Seduction by Query

There’s no wondering why our newest columnist, Elizabeth Creith, won our editorial hearts immediately. Actually, except for Carl Rollyson who I invited to join the BiblioBuffet team, all of our columnists have seduced us with excellent query letters. Each was different, reflecting its owner’s personality. But without exception they were all enticing pieces of writing, showcasing not just the writers’ backgrounds and ideas but their personalities. They knew that we weren’t looking for “content.” They showed us they had things to say that would appeal to our readers.

Elizabeth’s was no different. It was obvious from the beginning that she had read our Write for Us page and followed the guidelines. You’d think this would be common sense for querying writers, but conversations with fellow editors and several years of experience have taught me that common sense is  . . . uncommon. Let me show you. Here’s Elizabeth’s letter:

I’d like to write a regular column for you. I see it as commentary in a light and drily humourous style, covering everything from the physical development of books (because it’s hard to take a stone tablet to read on the bus) to modern reading habits and the advent of electronic books (reading an e-book in the bathtub give a whole new meaning to “Kindle”) and everything in between. I’m a bookmaker as well as a writer and reader, and I have an author’s familiarity with the publishing industry.

Some ideas for columns:

• Basalt to bytes – a race through book formats in history
• How do you dog-ear a Kindle? – a technophobe muses on e-books
• Quarto, folio, elephant – the vocabulary of books
• Librocubicularists Anonymous – a twelve-step programme for those who read in bed
• The Breeding Habits of the Common Book
• The Dictionary Dance – descriptivist, prescriptivist, who cares? (I do!)

I have a track record as a columnist on radio. I worked for CBC as a freelance writer and broadcaster for about a decade, during which I had three regular features. One was slice-of-life humourous commentary, the second a folklore “column” and the third a humourous column about life as a shepherd in Northern Ontario. I also did a pet column for two online newspapers.

In addition I’ve been writing fiction and non-fiction for over twenty years, and have publishing credits both in print and online. I write horror and fantasy as well as humour.

I’ve never missed a writing deadline. You can find my references at my blog, Elizabeth Creith’s Scriptorium.

My reading interests are, in alphabetical order, animals, art, fantasy, history (military, social and scientific), humour, paper arts, physics, poetry, pottery, science fiction, textiles, writing and editing. I’ve also been known to indulge in mainstream literary fiction.

Currently on my night stand – or, more accurately, the pile on the floor by my bed –

• Malcolm Gladwell’s “Blink”
• Terry Pratchett’s “Nation”
• William Tapply’s book on writing mystery
• Richard Lederer’s “A Man of My Words”
• The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes
• Paul Jackson’s book on how to make pop-ups
• Creative Bookbinding
• How to Shoe Your Horse
• I just finished reading “Lavinia” by Ursula K. LeGuin

I don’t have a clip on reading or books, so I’ve written a sample column.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Elizabeth Creith

May I just say that this is a jewel of a query. I sat up. I paid attention. Then I promptly forwarded it on to Nicki for her opinion. And we had a new columnist.

Writing humor is hard. I know. I’ve tried it, and my results were so poor I not only have never attempted to publish any of it, I’ve never even tried to write it again. I’ll leave it to those who can do it well. Thankfully, for our readers, we have one of them. And the fact that she specializes in biblio-humor is fantastic. Where else but at BiblioBuffet will you find someone who knows how to shoe a horse and dance with dictionaries?

It’s Not Just Us . . .

I routinely read several agents’ and editors’ blogs so I know that the editorial team at BiblioBuffet is not the only one who receives queries that leaves us scratching our heads. What I cannot figure out is why. Why do writers not do their homework about the publication if having their work published there is so important to them?

What homework? Well, please get comfy. This will take more than a couple of paragraphs. First, we publish writing about books and reading and related issues. Related issues can be subjects as diverse as bookshelves, book buying, weeding out unwanted books, the unexpected impact of a certain book, censorship, libraries, bookmarks, bookplates or bookish ephemera, a book festival or bookstore. It is in fact anything that might be of interest to readers—and that covers a wide range. What we do not publish is anything else. 

