The rubber boots of reality

The road to perdition is paved with good intentions.  I sort of feel that way today after going an entire month without posting a blog here.  The only legitimate reason I have is that preparations for the new year buried me.  I’m finally out from under, so we’ll be back on schedule this week.  I’ll try to make up for the four weeks off with an extra post here and there.  I’m sure that doesn’t matter much to you, but it’s a way of making psychological amends to myself.

I can’t begin to tell you how satisfying my work is to me.  I’m thrilled to finally do what I love full time.  It took a number of years to get to this point, and I wore every “hat” in the industry, including that of Writer/Author.  I spent alot of time talking to other authors about their experiences making a living as a writer.  While some things change as the years roll on, others stay the same.  One of the things that stays the same is the admonition once given me by James Michener:  Keep one foot on the ground at all times.  Don’t dream of a house in the Hamptons and expect someone to hand it to you.  Make it your goal.  Work for it. 

I am always amazed at the number of potential authors who think that it’s all about the massive advance they just know their Wonderful Work will garner.  In fact, I had a rather lengthy conversation with a writer who is in the midst of changing agents because his former agent wasn’t bringing him big enough offers of advance.  He doesn’t see the work in front of him as a viable manuscript, marketable on its own merit, but as a document he spent hours researching and writing, and time is money.  He wanted to be paid for the time he put into it before he got to the finished product.  He tallied up the figures and decided he would take no less than a certain amount in order to make publishing the book worth HIS time.  He then proceeded to tell me that he would either get the proposed amount as an advance, or he wouldn’t publish the book.  It seemed a little unrealistic to me. 

I wondered if he understood the basis of the advance, that it’s speculative funds based on sales.  I asked him if he was prepared to pay the remainder back if the book doesn’t meet the goals of the advance.  He said he’s never heard of any publisher making an author pay back the remainder on the advance.  I laughed.  I sure have.  I remember distinctly one case several years ago when the risk taken by the publisher to give the writer a decent advance backfired on them.  The sales for the book were minimal, and in a year, sales had tanked so badly that the publisher was not recouping its losses on marketing or production, let alone the advance they’d paid.  The publisher and author ended up in court over this, with the author saying that verysame thing, “Publishers don’t make authors pay back advances.”  Sure they do.  It’s in the contract.  If it’s a serious enough overage, you bet your sweet backside they will make the author honour the contract, just as the author would expect the publisher to honour it.

I cannot stress this enough:  If you are not wearing the rubber boots of reality, the electrifying world of the industry will fry you.

If your sole purpose in writing is to receive a large advance, I suggest you find another route.  The desire to write is overshadowed by the desire to be in the business of writing.  Become a copywriter, work for a newspaper/magazine/website as a journalist or get a position in public relations.  You’ll get paid by the hour, pay taxes as an employee, be eligible for workman’s comp and the company’s group insurance, and it’s an avenue for your desire to be in the business of making money as a writer.

If, on the other hand, you have to write because you’ll die if you don’t, then rethink the concept of the advance in your life.  Think, instead, about the story you’re telling.  Think about making that story available to others.  Think about how to accomplish that, rather than the money it will make. 

Do what you love, and the money will follow. 

Really, it will.

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