July 12, 2007

Book Jabber

(This is a LOOOONG post specifically about book stuff, I'll warn you in advance.)

I got featured on Metafilter yesterday, which was both cool and a bit startling when I checked my stats. I panicked a little since I was right in the middle of updating the book site with some significant changes. God knows what people were seeing when they went there, but a LOT of them went there.

Two interesting points were made in the comments. One of them came from a long-time reader, or perhaps I should say a long-AGO reader, who enjoyed my writing before Schuyler was born but found me to have since become a one-trick pony, albeit one who is good at my one trick.

The thing is, he's right, and not just in the sense of my writing. When I think back to the life I had before Schuyler and the one I've had since she was born, and particularly since she was diagnosed, I can see how she has come to dominate my world. I'm not sure that's such a bad thing; I think I'd be kind of a crap father if it hadn't, especially given her condition. But more than that, taking care of Schuyler and fighting the good fight with her has given me a purpose, a mission even. Choosing to write a book about it made that even more true.

I know I've become less amusing and less "controversial" (which is a silly word to use since I was never really controversial so much as just sort of an ass) since those early days, but I think I found my stride as a writer, and my Muse. (Hint: she's four feet tall and speaks Martian.) So it's a valid criticism, but I'm not sure how many people really miss the guy that I was before all that much. Looking back now, I really believe that I was just waiting for Schuyler.

The other point that came up in the Mefi thread was one about which I suspect many people are curious, particularly writers who are interested in moving from online writing to the kind that kills trees. (Stupid trees. That's what they get for growing roots instead of legs.) It involves my removal of my old journal archives, and whether or not I was somehow bullied into doing so by my big mean publisher.

(One note of clarification: I removed the archives covering the same period of time as the book specifically for book-related reason. The materials from before that, in a stroke of poor timing coincidence, disappeared when the server where they had been stored all these years finally shuffled off this mortal coil. One of these days, perhaps I'll put them back up somewhere else, but I'm not actually in a big hurry to do so any time soon. Honestly, I was sort of a dick back then.)

One person remarked that the book deal came about as a direct result of my blog. (I'm not actually sure if that's 100% true, although it certainly became an important part of the marketing plan for the book soon after I signed with St. Martin's.) "That publishers decide to use their economic leverage to force authors to remove their stuff from circulation so the publisher can monetize it upsets me," they said.

So here's my perspective on that. From what I have learned this year, my contract with St. Martin's Press is actually neither unusual nor particularly draconian. If anything, it gives me more involvement in the process than I expected. I've had a crazy cool amount of input in the design, and so far the editorial process has consisted of fixing and tightening up my writing, not so much cutting. The book that will be published is probably going to look very much like the one I envisioned, except with much better grammar and fewer F-bombs. (I'm down to three, believe it or not, although one of them is a "motherfucker", which I think should make for bonus points both in Scrabble and in street cred, yo.) I didn't get a huge advance, but as a first time author I didn't expect one, and all that really means is that the book will have less to earn out before I begin to see royalties down the road. (WAY down the road, if what I've heard about publishing in general is true. Well, what are ya gonna do?)

In other words, my experience with St. Martin's Press has been almost entirely positive. I've heard horror stories about how authors are treated by the Giant New York Fancy Pants Publishing Houses, but so far, those stories haven't been my own. They've said yes to just about everything I've asked for, and my editor still treats me like I'm doing them a favor by letting them publish my book.

The part of the contract that applies to my blog ("Competing Works") is actually pretty generous, now that I go back and read it again. The contract actually gives me a good amount of wiggle room in regards to retaining material on the blog that was online previous to its incorporation into the book, only disallowing direct duplication of text beyond a contractually specified number of words. Even my archives would seem to be mostly safe, since a very small amount of the book's text is drawn directly from the blog.

With a memoir that covers the same material that a blog has covered for seven years, however, "new" is obviously not 100% clear. Anyone who has read my blog is going to be familiar with a lot of this material even though it's being freshly told.

The point becomes murky, especialy since every so often as I reviewed the blog and journal to refresh my memory, I'd come across a turn of phrase that I liked and decided to use again. How much would I be required to change a similar passage in order for it not to be considered the same material? It would have to be determined on a case by case basis, surgically removing the bits and pieces that felt too close to call.