In addition, we expect a certain level of quality. High quality. The fact that we can pay very little does not mean we accept beginners’ writing attempts. We do not. Do you know that the best way to find out what level of writing we publish is to read several of our issues? If you do that, you will learn why Carl Rollyson or Lev Raphael are much published authors, and why they are treasured essayists. You will learn how Nicki Leone explores her relationship with her books, and why she doesn’t review so much as she intwines herself into her reading. You will learn how Lindsay Champion and Pete Croatto, each of whom has a review specialty, talk about their books so that their readers know whether that book will work for them too. You can see how Gillian Polack handles the Australian publishing and books scene with wicked Aussie wit. You can read how Laine Farley, my co-writer for the On Marking Books column, researches and shares her information on bookmarks in a passionate way that brings her readers into her world. In other words, if you are a writer looking to join BiblioBuffet please read what we publish and then sit down and ask yourself, honestly and as objectively as you can, if your writing comes close to what you see in BiblioBuffet.

One of the most disturbing trends Nicki and I see in queries these days is the focus on “content.” Because that’s what much of what is seen online is considered ephemeral or fleeting as is the payment for it. BiblioBuffet is an online publication, yes, but we do not publish content. We seek to engage our readers with passion, with excitement, with excellent writing. We use as our role models magazines like Harper’s, The Atlantic, and The New Yorker. We rarely utilize links in most columns, the exceptions being my editor’s letter and to a lesser extent, On Marking Books. Columns should stand on their own; our feeling is that if one cannot say what one wants to say without relying on crutches links then one has nothing to say.

Another point I want to make is that BiblioBuffet’s reviewers like to search out books that are bypassed by larger publications. We don’t eliminate any books because if a reviewer is passionate enough to want to write about it she or he should be able to do so—and will in fact do so in new ways. But our goal is to help our readers find books that may otherwise go nearly unnoticed. And good books that sink unnoticed are a loss to all good readers. So please do not e-mail us about wanting to review *bestseller*. It’s a waste of our space and of our readers time.

Queries generally trickle in here and there as writers find us. But whenever BiblioBuffet’s guidelines get posted on a writers’ site we tend to get a deluge within a few days. Out of the last batch of around thirty-five queries we chose to keep working with two of the writers. That’s not unusual. Writing may be a matter of putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, but publishable writing for good publications demands much more. The writers we feature on BiblioBuffet demand a lot of themselves. They are talented, no question, but talent is only the beginning, They spent years, decades, honing their skills until they considered themselves “writers.”

For hopeful writers, the only advice I can give is to say that just because you can get your writing published online early in your writing process does not mean you should. If you enjoy writing “content” then follow that route. There’s nothing wrong with that goal. But if you want to write prose worth thoughtful reading then know that the best thing you can do for yourself is to skip the quick and easy detour. Stay on the Road of Hard Learning while you read those publications—not necessarily ones you agree with but those that issue fine writing—to which you aspire, and the columns and writers you admire. They are never so far above you that you can’t see them; they are merely in the place you are moving toward.

More Contributor Birthings

Last week I talked about an e-mail fluke that resulted in our newest contributor, Carl Rollyson. More commonly, though, we hear from writers who find our website through various means. Some are referred by current writers. Others appear to stumble across it. These are mostly single applicants. But when it is listed on a writers’ blog or website as a paying market we tend to get a slew of applicants all at once. That happened about three weeks ago.

It must have been posted in the evening because I received two interested queries that night. The next day brought about a dozen  more. And the day after that another dozen or so.

When we receive a number of applicants at once, the winnowing down is a multi-step process. In this case, I sent responses to almost everyone requesting more time though I did quickly review the submissions. The level of writing from five applicants was not even close to what we require; they received a form rejection immediately.

This still left me with more than twenty queries for one or at most two openings for regular columnists. About a week later, I read the remaining queries more carefully, separating the applicants into three folders: Yes, Maybe, and No. I then let myself think about my decisions for a couple of days. The rejected applicants in the No category received semi-personalized rejections.  Another seven eliminated.

The third step was breaking apart the maybe category into Yes and No folders. This is where the real difficulty began. “With sufficient editing . . .” I’d hear in my head as I read a piece, so  I had to repeatedly remind myself that I already had more than enough strong applicants, and that we didn’t want to take on applicants who would need a lot of editing. Out of necessity most of them received rejections. End result: one Yes folder, five semi-finalists.

So last night Nicki and I had a phone meeting to discuss the candidates. It was a long conversation but not because we disagreed. We rarely do. But we had reasons and expectations—not just of the candidates but of ourselves and of BiblioBuffet—to discuss.

