Galleys Arrived

The galleys arrived today: four copies of the book on proof-quality paper trimmed and stapled at the spine. Each looks like a magazine. I’m going to be sending one to an expert in the hopes he finds it worth commenting on. I will take the others with me on my round of visits to local bookstores. I’ll encourage them to carry the book and offer to do signings. My editor is going to set me up to talk with a head honcho at Boyds Mills before I embark on these visits. I’m eager for the advice. In the same batch of mail, I got back a (rejected) proposal I had sent to a different editor at Boyds Mills. I know that everyone in the know (and all the books) will tell you that getting the first book published doesn’t mean anyone — including editors at the house that published your first one — will take anything else you write. There’s just this little thing that happens when you get the call that someone wants your manuscript (“I did it; I can write!”); and then there’s the little thing that happens when you have successfully navigated the revision process (“I learned so much; Everything I write after this will be MUCH better.) Of course, both of these sentiments have bits of truth in them. The hard truth, however, is that every manuscript that finds its way into print must be extra-special and it must fit (i.e. match a publisher’s idea of what will sell in the marketplace.) There are lots of well written manuscripts floating around out there that don’t have that special something. The truth is that some of them are mine.