Tag: publishing

A Little Thank You

lindaktaylor2 Comments

During the last weeks we’ve been building our tribes, looking at our bookshelves, finding out who inspires us.

Who did you discover? What is it about that person’s writing that does it for you?

You know what you need to do next?

You need to write a “charming note.”

The term comes from a book by Carolyn See called Making a Literary Life (Random House, 2007). She advises that every day, five days a week, you write a charming note to someone whose work you appreciate.

Literary lifeShe actually writes notes–you know, with stationery and an envelope and a stamp. Awhile back, I personally wanted to reignite the art of letter writing and I began to actually write letters to various and sundry friends. Alas, I didn’t get any back, although a few responded by email.

If you have some nice stationery gathering dust in a desk drawer somewhere, pull it out. Carolyn says in her book not to use anything floral or those notes with the Monet paintings on them, but personally, I think the very fact that you might actually write a note and mail it cancels out the flowers or Monet (although seriously, think about the impression you give by what the note looks like). She suggests getting some of your own stationery with your name professionally printed at the top–like those old-time calling cards. Not a bad idea. Of course you’re writing to them and it’s about them, but it can’t hurt to have your name on your correspondence in a classy way.

You don’t have any stationery, you say? Just some note cards with your last initial on them? That’s okay. Get started.

Seriously, it’s never been easier.

If you want to actually write a physical note to a physical address, you might be able to locate an address online, or at least a publisher’s address. You can always write to the author in “care of” a publishing house.

If you’re just not the “find a stamp” type, write your note by way of the person’s web site. Or find him or her on Facebook and write it there. Or Tweet it if you have to (it’ll have to be really short . . .).

Now, who was the last person who “wowed” you? You need to tell him or her. You need to write a charming note.

Carolyn See suggests this to her students: “Why not divide the note into three paragraphs of three lines each–the first one about their work that you like so much, the second saying who you are and why the work touched you, the third suggesting politely that you’re looking forward to the next thing they’re going to write?” (45).

And don’t be embarrassed. Think about it. How do you feel when someone takes the time to thank you–for anything? Sure, if you write to Stephen King to tell him how On Writing changed your life, you may never hear from him. But write to Alice Hoffman who published a wonderful essay about the “permission to write” titled “Introduction: Storyteller” in the Winter 2011-12 issue of Ploughshares magazine and chances are you might hear back from her. Then check out her novels and children’s books. You might make a new friend, a new person to add to your tribe because she inspired you.

Write to someone who is unknown and just starting out, and imagine how much it will mean to that person!

As citizens of the literary world, we should show our appreciation for others’ work by letting them know, and then letting others know.

Do that by blogging about it and sharing links, by talking about it, by buying the books or subscribing to the journals and . . .

. . . by writing “charming notes.”

If five times a week is daunting, then just do it once a week. Surely at least once a week you read something you like. It doesn’t have to rock your world–maybe it just made you think, or inspired you, or gave you a new idea.

Be willing to cross genres. If you’re a nonfiction writer, read fiction, poetry, flash. Gaze at some photographs in that literary magazine. It’s okay to write the poet and thank him or her for a piece that moved you—even if you didn’t fully understand it. You don’t have to be a scholar, just an appreciative audience.

It doesn’t even have to be “literary.” Perhaps the article by Carrie Neill in the November/December 2012 issue of Poets & Writers (“The Medium Is the Message”) about the future of print publishing helped you understand something that was heretofore mysterious.

And it doesn’t have to be current. Maybe what you read was from the 2005 issue of Ninth Letter that you found at the library or on the table at your doctor’s office (really? Give me the name of that literary doctor!). In any case, who cares how long it’s been? Art is art. Inspiration is inspiration. Write a note.

Be sincere. This isn’t about you. This isn’t about trying to network or “brown-nose.” Remember, we’re all just writers in this together, keeping literature and books and good writing alive.

Say thank you.

Remember what your mom taught you? A little thank you goes a long way.

Who Inspires You?

lindaktaylor4 Comments

Who is in your tribe? I know I’ve been thinking about that this past week and considering who I want to travel with in this literary life.

