The Book Worm
Let me tell you a story. It’s about a wannabe fiction writer who wrote a novel. The novel was pretty awful. Even she could see that. The book was consigned to a dumpster. Another book landed there a year later. She wrote a third novel that seemed better. Though the wannabe had been warned that “over the transom” submissions were never read, let alone published; she sent it anyway. Her target was Tor Books. A week or so later an editor at Tor called her. “I like your book,” she said, “and plan to pitch it to the other editors at our meeting on Friday. I’ll call you with an offer Monday morning.” You can imagine what a very long weekend that was for the wannabe, but Monday finally rolled around. She waited close by the phone, but there was no call from the editor. By Wednesday the writer decided to make the call herself. You can imagine how shocked—horrified—she was to learn that the editor, a woman in her early twenties, was dead of a drug overdose. The Tor editors were in shock. No one knew anything about the manuscript. They were far too busy juggling the deceased editor’s immediate workload to be interested in anything new. It was back to the drawing board. Again the author-in-training submitted her manuscript over the transom, this time to HarperOne. About a month later the manuscript came back with a two-page single spaced critique from an editor. That was an amazing thing for a busy editor to do, but daunting to say the least for the recipient. She had experienced some degree of success with non-fiction writing, but now entertained serious doubts that she had what it took to be a novelist. It seemed unlikely that anyone |
would ever read her words, let alone pay for them. It was grim time of reckoning, but then a chance meeting with Jackson novelist, Helen Bonner, changed everything. The two women formed a critique group. The wannabe’s novel was one of many that benefitted from the sessions. Under Helen’s tutelage she learned to go deeper into her characters’ thoughts, to write about feelings not mere facts. Eventually the novel was completely rewritten and sent back to the senior editor at HarperOne who had originally rejected it. “I love it!” was her response. “Just give me a week to show the manuscript around the office.” A month passed with no word from the editor. Finally the wannabe summoned the nerve to call, only to learn that the editor had been fired in an office shakeup that had left only a skeleton crew. None of the remaining staff knew anything about the manuscript. Am I a jinx, the writer worried? Perhaps it was time to get someone to interface for her. She found herself a blockbuster agent and within two months the novel was sold to HarperCollins for a six figure advance. This is a true story, my own true story. The book was “Pilate’s Wife.” Why am I telling you all this? Because there are people out there who say that publishing has changed, that it is impossible to get an agent, that you have to “know someone” to sell a book, that you must be graduated from an elitist Eastern college, or an MFA program before anyone will even talk to you. That’s just not true. Eight years ago, while waiting publication of “Pilate’s Wife,” it occurred to me that if I could do it, anyone could. And that’s why I founded the Gold Rush Writers Conference, a non-profit event for any one who has ever wanted to write. This |
year’s conference will be held May 2, 3 and 4th in Mokelumne Hill. It will be larger than ever with a choice of 22 workshops. The 16-member faculty will address such questions as, how do you take the nucleus of a novel from draft to revisions and make it salable, how do you turn your manuscript into an e-book, and whether to use fact or fiction to tell your story. Co-chairmen Pamela Mundale and Kathie Isaac-Luke will discuss fiction essentials and short story writing. I will offer prompts for the novel you were born to sell and Helen Bonner will help you plot it. Lucy Sanna, who just sold her debut novel to HarperCollins, will discuss winning strategies for getting an agent. Perhaps you want to write for personal satisfaction or to preserve precious family stories, with or without publication as a goal. Then celebrity biographer Sal Manna will tell you exactly how to do it. By popular request, Tom Johnson will be back to dance you through the datasphere. There are workshops on poetry, indie publishing, word smithing. I could go on and on—after all, there are 22 of them. The Gold Rush Writers Conference is part of the Calavaras County Arts Council Literary League and is made possible by Poets & Writings, Friends of the Mokelumne Hill Library, and the Mokelumne Hill Trust. For additional information go to goldrushwriters.com/ or call me at 286-1320. I’d love to see you there.
Captions Some of the “Gold Rush gang, left to right, Kathy Fellure, Monika Rose, Linda Field, Lucy Sanna, Kathie Isaac-Luke and Antoinette May. (Please be kind and cut a bit off my arm) Novelist Michael David Lukas was the keynote luncheon speaker at last year’s Gold Rush Writers Conference. |