I should mention that aside from the competing works clause contained in my contract, at no time has anyone at St. Martin's even mentioned removing my archives. (I guess they assumed that I was capable of reading my own contract, which was mostly true.) Technically speaking, I suppose I don't actually have to pull anything at all down until the book comes out in seven months. St. Martin's has been very cool about the blog and the book site; I'm sure they understand the importance of an online component in building interest in a book.

In the end, I decided to remove the archives in their entirety. For one thing, if I only used materials that I thought were especially worthwhile, then removing them would mean cutting out the best of my writing and leaving the rest. I didn't much care for what I was likely to have remaining. ("I took the best cuts of beef off this cow, but you can have the rest if you want.")

I also felt that I had entered into a business agreement with St. Martin's Press, with the common goal of bringing Schuyler's story to the printed page. Their part of that agreement involves a huge financial investment that they have no guarantee of getting back. What should my part be, beyond the writing itself? What's my commitment to this project and its worth?

I guess the main reason for taking down my archives, however, has more to do with writing itself. Telling the story of those years was important to me, both at the time and now. I just spent the past year or so telling that story with greater clarity and with the measure of understanding that has come from looking back on it. I was lucky that I was writing about it online all that time; I was taking detailed notes for a book that I didn't even realize I was going to write. Now that the book is done, I'd like for it to stand on its own.

As for the future, I'm not going anywhere. I can't imagine that Schuyler's story is going to become boring any time soon. If it does, I'll just make some stuff up.

(Joking. As far as you know.)

20 comments:

Anonymous said...

You gotta do what you gotta do. As a long time pre-Schuyler reader, I'll truly miss being able to go back and grab an old skool laugh with stories about sales weasels (I still love your graphics for that) , birds, cats, dogs, hamsters, americana music, and your otherwise astute yet foul mouthed robservations. Maybe one day you can publish the rest of the story based on those writings (and we can finally find out what happened that fateful summer at band camp. If it means anything, thanks a whole bunch for sharing. Your ups and downs were (and are) real, and comforted me as I attempt to navigate big-bad-world.

Just one request - do you ever think you could convince the Bendo Reperatory players to come out of retirement???

emjaybee said...

Ha, I saw you featured over there. I wanted to say "Hey, I met him at the mall play area!" but that was kind of pitiful, like the story your aunt tells about seeing that guy who played the dad on Alf* at Six Flags that one time.

Anyway, you probably were a bit more of a dick when you were younger...we all were. But that makes your archives more interesting.

I wanted to point people on the Mefi thread to the story about how you got "dooced" (pre-Dooce) at that music camp, for your old blog? I can't remember details. Do you have the whole story online anywhere?

*not that you aren't more interesting to meet than the dad from Alf.

kris said...

Well said, Rob. I came upon your site late in the game (pamie linked it back when you were raising funds for that totally-worthwhile-investment-known-as-the-BBOW). I tried to catch up on the archives, reading about you, Julie and Schuyler; having myself a good cry. I'm looking forward to having those stories (retold) in my hot little hands come February 19.

And, true to form, you still make me cry from time to time. Tonight, it was this:
" Looking back now, I really believe that I was just waiting for Schuyler."

Truer words have never been spoken. I know you have your issues with some sort of higher power/God/etc., but it is clearly no accident or coincidence or genetic convergence that Schuyler came to you and Julie. This was the story you were meant to live, and the one you were meant to tell.

Unknown said...

my gut feeling is that the stuff online has specific value that doesn't interfere with the sellability of the book, to the contrary: it creates resonances (for example: the comments people had - those were an amazing ingredient in the mix) that would actually ultimately add value to the book if they were still available as reference.

nobel-winning author elfriede jelinek is publishing her new work in installments on the net, free for all to read - clearly her publisher has no bones with this with respect to the sales of the book once it's published in its arboricidal form. (coincidentally, wired's chris anderson is just talking about free economy in relation to books.) i can't think publishers aren't giving this a hard think (in a similar way that the music execs see themselves forced to) - so it might be worth looking into restoring the source material as a kind of enriching back-end in some form or another. as some comments here already show, it was a place to come back to.

Anonymous said...

You know, for all the jibba-jabba about parents maintaining their own identities despite becoming parents, and not living vicariously through their children blah blah blah...