This week I read (and highly recommend to you) Austin Kleon‘s book, Steal Like an Artist (Workman Publishing, 2012). It’s a fast read, a little book with lots of fun visuals that packs an important punch when it comes to our discussion of literary citizenship.
steal
One of his points is that there’s nothing new under the sun, so all of us are really getting our ideas from other people–“stealing” them as it were. “The artist is a collector. Not a hoarder, mind you, there’s a difference: Hoarders collect indiscriminately, artists collect selectively. They only collect the things that they really love. . . . Your job is to collect good ideas” (13-14).

Where do you collect good ideas? Your tribe and the conversations you have and the books you share and the literary magazines you read and the bloggers you follow–those are places to start. And Austin Kleon advises that you look to history as well. What classic books do you absolutely love? Which ones are on your shelves because . . . well, just because they do something for you? They speak in a way that no one speaks anymore. Find that one author and study everything you can about him or her–lifestyle, writing habits, opinions about writing and publishing, and of course, writing style. Then find others who had an influence on that writer and study them. Build your own “creative lineage,” as Kleon calls it. Add them to your tribe. They won’t mind. In fact, as Kleon notes, you can apprentice with them totally for free. “They left their lesson plans in their work” (17).

Then, what current writers are doing it for you? Who would you be a groupie for if authors had groupies? Who would you wait in line to meet? Who is writing in a way that causes you to just sit back and say, “Wow”?

What literary magazines do you subscribe to? Whose blogs do you follow? What online journals do you consistently read? Whose writing amazes you?

As citizens of the literary world, we should be studying and learning from those writers who inspire us.

Build your creative lineage, as Austin Kleon says. Collect good ideas. Surround yourself with the people (present and past) who bring out the best in you, who challenge you, who give you great ideas. (And you’re not really “stealing,” but you’ll have to read Austin’s book to understand what he means.)

Be inspired. And chances are, you’re inspiring someone else, though you may not even realize it.

Discover the people who do it for you. Share their books. Talk about them. Buy them. Give them away. Blog about them.

Just tryin’ to practice what I preach.

Membership Has Its Privileges

lindaktaylor3 Comments

In last week’s blog, I talked about what it means to join the writing world. So if you’re going to join that world, the literary community, what—exactly—does that mean?

Communities exist everywhere—from clubs and organizations to online groups. The big ones get together at conventions. It takes folks of very particular interests to attend Comic-Con, or the World Orchid Conference, or the Association of Woodworking & Furnishings Suppliers fair (have to hold my husband back from that one). People attend these conferences because that’s where they find like-minded people passionate about comics or orchids or wordworking.

We’re all looking for our “tribe,” that group of people with whom we can talk about what we care about. Jeff Goins describes this as a “place to belong. We want to be heard and known, to actually make a difference. We know we need community.” We join these communities because we love to talk about what we care about. We want to learn from each other.

It’s the same with writers.

Sure, we spend a lot of time alone in our garrets tapping away on our keyboards. Sure, we’re quiet and observant. Many of us are introverts.

But we still need each other.

We need to commune with other writers who understand what it means to have days of writing where nothing seems to work. We need to discuss particular aspects of our craft. We need to find our “sub-tribe,” those writers who have our same passion for political satire, novel writing, flash fiction, fantasy, memoir, how-to, or writing about cats. We also need fellow bibliophiles who love books and readers who absorb magazines and blogs—after all, if we don’t have an audience for our words, then who will read them?

The term we’re using for membership in this world—“literary citizenship”—is taken from an article on Brevity magazine’s web site called “Be an Open Node” by Blake Butler. (Apologies for some of the language in that post, but his points are important.) We’re borrowing the term “literary citizenship” to discuss what it means to be a member in the writing community, to have citizenship in the literary world.

Maybe you’re saying, “I’m fine. I don’t need a community. I have plenty of followers on Twitter or readers of my blog.” Or maybe, “I don’t want to join a community. I just want to write my book and sell it. Then people will find and follow me.”

I would argue that, first of all, if you’re a serious writer trying to sell your work or get it “out there” in some form, you’re already a member of the writing community. And so it follows that to be a member, you would do well to find the privileges of membership by following some basic guidelines. (People dress differently at Comic-Con than they do at the World Orchid Conference.) No, there aren’t really rules in the writing community, and no we don’t have a dress code (good thing), but in order to be good literary citizens, we should start with one very important step:

As citizens of the literary world, we should constantly give positive contributions to it.

