Writer’s Mailbag (part 2)

First of all, happy Leap Day! Did you know that there’s just a .068 percent chance of being born on Leap Day, compared to a .27 percent chance of being born any other day of the year? Around 200,000 leaplings live in the U.S., with up to four million worldwide. Bust out those facts at the office today and people will think you’re awesome. (No, I haven’t been carrying around that knowledge for the last four years, patiently waiting for this day to arrive. I got the Leap-Year facts here.)

Anyway, yesterday I got distracted in the process of answering this question: I’ve got a great idea for a book. How do I go about getting it published?

To keep tangents to a minimum, I’ll offer my overly simplified step-by-step:

1. Write an outline for the book if it’s fiction, or a proposal for the book if it’s nonfiction. There are plenty of webby places to look up suggested formats or templates for how to do this. Here’s one. Here’s another.

2. Write two or three sample chapters of the book.

3. Rewrite the sample chapters, just to make sure they’re as entertaining as possible, exemplary of your writing style and the direction of the book, and enticing enough to make the reader want more.

4. Find an agent or editor. Through personal contacts and networking, it is occasionally possible for unrepresented writers to get a manuscript into an editor’s hands, but most big publishers today use agents as the first round of gatekeeping. Editors get unsolicited manuscripts all the time. But they know manuscripts coming from agents have at least been vetted by that agent. The best way to get an agent is to (again) use personal contacts — if you have a personal relationship with a published writer, you might ask him or her for an introduction. (You won’t always get it, as writers can be protective of their agents and don’t want to waste their agent’s time by recommending a lame-o writer.) Or you can attend writer’s conferences where agents sometimes meet with prospective authors. Or you can blindly send out query letters or emails.

4.a. It can be pretty hard to get an agent. Especially a good one.

5. Let your agent do the equally difficult work of selling your book.

6. Pray. If there was ever a time to buy into the Prosperity Gospel, this is it.

7. Start writing.

It’s probably obvious that the most important step — other than coming up with a great idea — is getting a good agent. The best way to do this? Networking, networking, networking. Introduce yourself to writers. Introduce yourself to agents. Make connections. Be bold. This is a time when you need someone to give you a shot, so don’t be afraid to ask for a favor.

Can you get a book published without an agent? Yes. If you already know some editors. My first few books were published without an agent, but I knew the editors already through prior relationships or mutual friends (and the publishers were smaller). The books I’m working on now? Agented all the way.

P.S. I haven’t mentioned traditional self-publishing via a commercial printer, because that’s really expensive and often seen as proof that a book isn’t good enough to get published “for real.” Nor have I mentioned digital publishing-on-demand (like LuLu or iUniverse), because it’s still new and I’m personally not too familiar with it. To work toward a career as a writer of books, the best path (for now, at least) is still the traditional one. But the industry is always changing, so who knows?

February 29, 2008 | Jason Boyett | 1 Comment »

Writer’s Mailbag

This is the question most often asked of published writers by potential writers: I’ve got a great idea for a book. How do I go about getting it published? (HT: Robert Fortner‘s comment on this post)

I wish I had a good — or at least encouraging — answer. These days it’s hard to get a book in the hands of an editor. Once there, it’s hard to get the book published. Once published, it’s hard to get the book to sell.

(Now you will play me a sad song on your tiny violin.)

Anyway, the publishing world is notoriously hard to break into. Let’s start with some background information. This is how a book gets published: Let’s say a person comes up with a great idea for a book. He or she mulls it over for the next ten years, then finally sits down to write a couple of chapters. The prospective author shows the chapters to some writerly friends, who say, “wow, a rambling book about Christian spirituality using the unresolvable nature of jazz as a metaphor? That’s pretty good!” and so the author writes up a 4-5 page proposal (if it’s nonfiction) or plot outline (if it’s fiction).

Then, through the power of interpersonal networking (or blind emailing after having scoured the Internet for contact info), those sample chapters and the proposal/outline are sent to an agent. The agent likes it, so he or she agrees to represent the potential author. The agent then packages up the book idea, has a few exploratory conversations with editors with whom he or she enjoys good relationships, and tries to sell them on the idea. Several editors may be contacted at once. Eventually, an editor becomes attracted to the book idea and thinks it might 1) be publishable; 2) be sellable; and 3) fit into the style, subject matter, and vision of the publisher, the editor’s employer. Then the editor must sell the idea to an editorial team at the publisher, who talk it over for a long time before finally deciding whether or not to make an offer to the writer. Once this offer is made, the agent and editor and author negotiate the contract and before long, the author’s book idea has been purchased by a publisher.

