretty much the only way to get published through us is to read the guidelines and then follow them. If I get your submission I'll give it careful consideration, just like every other submission. Thanks for calling, have a nice day! <click>
There are several things wrong with this scenario, number one being the fact that the author thought he could "fire" a publisher. It's unclear whether he was actually under contract with a reputable trade publisher, but from the context it doesn't really sound like he was.
Problem number two is that the author is showing right off that he's not an easy-going, professional guy to work with. Even if you have the most amazing, stunning ideas, if the editor can't stand you, there's a big chance she might pass, because such an author isn't going to take editorial direction very well. And don't get me started on the phrase, "Here's what you're going to do."
Problem number three is the obvious: he called. Even if you must call, perhaps it might be a good idea to be polite. But as you can probably imagine, if you catch an editor in a bad moment--such as when she's got a million things going on, which would be pretty much every day--she's going to be much less likely to be patient.
That said, the polite inquiries I get from time to time requesting information about an author's submission are welcome. Certainly if you haven't heard from me after a couple months you have every right to ping me--via email or snail mail--and check in on the status of your submission. I'm afraid I've been quite swamped since Christmastime and manuscripts I thought I'd get to several months ago have been languishing in the to-read pile, sadly neglected and--to use a phrase
tltrent just used the other day regarding silver and china--taunting me, giving me extreme guilt complexes. We've been slowly catching up on the backlog, don't worry! And I'll usually respond with a thanks for keeping in touch and for the polite reminder.
But (and I'm probably preaching to the choir here, but this is for posterity) calling is probably not your best option.
*Though this is a true story, this did not happen to me.
How do I get my agent in touch with you in regards to submitting a fantasy MG series of mine. Would he send to the slushpile? The reason I ask is that he is currently pitching to editors and I’m very interested in working with Mirrorstone and yourself.
That's great! I'm always open to new authors, whether agented or not. Agents aren't submitting to the slush pile per se--it just happens that we prefer mail submissions for logistical reasons, from both authors directly and from agents.
I think I've mentioned before that Mirrorstone is a very small imprint. I mean really small. In the editorial department there's me (the associate editor), the senior editor, and part of the time of an assistant editor. So don't worry--if something is addressed to me it ends up in my lap and I'll be able to tell right away that it's an agent.
You can find details on how we like to receive submissions at our submissions guidelines. The most important thing for an agent to know, of course, is that the address is P.O. Box 707, Renton, WA 98057-0707, sent to my attention.
However, if your agent has more specific questions, he's welcome to email us at mirrorstone [at] wizards [dot] com. We just prefer not to receive submissions at that address.
That's a very good question, especially from someone writing from a country far across the ocean. I'm very impressed with how Wizards--and pretty much the whole Seattle area--is very concerned about trying to protect the environment. And while I'd love to start taking email submissions for the sake of the environment--your point about airplanes carrying the mail and using jet fuel is important, because it's certainly not just the paper--the truth is that it's just plain hard on the eyes to read submissions on screen. I do a lot of work on the computer daily, but there's only so much I can do before my eyes just give up.
Do you read novels electronically? It's a similar situation. Especially for manuscript-length submissions, it's extremely fatiguing to try to read for long periods of time on screen. I love reading blogs, email, that kind of thing, but people's attention span on screen is much, much shorter than you want someone to have when reading a book--and you want an editor to feel comfortable enough to want to devote her time to your submission, whether it be 3 chapters or a whole requested manuscript.
The next option would be for us to take email submissions, but then to print them out on our end so they're more mobile. Most of us don't sit at our computers to read submissions--if I do it in the office, I'm shutting myself away in a conference room so I can have more quiet for reading, but usually I take them home to read at night; most of my colleagues do the same.... though I don't live in New York, so I don't have a train ride home to read on. (And speaking of the environment, how I wish I did! I really miss living on a great public transportation system!)
Sometimes we'll have a slush-reading party where we all gather in a conference room to read and discuss submissions, and it's much easier to pass submissions from one editor to another with comments written right on the submission--we reference the paper, hand it back and forth, discuss face to face.
If we printed them out so we could cart them around, that becomes our cost for paper and toner, rather than that of the submitter. That can really add up with the thousands of submissions we get each year.
So it''s mainly logistics, though partly cost. Perhaps one day when the computer reading tablet becomes affordable (I've heard of some advances in the technology and pricing, but never seen them in person), and they design such a tablet in a way that doesn't fatigue the eyes more than a piece of paper, it'll change. But right now, logistics really require hard copies through the early process, especially in the decision making phase.
