Speak To Me

As a writer, you're the best representative for your work. That means you're going to be meeting people and talking about your work. A lot.

Since Whiskey Sour was published in 2004, I've spoken to tens of thousands of people in the course of visiting more than 1200 bookstores and attending over a hundred library events, conferences, and conventions.

In most cases, the talk is one-on-one, chatting with a bookseller, fan, or potential fan about my work. I've covered pitching and handselling in previous blog entries.

But in some cases---and these cases are becoming more frequent---I'm speaking to groups of people. This requires a different approach.

If you're like most of the world, you fear public speaking. The very thought of getting in front of a group of twenty, eighty, seven hundred people is enough to induce nausea.

I'm here to say: Get over it, you big baby.

Being asked to speak is a golden opportunity to spread your brand, strengthen your name-recognition, and kick-start the almighty word-of-mouth that we writers all crave. But before I get into the things that you need to keep in mind when speaking in public, let's dispel some of those irrational fears.

Dying in front of a crowd isn't dying in real life. Though having a joke bomb is uncomfortable, and looking out over your intended crowd and seeing people sleeping is a huge kick in the ego, neither of those things is fatal to your lifespan, or even your career. Humiliation isn't that big a deal. You're a grown up, and you need to realize that it isn't necessary for everyone to like you. Who really gives a shit what some stranger in the front row thinks of your speech, your book, or you in general? How is their acceptance going to make you a better person? It isn't.

People want you to do well. This isn't high school, where people are forced to be there. When you speak in front of a crowd, these folks came specifically to hear what you have to say. They're either already fans, or they want some information and/or entertainment. They're rooting for you.

People don't care if you bomb. Have you ever seen a really bad speaker? Have you ever watched someone crash and burn in front of an audience? As a result, did you throw fruit, call them names, or try to physically pull them off the podium? No. You tuned them out. That's all. That's the worst that can happen. If you screw the pooch on stage, people tune you out. You should be used to it. Every time you're in public, people tune you out. Malls, traffic, concerts, events, and everywhere people gather, we ignore each other. People ignoring you while you speak should be no more damaging than people ignoring you on the beach, even though their beach blanket is three feet away from yours.

Now that we've established the worst that can happen is boring a few strangers, here are some ways to make sure you don't bore them, but instead thrill them.

1. Know your audience. I've spoken to third graders, high school kids, high school teachers, college students, grad students, newbie writers, professional writers, library patrons, librarians, booksellers, book clubs, and fans of all types. In each case, they had different expectations of what they wanted from me. In every case, my job was to make sure these expectations were exceeded. If you're unsure what a group's expectations are, ask.

2. Prepare. Once you understand what is expected of you, you need to tailor your speech to their needs. The more of your audience you incorporate in your speech, the better their reaction will be. Then practice practice practice.

3. Act and react. A speech isn't a monologue. It's a dialog, with you doing most of the talking. You need to keep an eye on your audience, and make this an interaction. People tend to dislike being lectured to. But they can be made to feel included by simple things such as eye contact, asking questions, and your responses to their reactions. You aren't talking to an empty room. And audience is an organism that needs care and feeding. DO NOT read directly from your notes, or recite memorized passages. Communication is a two way street.

4. Evolve. If you're a Marx Brothers fan (and you should be) you may have heard that the best bits from some of their most popular movies were refined by performing them in front of audiences. They would change lines from town to town to figure out which got the biggest laugh. As you speak in front of more and more groups, you'll discover what works and what doesn't. Keep what works. Hone what doesn't until it works too.

5. Watch yourself. It's good to encourage feedback at the end of any speech in the form of Q & A, or by simply asking the person who invited you to speak how you did. But chances are you can be lied to, and told you were better than you actually were. If possible, record your performance and watch it later. You'll learn more from that than anything else, by far.


Here are some quickie Dos and Don'ts for public speakers.

DO introduce yourself to members of the audience beforehand. A smile and a handshake helps get them on your side before you go on stage.

DO make sure you stay within the time limit, while still leaving room for questions at the end.

