Your carefully manicured manuscript makes its debut on a desk, somewhere inside a publishing company. If the reader likes your manuscript–it goes to the editor.
If the editor likes it, he/she may call you then, but more than likely, he/she has taken it to a few meetings already where people have talked about market potential etc.
You get THE CALL. “We like it! Let’s do this thing.”
If you have an agent, they take over. If you don’t have an agent and want the best deal–now is when you call one. Now is also the easiest time to get one. And don’t be all pessimistic like, “Of course, they want their 15% and I did all the leg work!” Any agent you really suspect of being that way shouldn’t be your agent. What a contract offer does is tell the agent that you are pre-screened. If you aren’t sure you want to marry an agent right now, just contract for them to negotiate THIS DEAL and play it by ear from there.
At some point, usually MONTHS later, a finished contract arrives. In triplicate. You initial all the pages and sign on the dotted line a few times. (Not as bad as buying a house, but more than renting a car.)
At some point, usually WEEKS later, you get revision requests from the editor with whom you furiously email back and forth until he/she declares the whole thing done. (There may also be some “Hey, I’m talking to this illustrator, check his site” emails during this time.)
You may not hear from them for a year. But during that time, a check arrives.
After the year of less/no contact, you may email your editor to see if he/she is still alive and nicely ask about the schedule. They will give you a season like, Fall 2009. This is the time to say nicely that you would love to do any other project they have in mind and, in passing, mention some of your ideas. (It’s funny how New Yorkers are famous for being so blunt in personal matters, but when it comes to business decisions, I’ve found them to be quite indirect. We Southerners are seriously blunt about business decisions, but famously indirect about personal matters.)
Somewhere around 10 months before the drop date, you get “proofs.” Big sheets of paper with the pictures and text. Usually it’s just a courtesy to send us one. The illustrator really needs it, but it’s nice to check the typos and all. Like we had several versions of one line in my poem and a previous version was in the proofs. Good time to catch that.
Thanks for detailing how this works! I’ll probably never be in your position, but I’m inordinately curious about how it all goes. Congratulations on your book.
Jen
on 04/13/2010 at 5:03 am
I wrote a children’s book years ago and stuck it in a drawer. Reading your blog has really inspired me to do something about it. My question is this…How do you prevent someone from stealing your idea? What’s to prevent them from rejecting you and just taking your idea and using it themselves? I guess this has always been my excuse for not trying to get my book published. I’d appreciate any advice you might have. Thanks! (Love, love, love your blog!!)
Ivory Soap
on 05/07/2010 at 6:39 am
Well….you can’t. If you’re worried about proving it after the fact, just mail it to yourself and don’t open it. The postmark will serve as evidence. But truthfully, that never happens. Maybe in a critique group, but I’ve never heard of it on professional levels.
Thanks for detailing how this works! I’ll probably never be in your position, but I’m inordinately curious about how it all goes. Congratulations on your book.
I wrote a children’s book years ago and stuck it in a drawer. Reading your blog has really inspired me to do something about it. My question is this…How do you prevent someone from stealing your idea? What’s to prevent them from rejecting you and just taking your idea and using it themselves? I guess this has always been my excuse for not trying to get my book published. I’d appreciate any advice you might have. Thanks! (Love, love, love your blog!!)
Well….you can’t. If you’re worried about proving it after the fact, just mail it to yourself and don’t open it. The postmark will serve as evidence. But truthfully, that never happens. Maybe in a critique group, but I’ve never heard of it on professional levels.