At which point the fun begins, because now you actually have to start writing the thing, while staring at a deadline and wondering how in the world you’re gonna think of enough stuff to fulfill the 60,000-word manuscript you’re contractually obligated to deliver.

(More violin music here, please.)

So there are several gatekeepers to the process, all of whom must be sold on the merits of the book. The author must convince the agent, the agent must convince the editor, the editor must convince his or her editorial board…and even further, as the publisher must then convince the buyers at Barnes & Noble and Borders and Wal-Mart, etc., to stock a whole bunch of copies of the book…and then the chain stores hope the book’s marketing and packaging are able to convince the book-buying public to purchase the store’s inventory.

Of course, I still haven’t really answered the question: How do I get it published?

I guess I’ll get to that tomorrow.

February 27, 2008 | Jason Boyett | 1 Comment »

PFB Sports Survey


You can only hold onto your personal dignity for so long, and for me, that time has probably come to an end with my answers to the Prayers for Blowouts Sports Survey. Once you read today’s post at this excellent sports/faith blog, it will become clear that: 1) I am a huge dork; and 2) No, really, HUGE.

For proof, I reference the 7th-grade hurdles story, or my admission about when I was once in three fantasy baseball leagues at the same time, or the part where I boast about my rec-league volleyball chops. Goodbye, cruel world.

Thanks to PFB founder Bryan Allain for featuring me in the survey. Go Cubs.

February 26, 2008 | Jason Boyett | 2 Comments »

Gratitude and Deadly Vipers

Over the last few months, I’ve had the opportunity to do some freelance work for Mike Foster and his innovative culture-challenging, good-doing, non-profit organization, Ethur. One of Ethur’s projects is the Junky Car Club, which is just plain awesome (and not only because I’m a contributor to its blog).

But the Ethur project I want to mention here is Deadly Viper Character Assassins, which is an excellent book and DVD series by Mike Foster and Jud Wilhite (who, incidentally, used to live in my hometown of Amarillo, Texas). Deadly Viper is an intentionally campy, fun exploration — with a serious message — of the brutal “assassins” that can kill a person’s leadership and integrity.

When I read books, I always try to take at least one message or thought from it that I can apply to my life or career or thinking or whatever, and my takeaway message from Deadly Viper comes from p. 155 of the book, near the end. And it’s a killer. I can’t stop thinking about it. In fact, I’ve already spoken about it by way of a talk I gave at my church a couple months ago.

Here it is, from the chapter called “The High and Mighty Assassin”:

One way to cultivate a respect for others is to make a list of all the people who helped you get where you are. It could be someone who hired you and gave you a shot. It could include your teachers, your friends, or the client who bought your product or believed in your ability. Write these names down…so that you can look at them and remember the importance of other people. Then look around you for someone else to believe in. Make an effort to land on someone else’s list of important life influencers. Give someone a shot.

When I speak to college classes or aspiring writers, I always tell them it takes three things to get published. The first thing is talent, because you sort of have to be able to put words together to be a writer. The second is hard work, because it’s not enough to want to write or to simply be able to write, you have to actually write. The third is networking — because getting published is often as much about who you know as it is about how great of a writer you are. To that end, there are a handful of people in the publishing business who have been big life influencers for me. Editors who gave me a shot. Writers who introduced me to the right people. I owe the majority of my writing career to these friends and colleagues who helped me get my foot in the door.

The questions I keep asking myself are these:

1. Have I told these benefactors “thank you” for the influence they’ve had on my career?

2. Have I helped anyone else in that way? Am I on anyone’s list of major life influencers?

Number one can be accomplished easily enough, and that’s something I definitely need to do right away. Number two may take some work. But I need to move in that direction, and be willing to make whatever efforts I can to land on someone’s list. Not to get any recognition or praise from it, but to give someone else the boost they needed to succeed.

I’ll open it up to you lurkers. Who took a chance on you? To whom do you owe your success? Who helped you get where you are today?

February 25, 2008 | Jason Boyett | 2 Comments »

Basilica Church

A quick thanks to Cameron Reeves and the gracious team at Basilica Church in Canyon, Texas, for inviting me in to speak last night. Basilica is a young church plant with a distinctively progressive, ecumenical outlook, and it’s good to see young families and couples and college students creating community among themselves while also getting involved in the community around them. If you’re in the area, it’s a great place to worship on Sunday nights.

| Jason Boyett | No Comments »

Pygmy Love Queens and Odd Book Titles

You might have noticed that my books tend to have longish, quirky titles and subtitles. So far in my writing career, I’ve had the luxury of being able to mostly have my way when it comes to book titles, and that’s resulted in books like A Guy’s Guide to Life: How to Become a Man in 208 Pages or Less (my favorite title so far.)