DON'T use speech hesitations like "uh" and "um." It's annoying and unprofessional.

DO use note cards so you keep with your agenda, but don't read from the note cards.

DO thank the audience at the beginning and ending of every speech.

DO stick around after the speech and make yourself available for extra questions, comments, and feedback.

DON'T be a jerk. Ever. Maybe travel was hellish, and you got half the crowd you'd expected, but always remain upbeat, gracious, and professional. One speech leads to another, and even speaking to a crowd of two people can result in future opportunities.

DO dress for success.

DO give your audience a way to get in touch with you after you leave. Mentioning your website is essential.

DON'T oversell your wares. Sure, you want people to buy your books. But this isn't a commercial for them. People want information and entertainment, no ads.

DO have water nearby if your mouth gets dry. But don't drink so much during a long speech that you fill your bladder.

DO ask if a bookseller will be at the event to sell your books. If not, ask if you can bring your own.

Finally, as more speaking engagements are offered to you, you'll find that you have to set some rates. When you're just getting started, at the very least you can still ask to be compensated for travel expenses. As you become sought after, what you charge is up to you. My current rates are between $300 and $2500 per event, depending on proximity and what is expected of me. If you're unsure of what to request, offer to take an average of what they paid their last three speakers. But always make damn sure they get their money's worth.

Stealing

If you've ever stolen anything, raise your hand.

I'm typing one-handed right now.

Yes, I'm a thief. Me and millions of other people worldwide all share the same particular brand of larceny.

We download stuff for free.

Now let's get the legal argument out of the way right now. Copying media, whether it is burning a CD you got from the library, lending your mom your VHS recordings of House, borrowing your friend's Microsoft Office key, or downloading JA Konrath's audiobook version of Bloody Mary on Demonoid.com, all of that is stealing. You do it, you break the law.

Now that we're clear that anything you get for free that normally costs money is stealing, we can (if we desire) approach the moral argument. Is it stealing if there is no actual theft of property?

On one hand, digital media is a bunch of 1s and 0s, which can freely be duplicated and distributed. On the other hand, the originator of the material deserves to be compensated for her efforts.

Morality isn't black and white. Never has been. History has shown that morals are dictated by the majority of any given population at any given time.

Now, in the age of Internet and digital copies, more and more people are sharing data. Movies, video games, computer programs, TV shows, music.

And books.

Books have two main digital formats, e-books and audiobooks. And if you go to the usual places, you will find both formats being shared in substantial, growing numbers.

Chances are, if you're published on audio or as an e-book, you're being stolen.

Usenet is a huge, untrackable source of this piracy, to the tune of 1.8 billion downloads a day. Yeah, I said billion.

Among the top 200 visited websites on the Internet are Rapidshare.com, Megaupload.com, Badongo.com, Mininova.com, Mediafire.com, ThePirateBay.org, ZShare.net, 4Shared.com, IsoHunt.com, Easy-Share.com, Torrentz.com, and FileFactory.com. These are file sharing sites, either using Bit Torrent technology or password-protected file lockers. They're getting millions of hits a day.

Other p2p sites include Kazaa, Limewire, eMule, Gnutella, Kademlia, Megaupload, Overnet, FastTrack, and Ares Galaxy, while other bit torrent sites include BTjunkie, isoHunt, myBittorrent, Torrentz, Suprnova, and Jamendo.

At any given minute, tens of millions of pieces of digital media are being stolen.

And I'm okay with that.

I've long been a proponent of the "give it away for free" school of thought.

I want fans. I find fans in libraries, where 300 people can read my book with me earning no more than the original $3.00 royalty on the hardcover sale. Why wouldn't I want to reach 1000s of people?

"But," the naysayers yell, "you own the copyright. You should be the one to decide who gets your books. I should be allowed make that decision for myself."

Well, go ahead. Make your decision. Then decide what you're going to do when you discover people are stealing your work anyway.

Copyright isn't enforceable in a digital world. Digital media wants to be free. You can object legally, morally, spiritually, however you want to. People are still going to trade and copy your work, and you aren't going to be paid for it.

