LIFE BY THE NUMBERS

I have conveyed my hatred of graduation speeches before, but there was one graduation speech I heard that actually meant something to me. When I was at the School of the Arts at Columbia, the great philosopher Bill Murray came and spoke to us.

The gist of his speech was: “Look, people thought I was going to be a huge failure, but then I got kind of lucky and made it. And I had and have lots of amazing friends, and we’ve seen each other’s careers go up and down. Take my advice: don’t go comparing yourself to other people. You will go insane. It’s pointless. Your fortunes may rise and fall, depending on all kinds of things you have no control over. Keep your friends. Never compare all the outward markers of success. Do what you love, because that’s all you really get and that’s all that matters and that’s all that will ever really work. And don’t be an as$h&^e.”

It was the only useful graduation speech I’ve ever heard. And it was much longer, funnier, and more nuanced than that—and it was specifically geared to us, because we were the School of the Arts. So this was advice to people about to go out and try to become actors, directors, musicians, visual artists, filmmakers, and writers . . . which is a little like addressing a group of swimmers about to do the 500 meter shark tank event.

Getting into the writing game can be kind of hard, and it’s an arena where you’re often judged by things that either you can’t control or things that have very little to do with your book itself. How your book will sell, what people will think of it, what cover it will get, what money will be spent to place it in prominent places in the bookstore . . . it's generally out of your hands. You will get unexpected bursts of luck from unlikely corners, and at the same time, people will slam you sideways in scathing reviews. All par for the course.

Nothing you can do about any of this.

If you are following the advice of Mr. Murray, the thing that matters is quality. It’s the only thing you can control. And quality is a slippery, slippery eel. For example, some people think that if something is popular and sells well, it must be kind of bad. There are other people who think that if something is popular and sells well, it must be kind of good. Neither of those things is universally true. Good things sometimes become popular, sometimes they don’t. Bad things can become raging successes, and sometimes, they slip back into the ooze. You must write the thing you love, and then you hope. You can play your cards smartly, but there’s no way to determine the outcome.

But we do live in an age of RANKING! Of POPULARITY! Editors sometimes buy books out of sheer love, and other times, just because they think they might sell. This has caused some people to worry (rightly) that we’ve entered a blockbuster mentality—where the trick is just to throw everything you have at a book if you think it might generate some sales.

And the truth is, when a publisher decides to put its chips on a book (and they usually do for one or two a season), that book is probably going to do well, and probably make the bestseller list. If they buy ads, if they spend loads on shiny promotions, and if they throw down some serious bank to buy premium space in stores . . . then people are going to see the book, see the shiny, and perhaps buy it.

This is the reality I personally live in, and I respect it. It’s the game I chose to play, because this is the game that allows me to write. And I’m not immune from it. Good sales mean I can do more writing! And I have causes to fund, like my Institute for Disco Studies and my Home for Wayward Hamsters** What defines good? Well, for me, anything that allows me to continue with these grand plans of mine.

But in general, I stay away from the numbers. Most of the writers I do the same, and these include some people who are pretty massive bestsellers. They avoid it because they know the numbers make you crazy in the coconut, and they distract you from the important things, like writing things you love, reading awesome books, eating snacks, and spending time with friends. Sometimes I hear of people who have a book about to come out who get a little nuts about looking at numbers. I can understand how this might happen. But, if you ask me (and I am fully aware that no one did): don’t do this. Because then your life will become about the numbers, not the books. And they are two very different things. And trust me, there are enough people looking at those numbers for you that there’s no reason to drive yourself up a wall about it.

Now, perhaps you are thinking, “But mj, I am not an author. I see what you are saying about the books, but what about ME? What about MY LIFE?”

Fair enough. Once again, you’ve dazzled me with the way you bring me back to the point.

I get a lot of e-mail (which you know I love, even though I sometimes have trouble replying). Some of you write to tell me about the books, but some of you write just to tell me about your lives, or your desire to become authors, or things that are happening to you in school. And the one thing I have definitely noticed is that you are not immune from these kinds of pressures.

There are a lot of numbers out there. Your SAT or standardized test scores. Your GPA. Your number of Facebook or Myspace friends or Twitter followers and whatever comes next. For some people, like the characters in Wintergirls, it’s all about the number of the scale or in that snack you want to eat. I know sports people have all kinds of numbers of their own, but I know nothing about sports, so you have to fill all that info in here.