So, naturally, I’m a big supporter of The Bookseller Magazine’s annual Diagram Prize for the Oddest Book Title of the Year (The Bookseller is the UK’s industry mag). Nominations are in and the list has been narrowed to six finalists – and the public gets to vote on the winner.

Here’s the shortlist of nominated titles:

– I Was Tortured by the Pygmy Love Queen, by Jasper McCutcheon

– How to Write a How to Write Book, by Brian Paddock

– Are Women Human? And Other International Dialogues, by Catharine A. MacKinnon

– Cheese Problems Solved, by P.L.H. McSweeney

– If You Want Closure in Your Relationship, Start With Your Legs, by Big Boom

– People who Mattered in Southend and Beyond: From King Canute to Doctor Feelgood, by Dee Gordon

While there’s perhaps no more evocative phrase than “pygmy love queen” – and Jasper McCutcheon is pretty much the coolest name ever — my vote is for Cheese Problems Solved. Because, first of all, I have never ever considered the existence of “cheese problems” of any sort, much less thought that an entire book was necessary to solve these problems. Also, when removed from the context of mealtime or photography, cheese is almost always a funny word. Good luck, P.L.H. McSweeney.

Exercise your freedom. Make your voice heard. Vote today.

February 22, 2008 | Jason Boyett | No Comments »

Healing Waters International

I want to briefly use this (small, hardly noticeable) platform to call attention to one of my favorite social justice organizations. Healing Waters International is a Colorado-based nonprofit that provides clean water to the urban poor of Guatemala, Mexico, and the Dominican Republic by installing water purification systems in local churches. The churches then sell the safe, purified water — at a greatly reduced price — to the people in their neighborhoods. Instead of living with intestinal sickness caused by contaminated water, people who couldn’t otherwise afford clean water are now able to get it. Along the way, they get connected with their local church. The churches, in turn, are given a great way to reach out to and care for their communities. It’s a brilliant concept that meets physical, financial, and spiritual needs…all at once.

Anyway, Healing Waters recently celebrated a big milestone: five-and-a-half years after installing their first project, they’ve distributed their 50-millionth gallon of clean water. To celebrate, all employees and friends of HWI are donating an extra $50 to the organization. According to their calculations, every $50 the organization receives means one more person gains safe, affordable drinking water for the rest of his or her life.

If you’ve got $50 — or, really, any amount of money — burning a hole in your pocket, here’s a great opportunity to do something about it.

Click here to celebrate HWI’s 50 millionth gallon with your contribution.

For some background on the organization, you can read this 5-day travelogue from 2006 describing a trip I took with Healing Waters: Day One, Two, Three, Four, Five.

February 21, 2008 | Jason Boyett | No Comments »

More on Estus Pirkle

As promised, I’d like to revisit the previous post about Estus Pirkle’s mind-boggling evangelistic film from the 70s. If you’re anything like me, you go through a multi-stage emotional process when you watch something like “The Believer’s Heaven.” Let me sum up this mental journey:

Stage 1: Shock.
(Is this real? This came from The Onion, right?)

Stage 2: Confusion.
(Why does he talk that way? Why does he hate New York City? What’s with the white robes?)

Stage 3: Disbelief.
(They did NOT just show that Psycho grandma turn all young again, did they?)

Stage 4: Acceptance.
(This stage is often accompanied by large amounts of snark.)

Stage 5: Joy
(Little Evelyn Talbert!)

Stage 6: Weariness
(A little Evelyn Talbert goes a long way…)

Stage 7: A quick return to joy
(Evelyn Talbert + jazz hands)

Stage 8: Concern
(Huh. There are probably a lot of non-Christians watching this…)

Stage 9: Dismay
(…and right now they’re adding it to their Christians-are-so-freaking-weird arsenal.)

Stage 10: Revulsion
(No no no no no no no NO. That is so NOT how it’s supposed to be. That is NOT what we’re all like.)

Because once the urge to mock the whole thing wears off, what we’re left with is a really bad taste in our proverbial mouths. We’re faced with a very weird, passionate film featuring a very weird, passionate man. The people in the film are breathtakingly dull, even when (supposedly) in heaven. The entire thing is humorless. The introduction and use of Evelyn Talbert is sappy, patronizing, and makes me feel about as uncomfortable as the people in Pirkle’s audience look. Even worse, the film doesn’t know it’s so bad. However genuine and well-intentioned it may be, it commits the worst sin in our culture — ignorance of its own weirdness.