To sum up, we're doing a little bit for the environment, and always looking for ways we can do better, but the technology for reading on screen has a way to go before it'll really be ready for what the publishing industry needs, and speaking in specifics, what Mirrorstone needs. And we of course have to deal with the equipment we have on hand, and none of us has those nifty tablets I spoke of above. :)
The caveat: I think
I completely sympathize. For me personally, as long as you know for sure that your email address is valid and will remain so for several years (just in case--for example, my friend Brandon's book was finally picked up a year and a half after he'd submitted it to an editor at Tor, and his now-editor had to do some major sleuthing to find him, because his phone number, address, and email had all changed by that time!)--as long as you know for sure it is typed correctly on your submission (and on every place it appears on your submission), you can forego the SASE.* (Hm, that's a lot of italics, but I wanted to be sure to emphasize all the qualifications I'm putting on that...)
That's JUST for international submissions, if that makes your life a little easier. As a general rule, especially for domestic situations, the SASE isn't just for rejections--it's an insurance policy in case you have a typo in your email address, or your phone number changes, etc. (again, ref. Brandon's experience). Sometimes it might be the only way an editor has to get a hold of you for one reason or another, with good news. And most editors aren't the kinds of detectives that Moshe is, and will just end up tossing your submission if they can't find you.
But the SASE exception I noted above is just me. It's much much better just to follow the guidelines if you don't know if an editor is okay with that.
*And if an editor likes your submission enough to overlook working with you across huge time zone differences and international boundaries, you can probably expect to do much of your correspondence after the initial submission via email for more logistical reasons.
So, I'm starting an infrequent series today I'll be labelling in the tags as FAQs. Here we go with #1, with of course identifying information removed.
My novel, the first of a proposed 7-book chapter series, uses children as the lead characters in a detailed fantasy world. It floats between the line of the more adult Wizards of the Coast readers, and the younger Mirrorstone audience. Categorically, it can belong to either, and maybe even both.
With that said, since the protagonists are children (and the wording is at the 7th grade level), would it be more prudent to submit it to Mirrorstone, or to Wizards? Is it possible to submit it to both imprints?
I just wanted to make sure I submitted it to the appropriate imprint. I wrote this initially as a young reader's book, and the tone and verbiage corresponds to that age. But its detail and rich character development is making me wonder a bit.
There are a lot of good questions in here that a lot of aspiring authors would be interested in. Editors use very specific definitions for different types of books, and knowing what those definitions are and how to use them will make your query letters stand out.
When someone says to a children's book editor that they have a chapter book series they'd like to propose, the editor thinks "early reader" for kids who have just learned to read, generally ages 6-8. Think Time Spies or Magic Treehouse or Junie B. Jones or Spiderwick.
So, let's get some clear definitions of the terms we use, so that everyone will be on the same page. Since I work with fiction, I'm just going to refer to novels, but this applies to nonfiction, anthologies, short stories, and other categories as well.
Chapter book--ages 6-8, a short story written with care taken for vocabulary, generally printed in a larger font and containing several illustrations. Not as dependent on illustrations as a picture book, but still quite a few. Broken up into short chapters to help new readers get used to the format of a regular novel, compared to the more word-sparse picture book.
Middle grade--novels written for ages 8-12. Pretty much anything in the young readers section at the bookstore--Harry Potter (Sorcerer's Stone, at least), Charlotte's Web, all those longer storybooks generally are considered middle grade, aimed at kids who are fluent independent readers who like a longer story. Genres abound in this section--mystery, realism, fantasy, science fiction, and many crossovers between classifications.
Young adult, or YA--novels written for teens ages 12-18. Again, pretty much anything in the bookstore in the teen section. You'll probably notice some crossover between stuff written for the older middle grade crowd and the younger YA crowd--Harry Potter is a great example of how the maturity level of the intended reader increases as the series is published--and some books are shelved in both sections. Again, genres in this category abound--fantasy especially is hot right now. And you'll also notice that some books in the teen section have once been published for adults. Lord of the Rings, for example, is published in many versions, one of which you'll find in the teen section. A lot of crossover between the older YA crowd and books published for adults, because teens tend to "read up," meaning that they read books meant for a slightly older audience. Great examples of YA fantasy include Holly Black's Tithe, Libba Bray's A Great and Terrible Beauty, most books by Tamora Pierce, the Abhorsen trilogy by Garth Nix, Shannon Hale's Goose Girl, and Charles de Lint's The Blue Girl. There are so many more out there, too. And Hallowmere, the first volume of which, In the Serpent's Coils by Tiffany Trent, will debut next fall, will be the first YA series to be published by Mirrorstone.
If you've written a story you think will appeal to teens, by all means, it's something to propose to Mirrorstone. And don't shy away from rich characterization and detail! The best YA writers use both (read Robin McKinley!)--plot is important, but should grow from great characters and their motivations. Generally, plots for younger readers (and here I mean anything under 18) tend to be more linear than plots in books for adults, but even so, that's just a generalization. Twists and turns are welcome, and we actively seek characters we want to care about.
