LIAR, LIAR

Sometimes people lie. They do it right to your face. Writers are not immune to this. Here’s a story about that.

One Monday morning, an author called in distress. She had just returned from a writers conference and had learned that another author had gotten a $2 million contract. The other author was no better than her. Why should that author get that kind of money?? What was she doing wrong? Let me reproduce the conversation:

Me: How do you know she got a $2 million contract?

Her: She said so. She was giving a talk and she mentioned her new $2 million contract.

Me: How many books are on the contract? It could be a lot of books.

Her: I don’t know.

Me: I see. Then how do you know she got that much?

Her: She said so. In front of people. I know her. She’s a nice person. And we have the same publisher.

Me: Have her sales spiked recently? Do you know what her numbers are?

Her: No.

Me: Then how do you know?

Her: She said so!

Me: And everyone believed her.

Silence.

Me: I’ve got an idea. Let me call you back.

We got off the phone. I called my author’s editor. I told her the story. “So and so just got back from a conference and she said that Other So and So got a $2 million contract. Is that true?”

Now, normally, I wouldn’t ask such a question and the editor would not be likely to share that kind of information. But this was so over the top that I felt comfortable doing it. I felt comfortable because I knew that both authors were in the same range sales-wise, and it just didn’t make sense. Because they had the same publisher and wrote in the same genre, the editor would know how they were both selling. What did the editor say?

Well, when she stopped laughing hysterically, she said of course that was not true. She howled “I wish!”

I called my author back and told her I had checked with the publisher and the $2 million claim was not true.

The author was incredulous. “You mean she—she lied?”

Me: That’s about the size of it. The editor thought it was pretty funny, though.

I was glad that I was able to shut that one down quickly. Agents know to brace themselves the Monday morning after a conference because of what their authors might have heard or experienced. There is often a fire that needs to be put out.

What can we learn from this story?

Lying is wrong. But you knew that. Everyone knows that. And yet people do it anyway. They do it all the time. But why is lying bad?

Because it wastes time. The truth is bound to come out, especially in a small business like publishing, and then you will never be trusted. Because it belittles both parties. When someone lies to you and you find out, how does it make you feel? You feel betrayed. That is not the basis of a good relationship.

Why did that author lie, and what did she think it would accomplish? I guess she thought it would make her sound like a big shot. But she was too easily found out and she looked like a fool.

The funny thing about this is that both authors did eventually get to a place where they were worth 7 figures. And I was happy for the one who lied. She was actually a nice lady who made a very foolish mistake. But I always knew. That was a long time ago, and I’m still remembering it today.

 

HOW I KNOW WHEN A MANUSCRIPT IS WORKING

After doing this work for as long as I have, I can sniff the good ones a mile away. It starts with the quality of the writing. I can tell that in the first sentence. Also, does the opening grab me? Even if it’s not technically perfect, do I want to keep reading?

Example:

  1. “Where’s Janie?” Mom looked up and down the beach, shielding her eyes with her hand as the waves crashed to the shore. “She was here just a second ago.”
  2. Mom and Janie and Teddy and I were all at the beach. The sun was shining and we were thinking about going into the water.

Which of these openings is better? Example A gives us something to worry about. Example B does not.

It’s really that simple. Experienced agents and editors can usually find out all they need to know from the first page alone. We will keep reading until we know for sure, and that doesn’t take long.

If I encounter a silly spelling mistake or a serious grammatical error on the first page, I am likely to go right to Delete. If you can’t produce a manuscript without mechanical errors, you’re not going to get very far. Check out: “Please read my memoir about pie polar disorder.”

Most manuscripts do not hook me from the start. That’s never a good sign. A good writer can start with a description of a valley or someone’s face and make it interesting and absorbing. But most writers don’t know how to do that. Don’t think you have to start with someone jumping out of an airplane to create tension. It can be any little thing, as long as we want to know more.

The average time I spend on any manuscript is about one minute. If I spent more, I wouldn’t have time for anything else. The good ones tend to jump right off the page, and that’s what I’m looking for.

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