Watching it doesn’t make me want to go to Estus Pirkle’s Heaven, nor does it make me want to follow Estus Pirkle’s Jesus. Instead, it makes me want to run far, far away from Pirkle and his square old zombie flock. His views of Heaven and evangelism fashion and filmmaking and the virtues of singing little people are so foreign to me that if I look at the freakiness too long — like gawking at the two-headed calf at the state fair — I start to recoil in horror.

But — BUT — Pirkle is following the same Jesus I try to follow. Pirkle identifies himself as a Christian. So do I. Pirkle values personal salvation. I happen to be a fan of salvation, too. We have a lot more in common than I want to acknowledge.

So I need to remember this. I need to remember my revulsion at the weirdness of the video, because, to be real honest, that’s the way a lot of non-christians look at us. They see Christians as freak shows. As crazy people. As people who seriously think building a sermon around Little Evelyn Talbert is a good idea. They see our subculture and are bewildered by it. And can we blame them? I don’t think so. We’re so embedded in our subculture of church events and praise-a-thons and elaborate Christmas pageants and gazillion-dollar buildings and positive encouraging music and name-it-claim-it prosperity preaching and single-party political identification that a lot of the time we can’t see how insane it looks from outside our walls.

Compare that stuff to the life of Jesus. This is what imitating Christ looks like? Is this the logical extension of his ministry on Earth? If the disciples showed up today and surveyed American Christianity, do you honestly think they’d smile, pat each other on the back, and say, “Yep. This is pretty much where we hoped Christianity was headed”?

Sometimes we need to look at the entire subculture like we look at “The Believer’s Heaven” — with a critical, outsider’s perspective. The non-believing world is to know we are Christians by our love. By the grace and peace that permeate our lives. Those things should stand out within our culture — they certainly will be different — but in a good way. They stand out because the poor are cared for and the hurting are healed and the outcasts are brought into the fold. Those things are attractive. They’re winsome. In a painful world, actions infused by faith and hope and love are different.

But here’s the deal: You can be different without being borderline crazy.

That’s the Estus Pirkle principle.

February 19, 2008 | Jason Boyett | 2 Comments »

Estus Pirkle and The Believer’s Heaven

In recent weeks, a really short, low-budget religious film has been making the you’ve-gotta-see-this rounds among cackling irreligious hipsters and flinching people of faith. Written and produced by old-time Mississippi Baptist minister Estus Pirkle, the film is called “The Believer’s Heaven.” It was made in 1977. And it’s…fascinating. Wonderful. Super-creepy. Pretty much any adjective you can think of applies to this unwitting masterpiece of well-intentioned evangelistic fervor and/or unintentional camp, depending on your point -of-view. (Hat tip: the gang at the Boar’s Head Tavern.)

If you haven’t seen it, I want you to watch it. Try to get through as much of it as possible, because there’s a real treat toward the end. Her name is Little Evelyn Talbert, and she will haunt your dreams.

(Unfortunately, embedding is disabled, so you’ll have to head over to YouTube to watch it: The Believer’s Heaven featuring Estus Pirkle. It’s a little over 3 minutes long. Be sure to come back after you’ve watched it for a helpful recap/viewer’s guide to aid your enjoyment.)

…waiting…

OK. Have you watched it? Still with us? By way of a viewer’s guide, I’ll now offer my immediate, frame-by-frame take. Let’s see if your thoughts matched mine:

0:21 — Wow. He says “New York City” a lot there at the beginning, and he says it kinda weird. If you could punch a city in the face with vocal inflection, that’s what it would sound like.

0:37 — “Does this excite you?” A little. It sort of excites me when he dips his head and shoulders really fast to the side in order to emphasize a point, but only because I think he’s about to fall over. Or break out into the Electric Slide.

0:46 — This guy’s diction is so familiar. The way he. So. Clearly. Enunciates. His. Words. Evenwhiletalkingfast. I know! It’s Mitch Hedberg! It’s Mitch Hedberg as a fast-talking southern preacher! (Want proof? Check out this video of the late Hedberg’s Comedy Central special.)

0:56 — Dramatization! Apparently, Heaven looks like dull people wearing white robes in the mid 1970s.

1:08 — Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Ooh, sorry. That extreme close-up startled me.

1:13 — Let me just say…I think it’s in bad taste to show that old horn-rimmed glasses guy when you reveal “there’s no aging in heaven.” Especially a guy who doesn’t look too thrilled to be headed there in the first place.

1:17 — When the harp zinged, and it quick-cut to the old granny with the glasses, you got a scary Ms. Bates in “Psycho” vibe, didn’t you? Shiver.

