I’ve been recommending critique groups for about 10 years now, and in that time have had only two authors join. Everyone else either still wants me to edit, or goes away looking for another editor who will tell them their work is ready for editing.

So here are some good reasons to join a critique group:

1. It doesn’t cost you anything. Well, that’s not quite true: it will cost you time and energy, as you’re expected to critique others’ work as well as receiving critiques yourself. But see #5, below. And the money you save can be better used when your book is ready for editing—and/or should you decide to self-publish, when you’ll need to hire all sorts of people like cover designers, layout people, and so on.
2. You can do it in person. Many writers prefer the weekly meetings that keep them focused and give them deadlines. Check for local critique groups through your chapter of the National Writers Union (you do belong, right?), at your local library, or check out this partial list.



3. You can do it online. If you’re not near a group, or prefer to have an assortment of critiques from all over the world, then online groups are terrific. The one I recommend is the Internet Writing Workshop, where you can participate in interesting discussions about the writing life as well as join critique groups for nearly any genre you can imagine.
4. Critiquing others’ work improves your own. I can’t say this strongly enough. Reading others’ work with an eye to whether or not it “works” will give you that eye when you come back to your own work. Not to mention the karma points!
5. You know you’re not alone. Writing is one of the loneliest activities on the planet. You create alone. You write alone. You read alone. And that’s all well and good, but when you receive your 48th straight rejection, it’s good to have people with whom to share it. People who understand. (And they’ll be your biggest supporters when you finally get that acceptance, too!)

So there you have it: five great reasons to join a critique group. Why not do it today? And then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

We all know that there are pros and cons on all sides of the question. But I was extraordinarily impressed with the time one participant took to answer the question in depth—so impressed, in fact, that I asked her permission to repost her comments here. Take them to heart.

I think that one of the most difficult things for authors to grasp is that finishing the writing part of the book is truly only the beginning of their work …

If I may weigh in on this, from the vantage point of someone who is neither author nor publisher nor IndyAuthor, but works with all of the forementioned…

In my experience, the single biggest obstacle that authors have on the road to self-publishing is themselves, period. I have exceedingly few authors who come through my metaphysical doors prepared to be publishers. Most authors get to the point where they type “The End,” and think they’re done; and many feel that, quite bluntly, they shouldn’t have to do anything further. At most, they think that they should have to suffer through editing their work—but most never think about what is truly involved in publishing, which isn’t the same thing as printing.

Moreover, I’ve yet to meet the client that was legacy-published (advance- and royalties-paid author, not subsidy author) who ever felt that their publisher “had done enough for them.” (This is not a criticism of the OP; this is simply a recitation of the sentiment expressed by and large by over 1,000 author-clients, a very large percentage of whom have been legacy-pubbed.) I speculate that this sensation, by the author, generally (not always) comes from a true lack of appreciation for what publishing actually takes, or how much work is involved.

At Booknook.biz, in fact, we’ve been working on a set of documents or tutorials with a lame working title of “So, You Want to Be a Publisher,” which in very broad strokes outlines all the nine bajillion things that a publisher does that an author doesn’t. It’s a long list.

I am asked by clients daily for recommendations for “publicists” and other fantastical creatures to do the work of publicity for their books. I am asked by authors daily to “get their ISBNs” for them, to “pick the cover designer,” to “upload their books for them,” and while we’re at it, can I find them an editor (who works for less than minimum wage), find a $25 cover designer, find royalty-free fonts to replace the expensive fonts they used in their ms (because finding, licensing and downloading fonts is “too hard”), and can they hire someone to send emails to bloggers to get reviews for their books? I am asked not less than five times a day how much an author should price his/her books at; and can I get them a list of the 50 best book bloggers for their genre, or tell them how to get a review at MBR for their ebook, while I’m at it?

