It does not get easier
My debut novel, NORWEGIAN BY NIGHT, was rejected by so many publishers I stopped thinking about it. I know some writers keep track of these sorts of things, and some have even papered their walls with them, but I've never been one for histrionics or vanity projects. I haven't even framed my degrees. I figure … they're in my head. And if they don't express themselves in my words and deeds then they're rather pointless.
There must have been at least twenty, though.
My game plan at the time was this: I get published. I get descent sales and good reviews. I get a second book published on those grounds. I don't choke on the BIG SECOND NOVEL and instead show my range. Then, established, I open the aperture wider and start to have some fun. I publish what feels right; I bring in solid advances (read, $80-120,000), and after about three or four novels my back catalogue will start to kick in with the royalties to pad out the missing income from the advances. If I work hard and smart and get a killer novel out every eighteen months, I should be solid after five novels and living well so long as the well doesn't run dry.
I literally would bank on my imagination and hard work.
And, of course, at some point, Hollywood would come knocking and a movie or TV series would bring in the big money and give me some financial depth to ride out the bad times or else enjoy myself if they never came (knock on wood).
So how did that go?
[insert chuckle].
Not so well.
My first novel sold respectively and gained excellent reviews. I did not choke on THE GIRL IN GREEN and instead wrote a book I still love and that was critically acclaimed without exception.
My third novel, AMERICAN BY DAY, was the most fun I had writing in ages and Irv was a hoot. It landed me an advance "in the zone" and I was able to stay off the ropes.
And then … COVID.
I wrote three novels: RADIO LIFE, QUIET TIME, and HOW TO FIND YOUR WAY IN THE DARK. It was a train wreck.
RADIO LIFE is an epic science fiction novel that I'm convinced would be a brilliant series. But it was only published in the UK and never even sold in the U.S. And this was despite glowing reviews in the Financial Times and the Sunday Times among others. It was complete overlooked and broke my heart.
QUIET TIME was the only semi-autobiographical story I ever wrote (and I suspect, ever will) and it was intimate and funny and sad and timely and my agent told me not to publish it as a book because it would compete with RADIO LIFE as they'd come out at the same time and I had no time to wait because RADIO LIFE didn't pay me much. So it became an AUDIBLE ORIGINAL and never saw the light of day as a novel. That broke my heart.
And then came HOW TO FIND YOUR WAY IN THE DARK, a novel selected as a Best Mystery of 2021 by the New York Times, and became a Finalist for the National Jewish Book Award (previously won by Bernard Malamud, Elie Wiesel, Philip Roth, Safran Foer and other obscure authors like them). I was given my lowest advance yet because of lackluster prior sales, my former editor left, and because Houghton Mifflin Harcourt was so terrible at selling books they were bought out by Simon & Schuster and my novel got lost in the shuffle because — among other matters — it was handled by a junior editor who lacked the skills to see it through the acquisition.
Later, I had a fight with my literary agency (I have since been profoundly vindicated, and no, I won't go into details) and went to seek other representation.
Writers House took me on (bless them), and helped THE CURSE OF PIETRO HOUDINI into the world. But it was a challenging launch and still hasn't found its proper audience.
Now — on book eight — I have sent out LITTLE SATAN: A DANGEROUS NOVEL to wide, MY, consideration because my previous publisher didn't know what to do with it so we opted to withdraw it from consideration and put it out to market.
That means, I'm eight novels in (no movie, because those who wanted to make NORWEGIAN BY NIGHT really blew it) and I'm risking it all by sending the new manuscript out to everyone.
The state of affairs, ladies and gents, is that it's project to project, moment to moment, and it's a crazy way to live a life. My ex-wife couldn't take it. Or me. One of those two, but they're so intertwined they not be separate factors.
All of which is to say, it does not get easier. And yet … onward. Because what else?
There must have been at least twenty, though.
My game plan at the time was this: I get published. I get descent sales and good reviews. I get a second book published on those grounds. I don't choke on the BIG SECOND NOVEL and instead show my range. Then, established, I open the aperture wider and start to have some fun. I publish what feels right; I bring in solid advances (read, $80-120,000), and after about three or four novels my back catalogue will start to kick in with the royalties to pad out the missing income from the advances. If I work hard and smart and get a killer novel out every eighteen months, I should be solid after five novels and living well so long as the well doesn't run dry.
I literally would bank on my imagination and hard work.
And, of course, at some point, Hollywood would come knocking and a movie or TV series would bring in the big money and give me some financial depth to ride out the bad times or else enjoy myself if they never came (knock on wood).
So how did that go?
[insert chuckle].
Not so well.
My first novel sold respectively and gained excellent reviews. I did not choke on THE GIRL IN GREEN and instead wrote a book I still love and that was critically acclaimed without exception.
My third novel, AMERICAN BY DAY, was the most fun I had writing in ages and Irv was a hoot. It landed me an advance "in the zone" and I was able to stay off the ropes.
And then … COVID.
I wrote three novels: RADIO LIFE, QUIET TIME, and HOW TO FIND YOUR WAY IN THE DARK. It was a train wreck.