The best way to judge whether it would appeal to Mirrorstone as opposed to Wizards of the Coast, which is our imprint for adults, is to go into a bookstore's teen section and see what's on the shelf. If your book would fit in better in the teen section than the fantasy section of the bookstore, then you know you're targeting Mirrorstone. If you'd rather see it in the fantasy section for adults, then the WotC imprint is probably a better fit.
That said, you have to be aware that the WotC imprint is only open for submissions from Sept. to Dec. every year, and is looking for very specific kinds of books. Follow the guidelines with exactness, and don't submit anything unless the website says that they're open for submissions. Do not submit to both imprints at once. It's much less confusing that way.
Now, if you're still not sure whether your book should be for teens or adults, the next thing to do is to get together with a critique group or other group of people familiar with children's literature, YA specifically. Contact your local chapter of SCBWI to find a critique group, or take a class in children's literature, or go to a writing conference. If you want to write for a market, you need to be informed within the market, so however you learn, do your research before pitching your manuscript.
If you don't know where your manuscript fits, it'll be that much harder for me to know if it's right for us. The manuscripts that stand out, in addition to the number one criteria of being well-crafted, are written by authors who know the children's book market and how it differs from the adult market.
Good luck!
But today I devoted mostly to finding new material. I must say, there are a lot of really good writers out there. When you're a small imprint looking for a small number of books, that makes decisions really hard. I'm not even quite to the final decision time yet, and I have a hard time ranking one book over another--most have their strengths and weaknesses, just like people do.
And I'll tell ya, it's going to be a tough decision, but it makes me excited and happy to know that we've got some great potentials for future years.
I'm home now, and I can't decide whether to keep reading this manuscript I'm wanting to finish, or to watch Bones and Jericho. I'll probably go for TV because my eyes could use a rest from reading, but it's a good thing to feel the tug toward a good book, even when I should let my eyes have a (physical) rest.
- Mood:
calm
I just discovered Wendy McClure's Let the Mail Prevail!: A Guide to Etiquette, Status Calls, and More, and I want to recommend it especially to beginning writers might feel inclined to call or email before doing their research or instead of using mail.
I don't mind if people want to ask me a quick question via email--I'm glad to answer. A quick question is the key point here.
For example, a couple people have emailed me several times a day with continued questions that would be answered if they'd read the submission guidelines I pointed them to in the first reply. And then, a sign to me of someone who isn't as professional as they should be, one continued to ask questions about specifics that I wanted, as if I were commissioning her work--how many pages or words would I want the book to be, how many illustrations would such a book have, etc. I finally wrote back, trying not to be terse, that if this person would just submit, we could consider their work and then we'd decide.
The main reason for my annoyance? This happened while I was in the middle of frantically trying to finish up a book. Like Wendy McClure says in the sidebar:
Are editors just hopeless Luddites? Not at all: they use e-mail and fax and overnight mail to stay in touch with authors and illustrators during the more frantic book production phase. Which is all the more reason for submitters to avoid these methods: why risk having your story or query pop up in front of an editor in the midst of his deadline emergency?
Email about slush pile questions when there are actual contracted books I'm stressing out over is a bad idea. (The only exceptions to this are authors who I already work with or who have already been published, who aren't technically in the slush pile anyway--they've already established their credentials. I'm speaking here of people who have no track record with me or another publisher--and these tend to be the ones that act impolitely and unprofessionally anyway.) Such questions are important, don't get me wrong, but not as important as the book in front of me, which is why sometimes I don't read submissions as quickly as I intend or would like. Much as I'd love to give the slush pile all the time in the world, I have books that have deadlines I have to meet.
Which segues to phone calls. One time I received a voice mail from a prospective author. He was no longer with his agent, so he was checking in to see if he could send me something directly. No, I don't mind--our submission guidelines say we take unsolicited/unagented submissions, which he would have known if he'd read them. But his contact information left in the voicemail didn't work. Well, I didn't try the phone number because I didn't want to have a conversation like Wendy McClure's example (A Big Don't: Selling Your Manuscript Over the Phone) which has happened to me once before. So I emailed him with the basics and his email was bounced back. If you're going to give me your email address, be sure it's correct!
I'm not a strict no-emails kind of editor, as some editors that I know are (probably because I don't get as much email as them). But when a prospective author communicates with me, I expect professional behavior. These people do their homework ahead of time and are only asking me the stop-gap questions. Google me. Google my imprint. You'll find interviews, the submissions guidelines, this LJ. If you don't know children's literature, do some research before asking me detailed questions about what I want. Odds are that if you know what's already out there, you'll have a better idea of what to submit, especially when coupled with information about what we're currently looking for.

I was wondering why you didn't accept e-mail submissions at Mirrorstone?
It seems to me that a publisher of science fiction and fantasy would be more attuned to the ecological aspects of e-mail submissions - no ruining the ozone layer with planes carrying mail, no trees destroyed for paper, no chemical companies polluting the water for ink, no garbage to burn...
At any rate, that's my question!
:-)