Changing public opinion isn't an option. People are going to keep sharing files and downloading content for free. No public awareness campaign, stiffer laws, or tougher media encryption is going to change that. People who would never take a grape from a grocery store have no difficulty at all downloading the entire discography of They Might Be Giants on a file sharing network.

So let's take an unofficial poll, to which you can respond anonymously.

What is your definition of stealing, and have you ever stolen digital media?

Talk to me, you thieving little vixens.

Risky Business

Let's talk about risk.

According to the dictionary, risk is the quantifiable likelihood of loss or less than expected returns.

Many activities have some sort of risk associated with them. Travel. Sex. Sports. Even eating, though the risk may be long-term.

If you look up stats on car accidents, or heart attacks, you might wonder why we still speed or eat french fries, because the risk is great.

The answer is that we weigh the benefits of these activities against the risk, and judge them worth doing anyway. So we dive 100mph while eating a gordito, because the odds are in our favor that we won't have a burnout and then v-fib.

Gambling may be the most calculated, and the most honest, risk we expose ourselves to. The rewards and risks, and the odds for both, are all laid out for us.

But our careers, on the other hand, are places where we tend to minimize risk as much as possible. We feel fortunate to be employed, and much of what we do is geared toward making sure we stay employed. Since our families are often tied in with our jobs, we can put up with a lot of crap at work in order to make sure the people we love have enough money, food, clothing, shelter, and XBOX 360 games in order to be happy.

When your job is one that involves a great deal of luck (you knew I'd get to publishing, right?) and you've worked very hard to be published, the last thing you want to do is rock the boat and lose your place in line.

Writers are conditioned to be grateful. We should be grateful---more people make their livings playing major league baseball than writing fiction. But that doesn't mean we should devalue ourselves.

I've always been about making money for my publisher. I feel a writing contract is a partnership, and if one partner is making money, so is the other.

But what if your partner isn't doing all they can, or should, be doing? You're doing your best. Writing good books. Promoting like crazy. Making money. But rather than try to grow, your partner is content with how things are. And your partner assumes that you're content as well, because you're damn lucky to be published in the first place.

I feel this situation is a problem. Perhaps not for all writers. Some may be happy with where they're at, and content to ride the status quo. Other writers, however, feel frustrated and trapped, because leaving their publisher and/or agent to try and go elsewhere involves a great deal of risk.

Is a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush if the bird is crapping all over your wrist?

One of my many core beliefs is that we should die regretting the things we haven't done, not the things we've done. Making a mistake is better than doing nothing at all.

Yes, walking away from an agent or publisher is hard. After all, they believed in you. Gave you a chance. Made you some money. You like them, and they like you. And if you leave them, you may wind up worse off.

But writing is a business, and the most successful business people take risks. That's just the way it goes. You have to be willing to lose big in order to win big.

How do you know it's time to part ways with your business partners? Here are a few signs.

You aren't getting feedback. If your agent/editor doesn't reply to your concerns in a timely, efficient manner, you aren't high on their priority list. Why should they be high on yours?

You're being handled. If you're treated like child, patronized, condescended to, then this isn't a good relationship. Ditto if you're shuffled off to underlings.

You have different plans for your future. This is a big one. If you want to go somewhere, and they want you to go somewhere else, how hard are they going to work to get you where you want to be? Even if you both want to get to the same place, do you agree on how to get there?

You aren't growing. Look inward. Are you doing all you can to grow? Are the people who are supposed to help you to grow actually helping you, or hindering you?

You want more money. Face it, we all want more money. But you can't ask for it politely. You have to demand it, and go elsewhere if you don't get it. But you will never win a negotiation if you aren't willing to walk away. Is your agent willing to play hardball, even if she loses? Is your publisher so committed to your success that they're willing to make a substantial investment in your future?

You aren't happy. This is ultimately the only thing that counts. Playing he said/she said doesn't do anyone any good. You need to take a close look at your professional relationships, weigh the good against the bad, and decide if you want to stick around.

But that's the thing. It's YOUR decision. It's YOUR career. Yes, other people are helping you make money, but you're helping them as well. Your books, both past and future, are a commodity.