The numbers all have a kind of meaning within their own realm, but when spread out over the world, they lose a lot of significance. The number on the scale tells you how much you weigh, not what you are like or what you are worth. Your SAT score tells you how good you do on that particular type of standardized test, and sheds a certain degree of light on your current skill level in math and English, right now, given all of your current life conditions. If you’ve been raised in an affluent household where academics are considered important, you’ll probably do better than someone who didn’t grow up under those conditions. Maybe you worked hard. Maybe you’re just good at standardized tests. Maybe you got lucky. Maybe you were sick, or upset. Your number of Facebook friends probably reflects the amount of time you spend on Facebook.**

You have to do things because you want to do them and because you love them (or at least LIKE them). The numbers themselves are innocent, merely offering a measure of whatever it is you wanted to know. When you stay obsessively focused on them, you tend to miss the bigger picture. You may end up like this:



“Okay,” you say, “I do that a little, but not NEARLY as much as other people I know. In fact, they are obsessed with EVERYONE ELSE’S numbers. What do I do about them?”

I know who you mean. You mean the person who comes up to you in the hall after some test you know they’ve aced and they ask you, all sweetness, “So, how did you do?” And you say, “I got an 83.” And they say, “Oh, that’s too bad. I got a hundred. Oh god. You must feel so awful.”

Obviously these people have problems, and a quick punch in the throat would probably be very educational for them . . . and while it is always tempting to perform a public service like that, forget about it. Life has a way of sorting these people out. Yes, it’s true. Some of them get to be rich and successful. But if they keep that up, no one likes them. Period. They do not live on the fun side of the street. They have their own kooky ranking system for the world, and they cling to it, and if the slightest thing goes wrong, they go insane. I HAVE SEEN IT HAPPEN! Have faith, friends.

It’s like Bill Murray said, the one thing you can’t do is start obsessing about how other people do—as if the successes of others somehow diminish you.*** Of course, there are all kinds of things that annoy me. There are people I have wanted to see go DOWN. But I’ve noticed that every time I dwell on this, I go radically off the path and down the bumpy, sure-death side of the mountain. And for what? This stuff never matters for long, if it matters at all, which it usually doesn’t. When others do well, celebrate! When they are down, help them up. If you follow the opposite of that, then you are probably an as$h^&e. Which means you should go back to the beginning of this entry and re-read Bill Murray’s final point, “Don’t be an as$h&@e.”

And love what you do.





* So why not buy a few copies of Suite Scarlett today! Do it for the hamsters.

** Twitter numbers, however, reflect your worth as a person so please follow me on Twitter immediately.

*** Unless that person is someone like Hitler, in which case you must absolutely worry about their successes and thwart them wherever possible. I’m just saying that you have to make a pretty clear distinction between “Actual Evil People Who Keep Freeze-Dried Orphans In The Basement” and “Other People Just Living Their Lives In Close Proximity To Yours.”

HOW TO WRITE A QUERY LETTER

Michelle asks: What’s a query letter, exactly, and how do you write one?

The truth is, Michelle, this is not something I really have to do very often. I mean, I wrote one or two a few years ago, but I don’t really remember what I said. I’m no expert.

I can tell you what they are, basically. Query letters are page-long introductions to your book (and, to a lesser extent, to you). They are designed to give agents a very quick idea of what you’re writing about, and ideally, to entice them to read a bit more. There are a lot of guides on the subject all over the internet—some good, some bad, and some very, very bad.

Because it is my duty to give you the VERY BEST advice at all times, I decided to do a little research on this one. So I sat down with my beloved agent Daphne Unfeasible, who reads hundreds of these at a go, and asked her what makes a query letter REALLY STAND OUT for her. She has listed these elements out for me, and I am going to illustrate them for you.

1. BRAG AND MAKE PREDICTIONS

First and foremost—agents want to see you have CONFIDENCE! You’re smart. You can smell a bestseller a mile away. Your book is going to be HUGE. Like, crazy huge. You’ve been following the trends (unlike these other idiots!) and you know what’s big. So compare yourself to as many bestselling authors as you can. This will definitely get the agent’s attention.

Also, agents really want to know how good of a movie you think your book will be. This is important because a). everyone knows movies are more important than books, b). you are the best judge of just how DRAMATICAL the material is.



Have I told you about ME?

2. TELL THEM HOW MUCH EVERYONE LOVES YOUR BOOK

You’ve given the book to your mom, and your neighbor, and maybe some children, right? And they loved it, right? Because, God knows, they’d never just SAY that to make you feel good. They MEAN IT. And agents need to know that you have personal acquaintances who think your book is awesome. There’s nothing like the hearsay of a few random, unnamed people to really show that this book has popular appeal.



"My friends love it."

3. “SHOW” YOUR “UNIQUENESS” WITH “UNNECESSARY” QUOTES

Look, agents are busy people, and they need to know which words on the page to stare at the longest. This is when you crack out a querent’s SPECIAL SEASONING. “Sprinkle” freely. See? See how you looked at that word? Are you even SEEING these words here, without the quotes? Probably not. That is why you must “use” “quotes” as much “as” possible.



Me, "working" with my "friends."