Even though we pay relatively little, we offer our writers some things they have difficulty finding elsewhere. A “writer’s playground,” as Pete Croatto once phrased it, is one because the columnists have the right, indeed, the obligation, to write what they want, how they want, and when they want. As long as they say it well, we will run it. It’s a heady freedom for most of them, but for us, it’s simple common sense. Hire the best and then get out of their way. And at BiblioBuffet we do get out of their way.

Of course, that doesn’t mean a lack of editing. On the contrary, we are committed to excellent editing, which means that we, Nicki in particular, help the writers find their best writing while keeping our voices (and opinions) out of their work.

Our newest potential contributors haven’t experienced that yet. They are going to be providing individual pieces to BibliOpinions, our guest section for a while. This gives us a chance to see how they write, how much editing they need, and how they meet deadlines. It also gives them an opportunity to learn what it is to work with us and to see if they like it.

While I am always honored to hear from writers who wish to write for BiblioBuffet, it has its difficult moments. I hate sending rejections, especially to those who might make it with more experience. But because it is the readers who come to BiblioBuffet with high expectations—we do promise “writing worth reading, reading worth writing about”—we must adhere to our own standards much as we expect the writers to meet them.

When It Works!

Last week I talked about submissions that don’t meet our standard of “writing worth reading.” This week, I get to talk about those that do. This also has a continuum that is not quite as extensive but is more detailed.

How’s that?

Submissions that are in the running range from “definitely!” to “let’s see if we can get this to work.” The problem with those who fit closer to the bottom part of the range is that we may simply not have the time to work with the writer on improving the piece, however interesting we find it. I dislike rejecting those more than any other because the possibility is there. That “almost” sense feels as if it has a physical grasp on me. I have to pry it off to send it, regretfully, on its way. Sometimes those are rejections without a rewrite request; at other times, they are a revision that didn’t quite make it either. And I can’t take the time to go yet another round because I am not sure that a second revision will be publishable either.

Moving up the ladder are the ones that have potential but need some work. Sometimes I can tell it will work out. But not always. I will offer editorial suggestions and see how the writer does. In one case not long ago, I made those suggestions. The piece would have been publishable if the writer had been able to put himself into the piece and taken it from a bland report (built on an intriguing idea) to an intimate essay. Alas, he could not.

Compare that to a submission I received last week that started out the same way—a largely unoriginal take on subject that has been covered numerous times. There was, however, a spark, a tiny, unique thought that caught my attention. I wrote back pointing out that most of what he said had been said before but that this one idea was worth focusing on. I suggested he use that one point and build his essay aound it. Four days later the essay was returned. And I am pleased to say that we will be publishing it in our BibliOpinions section in the next issue.

What was important about these two essays and writers was that one could not understand what I needed and the other could. It’s not that one was bad and the other good. Rather, I believe there’s a certain level of experience that allows writers who have reached it to grasp editorial direction and incorporate it into their own voice. And that’s important. After all, it’s not the editors’ work that BiblioBuffet’s readers want to read. It’s the writers. Our job is simply to help them make the best of what they do. I’ve said several times here that “keep your fingers to yourself” is a good motto. Usually I am referring to online comments, but I often say it to myself when working with the writers. Make editorial suggestions, Lauren, but keep your voice and your fingers on your own column.

Works for me. I think it works for our writers too.

Writers’ Guidelines

All good writers are readers. So why, I sometimes ask myself, don’t those who send us queries read our writers’ guidelines. Many do, but a surprising number of applicants don’t. Or at least their submissions give no such indication. Real life examples of writers who waste their time and ours:

