Blood & Rhetoric

Again, I found this via Nathan Bransford’s blog: Vanguard Press, Imprint of the Future.

Where Jonathan Karp’s Imprint 12 focuses on a small catalogue of books along with intense advertising and promotion to generate sales; Vanguard Press, run by Roger Cooper takes an even more unusual approach in that it asks the author to share in the initial investment.

Translation: NO advance, but a much larger investment put into marketing along with higher royalties and monthly paycheques being paid out based on book sales.

I was directed to Editorial Ass: Less is More via Nathan Bransford’s blog, and I can’t believe I missed this the first time around.

Jonathan Karp’s imprint 12 revolves around a very basic concept: 1 book per month; 12 books a year:

That means a given catalog has only four books in it, tops. This means more focus on quality, where only one book is getting an editor’s complete attention at a time. It also means the slashing of arbitrary initiatives (many publishing companies incentivize their departments and employees by the number of acquisitions and books published, which makes sense in a quantitative way but in a qualitative way inadvertently encourages editors to acquire books they don’t care about in order to scrape their margins together).

Jonathan Karp brings with him 16 years of experience from Random House, so my assumption is that he knows what he’s talking about.

More focus on quality. Not quantity. What a revolutionary concept, eh? And 7 of their first 10 published books have become NYT bestsellers.

Less crap published, and deserving novels and authors getting the attention (and money) they deserve.

I think this is something to get very excited about.

With so many seemingly in a tizzy about the future of publishing and the drastic ways the industry has (and must) change, here’s something that actually makes sense.

I hope this a business model others start adapting.

On the streetcar, sort of nodding off and jerking awake. I’d had the sort of day where you wake up already exhausted and it never quite comes together from that point. The kind of day where existential angst keeps creeping in on you and you start to wonder what, if anything, is worth it anymore. And so I arrived ten minutes late to the prearranged meeting place he had suggested– which turned out to be a cozy, intimate restaurant, and I was a little perturbed by his choice of location but shrugged it off to paranoia. After all, although this felt eerily similar to other situations I had been in – situations gone horribly, awkwardly awry – it was no reason to jump to conclusions.

He would know me from my picture but I had no idea what he looked like, and so I stood nervously at the door, scanning the mostly empty restaurant; waiting for some lone soul to claim me.

I felt like I was on a blind date instead of a “business” meeting – a feeling that would only increase in intensity as the night went on — but I’m getting ahead of myself here.

And then finally a tall, dark, handsome man in a suit comes over and introduces himself.

We’ll call him Jack. Because I like that name

We’ll call him George.

The “business” in question was a potential job. One of those multifaceted types that included writing, blogging, marketing, and video hosting with television potential (they all believe the television potential line) and so basically it translated into your typical media gig of insanely long and irregular hours with third-world-country standard hourly wages.The ad was seeking an “attractive and engaging female host with strong verbal and written capabilities” and I like to think I am those things. So I applied with my resume and headshot and “George” contacted me for a face-to-face meeting.

And so here I was at this stupidly trendy restaurant. Your typical Toronto spot serving the standard generic-Asian-fusion fare at inflated prices.

And here George was talking about everything but the job at hand. And asking a lot of personal questions.

And it’s starting to get awkward because he’s complimenting me.

Him: “You know, Jana, you seem so different from the models I typically work with.”

Me: “I think that might be because I am neither a model or your co-worker.”

(Thinking: thanks asshole. Is this akin to the Say are you a model? pick-up line other jackasses are so fond of using on women? Every woman? Because you’re starting to make me feel like I want to rip your face off.)

Insert long tedious monologue by him where he expounds upon the various times in his illustrious director/producer career where he’s gotten a “break” for other nubile young females like myself working in the media/writing field – or “modeling” as he refers to it interchangeably. This speech also includes him telling me he’s been compared to George fucking Clooney (who says that?) and name-dropping all the Very Important People he’s “friends” with.

At this point I haven’t mentioned my boyfriend yet, as I’m still clinging to the hope that this is in fact a business meeting and not a surprise first-date and I’m putting on my most glacial Eastern European façade in the hopes of deterring him. The glacial Eastern European thing usually works very well for me, but it’s obviously going straight over his head.

And as the minutes tick by, it starts to feel too obvious to even mention a boyfriend as I obviously am on a surprise first date, and mentioning one will make me look like one of those girls who lies to deter unwanted suitors and then this train-wreck of an evening will be even worse.And I shouldn’t even have to do that, goddamn! Because this is a meeting right? An interview? A professional thing? Right??

Oh no it’s not? You mean that’s asking for too much? Yes, indeed.

And to make a long story short: I cut the evening early and went home feeling dirty and confused.

And this brings me to my point: I fucking despise 99% of the people who list themselves as being in the “entertainment industry.” Fucking hate ‘em. I’m friends with some wonderful people in the field. But I’m also acquainted with some of the biggest pricks. I’ve unfortunately dated this breed of man and he is invariably the most obnoxious, selfish, egotistical, insecure asshat you will ever spend time with.

Kinda like a lot of the assholes in “finance” or the striped shirt guy, but possibly worse.

I’ve been in too many situations watching a group of insecure posers preening for their peers — who have neither the clout nor the influence they themselves believe they do — practically begging to suck their cocks for a chance at something. Anything. But dear lord gimme something

And I see a lot of writers doing the same. Begging and pleading and stalking agents and editors.

And I just want it to stop.

I stayed up late the other night and CityLine was airing one of it’s hilariously bad soft core porns and I stopped to watch for a few minutes because the TV menu guide listed the description as something about a writer — and of course the plot revolved around a young woman with enormous titties fucking and sucking her way to a publishing contract.

Granted, I seriously doubt that this happens ever, or often anyways, but it did make me giggle. And then my sleeping boyfriend woke up on the couch and gave me a weird look. Right before asking if we could reenact the scene on the TV.

I’ve bitched about this book trailer business before, but now this post on GalleyCat caught my attention.

HarperCollins has announced the launch of an in-house digital video studio.

They plan to shoot approximately 500 videos annually, and it seems as though the focus is going to be on author’s talking about their work. Trailers for novels themselves will be mostly outsourced.

And the public still won’t care.

I will continue to maintain that this is all a rather lame attempt at marketing that won’t work out in the end. Money can be better spent elsewhere — like in a larger advance!

So back to business: I need to diversify my (writing) portfolio! Badly. So I’ve decided to contact a number of NGO’s, charities, and not-for-profits to offer my particular services.

I’ve found a ton of links on Volunteer Match that need “Virtual Volunteers,” and many require writers for web content, newsletters, press releases, articles etc.

It’s working for free, and it’s probably taking on more responsibilities then I reasonably have time for right now, but seeing as how I’ve been wanting to volunteer for ages, and I really do need a more varied portfolio, it’s also killing two birds with one stone.

Should be interesting.

I’ve read some advice out there that states you should aim for including as much as possible in your portfolio, including pieces of work that aren’t your best. That sounds completely messed up to me. I have no desire to show potential clients crap, nor do I think that dozens of articles are necessary, but I do need to show them the full range of my capabilities and talents.

I’m actually really looking forward to this; although, there is a part of me that feels guilty for volunteering only to satisfy my own needs and goals.