This—all of this—is what a publisher does. Researching everything: from traditional publishing to subsidy publishing to indy publishing; buying ISBNs; assigning an imprint name; researching cover design styles, finding a cover designer, negotiating the fees for the cover, finding and licensing art for the cover, finding and licensing fonts for the cover (if the cover designer isn’t doing that) and for the interior; registering the copyright, determining how you will distribute your book (aggregator or yourself, or only in eBook form?), researching the niche/genre and the pricing therefore; learning how to navigate, use and leverage Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Library Thing; writing press releases, finding review blogs for your genre, deciding whether NetGalley is worth the price, determining whether KDP select is for you, scheduling book tours, virtual and physical—and, oh yes, doing all the accounting, bookkeeping and tax documents yourself.

This is what a publisher does, indy, small imprint or Random House. Far too many authors, in my experience, think of themselves as “artists,” and not as businesspeople. As hobbyists, not commercial enterprises.

Here’s the bottom line: publishing is a business. If you are not prepared to be businesslike about it, and run your book(s) like a small business, you are probably better off using a subsidy press and not doing much—and don’t expect much (because, after all, the vast majority of “subsidy” or “partner” publishers are really just grossly over-compensated printers, and you could do the same thing at Createspace for far less money, and get better distribution).

If you are prepared to put in the blood, sweat and tears—and reap the rewards—then indy publishing is for you.

Now, none of this will make a bad book good; but not doing any of it will certainly help tank a good book. And the part that most miss is that, promotionally-speaking, this is the same work that legacy-pubbed midlisters have to do every day, so the differences in the workload are really quite small.

I know—believe me!—that many authors are very shy people, and cringe at the idea of all of this–but this is what it takes. Self-publishing is indeed, in our lifetimes (as it was in Ben Franklin’s, and Aristotle’s, for that matter) a brave new frontier; but one has to remove the artist’s beret and put on that entrepreneur’s hat. If you can do that, then it’s a fantastic opportunity to do well.

The author of this post is Kimberly Hitchens (“Hitch”), and one of the things she does is produce ebooks. She’s listed as an Amazon Professional Conversion Service and an INScribe Preferred Conversion Partner. Follow Hitch on Twitter as well, and then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

Here’s the point of it all: when a publisher posts submission guidelines, they’re not suggestions. They’re not something you might try if you’re not feeling particularly creative today. They’re not even something the publisher dreamed up solely to make your life difficult. There’s actually a pretty good reason that they were written as they were, and following them shows the publisher a number of things:

1. you’re bright enough to follow directions
2. you know how to read
3. you won’t be troublesome down the line as you’re willing to enter the publisher’s turf and play by the publisher’s rules.

Don’t like the guidelines? That’s your right. But move on. Find someone else whose guidelines you do like.

A couple of months ago a colleague and I decided to create a couple of anthologies. Here are the guidelines that we sent out:

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS FOR A HOLIDAY ANTHOLOGY

Imagine your favorite holiday stories. Chances are good the protagonists are a man and a woman, possibly even with children. But where are the stories that feature men together, or women together, that will also warm our hearts at this special season?

That’s where you come in. We’re collecting holiday stories for two anthologies, one featuring male protagonists/couples/families, the other featuring female protagonists/couples/families, and we’d like to hear from you!

Your story should run between 2,000 and 4,000 words, contain no erotica, and be in a winter holiday setting. The only requirement is that it be historical fiction. We’re looking for tomorrow’s classics in time for next year’s holiday season!

Pay will depend on securing a publisher and will be negotiated at that time for accepted stories. Deadline is June 15, 2012, but the earlier, the better. Send Word docs to Jeannine Allard at jeannine@jeannineallard.com.

If you were reading that, you may have picked up on three relevant points. We’re looking for:

• LGBT stories
• historical fiction
• winter themes

I didn’t think it was that difficult to read. But I got deluged with stories about cousins, pets, grandmothers, and straight couples. Stories that were situated in the future or on another planet. Stories written by people who clearly hadn’t even bothered to read the entire call for submissions, but who just sent whatever they had on hand.

It was all a little insulting. A waste of my time (because I am courteous enough to read the stuff and respond to it) and a waste of the writer’s time, as well.

So that was me, one time. I can only imagine what acquisitions editors or literary journal editors must be thinking when these things cross their desks day after day after day. And I can guarantee that none of it is complimentary to the writer.