4. DON’T FALL FOR THE OLD “SUBMISSION GUIDELINES” TRICK

Rules are for stupid people. You know that, and I know that. Agents only put them out there as a test. So the agent says that they only want to see three pages, or one sample chapter. Pfffft. Send the whole thing as a BIG ATTACHMENT.



Rules are for little people.

5. IT’S MORE THAN JUST A BOOK—IT’S A PSYCHOTIC EPISODE

Nothing impresses an agent more than characters who like to escape from between the covers. Your characters are always chattering away at you—so let them keep right on talking in the letter! This shows you are creative ALL THE TIME and that the voices never, ever stop.



Shhhhhhhh! Can you HEAR them? They're TALKING again . . .

I’ve taken all of these concepts and combined them into one perfect query letter which you can use as a model!

Dear Daphne,

Sixteen year-old Bethagony Strong has never been to the dentist.*

Her parents have always had good explanations for this, like: “We can’t afford one,” or, “All the good ones are dead.” So she has never thought too much about those “fanglike” teeth of hers. But everything will “change” for Bethagony in one fatal gym class. When her teacher tests her breathing rate after a “burst of exercise” and discovers that she has none . . . she is immediately sent to Murkwater, the “mysterious school” in the mountains that only has classes at night. Once there, she notices that everyone has teeth just like hers, and nothing is what it seems . . . **

I would like to interest you in my vampire romance novel, Breathless and Toothy, which is “285,000” words long, every one of which will bring you CASH MONEY. I wouldn’t “waste your time” with anything that wasn’t going to make you rich. This book will not only be a major bestseller, it will then make a “blockbuster” film. Think Stephen King and Laurel K. Hamilton “wrapped up” in Nicholas Sparks bread with a side of Nora Roberts. That’s what this book is. I literally threw up in my mouth a little when I realized just what a success I had on my hands.

I originally conceived of this book as a series of six films, not unlike the Star Wars franchise. (I even started with part four!) Then I rewrote it into a television series, and from there into a non-illustrated graphic novel, and from there into an entirely new and indescribable form of text, movement, and flavor that I called “storymunch.” From there, at the behest of all my readers (one of whom called Breathless and Toothy “the most important work of art I’ve ever tasted”), I rewrote it into a novel. But even though I have reworked it into a “conventional” form, nothing can take away from my extremely powerful originality. There has never been a “story” like Breathless and Toothy.

The “novel” describes Bethagony’s adventures at Murkwater, a school for vampires. At first, Bethagony is in shock when she discovers what she is. But she soon adjusts and decides to run for vampire student counsel, become captain of the football team, reform the school’s blood sourcing policy, and stop a “1,000 year-long war” between clans of rivaling vampire factions. All this while she battles with the evil head of the cheerleading squad, Febrina, for the affections of the hottest boy in the school, Bartolo Nultoid.

“Are you talking about me? I’ll tell you what happens with that. Bethagony is totally hotttt!”

Shhh! Be quiet, Bartolo!

“But what about me? I have things to say, too! Tell her about the battle scene with the vamp-droids!”

Oh, Bethagony! I can never keep you quiet either! We have to leave some surprises for Daphne Unfeasible!

“But she has know what happens! Show her the book!”

I already have, Bethagony. I know the submission guidelines say that you only want to see one sample chapter, but the fact is . . . this can’t wait. Once you “get bitten” by Breathless and Toothy, you’re not going to be able to stop. Talent like mine is rare. So I have “included” a .pdf file of the entire book, along with sample cover ideas, flap copy, and some mockups of promotional Breathless and Toothy dental care products.***

Fanks!

[YOUR NAME HERE]

*Note the powerful opening sentence.
** You must ALWAYS use the phrase “nothing is as it seems” or “nothing will ever be the same” at least once in a query letter. It’s best to use both of them, actually.
**This is purely gravy if you have the time to do it. Agents love to see your cover mockups and marketing spinoff concepts.

UPDATE: Daphne has just read this and told me that I did it all wrong! These were all the things she does NOT want to see! I’ve made a dreadful mistake. I’m never doing this query stuff again.

HOW TO BE A GOOD BOSS

I am sorry about not posting for a few days. This is partially because I have been traveling back to New York (missing the YA prom in the process--I was supposed to be there), and partially because I thought it would be really smart to step on my computer. It wasn’t a huge step. Just a little trip, a few toes landing on the smoothy-smooth bit under the keys. I thought nothing of it when it happened.

Surprisingly, Gilda (my baby computer) did not like that at all. Especially since I seem to have crushed her disk drive. This amazes me and makes me feel powerful, like Godzilla.

Thank you for the many lovely comments about my first attempt at video blogging. John Green has told me that he wants me to video blog every week now, and that he will make me a Secret Sister.

Do I want to be John and Hank Green’s Secret Sister? YES!

