Contracts, Publicity, and Everything Else You Want to Know About Small Publishers

I asked Vana Roth, author of A Nation of Expendables, about her experiences with her publisher, if she had much communication with them, if she had to sign a complicated publishing contract, and how much publicity and promotion she had to do. She very generously responded:

Hi, Pat.

Experience with a Small Publisher 

The following is based on personal opinion of working with a small publisher. Since this is my first book, I have nothing else to compare it to. Therefore, in answer to your questions, my experience with a small publisher has been very positive. Other than the original book release being pushed back a few months, everything has gone really well. Whether publishing with a large or small imprint, release dates tend to fluctuate and it’s a matter of being patient. Regardless of what happens when, the contract states the length of time the publisher has to get the book from contract award to print. It can take eighteen months or longer depending on the length of the book. Eighteen months may sound like a long time but it really isn’t when considering how long it can take to get a manuscript through edit, copy-editing, and artwork. A whole lot of coordinating goes on in the background and timing depends on the publishers schedule as well as those chosen to perform other services. If the publisher fails to publish in the specified amount of time, all assigned rights revert to the author. The author is free to pursue another publisher with none of the original publisher costs charged back to the author. A Nation of Expendables took fourteen months from contract award to print. 

Communication 

It’s my understanding; publishers may assign the first read of a manuscript to an editor or editors. After reading, the editor makes a recommendation to the publisher as to whether the manuscript is viable. Based on editor recommendations, genre, topic and reader interests the publisher makes the final decision about offering a contract. The editor assigned to my book was the first to inform me of the contract award. A couple days later, the publisher followed up with a personal phone call for introductions. A few days later, I received the contract in the mail for review. All-important communications have been handled through email or regular mail, which I prefer since it gives me a ready reference for anything I might forget and a legal copy of what’s been discussed and agreed to beyond the original contract. I’ve talked several times with everyone who’s worked on my book. Communication is essential especially when you think about the importance of the final product. Once the book goes to print, it’s extremely costly to make changes; it has to be right the first time. I haven’t any negative things to say about the experience thus far. I suppose it has to do with my publisher and the professionals she contracted to handle my book. I had about a thousand questions and they were all answered in a timely manner. Everyone was very friendly, accessible and professional. Other authors under the publishers imprint have been very helpful in offering support and advice. It’s been a huge learning curve for me but since everyone’s been so helpful to the Newbie, it’s been a real pleasure. 

Publishing Contract 

Immediately after submitting a synopsis to agents and publishers, I started researching traditional publishing contracts to find out what’s standard, what to watch out for, what areas could and should be re-negotiated and what legally needs to be present by federal law. There are tons of great sources on the internet to research publishing contracts. If you’re ever in doubt, you can have an attorney who specializes in publishing contracts and copyright law review a contract.  

I was originally offered (3) contracts for A Nation of Expendables. One I rejected because the publisher wanted a re-write with more graphic detail of the blood and guts. The second was a one-page contract from an attorney turned publisher. He sent a one-page contract; I sent back a seven-page amendment, needless to say, the relationship deteriorated from there. Although royalties would have been paid at 50% on print copies, the contract was exclusive and for an indefinite period (pretty much forever). Standard contracts run from three to five years. The publisher also wanted 100% of the subsidiary rights with no provision for royalties or payment for these rights. Subsidiary rights are but not limited to, foreign language translations, film options, TV options, brail editions and other formats such as ebooks and audio CD’s. The contract was also missing the actual publishing date required by federal law. The publisher has to specify when the book will be in actual print and available for purchase. It’s my understanding the federal ruling came about since some publishers would enter into contracts with authors with no intention of ever publishing their books. They would tie up the rights for as long as possible to keep certain books from competing with books on similar subjects they wanted to put money into promoting. The only rights assigned to my publisher are English language rights in print and English language ebooks. I retained all other rights but have an option to assign these rights to my current publisher for a percentage if I so choose and if opportunity presents itself. The three-year contract I received was very fair and in my mind as close to perfect as one gets. There were only a couple, minor areas needing negotiation.  

Negotiating a Contract 

If you’re negotiating a contract without an agent as a middleman, you have to remember all publishers expect to make a profit, which is normal. They will keep a larger percentage if you allow them. If you’re uncomfortable with the percentage offered, there’s nothing stopping you from asking for more. The worse that will happen is the counter offer may be rejected. From what I’ve read, royalties on print copies range from 5% to 15% and 10% to 50% on electronic formats depending on the publisher. When you get a contract, pay close attention to the percentage of royalties on ebooks. Established publishers could go up to 50% split since there’s little cost involved once the book’s been formatted and put on a server for download.  