• Writers who assume we are a content site. BiblioBuffet does not publish “content,” defined by me as anything designed to attract website hits for advertisers. Content does fill up otherwise empty space, but provides very little in the way of good literary nutrition.
• Closely related to “content” producers are writers who propose articles on topics unrelated to what BiblioBuffet does publish: beauty, cars, finance, travel, etc. Their modus operandi is to create generic e-mails that they send out to websites without having any idea what the site is about. To their credit, they are generally polite when sent form rejections. 
• Writers who possess less than excellent English skills. Having these doesn’t assure good writing, but it is the starting point for every good writer. If a writer’s first language isn’t English but the writing is powerful and close to what we want we will definitely work with that writer on small grammatical errors. But when a writer tells me she has a Ph.D. in English yet her query letter is no better than a fourth-grade American student would put out, not only are we not going to respond but we are going to put her on our spam list. Along that same line: if a writer claims that Ph.D. and has a website that appears to back that up (excellent English, good writing) but his query is riddled with errors all we can deduce is that he is in the habit of attempting to scam editors into giving him a chance. It won’t work. The writer just made *the* list. And we will never have to worry about either writer clogging our in-boxes again.
• Writers who don’t understand that there is writing and then there is writing. “Writing worth reading” is writing that is worthy of a time commitment from readers. Today, there is so much competition for readers’ attention that the value of that attention has risen. Our writing must give readers such a good return on their “investment” that they choose to spend it with us every week.
• Writers who haven’t read BiblioBuffet but are just looking for outlets are not usually writers who impress us. By reading BiblioBuffet writers learn what types and level of writing we seek. And writers should be honest with themselves: do they want to write what we write about, and if so are they able to write to our standards?
• Writers who don’t read the our guidelines before they query. Anyone who has knows that we do not accept book reviews from guest contributors, that our word count requirement runs between 600 and 6,000 words, that our guest column area carries no deadline, and that we accept darn near any type of writing except poetry as long as it relates to books, reading, or related subjects.  

So there it is. Not quite in a nutshell, but well laid out, I think. Treat us right. Don’t try to overstate your credentials. If you don’t fit our requirements now, write more. Get into a critique group that isn’t hesitant to be brutally honest. Make yourself work harder to become better. Don’t think that publication should be easy just because the Internet allows it to be easy. Push! Trust me, the reward will be worth it regardless of where you dream of seeing your writing published. 

Writing and Waterfalls

It’s still amazing to me how grumpy many editors can be when just being nice to writers—and encouraging them to do what they do best—pays much higher dividends. An example is last week’s post (December 24) in which I shared Pete Croatto’s compliments to BiblioBuffet’s editorial team. The next day I received this in my e-mail box:

I’ve been reading your Behind the Words blog for a while. Your recent post about your editing style struck a chord with me. The chord reverberated so soundly that here I am, writing to you at an unholy hour.

I would very much like to write for BiblioBuffet. I am an Australian writer, historian, teacher, editor and reviewer. Sometimes these things are serious business. Sometimes they’re not. The interaction between the different parts of me always take my writing into odd corners and haunts. I get to meet interesting people and their books. I get to dissect old tales and new. It’s a lot of fun.

I would love to take the moments that most fascinate me and turn them into entertaining reading. There will be books in those moments, because there always are books in my life. I can write pretentious twaddle (have PhD, will twaddle) but I’d really rather not. I’d rather explore genre and Australian writing or the relationship between place and books or between books and food or explore the seamier side of Indigenous Australian copyright. That’s just this week. I don’t know what I’ll encounter next week or the week after, but I know it will be fascinating and that I would dearly love to share it.

When I finished laughing—“have PhD, will twaddle”—I e-mailed Nicki, then, faster than the proverbial speeding bullet, we told Gillian we wanted her.

It’s easy to see why editors can become grumpy. When queries come in that are inappropriate—for god’s sake, I sometimes want to shout, read the submission guidelines we took the time to write out and post for your convenience!—or even illiterate we try our best to maintain a respectful correspondence. But when we regularly see queries that read like (freshman) high school book reports, or beginner blog posts, or that make claims they cannot verify, the process becomes annoying.

Then along comes the next one and . . . suddenly there it is! The query that makes us sit up. Take notice. Smile broadly. And say “Yes!” Honestly, finding one of those is like coming upon a gorgeous waterfall in a fern-laden forest clearing. Picture it: you step into this gorgeous space, strip off your hot, sweaty cynicism, and dive into the cool, clear waters of excellent writing. When you surface you shake your head, letting the words and emotions spin off you as you revel in the sensual feeling of being surrounded by something wonderful. It’s such a joy that it has the ability to wipe away all the grubbiness you accumulated during your slogs through the slush pile.

I know rejections are hard for writers to receive. Even jaded editors know how painful they feel to the writer. To be honest they are hard to write. I hate turning people down when they put themselves out there on offer. But our obligation is to BiblioBuffet’s readers. And we simply cannot accept less than the best.

In the last month, we have had four worthwhile writers appear. In January we will begin the process of working with them. We don’t yet know if they will all work out but we are excited. What we do know, however, is that we would probably not have had the opportunity to find out about them were we still grumpy about the other ones.

Folks, there’s a reason we all have “pearly whites” beyond needing them to chew food. Use ‘em, and smile. The next great query is out there. It’s always out there. And we at BiblioBuffet have no intention of scaring it away.