Do I own a video camera? NO!

There’s the rub, readers. I borrowed the camera from Oscar. I explained this to John, and he said, “Oh, just buy one! They’re, like, ten dollars!”

John is notoriously off when it comes to figures, and he makes wild promises. He still owes me a thousand dollars from the time I got up and went out in the cold to get him a snack. Plus, I seem to be in a bit of a breaking streak. Gilda is only the latest victim.

It started when my computer bag broke. It’s pretty new, so I was surprised when the zipper popped out of joint and tore. Then I dropped my iPod headphones and stepped on them. The handle of my favorite mug snapped off in my hand when I picked it up. The bow on my favorite pair of shoes fell off. I broke the head off my precious plastic Japanese lady statue from the World’s Fair of 1939 while trying to put it on my head for a picture for John Green. The zipper on my suitcase snapped when I was zipping it up before going to the airport. And my DVD player is haunted and keeps opening and closing itself for NO REASON AT ALL.

I fear that if I buy the camera, it will explode the moment my credit card is accepted. I even managed to break my credit card a few weeks ago. Or rather, someone managed to break it for me by stealing my number. I found this out when I was blocked from buying a sandwich. I called up the company, and they said, “Oh yeah. We were just about to call you. Did you just buy $780 worth of stuff from NFL.com? In the name of David Jensen?”

Answer: no.

So, my credit card was canceled, and they had to send me a new one. This was clearly not my fault, but still. You can see this pattern developing, right? I’m not sure what to do—toy with fate and buy the camera, or sit in my apartment in a fortress of cardboard boxes and wait until this whole breaking spell is over.

I am happy to take your input on this matter. Like, if any of you are witches, could you maybe do some kind of spell to fix this up for me? In the meantime, let me get to one of your questions.

Anyway, question is: what's the difference between copyediting and proofreading and regular editing and anything else a book might go through prior to publication? I ask b/c I'm trying to figure out a good job for myself to try to get after graduation. :D

Editors, like my editor Emma Lollipop, manage books on a big scale. They buy them. They work with the author to shape and improve the story. Editors have to do many things aside from actual editing, like working with the marketing and sales teams and making sure the author doesn’t melt down and hide inside a cardboard fort.

Copyeditors work with a book or a piece of text once it’s done, checking it to make sure it is grammatically and structurally sound, that it makes sense, and ensuring that there is nothing in there that seems flat-out wrong. Copyeditors can have conversations about things like comma usage that go on for hours and hours and can sometimes end in blows.

Once the copyeditors are done, the changes are made. Sometimes mistakes are made during the inputting. Proofreaders check the prepared or printed copy against the edited version to catch these mistakes.

I did all of these jobs at once time or another. I was iffy at best at the last two. Proofreading bores me to tears, and I spent much of my time drawing pictures of fanged rabbits on post it notes for my friends at work before getting back to writing whatever story I was using work hours to work on at the time.

What was REALLY great, though, was when I was an editor and had an assistant. I thought my boss was crazy to give me another human being to command, but I didn’t breathe a word of complaint.

“Thank you,” I said instead. “I will put him to good use.”

My assistant was a very nice guy who I immediately gave the name Cartography Jones (Carto for short). There was no shortage of actual work, but it seemed ridiculous to waste a fine assistant like Carto on that. I had other ideas.

Every day, I had new demands for Carto. I would command him to go to the conference room, where I would try to hypnotize him (I was reading a book on how to hypnotize people and needed a subject). I cut out pictures of scary cats and marmosets and hid them strategically around his desk, so when he would move his mouse or pick up papers, beady eyes would peer out at him. I would sneak up on him when he was making copies for me in our spooky copy corner and frighten him. I insisted on having conference calls with him even though our desks were only a few feet apart. I had mandatory dancing times. I would tell him to steal me a car. I fired and re-hired him dozens of times a day, depending on my mood. He knew I never meant it. I couldn’t go a day without Carto.



Carto would often start the day by finding something like this peeking out from under his keyboard.

I’ll bet you that if he reads this he will tell you all about the hundreds of post-its I left on his desk. When he would ask for my comments or advice, I would silently hand him notes that said things like: I AM AN IMPORTED CHEESE, which were obviously no help at all. Whenever I actually needed to send him notes, I would make paper airplanes out of them and throw them at his head when he was least expecting it.

When his nerves were jangled by all of this, I made him drink one of the dozens of healing teas that I kept in my drawer.

“What you need, Carto, is a ginger tea,” I would say. “I know this because I am your boss and therefore very wise. Get that down you so that we can race our chairs down the hall.”

It’s probably best that I’m not doing that anymore. Anyway, I have too much writing to do. And a fort to make. And maybe a camera to buy. No matter what, I will be posting more this week—and I look forward to hearing from all you witches out there.