In my opinion, a good traditional contract from a small publisher to an unproven author offers royalties on a graduated scale based on sales volume: 10% on the first 5,000 copies, 12% on the next 5,000 and 15% on anything after in print form with a minimum of 20-25% on all ebooks. If you can get more, which is difficult…great…but if you can’t, in my opinion the graduated scale is very good. If a publisher offers 50% on all print copies, you may need to pay special attention to what’s missing in the contract. You may be signing control of your book away for life and/or your subsidiary rights without any financial benefit. There are a number of other issues addressed in the contract such as copyright ownership, first right of refusal on sequels, book character ownership, etc. A contract from a reputable publisher will put everything up front and in writing. If these issues aren’t addressed in the contract, I’d have serious doubts about the publishers’ integrity. 

You probably already know this but under a traditional contract there’s never a charge to the author for any publishing services. Never pay for artwork, edit, copy-edit or printing. A reputable traditional publisher will assume all up front costs. Some small publishers may or may not offer an advance. Mine did not and I didn’t have a problem with it. I think the hardest thing for an author to decide is whether to accept a contract or hold out for one they think may better. 

About Agents 

Since I haven’t an agent and negotiated the contract myself, I don’t have to pay anyone 15% off the top of my earnings. If this book does well, it will be easier to find an agent and/or if necessary, another publisher for the next book. I’m still not sure at this point if there’s a benefit to having an agent unless an author’s only interested in publishing with a large imprint since it’s almost impossible to get their attention without one. Unless you have multiple manuscripts the agent agrees to represent, once a publisher’s found and the contract is signed, there’s very little left for them to do. Personally, I’d rather pay a good publicist the 15%. 

Publicity and Promotion 

Publicity and promotion is a tough one, my publisher has a very active publicist. It’s still early for my book and there may be more requirements. So far, the only things I’ve been asked to provide is a short bio, applicable website addresses, and blurbs about the book that my editors helped write. The publicist takes this information and copies of the book to conventions to generate interest. She also presents the book to a variety of chain stores. The goal is to get the chain store to put the book on their approved purchase list and to stock it. The publicist also helps set up book signings and interviews. No matter what type of publisher is sought, all authors nowadays are required to promote their own work so unless you have $25-50,000 for a personal publicist and unlimited funds for marketing, you’ll be required to do a fair amount of promoting yourself. 

Conclusion 

I consider myself very lucky when it comes to being published. There are close to 1,756,000 fiction and non-fiction manuscripts submitted to publishers (big or small) each year. Between 3-5% of those ever get published. These figures do not include books from self-published authors or technical manuals (medical, technological or mechanical). This is why I chose to go with a small publisher with good distribution. The odds of being noticed by one of the larger imprints were very low. In addition, smaller houses can keep books active longer. If a book doesn’t generate immediate interest, a large publisher may only keep a book active for six weeks. My publisher will keep the book active for eighteen months unless we agree to another contract at the end of this one keeping it active longer. At some point since small publishers don’t have millions of dollars behind them for promotion, they’ll ask you to submit a promotional business plan. What they’re looking for are the methods (email, direct mail, web site, phone calls, newspapers, etc.) you intend to use to help promote your work. 

Other than that, I can’t think of anything else to tell you. If you have any other questions…please feel free to ask! 

Always a pleasure, take care,

Vana Roth 

For more about A Nation of Expendables see: http://vanaroth.com

Self-Publish Or Not

Vana Roth, author of A Nation of Expendables, consented to be my guest blogger today. I asked her if she ever considered self-publishing, and she responded: 

“I was curious about the process so I’ve been reading up on self-publishing. I never realized there were so many options available. This really sounds like a great way to go if you’re confident and tired of waiting for a traditional publishing contract. 

“If you’re the hands on type, you can contract all the necessary services like editing, copy-edit, formatting and illustration (cover art), then turn the finished work over to a printing source. This is a perfect opportunity for an author to control every aspect of the process. There’s also the alternative of finding a self-publishing company who offers different levels of service so you don’t have to worry about contracting the other stuff yourself. As long as the company chosen is reputable and known for superior quality in the final product, this sounds like feasible option.  