Commodities are traded, bought, and sold, all the time. They change hands. Many hands.

Look closely at your career. Is it time for you to change hands too?

Reviewing Reviews

I just got a pair of reviews for my latest Jack book, FUZZY NAVEL (July 8, 2008), and it got me thinking about something:

Reviews sell books.

I know this for a fact, because I buy books after reading reviews. It doesn't even matter if the book was given a thumbs up or thumbs down. I read reviews for content, not opinion, and reviews alert me to the existence of the types of books I normally buy.

If this works on me, I'm guessing it works on other people. As a counter example, I've never bought a book because I ate a piece of candy with the book cover image glued to the wrapper. Because of this, I don't pass out snacks to potential fans. But I do try to get reviews.

Unfortunately, getting reviewed is becoming harder and harder.

The first reason: Too much competition. There are 200,000 books being released every year, and too little space to review them in. The bestsellers get preferential treatment, leaving the rest of us midlisters to fight for scraps.

The second reason: Too few publications review books. As newspaper circulation dwindles, so does advertising by publishers, which reduces or eliminates the book review pages.

I haven't gotten a lot of print reviews. No big ones like the NYT, ET, or People, and not many by bigger newspapers. My big hometown paper, The Chicago Tribune, has never reviewed me, even though my books are set in Chicago. Though my other two Chicago papers, The Sun-Times and the Daily Herald, have reviewed me, but in both of those cases knowing the reviewer probably had something to do with it.

Genre mags have been good to me, and I've been reviewed in EQMM, The Strand, Mystery Scene, and Crimespree, but they've each missed a few titles.

The trade mags (Booklist, Kirkus, Library Journal, PW) have all reviewed me, but again they've missed a title here and there.

The Internet has been very kind. Lots of book review sites and blogs have mentioned my books, and Amazon.com reviewers continue to post their comments about my oeuvre.

How does a writer get reviews?

Usually a publicist, either in-house or independent, sends out galleys or ARCs to reviewers along with a brief letter and perhaps a press release. Reviewers can receive over a hundred books a week, even though they only have space in their column to review six books.

Sometimes an author will send books directly to reviewers, and this personal touch may improve their chances. But it's expensive, time consuming, and there is still no guarantee you'll be reviewed.

A good way to get reviewed is to already be a bestseller. Then reviewers will seek out the book, because they know their readers are anxious to hear it. But even then, some reviewers might pass on reviewing the latest Patricia Cornwell if given the chance, and might embrace a smaller author whose book they adored.

Since competition for print reviews is so stiff, many authors are concentrating on the Internet. The World Wide Web has the advantage of being Googleable forever, which can lead people to your book for years after it's been published. But most of the review sites are small, getting very few hits. While it may be great that you're reviewed on 100 blogs, you have to consider the cost-effectiveness of it. Sending out 100 ARCs will cost about $500 (double if you have to pay for your own ACRs), and you may only be reaching an audience of 50,000 people total. Two million people read the Tribune, and it only cost you $5 to send the ARC.

I've seen authors offer free copies of books to Amazon reviewers, which seems silly considering the very small number of books Amazon actually sells.

I've also seen authors give free books to bloggers, which is a somewhat better prospect, but even then you have to consider cost-effectiveness.

It's a dismal situation.

Writers and publishers spend big money on ads and fancy multimedia websites, with unspectacular results.

They spend big money on galleys and ARCs, even though the overwhelming majority of them don't lead to reviews.

More and more books are being released, with less and less print venues to review them in, and Interent reviews are probably not cost-effective to procure.

So what's the answer? Here are a few:

1. Buy reviews. I'm not talking about paying a reviewer. I'm talking about getting a more famous peer to review your book, then using that as the basis for print ads. If your publisher has an advertising budget, it's a much better use of their money if they run 200 words about your latest, reviewed by a known writer, than the standard book cover/author photo/blurb.

2. Schmooze. Reviewers are people. Meet them. Be nice to them. Chances are they'll remember you, and you'll have a better shot at being reviewed than the thousands of authors they don't know.