RADIO LIFE is an epic science fiction novel that I'm convinced would be a brilliant series. But it was only published in the UK and never even sold in the U.S. And this was despite glowing reviews in the Financial Times and the Sunday Times among others. It was complete overlooked and broke my heart.
QUIET TIME was the only semi-autobiographical story I ever wrote (and I suspect, ever will) and it was intimate and funny and sad and timely and my agent told me not to publish it as a book because it would compete with RADIO LIFE as they'd come out at the same time and I had no time to wait because RADIO LIFE didn't pay me much. So it became an AUDIBLE ORIGINAL and never saw the light of day as a novel. That broke my heart.
And then came HOW TO FIND YOUR WAY IN THE DARK, a novel selected as a Best Mystery of 2021 by the New York Times, and became a Finalist for the National Jewish Book Award (previously won by Bernard Malamud, Elie Wiesel, Philip Roth, Safran Foer and other obscure authors like them). I was given my lowest advance yet because of lackluster prior sales, my former editor left, and because Houghton Mifflin Harcourt was so terrible at selling books they were bought out by Simon & Schuster and my novel got lost in the shuffle because — among other matters — it was handled by a junior editor who lacked the skills to see it through the acquisition.
Later, I had a fight with my literary agency (I have since been profoundly vindicated, and no, I won't go into details) and went to seek other representation.
Writers House took me on (bless them), and helped THE CURSE OF PIETRO HOUDINI into the world. But it was a challenging launch and still hasn't found its proper audience.
Now — on book eight — I have sent out LITTLE SATAN: A DANGEROUS NOVEL to wide, MY, consideration because my previous publisher didn't know what to do with it so we opted to withdraw it from consideration and put it out to market.
That means, I'm eight novels in (no movie, because those who wanted to make NORWEGIAN BY NIGHT really blew it) and I'm risking it all by sending the new manuscript out to everyone.
The state of affairs, ladies and gents, is that it's project to project, moment to moment, and it's a crazy way to live a life. My ex-wife couldn't take it. Or me. One of those two, but they're so intertwined they not be separate factors.
All of which is to say, it does not get easier. And yet … onward. Because what else?
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James
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Jul 02, 2024 04:25AM
It's a cruel, crazy business, publishing. In fact, one could argue that it isn't really a business at all, but more like a chuck a luck wheel at a carnival. One of my three former agents, a fellow I like very much who could never manage to sell my work, told me that 90% of all books published don't make money. I have no idea if that is true, but even if's "only" 50%, that says a lot about the gatekeepers' ability -- or inability -- to read the market. Hang in there. I enjoy your work very much, and I admire your pluck. Thank you for not giving up. BTW, I am a long-time resident of Natick, MA, have a stepson who went to Wellesley HS about the same time you were there, and have a memoir coming out with Avid Reader next March, the year I turn 80. It doesn't get any easier, but as you know as well as anyone, the joy is in the work itself; any recognition is just icing on the proverbial cake.
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Wellesley? Avid Reader? Natick? How do we not know other? About 1% are published from the slush pile. Well under 10% earn out their advances. One percent OF that one percent get advances in excess of $100,000, which sounds respectable until you realize 15% goes to the agent and the 85K remaining or so is paid in thirds over 18 months. And taxes, etc. So to be a novelist earning a solid $150K a year on your own steam is not a gamble rationally taken.
The joy IS in the work, but the trick is being able to keep doing it. Recognition is … whatever. I'm past all that. Now I focus on the love the craft and the arguments I need to make to others about the value in creating it, reading it, and studying it. The humanities are under attack. I know some lines of defense that are not being used. I want to get into the fight but it's tough.
I'll look for your book. Thanks for the kind words.
Here is the advice I like to give to young people who are interested in the arts. It comes from Jackson Browne's "Running on Empty." "Gotta do what you can just to keep your love alive./Try not to confuse it with what you do to survive." He wrote that when he was about 28 years old. I don't know how he got so wise at such a young age, but if you want to be, say, a landscape painter or jazz trumpeter or short story writer, the key is to find a way to keep your love alive and not quit or give in to cynicism as you struggle to pay your bills.
You can email me at jedojim@yahoo.com and we can get to know one another better in a non-public forum.
Derek, greetings,So sorry to hear this history. As you know (from a previous discussion re the cover) I loved 'Girl in Green'. Time for a reread, this time will have to be a library copy as I have purchased two previous copies and sent them out into the universe (not by choice, but they have obviously found a home on someone else's shelf.
I don't understand why Radio Life was never published in the US! My local library purchased it at my request. Norwegian By Night was a book that, for a while, I was recommending to anybody who asked me about books.
Norwegian by Night was such a pleasant surprise that introduced me to this author. The Girl in Green was a gorgeous wrenching experience. American by Day is a masterpiece that would have pushed its way onto my Top 10 of All Time list of novels, if I could be persuaded to keep such a thing.I am now off to the interwebs to track down copies of the novels not sold in the US presumably due to the short-sightedness and likely stupidity of an American distributor. Harumph.
