Who You Know?
November 6, 2001
7:27 a.m.
Trey recently wrote an interesting take on the "issue" of the connection of Who You Know to success in the business of writing. Overall, I think he's got a healthy perspective on the whole thing. I admit that this discussion bothers me, though. It's like one of those hangnails that just never seems to go away no matter how long you play with it. Somewhere in his commentary, Trey writes of someone who "sees red" when he realizes that his work isn't judged solely on its merits. My initial response to this person is "What makes you think that?" I mean, seriously? Why is it that you think a writer will sell something to an editor just because he or she knows the editor? I don't buy that. Yes, there are associations in this business, and yes, there are those who fall into associating with each other, and rooting for each other, and, indeed, buying material from each other. I'm sure there have been many instances where editors have bought work from someone he or she knew from a convention or whatever rather than buying something of relatively equal quality (whatever the heck that is) written by a person they didn't know anything about. But I need to challenge the word "merit" here. Think about this a little. Most of the major editors I've met and listened to are looking at a bigger picture than a single story. Editors are like any other business people ... they need a steady supply of material. And they need material that will attract people to buy their own product, in this case, a magazine. In other words, they need names they can eventually put on the cover--names that will eventually entice another person to part with four or five bucks to read the contents of that issue. Editors who buy substandard material from "friends" will not last long. It's as simple as that. Becoming known is the great New Writer Catch-22, of course. And we all struggle with it. All you have to do is scour my archives to see my own struggles with it. How do you get known if you don't get bought and how do you get bought if you don't get known? But I think it helps if we try to align our language. The bottom line is that we use the word merit a little differently than most major editors. To us, "merit" relates to the story we've just submitted. We telepathically send out our vibes to editors that say "Pick using merit." We really don't mean that, of course. What we really mean is "Pick using merit, so long as you think my story is the best in your 1,000 manuscript slush pile this month. Otherwise, just take mine anyway." The critical point we're missing from an editor's point of view is that the words on the page of any single story are only a piece of the equation that defines "merit." There is also desire, and persistence, and ability to deal with shifting tides of events, and the ability to handle different types of interpersonal situations, and ... well, the ability to do all those things you need to be able to do to create what I'll call longevity. Longevity is a part of the picture, you see? The ability to write for five or ten or fifteen years and continue to turn out consistently good stories is a part of "merit." In fact, it turns out that this is a pretty major part of "merit' because this is what brings people to read your stuff. Very few people will read your first few stories. You are, after all, a newbie. Or, if they do read it, it will be with the mindset of "Well, I've got fifteen minutes to spare and I'm sitting on the pot anyway ... might as well give this Collins guy a chance." I'm not talking about your family, here, you know? If they like it, they'll be pleased to see your name again. After a bit, you become like a secret prize in the Cracker Jack box. You know? People don't buy the issue just for your stuff, but they're pleasantly pleased when they open up the pages and recognize you're there. After a few stories, though, this should change -- assuming you're any good, that is. And if you're not any good, then this discussion doesn't matter anyway. Suddenly, though, people will begin to buy magazines you're in on sight. Reviews will begin to mention how interesting your stuff is, and people at conventions who you've never met will start telling you that they loved your latest piece in F&SF and do you have anything else coming up in the future? This is the "merit" editors are most looking for. This is that "longevity thing." I'm not saying the "merit" of a single story is not based on its quality. What I'm saying is that the merit of an author is based on the quality of his individual works, as well as his desire and persistence and talent and consistency and whatnot. The reason for this is that this is how an editor's customers expect him to behave. Newbie writers want readers to buy stories. But this is not really true. Readers buy writers. Readers buy reputations. Readers buy people they can trust. "Schmoozing," going to conventions and talking to professional people in professional ways, is merely one way of telling a collection of editors that you're serious enough about this to plop down several hundred dollars to spend time learning about the field. This is why it's valuable (assuming you can behave moderately professionally). But to be honest, it's probably not any more valuable in the early stages of developing a career than running 30 or 40 or 50 stories past these editor's eyes. I believe that schmoozing at conventions becomes a career booster only when editors see a writer create a stir among readers. When that happens, well, this is good, eh? Maybe then Gordon buys your work because of Who You Are. Then, again, maybe he's really buying it because you have merit in the eyes of the people who read his magazine. Don't get me wrong. If Gordon Van Gelder, for example, finds a brilliant piece by someone he doesn't know, I'm sure he'll buy it. I doubt that happens much, though. I figure most of the new writers he's bought from have been in his slush pile a few times before he bought the gem that finally enticed him so much. Regardless, I challenge new writers to open their scope a little in this area. Stop focusing directly on the editors in this situation, and to stop focusing on the words to a single story or even a few stories. Think bigger. Think broadly. I challenge you to do this because the definition of "merit" that matters in the end is the definition that comes from the readers, and the quicker you get this under your belt the healthier your outlook on the industry will be.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
|
BACK TO 
|