3. Give away ebooks. While mailing out review copies to people with small blogs probably isn't cost effective, you can email them a pdf file of your latest for free. You'll have to clear this with your publisher first. Remind them how much they spend on galleys.

4. Become a reviewer. Many of us have blogs and MySpace pages. There is also Shelfari, Twitter, GoodReads, Amazon, BN.com, and many others. Review your fellow authors in as many places as possible.

What are some other good places to post reviews? I want to hear them. By the end of the week I'd like to have a semi-comprehensive list of all the major places fans can review books. Then I'll repost this blog entry with the list at the bottom, to the service of all writerdom.

In the meantime, I humbly ask you to review my books in as many places as humanly possible.

Yes, I'm serious. Review my books. Right now.

Contests

If you're a fan of the Claire Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne mysteries written by friend and literary dynamo Julia Spencer-Fleming (and you should be) she's giving away free books on her website.

If you aren't a fan yet, I'm giving you a chance to become a fan.

Go to www.juliaspencerfleming.com, read the excerpt for her latest novel I SHALL NOT WANT, and answer this question:

"What job does Hadley Knox swear she's going to take?"

Email your answer to Julia at julia@juliaspencerfleming.com. Five lucky folks will get free books. Tell her JA sent you...

I'm always harping about how writers need to improve their public speaking skills, and I just found out another friend of mine has written a book on the subject. USING STORIES AND HUMOR, by Joanna Slan, is all about grabbing your audience (figuratively.)

Post your most embarassing public speech story here, and the winner will get a free copy.

Last, but not least, I found an extra advance reading copy of FUZZY NAVEL hiding under my desk.

Send me a picture of you holding one of my books. The most creative pic gets the copy. Runner ups get something else for free--I have a few dozen magazines with my stories in them.

Now go have at it.

Uncertainty

Writing isn't a career for the weak-hearted.

Besides the regular perks of self-employment, such as spending countless hours on your tax return, being without health insurance, and lack of regular paychecks, there is also what I consider to be the the most daunting aspect of all:

The fact that, at any moment, you won't have a career anymore.

Many things conspire to sabotage our livelihoods.

Signing with a bad or mediocre agent is like putting your all your money on a three-legged horse to place. Even good agents can be wrong sometimes, which is why they're unable to sell much of what they acquire.

Your editor can quit. Your publisher can change agendas. Other, similar books can tank, squashing plans for yours. Like all companies, publishing houses often have good employees and bad employees, and who winds up in charge of editing, promoting, and marketing your book is a crapshoot---especially since only 1 out of 5 books makes a profit anyway.

Bookstores may not buy your book sufficient quantities, or reorder stock when it sells. They can shelve it wrong, ignore coop placement, refuse to stock your backlist, and do a hundred other things that could hurt your potential sales.

The readers may not buy it. They may not like it. They may not know it even exists.

I've often said that you have to sell a book several times in order to actually earn a royalty. First, to an agent, then to an editor, then to the publisher, then to distributors, then to bookstores, then to the customer. Anywhere along the food chain, tragedy can occur.

No, this isn't a career for people who want or need security.

But the worst thing about being a professional writer has to be this:

Being between contracts.

It's true that your second book is harder to sell than your first. Numbers follow you. If your sales aren't strong, your career is pretty much over.

When you have a contract, and a guarantee of a book coming out and a check coming in, you breathe a little easier. That's real, concrete, something you can count on.

But then your contract ends. And, for those who haven't been in this position before, I have to lay down some bitter truth here: it can be weeks, or months, before you get another contract. Sometimes even years.

You'd think that a publisher who has been growing a writer for several books will want to immediately reassure the writer that there will be more books to come. This isn't the case. Deciding to offer a new contract depends on many things. Numbers, money, in-house enthusiasm, trends, backlist sales, critical response, the influx of new people and farewell to old people at the publisher, new imprints, closed lines, and so on.

Plus, since your publisher often has a first look option for your next book, there's no rush. You give them a manuscript or outline, and they can take up to three months to make an offer.

This waiting time is hell.