Do this: Imagine you’re at your favorite little coffee shop. Around you are some of your favorite tribe members. Maybe one of you has been recently published. The rest of you are working at various phases of your manuscripts. What are you talking about? Won’t you offer your services to tell everyone in the rest of your “other” world about your friend’s new book? Won’t you help your other friend work out a sticky plot point? Won’t you discuss the most recent book by another favorite author—and recommend other books to one another? Won’t you then go purchase some of those recommended books?

That’s what I’m talkin’ about.

See? We need each other. That’s the first step. There are many ways to contribute positively to our literary world. And you know what? What goes around comes around.

Let’s talk together about being good literary citizens and the privileges membership brings. I’ll tell you what I’m learning as I go, and please feel free to tell me what you think and what you do.

You’re my tribe, so I’m eager to hear from you!

Joining the World of Writers

lindaktaylor12 Comments

I’ve revised my blog a bit to take advantage of a new pathway my life has taken over the last couple of years. I began the blog simply to write about the experiences my husband and I have had moving from our little plot in the suburbs to our couple acres in the country–complete with many (many) animals. I surely haven’t exhausted the topic (after all, you haven’t heard yet about even more cats who made their way to us!), and I may even return to it from time to time should the situation warrant. But I’m excited about some new things in our lives (not counting becoming parents-in-law again or now being first-time grandparents).

Many of you know I’ve been working in various areas of publishing for the past 30 years. I walked into my first job not even knowing proofreader marks! The last 20 years or so I’ve spent working with Livingstone, most recently as editorial director. Suffice it to say, I’ve seen publishing change drastically in my time (you’d think I was ninety years old looking back at steam engines–but it almost feels like that when I consider the way I do my job now as compared to when I began).

I love editing. There’s just something about words. How they look on the page bumping up against other words. How they sound. The pictures they bring to mind. I love the search for the right word. I love to make a clunky sentence sing. I love to change “their” to “they’re” (or “there”) when the writer gets it wrong. I love helping writers sound the best they can.

And I love writing.

And I love books.

So all that to say that our journey from the city to the country brought me to a place physically where I already was mentally–it was time to finally get that master’s degree and then begin teaching in order to pass along some of what I know to the next generation.

So here I am, a 54-year-old married grandma graduate student sitting in classes with folks who could be my children. How energizing is that? I love it! Really, I wish I had had half the wherewithal these kids seem to have when I was their age. The students in my Editing class where I teach as an adjunct seem to “get” so much more than I ever “got” at the time. And right now, as part of my research paper/thesis preparation this semester, I get to sit in on a class with one of my favorite professors, Cathy Day. She is creating this class called Literary Citizenship, teaching Creative Writing students what it means to join the world of writers out there in the real world. These students already tweet and have fan pages and web sites and blogs–again, I wish I’d had that kind of gumption in my day (does “gumption” make me sound old? Well . . .).

Think about it–to join any kind of group or community, you have to follow a few ground rules that are just part of being associated there. To pledge a fraternity or sorority, you need to follow certain guidelines. To join a church, you need to make a particular statement of faith. To move into a certain area in town, you need to understand that once in awhile you may be required to open your historic home for people to view (ask Cathy about that) or maybe be part of the annual block party. I had a friend who moved into a house on a cul-de-sac and learned that she was required to have only white Christmas lights on her house–no colored lights. That would mess up the “look” of her community’s little circular part of the world at Christmastime.

Well, Creative Writing students are writers who need to realize they are part of a bigger community of writers. And many of you are writers–writing books, articles, essays, stories, blogs, reports, or even simply journaling your thoughts. You, too, are part of that community. Publishing has changed over these last few decades. You see, it used to be all about getting published. Now, push a few buttons and anyone can be a published author. (That’s good and bad, but also a topic for another blog post.) I like the fact that indie presses are out there taking chances on some of us “little folks” who might not break in to the Big 5. I like the fact that a family member can write up a family history and create a book as a keepsake for his or her limited (but appreciative) audience. Publishing is changing, and it can be tough to keep up. But as writers, we need to realize that it isn’t just about us; it’s about the community of writers–that “world” of writers. It’s about us supporting one another and the writing we create.

It’s all about becoming good literary citizens.

What does that mean? More to come here, but please also follow the rest of my class members’ blogs (the ones who have gumption, remember?) and our fearless professor, Cathy Day, at our Literary Citizenship web site.

Wanna be a writer? Become a good literary citizen. Join us on the journey.