“I’ve the utmost respect for those courageous enough to take on the task. However, I’m not the least bit embarrassed to say I’m a coward and self-publishing for me is out of the question. I think it was Clint Eastwood in a Dirty Harry movie who said, ‘A man’s got to know his limitations.’ Well, I surely know my limitations. The process is just too scary. If I screwed it up, it would be far too costly, first because of the personal financial investment and second because I know relatively little about the inner workings of the industry. I buy books, read them, occasionally write them and that’s pretty much it…lol!  

“When I wrote my book, I never gave it a second thought. I probably could’ve gotten through the sub-contracting part by researching blogs and publishing sites until I found the best editors and illustrators. The real stopper was marketing and distribution, which in my mind is too critical to leave to chance. If you’ve been in the writing business all your life, odds are you’ve probably made some great connections along the way and know all the ins and outs. Or, if you’re a big name like Bill O’Reilly with lots of money behind you, all those little details don’t matter. Someone else can be hired to take care of them for you. However, for someone like me who hasn’t any connections or previous experience, this could mean the death of my book. I have run into a number of self-published authors who’re really struggling with these two areas, particularly distribution. I’m not saying it can’t or shouldn’t be done. I just think author’s considering this option need a solid plan on how to get their books into stores. There’s all sorts of things to consider like how to become an approved supplier and formulating return policies. I for one would rather worry about writing my next book and leave these things to a paid professional. 

“So, when all’s said and done, based on my lack of experience and needed connections, I think I made the right decision in waiting for a traditional publishing contract. I was extremely fortunate to be chosen by Lachesis Publishing and am grateful not to have to worry about things I know nothing about. 

“Vana Roth – A Nation of Expendables

“For more about me and A Nation of Expendables see: http://vanaroth.com

Writing the Perfect Character

I never heard of a Mary Sue character until last week, and now it seems as if everywhere I go online I run into an article about Mary Sue or her male counterpart Marty Stu. These highly idealized characters are often author wish-fulfillment, being unrealistically bright, beautiful, and able to do anything. Though the author considers the characters to be perfect, they are not. In fact, I’m not certain it’s possible to write an unflawed character, because the arrogance of perfection is a flaw in itself. Mary Sues are annoying, which is another flaw. And Mary Sues are flat. Physically, of course, they are curvaceous or muscular or both, but they are uninteresting. Which, of course, is another flaw.

To me, a purposely flawed character is just as bad, an anti-Mary Sue. If a character is well drawn, if the story is well told, the flaws will show up naturally. A character must lose occasionally. Where is the suspense if every time a character attempts to do something she succeeds? And in that loss is a shadow of the flaw, because the loss must be realistic. Did the character lose because of arrogance, assuming she knew what to do when she didn’t? Did the character lose because she wasn’t physically fit or knowledgeable enough? Did the character lose because she didn’t plan correctly, because she was unfocused, because of her inner conflicts?

Losses force a fully-realized character to change so in the end she can succeed. A Mary Sue doesn’t change. She cannot become more perfect, and if she becomes less perfect, she becomes flawed and stops being a perfect character.

Depth of character is revealed in the choices someone makes under pressure. Pressure is risk. Risk is conflict. Mary Sues, being perfect, do not feel pressure, do not truly risk since they cannot lose. Without the element of risk, without conflict, there is no real story, only a string of episodes. Just think what Superman would be like without his Krytonite — totally uninteresting and flawed in his perfection. But Kryptonite, to me, is a purposeful flaw, put there to make Superman more interesting, which makes him seem even more of a comic book character. Oh, wait. He is a comic book character!

So, to keep your story from being comic-bookish and to keep your characters from being Mary Sues, put your characters under pressure, give them much to lose, and let them change because of their experiences. Then you will have a perfect character: someone real, someone empathetic, someone to remember.

The Mystery of Mystery Novels

I don’t think I have the proper attitude for reading today’s novels. (Or yesterday’s novels, either – I tried to read Nicholas Nickleby and by the time I paged through the list of illustrations, a biography of Dickens, the introduction, the acknowledgements, a note on the text, suggested reading, the first preface, the second preface, the table of contents, and the first sentence which was so long it was also the first paragraph, I had to take a break.)