I believe it's okay for a child to give focus and purpose to a parent's life.

And I believe it's essential to know that there is a difference.

Anonymous said...

Not to get on the same soapbox here that I was over there (well, uh, yes I am): a Nobel-winning author is going to have a lot more leeway than an unpublished first-time author. When Rob is on the fifth book, I'm sure he can do whatever he likes.

I don't mean to sound so pain-in-the-ass about it, I just haven't liked the implications that if Rob had just had more cajones and just stood up to the publisher, everyone could have everything they wanted. Including a pony.

Linda Ball said...

While it's nice to have all those archives, the journal/blog/blather-a-day (or -week) that many of us do is not a book. I look for the book to take a story I know and give it a coherency while giving me a big dose of Robness.

I use my own jottings to resurrect my own life. I've thought of trying to make a book out of some of it. But you need a focus for a book. Schulyler is one focus for Rob, the most important, of course. But he has others. There may be other books there.

And, on the WEB, it's hard to kill stuff. See here.

Cynthia said...

Since I joined the Rob band wagon rather late I didn't get to read the archive stuff. That will make the book all new material for me.

Looking forward to seeing the fancy-pants book next year.

Jim Howard said...

I confess to sometimes missing the old Rob, the one who (in my mind) will always be stuck in the snowbank as he flees Michigan with a bad tooth, or waging cyber war with crazy music campers and various militia groups.

For most of us there comes a time when we must put away childish things. Duty demanded you grow up at least a little, and you did.

Your writing is still very much worth reading.

Anonymous said...

Well said, Rob. While I discovered your blog after you'd been writing for several years, I did read enough of the previous posts to know I enjoy your work. I do wish I could read what I missed but, hey, you don't always get what you want, do you? I don't think you owe anyone an explanation but it is nice to know how you made the decision.

I'm preordering the book and I've told my friends they should grab it as soon as they can.

Michael Berry said...

I'm sure you know this, but for the sake of visitors who don't have firsthand experience with publishing, I want to offer one clarification. You wrote regarding your advance: "all that really means is that I'll have less to pay back before I begin to see royalties down the road."

Reputable publishers never make their writers pay back their advance. Books have to "earn out" the advance before royalties are paid, but that's different.

Robert Hudson said...

I'm sure you know this, but for the sake of visitors who don't have firsthand experience with publishing, I want to offer one clarification. You wrote regarding your advance: "all that really means is that I'll have less to pay back before I begin to see royalties down the road."

Reputable publishers never make their writers pay back their advance. Books have to "earn out" the advance before royalties are paid, but that's different.


That's exactly right, I didn't state that very clearly. Thanks for pointing that out, I should go edit that sentence. Because I can!

celestial opus said...

Absolutely perfect. I'm amazed actually that anyone would have to ask why to begin with.

Amy Lynn said...

I'd second the return of the Bendos!!!

mollyjade said...

Even though this whole Internet thing has been around a few years, I think publishers are still feeling their way on this. This contract is the publisher's best guess of what to do in a situation they probably haven't dealt with much before.

Anonymous said...

I've been reading since I was in high school, back when the wedding website existed. That's a long time, lemme tell you.

And you will never be anything close to boring. I'll read until you take it down.

Anonymous said...

I still miss the Hamsterical Magic and your brilliantly edited shorts (maybe YouTube?), but Schuyler's adventures are an okay trade off. ;)

Melissa said...

It's your writing and ultimately it is yours to do with what you want.

jennifergg said...

I think I understand some of the same feelings about writing about my own son; or maybe I am more conflicted about it than you are. I was writing about parenthood even before he was born; but now, it seems even more important that I give voice to the story, because not many people are writing about parenting a child with differences, physical or learning or whatever. So it's probably the same for you too--you have found a subject that you care about deeply, but also, one that the world is interested in hearing about. Maybe, even NEEDS to hear about. So thank you.

Susan said...

Obviously it's all your writing to do with what you will. But as someone who missed out on the old days of Robliness, I would like to go back and meet the old you. I showed up just before the old stuff came down, and started to read the archives a bit, and then they disappeared, and I was sad. :(

I love your blog now, and you can bet I'll be buying the book the day it comes out.

But oh, how I would love to read The Book of Rob!