Do you really want to shoot your literary career in its metaphorical foot? Do you really want your name to be associated with slapdash work, with not being cooperative, with being difficult? Listen, it’s hard enough to get published as it is. Do you really want to make it that much harder?

Trust me: they’re not going to discover your fine literary talent hidden in the midst of your inappropriate submission. It isn’t going to happen. So consider going back to basics: read the call for submissions, submit exactly what they ask you for, no more and no less, and behave like a professional. And then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

The first book will be out in early 2013.

I wrote the proposal for this series nearly ten years ago, which goes to show that perseverence can indeed win out in the end. Remember that, and you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!

Yes and no. That blog title caught your attention, didn’t it?

And while most writers bemoan the fact, it’s still true that many if not most readers will indeed judge a book by its cover … and its title.

I am miserably bad at finding titles for my own work. I was young and stubborn when my first novel came out and I insisted on my version of the title—years later, I learned that the publisher had been right, but it was a little late then. My best title ever, The Illusionist, was a suggestion given by a friend. So what this all means is that I think a lot about titles.

Terri Marie has this to say about finding the right title:

The title of your book is the billboard for the words and ideas you are giving to people. Those four to seven words or so are most critical of all the words you write.

A dear friend of mine, John Harricharan, author of best-selling, “When You can Walk on Water, Take the Boat,” explained to me that the real title comes from within you, like the book. I finally understood that I did not “try” to write the book. It wrote itself. So too, will the title come from within you. What John meant, is that you must love the title you choose. Be confident with it. With that confidence, the energy of the book can come through, almost like a light shining through the window.

In other words, it does not matter so much what the actual title is. What matters is the feeling you have when you read, see or say the title. That’s the key.

Wow. Just a little pressure there. I wish I could have that upwelling of feeling about a title, but it’s never happened yet.

Fortunately for most of us, she goes on to offer some very practical advice:

1. Write down all possible titles. Anything and everything you can think of. You never know which phrase may catch and stick.
2. Pay attention to how YOU feel when you tell others your title. Do you feel proud, tentative, scared, stupid? The feeling you want is like a proud mother or father of your new little baby. Give it the best name you can. It will be called that name the rest of its life.
3. I also researched other titles on amazon. You don’t want a title that everyone has. It will get lost. You also don’t want a title so obscure or undescriptive that nothing will come up on a search.
4. It needs to have intrigue and yet be clear. “Things Your Priest Doesn’t Want You To Know,” would be intriguing. So would “Things Your (fill in the blank) Doesn’t Want You To Know.” We humans like to know what others are doing, thinking feeling etc.
5. Does your title help the reader to become a better person? We want to strive higher, yet it has to be an achievable goal without huge effort. If your title is “How to increase your IQ by 10 points, studying an extra 5 hours a day,” I’m not interested.
6. Sum up your book in one sentence. Write as many as you can of these one liners. If you get just one chance to give a message from your book to others, what would you say? That’s often all you get. Use it wisely.
7. When it all comes down to it, go with your gut.

Obviously a couple of these suggestions apply only to nonfiction books, but novelists can extrapolate what they say into the fiction realm.

Feeling better? I’m not. I currently have a novel in search of a title. While it’s true that the future publisher may change the title (and probably will), it’s still important to present something strong and compelling to the publisher. With this in mind, I narrowed my options down to two possibilities. I sent them out to my online writing community and asked for opinions, and they came back weighing in more or less equally for each of the two titles. Damn!

Over at Writing-World, John Floyd has some things to say about choosing the “right” title: it shouldn’t be dull, it should be easy to remember, it should be appropriate. Read his entire article for sources to jog your imagination.

And for a little fun, once you’ve got a title or two in mind, head over to Lulu’s title scorer to see how it might work for you!

In the meantime, I’m stuck with my title dilemma, none of my research having given me any definitive direction. I hope your quest goes better! And if you have any secrets, methods, or ideas about finding the right title, please share it here! Then you’ll be … beyond the elements of style!