I used to like reading mysteries, especially the old style of mystery where a crime was committed before the story began, and we followed along with the detective as he or she tried to figure out whodunit. It was a puzzle, an intellectual game, and if the characters were flat and the guy detectives had a new dame every book, well, that was the formula and rather fun. Who could take it seriously? It seems as if we are supposed to take the current crop of sleuths seriously even if they are sassy and glib and don’t take themselves seriously. We’re supposed to care about their relationship problems, their obnoxious children, their annoying families. Which is fine, but where, in all that, is the mystery? Unless the mystery is why the writers are so popular.

I just finished reading a non-mystery mystery. Half the story was told from the point of view of the sleuths, who were so poorly drawn the only thing I know about them is that they were on a honeymoon; I have absolutely no feel for them as people. The other half of the story was told from the point of view of the jewel thieves the sleuths were after, so I knew whodunnit, I knew why they dunnit, I knew how they dunnit. Where was the mystery? And where was the suspense? The book had only two outcomes: either the sleuths caught the thieves or they didn’t. So what? Perhaps if the characters were well drawn I could root for one or the other, but as it was, I simply did not care.

I used to think mysteries were easy to write. You conceived of a mystery, created an intriguing detective to solve it, hid clues in obvious and not so obvious places, drew dried herring across the path to confuse the scent, and when the mystery was solved, the book ended. But apparently I was wrong. If it was easy, we’d have great mysteries with great characters and I wouldn’t be writing this.

Why Should I Read Your Novel? Why Should You Read Mine?

Why should I read your novel? Why should anyone? Only you know the answer to that, and you tell us by the story you choose to tell, the characters you choose to create, the themes you choose to develop.

We read not so much to escape our lives but to add meaning, understanding, and depth to our days. If we find nothing but the same old stories told in the same old ways, we come away from the experience intellectually and emotionally unsatisfied. If the characters don’t change in a fundamental way, if they don’t struggle with an idea bigger than they are, we don’t change either.

Too often when I finish reading a book, I wonder why I bothered. The story is stale, the characters undeveloped, the stakes trivial, the theme banal. This is particularly true of books written by prolific authors. After three or four books, they plagiarize themselves, using the same basic characters and plots they did before. Perhaps their first book was fresh, with something new to say, but that something becomes stale with each succeeding book.

Not being a published writer myself, I don’t know how to keep that from happening, especially in today’s book market where an author is expected to churn out a clone every year. And new writers are being steered into that same pattern. We’re told to write in the genre we read because obviously we like the genre and because we are familiar with its conventions. But perhaps the opposite is true. Perhaps we should write in a genre we don’t read so we don’t keep perpetuating clichés. We might unwittingly rehash old stories in the unfamiliar genre, but there is greater chance of saying something new.

My current work-in-progress is developing into an allegorical apocalyptic novel, which is bizarre because I don’t read that particular type of book; I don’t even know if that is a type. What isn’t bizarre, though, is all I am learning by writing in an unfamiliar genre. I may very well be writing a clichéd story — I have no way of knowing — but at least I am coming to it from my own unique viewpoint, not the distilled vision of all the authors who have gone before. And I am learning more about writing from this novel than any of my previous ones because I have to pull what comes next out of the creative ether, not from my memory of the stories I have previously read.

Without a mystery at its core as in my previous works, I have to search for other ways of adding tension to the story such as the inner conflicts that beset my hero. How much freedom is he willing to give up for security? How much security is he willing to give up for security? How much of freedom and security are illusory? And I am becoming cognizant of theme, symbols, and other mythic elements as ways of unifying disparate parts of the story.

So why should you read my book when it’s completed? Because, if I do it right, it will be an entertaining way for you come to terms with one of the major dilemmas facing us today, and it will take you into the life of a character whose conflicts and choices will help make sense of your own life.

At least, that’s the way story is supposed to work.

Stories, Cliches, and Finding the Truth

We are steeped in story. From birth to death, story forms our lives. For some people — writers, quasi-hermits, employees of the publishing, movie, and television industries — story is their life. More stories are available to us in more media than ever before in history, including the stories we share with each other and ourselves. What is a daydream if not a story of the future we tell ourselves? And at night, while sleeping, our dreams tell us other stories. No wonder we have such a hard time finding a story that is not clichéd.

But they do exist. In fact, anyone can write a non-clichéd story if he or she does the work to find the truth of the story, but all too often writers with nothing to say look to books and movies for the truth and end up with rehashed forgeries.