1:21 — Oh my. Ms. Bates didn’t get much better. Pastor Pirkle is gonna have to come up with some better before-and-after pics of those glorified bodies.

1:37 — Was that God with the long white beard? Because he looked a little frail. I thought he’d be bigger.

1:45 — Sad news, friends. It appears that only white folks get to go to Heaven.

1:51 — There’s no one of color in the Sweet By-and-By, but there are palm trees. Lots of them. Actually, the backdrop of Heaven looks a lot like a luau I went to a couple years ago in Maui. But without the pit-roasted pig. Because there’s no death in Heaven. No mai-tais either.

1:57 — There are, however, lots of extra Burger King crowns. Who are these guys? Disciples? Saints? Archangels? Baptist deacons?

2:03 — OK, this scene cracks me up, because suddenly everyone’s milling around with their hands flapping about as if their limbs have suddenly become independent from their bodies. Supposedly they are filled with joy and praising God. Or, perhaps, there are mosquitoes in Heaven.

2:11 — Little Evelyn Talbert. 54 years old. 32 inches tall. One fireball of a screen presence.

2:34 — Little Evelyn Talbert breaks into song. My heart leaps with joy.

2:40 — Come on, organ-player guy! Smile! It’s Little Evelyn Talbert, for crying out loud! And one of these days she’s gonna walk with her Lord!

2:44 — Same goes for you dapper lads on the front row. Evelyn’s happy. Shouldn’t you be happy, too?

2:46 — Hmm. I don’t know…when Evelyn squeezes her eyes shut, I start to worry. What if her little exuberance causes her to fall out of her chair?

2:50 — That wide-eyed blonde kid, squashed between his parents, looks visibly frightened. Perhaps he, too, is worried about Evelyn. Dial it down a bit, Ms. Talbert. The jazz hands aren’t entirely necessary.

3:09 — Now it’s time to get serious. Pastor Pirkle is no longer talking to the zombies in his audience, but to me.

3:14 — Hmm. He’s concerned that I might get killed in an earthquake. Pirkle probably should have come up with a more likely sudden-death scenario. Earthquakes are so West Coast. My childhood pastor liked to use car accidents, or getting hit by a bus, as possible ways to meet your Maker without warning.

3:20 — This could be God’s last call to me. If so, God is quite the prankster, because I totally would never have expected this.

3:24 — Roll credits.

Tune in tomorrow for a more thoughtful discussion of the video. It’ll be more serious. Not as serious as those people in Pirkle’s audience, of course. But you can bet it’ll be free of references to jazz hands.

February 18, 2008 | Jason Boyett | 4 Comments »

I Am SO White

I was just introduced to a young but already popular blog, thanks to a tip from my brother. It’s called Stuff White People Like, and it’s either a brilliantly funny model of satire or it’s borderline racist (depending on how sensitive you are about being stereotyped for your Caucasian-ness — check out all the comments here). But personally? I think it’s pretty entertaining. And accurate.

As a white person, I can attest that the following are pretty good descriptors of me:

#64 Recycling

Recycling is a part of a larger theme of stuff white people like: saving the earth without having to do that much.

#61 Bicycles

And of course, it goes without saying that white people who ride bikes like to talk about how they are saving the earth. If you know a person who rides to work, you should take them aside and say “Hey, thanks. Sincerely, The Earth.” Then give a thumbs up. That white person will ride home on a cloud.

#49 Vintage

Beginning in their late teens, white people begin an obsession with finding cool vintage clothing at local thrift shops and Goodwills.

#44 Public Radio

White people have an uncanny ability to make the ordinary exciting and there is no better forum than public radio to best showcase this.

#38 Arrested Development

If you are ever a white person’s house, and you see an orange box in their DVD collection, you should say “oh, you have Arrested Development, I love that show!” To which you will be offered a glass of wine, and perhaps an invitation to 80s night.

#19 Traveling

The second type of white person travel is Third World….But like with Europe, white people like to believe they are the first white people to make this trip. As such, they should be recognized as special and important individuals. That’s right, by going to a country, riding around on a bus or train, staying at a hotel or hostel and eating – they are doing something important for the world.

#9 Making You Feel Bad About Not Going Outside

While it would be easy to get angry at white people for this, remember it is hard wired in their head that the greatest thing a person can do in their free time is to hike/walk/bike outdoors.

#1 Coffee

I promise you that the first person at your school to drink coffee was a white person. You could kind of tell they didn’t enjoy it, but they did it anyways until they liked it – like cigarettes.

Sigh. Guilty as charged.

| Jason Boyett | 2 Comments »
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