Monday, August 25, 2008

The wonderful quiet, troubled world of the unpublished writer

I never imagined I'd have anything to blog about. But there's things I care about that many others care about too (world peace, composting :-), biking to the grocery store then wondering how to bike back laden with groceries, losing five pounds, keeping sane while around an overactive three year old etc etc) and maybe those are reasons enough to sit here hammering away...

Then there's another reason. My book.
Its called...well, I was advised not to use the real title else I influence more powers that be. I am not maverick enough to tell them to go to hell yet so I have succumbed and removed the title...suffice to say that the title is catchy and everyone except my agent--I'll call him Jacques Chirac--hates it. Many ask me about it--what's happening with your book, what's the progress?? The progress, if indeed one can call it that, makes a snail seem like Lightening McQueen but that's just how this business is and I have decided to make this bed so I better sit on it. Anyway a blog suddenly seemed like a good way to vent err share the happenings on this front because I am deluded enough to believe that it's actually interesting to the people who ask. Or maybe they're like my brother-in-law who used to, since the turn of the century, (when I started toying with the idea of a book), ask me "How's the bu--ugh." And I thought, hey, I haven't really mentioned the book to anyone yet so I am flattered he knows. Turns out he means my VW bug. And now it's years later, my bug's old, my book's old also and all he can still ask me is "How's the bu--ugh," and I just say they're both fine thanks and we move on to easier topics such as Barack Obama and the oil crisis.

But I am not going to talk about oil or Obama here so if I am here to share, might as well start sharing.


The news is that a month ago, my agent Jacques sent me a list of 28 possible publishers whom he was going to approach. Now this is our second round of submissions. The first round went to thirteen or so top guns and they all uniformly said lovely writing but not for us. Too quiet, not enough drama, My protagonist is too good to be true (I agreed with this assessment) and too many characters to keep track of (fine I agreed with that too). So I re-plotted, re-wrote, re-edited, got rid of a bunch of characters, made him a bit of a player, added elements of drama to make the manuscript more exciting, all without resorting to gratuitous sex and violence and sudden landings of Russians in fighter jets on the shores of south India. Armed thus with a new and improved version, I handed it confidently to my agent last month. "Much more commercially viable," was his admiring (if deadpan) response. Hey at least he didn't cut me loose. Try finding an agent in this business. That needle in the haystack is a cake walk in comparison.

I walked on air for a week.


Ok, so new version, new submission. Of the 28 on his list, he has so far sent it to 15, also top guns. And the responses trickle in like a trail of blood. Its funny how the responses trickle back to me yet I feel like I am losing blood. Excuse that poor yet graphic analogy. But it's how I feel. So far four have gotten back to me. Again all glowing. Some even say they were engrossed in the book, finished it over the weekend, felt for Swami BUT...there's that dreaded word again...too quiet. Now will someone please explain this word to me?? Because I no longer know what it means. Short of making my protagonist a Bond like womanizing double agent living on a farm and working out of his mother's kitchen, I am out of ideas. But as my fourth rejection has rolled in ruining yet another summer weekend, I think, well, this editor has even said he wants to read more of my work and hey, how many times in my life will I have the honor to be rejected by a top editor at a top publishing house? Ruined weekend but we won't ruin the week. Hope this feeling lasts 'cause the next editor's email is right round the corner....

At 3:00 a.m--that dreaded hour--on so many nights, I sit up and go, "Damn (or stronger cuss word), I have two failed/stalled businesses behind me and now a book that just isn't sexy enough to print, so really, just STOP. Stop this nonsense of trying to trod the unbeaten path and find a career, any career before it is too late.


Stop the useless dreaming! For living the dream--which people at cocktail parties think I am doing--just isn't what it is cut out to be.

3 comments:

Amol said...

I love your blog! :-)

chech said...

Dear Ranjini,

You have always been like my creative twin. Yes, we are both smart, brave and strong, but you have that extra creativity that I will always lack. So, I know how briiliant your book is. I say, let's sell your book together to the people who matter....let's get it to the consumers!!

I will be happy to host book parties at my Manhattan apartment and anything else that needs to be done to spread the word!!!

Love
Shefu

Anneliese said...

Ranjini, I just found your blog, and I love it. I suppose you are too busy to write any more, but if you do, I will be happy!
Miss you!