Stories of pattern killers (serial killers by another name) became clichéd very quickly. How many times have we heard or read that same bit about the killer being a white male between the ages of . . . Never mind. You probably know it better than I do. Because so many writers borrowed their truths from previous stories about pattern killers, the only thing new they had to add was the grisly murder pattern, each one more gruesome than the last. The way to tell a non-clichéd serial killer story is to find the truth: in a bizarre sort of way, a pattern killer story is romance between the killer and the hunter. Their relationship forms the story, not the murders. And, on a deeper level, it is the story of the hunter finding the killer within himself. Thomas Harris portrayed this brilliantly in The Red Dragon, but when he wrote Hannibal, he chose grisliness over truth. You may not agree with me about the truth of the pattern killer story, but that is my truth. It is up to you to find your own truth.

So how do we do we find the truth for our stories, not just pattern killer stories? By going small, by knowing everything possible about our characters, the streets they walk, the way they think, the places and people that make up their world. David Morrell traveled to get the feel of his settings, and he took survival courses to find out what his characters would experience in wild, but not all of us have the time, money, or inclination to travel to distant places or to take physically taxing courses. Nor is it necessary. We can find the truth in our own neighborhoods. We can walk the streets and take note of everything we see. How do those streets differ from any other we have traveled? By being true to character and place, we find the small bits of action that tell the story’s truth. We are used to thinking of action scenes as car chases, fights, and other horrifying events, but an action scene can be as subtle as a look or a touch of a hand. That is where the truth lies, in the unexpected details.

A story, when set in a particular place with a particular character, will have a truth that no other story has. If we have the patience and skill to find the story’s truth, our truth, we can tell it without reducing it to cliché.

A Reason For Now. A Reason For Later.

During the past few months, I was privileged to read the first chapters of many unpublished novels and the critiques other readers left. One thing that interested me was how often readers would mention that a certain episode didn’t fit and should be taken out, and the writer would counter that it was necessary to the story. Can’t argue with that, I suppose, since only the writer knows what he or she intended. But it made me wonder why readers don’t see the same thing in published books. Do we just assume because it’s been published that everything fits? Do we have a different set of rules for published and non-published works?

Last night the answer came to me. It’s not so much that we’re looking for things to pick at in a work we’re critiquing. (Is that even a word? I’ve used it so much that I no longer know.) It’s that good authors know how make every episode in their novel do double duty. If has to be in there to set up a later episode or scene, it must also have a reason for being in there now. If a character places a gun in an unlocked desk drawer to make it available for a murder in a later scene, for example, the character must be a reason for putting the gun in the drawer and not locking it. Perhaps he’s a cop and was cleaning it. So what could have been so terrible that he would forget his training and toss it in an unlocked drawer? Maybe one of his kids is trying to drown the other in the bathtub. A skilled author can make the gun in the unlocked drawer seem so reasonable and natural that readers forget it’s there until someone finds it and shoots it. The reverse is also true. If there is a gun in an unlocked drawer at the beginning, someone must use it in the end.

So, to make your novel tight and keep from jarring your readers out of the story because something doesn’t fit, make certain that everything has two reasons for being there: a reason for now and a reason for later.

It’s Not the Will to Win, But the Will to Prepare to Win That Makes the Difference

I never wanted to write the Great American Novel (whatever that is). I wrote my first novel to see if I had the discipline to do it, and discovered that I did. It was terrible, though, so much so that I do not count it as one of my works. Besides having broken all the rules of good writing, especially the one demanding that the writing be good, it had too much of me in it. The one positive thing about it is that I will never again make the amateurish mistake of writing a thinly disguised autobiography.

Although I have improved my writing with each succeeding book, I have not yet found a publisher. In publishing, as in life, a great deal of luck is involved, and I have never been lucky. But that does not keep me from acting as if I will get published.

Football coach Paul Bryant said, “It’s not the will to win, but the will to prepare to win that makes the difference.” Many writers have the will to get published, but they do not have the will to prepare for that eventuality. They hold onto their prose as if it were gold and not merely the coin that will get them where they want to be. They are profligate with adverbs and stingy with rewrites. They think readers are waiting breathlessly for their immortal prose.

I am not one of those writers, or at least I hope I’m not. I slash every excess word, I challenge every adverb, I write and I rewrite, I work on my query letter and synopsis. And I plan my publicity strategy for when my book is published. I am already getting known on the internet. (All right. So only two or three people know my name. It’s a start.) I blog. I’ve joined social networking sites. I have a website. I write articles. I think of ways to talk storeowners into letting me do a book signing, and I think of ways to make it a success. I plan speeches to give to local groups. I’m learning how to juggle several writing-related projects, such as editing, blogging, writing, rewriting, because once a writer is published, more is required than simply writing, and I want to be ready.