If you're a guy, it's like having to propose to your spouse all over again every few years. And ladies, it isn't romantic. It's nerve-wracking. The possibility of being told no can terrify the stoutest heart.

So, when you're between contracts, how should you deal with it? After so much booze, so much fingernail chewing, so many phone calls and emails to peers who assure you that of course you'll get an offer, what can you do to keep your spirits up?

Here are some answers:

Write. The best way to cope with the anxiety of being without any visable means of support is to get another iron in the fire. The more projects you have completed, the better your chances at selling one of them. While you're waiting to get a contract for one book, write another book. Or a screenplay. Or some short stories.

My latest book was on submission for almost six months before it sold. In the meantime I wrote another book and a screenplay--which are now on submission. I'm currently working on three other projects. Writer's write. They don't wait around with their fingers crossed.

Believe. I'm not big on faith. I prefer cold, hard, provable facts, and think hoping and wishing for things have as much use as guilt and worry--in other words, no use at all.

But having confidence in my work, and knowing that if this current project doesn't sell, the next one will, is how I'm able to sleep at night when I'm between contracts. I believe I'll succeed. Without resorting to mantras, daily affirmations, or self-pep talks, you can also believe you'll succeed by remembering the following:

• You've got talent.
• You're constantly honing your craft.
• You're smart.
• You're dedicated.
• You work hard.
• You keep writing.
• You won't ever give up.

Actually, that does sound like a self-pep talk. But so what? You need to believe in all of these things if you truly want to be successful.

Success isn't about accepting "no." It's about searching until you find a "yes."

Think. This one is the hardest. While writers tend to be overly introspective, they aren't normally self-critical. After all, in order to have confidence and believe in ourselves, we have to trust our writing, our goals, our business plans.

But we should only trust those things after they've been proven.

I posit--and I'm 99% right--that your worst enemy in this business isn't your agent, your editor, or the publishing industry as a whole.

It's you.

If you're not being offered contracts, if your career is flagging, if you've been rejected a gazillion times and don't understand why, it's because you aren't looking hard enough at what you're doing wrong. Because, believe me, you're doing something wrong.

Yes, publishing comes down to luck. But odds play a part in luck. And if you understand odds and stack them in your favor when you can, you eventually have to win something.

If you're doing more losing than winning, you need to figure out why. It's not the casino's fault--their odds are set. It's your fault, because you're a shitty gambler.

Here are some things to consider:

• Check the writing. It might not be as sharp as you think it is. Get other people's opinions and demand criticism, not praise. Figure out what you're doing wrong. Examine the lock before you make the key, study the markets, understand the genre you're writing in, and figure out your place in the machine.
  
• Evaluate your professional relationships. If your agent isn't working for you, dump her. If your publishing house isn't behind you, leave them. Don't settle for scraps, because then scraps are all you'll get.
  
• Examine your goals. Are these attainable goals (I'll send out 50 queries, finish the book, and rewrite the outline) or goals that are beyond your control (I'll get an agent, become a bestseller)? Unrealistic goals not only cause disappointment, but your structure for reaching them is invariably flawed.
  
• Look at yourself. No one thinks they're difficult, negative, stubborn, or demanding. Yet, at times, all of us are all of these things. Projecting them professionally is the kiss of death. Observe and understand the effect you have on others. If someone insults you, even constructively, assume that a hundred other people think the same thing but don't have the guts to tell you.

Like everything in life, the more you have control over (your craft, your drive, your attitude, your relationships) the less uncertainty you'll encounter.

There will still be uncertainty, because success still requires luck. But empowering yourself with knowledge, awareness, confidence, and good old-fashioned hard work is a lot more productive than holding your breath and hoping.

Now uncross your damn fingers and get proactive.

Peers and the Healthy Writer

I've been doing a lot of travelling lately, giving my standard inspirational talk to newbies (if you've seen my tattoos, you know the talk I mean) and a topic that keeps coming up is the importance of peers to today's writer.

Peers are both the most and least important people in your career. It all depends on what you use them for.

Here's a quickie rundown of everything peery.

Herding Instinct. If you're a newbie writer who lives a Unibomberish existence off the grid, you aren't reading this. For the rest of us, seeking out like-minded folks is part of our genetic code.

Since writing is a solitary profession, meeting other writers--both online and in real life--is a way to reassure ourselves that we're normal after all. Most writers have the same concerns, problems, and fears. Depending on your experience, there's always more to learn and tales to share.

This is good. Networking offers opportunities to question, evaluate, test, and explore the reasons we work the way we work. We all can learn a great deal from each other, and Internet forums, blogs, bulletin boards, groups, and discussions, along with writing conventions and conferences, book fairs, and literary festivals, are the perfect way to do this.

You obviously read this blog, but do you contribute to it? Do you ask questions, offer advice, and communicate? Communication is a two way street, and you learn more from give and take than you do simply lurking and watching.

Critiquing. While trading insider secrets is a great reason to hang out with other writers, the best way to use your peers is as readers. If you haven't ever joined a writer's group, you should consider it. If you're already published, offer to trade manuscripts with your peers before your agent or editor has a look. I do this with many different authors, and I always learn a lot.

While it's always nice to be praised, it's much better to seek problems with your work, so those can be fixed before the book reaches the street and the hate email starts pouring in.

Critiquing goes both ways, and you can also learn from reading a peer's manuscript and articulating what can be made stronger, and possibly how.

Approval. While I endorse forging some ties with a few close writing friends, for the most part you don't need to worry about the acceptance of your peers. While a certain percentage of them--especially if you do a lot of appearances--will buy your books if they like what you have to say, the fact is that your peers aren't your main audience.

Worrying about who is saying what about whom, feeling snubbed because you never got that nomination or award, and wondering why those cliques of popular authors never seem to include you--that's all wasted effort on your part.

You don't need to be accepted by the writing community, the genre community, the awards committee, your local writing organization, or any other group of individual in order to be happy or successful.

The opinion of your peers, as a group, simply doesn't matter.

High school was a long time ago. If you like yourself, and have at least one person in the world who also likes you, that's all you'll ever need.

Blurbing. Try to blurb everyone you can. When asking for blurbs, don't be aggressive, or disappointed if it doesn't work out. That's all that needs to be said on the subject.

For an alternate viewpoint of this, check out Barry Eisler's blog post over at MJ Rose's Buzz, Balls, and Hype:

http://mjroseblog.typepad.com/buzz_balls_hype/2006/09/blurbersion.html

Commiseration. Hanging out with writers, talking the talk, is always helpful. But sometimes you need something deeper. Things happen in the career, both good and bad, and often we don't know how to react to them. Sometimes we need a peer to offer their perspective. Sometimes we just need someone to bitch to.

This is where the line between peer and friend begins to blur. Try to keep them separate.

A peer is a fellow writer.

A friend is a favored companion.

All peers are not friends, and all friends are not peers.

If you can land one who is both, cherish that relationship, because you can benefit greatly from it. Just remember to put back in what you take out.

And remember to never air dirty laundry, yours or anyone else's.

Advice. As you move up in the writing world, more and more people will ask you for your advice because they want to get where you're at.

Offer that advice, but always make sure they know that your way isn't the only way, and that just because you're a so-called expert doesn't mean you know everything.

And make sure, when you hear expert advice, you remember that as well.

There are few universal truths in writing. Learn what you can, test things for yourself, and discard what doesn't work.

Support. We need to help each other, not hurt each other.

That involves two basic principles.

1. Not thinking or acting like you're better than anyone else, and never publicly criticizing other authors.

2. Being friendly, accessible, and professional.

Treat other writers like you want to be treated, no matter their experience level, or how incredibly obnoxious, small-minded, or oblivious they are.

Being right is not an excuse for being mean. Being successful is not an excuse for being self-important. Being honest is not an invitation to getting attacked.

Help others and keep the negativity private.

That said, I've officially declared tomorrow, May 3 ,to be "Hug Another Author Day."

Tag, you're it. Spread the word. Virtual hugs are okay too.

And, as always, thanks for reading. Hugs to all you folks. :)