Hundreds of thousands of people write a novel every year, and few will find a publisher. If the will to prepare to win makes a difference, perhaps some year I will be one of the lucky ones even if I haven’t written the Great American Novel.

add to del.icio.us : Add to Blinkslist : add to furl : Digg it : add to ma.gnolia : Stumble It! : add to simpy : seed the vine : : : TailRank : post to facebook

Follow the Rules or Don’t Follow the Rules

In my quest for publication, I read books about writing, books about how to get published, books about staying out of the slush pile. I also read articles by agents and editors explaining what they are looking for. Although I have not yet reached my goal of getting published, my advice is good. It is based on a distillation of these books and articles combined with my experiences with agents and editors and writing.

One thing I have learned is that there are four groups of writers: the successful ones who make big money for their publishers. These authors can write however they wish. Their books sell millions of copies, but that does not mean they write well (though once they did write well enough to get published). Novice writers would be wise not to base their conception of good writing on these works.

The second group of writers is also published, whether by traditional publishers, POD publishers, and e-publishers — anyone who requires a submissions process. (There is a bit of gray area here that I don’t want to get into, but the point is still the same.) Some of these writers may achieve a modicum of success, some may never be able to quit their day jobs. Each succeeding book they write is open to review by publishers, and there is no guarantee they will continue to be published. These authors have a little bit of leeway when it comes to writing. They can break the rules, but only if they write well enough to make it work.

The third group of writers is the self-published. They can write however they wish, break whatever rules they wish. As long as they can sell a few books, most are content, but very few self-published writers ever make much money.

Then there are all the rest of us. We are the ones who need to follow the rules. Sure we can write however we wish, but if we wish to get published, we would do well to use those rules as a guideline for editing our work. As long as we are trying to get published, we need to attract a single reader: an agent or editor. That is who our target is, not our ideal reader. Our ideal reader may love the story, but until we hit the target, they will never see the published book.

I lied: there is a fifth group — those who are so talented or so lucky that they will attract an agent or an editor no matter what rules they break. Since I am not in this group, I have to try to follow the rules.

Unfortunately, I am not a very good rule follower — I want to do it my way — but if I heeded my own advice, I would greatly enhance my chances of getting published.

The Road to Rejection is Paved with Bad Beginnings

The metaphor in the title of this article might be a cliché, but it is true. The number one reason for agents and editors to reject a manuscript is a poor beginning for the simple reason that if the beginning is bad, they read no further.

So what is a good beginning? I can tell you that it must be interesting; it must hook the reader; it should introduce the main character and the basic conflict; it must pertain to the story and not be tacked on simply to attract attention; it should not contain any adverbs; it should not contain any backstory; and it should be well written without being unintentionally funny, such as a character who thinks to himself — who else would he think to? But I can’t tell you how to write a good beginning, and after reading Hooked by Les Edgerton, I am even less equipped to tell you than before I read it. The problem is that I was not moved by even one of the first lines or first paragraphs that he held up as stellar examples of good beginnings. In fact, as constant a reader as I am, I was so unimpressed by every single one of them that I did not add any of the novels to my reading list. This does not mean I think they were bad beginnings, only that they didn’t move me.

Since I can’t tell you how to write a good beginning, I will tell you some of Edgerton’s red flags that keep agents and editors from reading further:

Opening with a dream. Understandable why they would hate that beginning; I do, and I’m sure you do too. Talk about a cliché! The only thing worse is having your character wake up at the end of the book and discovering the entire story was a dream. Makes me feel cheated.

A character waking up to an alarm clock or a radio announcement of a major event. This tells the agent or editor that your book will be filled with tedious details. If your book is filled with the tedious details of day-to-day living, it would be a good idea to get rid of them. If it isn’t filled with such details, it would be a good idea to write an opening that better reflects your writing.

Too little dialogue. If there is no dialogue on the first page, editors and agents will generally pass because it is a sign of densely written prose, which no longer sells well.

Opening with dialogue. The only time this is acceptable is if the speakers are immediately identified. If we don’t know who the people are, why would anyone care what they are saying? I know I don’t. This goes double for rumination. Nothing is more boring than a character who sits around “thinking to himself.”

Other than that, you will have to find your own way to a good beginning, as will I, and hope that whatever beginning we write will be so great it cannot be ignored.