[Miss Tilda ~ Photo taken by Anne Carmack]
The title of this entry was taken from a piece in the latest issue of the New York Times Sunday Book Review ~ a review of Emily Fox Gordon's Book of Days, a collection of personal essays. I am not familiar with Gordon's work, but the review explained that she has had two memoirs and a novel published, and this is her first book of personal essays. It was the last part of the review that inspired me to get online immediately and write this entry while the bundle of cuteness pictured above sleeps at my feet.
"Gordon raises the flag of cultural fatigue against the memoir and questions the essential honesty of memoir-writing. The dishonesty inherent in memoir, she argues, is that an entire life cannot be contained in one book, and so the writer is forced to follow only one story line: Me and my drugs, me and my dysfunctional family, me and my depression, me and my eating disorder.
The publishers forced her, she writes, to create a narrative arc to bolster her original personal essay ~ and that necessitated that her book become not the full story of her life but...the predictable contemporary memoir, a by-now threadbare template of dissolution, struggle and (cue sunlight parting the clouds) requisite redemption." ~Alex Kuczynski
I created a book proposal about a year ago for a collection of personal essays. That proposal was wildly different from the proposal that was recently accepted by North Light, and sent to a different publisher. The passage cited above hit home for me because of that experience. The short story is that after an inordinate amount of time passed, I finally had a phone conversation with the editor about my proposal. During that conversation, the main thing I did was listen and take notes, and the words I was writing down, for the most part, weren't at all complimentary. The proposal was pretty much torn apart.
Now, I don't mind such frankness, and I did not take anything personally, but after the phone call was over, one thing struck me, which was that the editor kept referring to the book as a memoir. I won't say that none of the comments were appropriate and constructive to what I sent, but I will say that by reviewing and considering my proposal as a memoir, the editor missed the entire point of the book. And as a result, was giving me feedback that was not in alignment with the actual book I presented. I must point out that one of the comments was that I needed to have the "...template of dissolution, struggle and (cue sunlight parting the clouds) requisite redemption" Gordon speaks of in Book of Days. The editor did not express that verbatim, but was essentially saying the same thing.
I don't want to make it sound like the editor was a cruel taskmaster, quite the contrary. Everything was shared with respect and kindness, and, as I said, I much prefer honesty - even if it isn't what I want to hear - than some sugar-coated half-truth. The editor also gave me the opportunity to re-work one of the chapters and review it once more, an opportunity I took. Ultimately, the proposal was rejected.
After my phone call with the editor, I initially walked around wondering, "Is my book a memoir? Is that what I am supposed to write? Was there something in my proposal that gave the impression I wanted to write a memoir?" I looked at that possibility, explored what story arc ~ what linear, parting-of-the-clouds narrative of my life ~ I could create and was willing to share with the world. And within 24 hours the clouds did, indeed, drift outside of my peripheral vision, leaving behind a bright, clear sky that confirmed what I knew all along: My book was not a memoir; my book was a collection of personal essays. I said these exact words in my second phone conversation with the editor, and followed that up by explaining that if it was a memoir the editor wanted, mine was not the book for that publisher. This wasn't meant to be a challenge or some kind of negative selling tactic, it was just the truth. If that truth meant the proposal would be rejected, then both the editor and myself would be saved from a world of agony. Not to mention that if the book ended up being some kind of tortured compromise between my intentions (and the stories of my life) and the publisher's idea of what would be most marketable, then the integrity behind every word would be completely lost.
I wasn't trying to stand on some kind of moral/artistic high ground, I simply wasn't capable of drastically altering the basic structure of the book in order to please a publisher. The proposal was returned to me this past March and I still haven't opened the box it came in. It is on my shelf, sitting quietly for the time when I can take it back out and decide what to do with it. I have begun working on my book for North Light, and I know this is the book I am supposed to be working on right now. This book is no less fulfilling, exciting or meaningful, it is just a different book. And the work I did on the other proposal might not ever serve any greater purpose other than teaching me how to stay true to my intentions even when certain entities, such as a publisher, tries to steer me in another direction.
Or maybe the stories outlined in that proposal will make their way into other projects, other books, other publications and maybe another self-published book. That story has yet to reveal itself, but I know it will, and I'm just happy I get to be along for the ride.
this is her first book of personal essays. It was the last part of the review that inspired me to get online immediately and write this entry while the bundle of cuteness pictured above sleeps at my feet.
Posted by: True Religion Outlet | May 13, 2011 at 11:23 PM
I am so excited for you. I am going to print this post as a lesson for me.
BTW, I always stop and write what people say during those kinds of phone calls. It causes me to pause and not rebut what is being said. And...it gives me their true words for later reflection, instead what what I later translate their words into.
I came up with a book idea while on the back of Mike's bike, riding thru the California desert. I can't wait to share it with YOU!
(Note: I am catching up with your posts before I dive into a weeks worth of email. What a gift to be insired FIRST!)
Posted by: ann | August 21, 2010 at 10:05 AM
This brings me back to that editor's admonition I quote in the last chapter of HWC: "Readers like to be taken on a journey . . . " A completely fabricated map with that rainbow/sunset/happy after ending. And my response "they are already on a journey!"
Alas, not all books are art, not all movies are films, and not all truth is true.
Posted by: Karen Maezen Miller | August 18, 2010 at 08:05 PM
This is so interesting to me!
I'm glad you knew you weren't writing a memoir. How interesting that you realized she was "reading the book wrong" so quickly after the conversation. Good on you for that. I'm sure it saved you a world of grief! Though I do hate the mental tizzy it caused for you: Am I writing a memoir? Should I be?
I'm glad, in the end, you stayed true to what you needed to write. And I am, of course, looking forward to learning more about your new book!
Memoir, by the way, is one of my most-favorite genres to read. I love reading well-written stories of real lives examined and lived out. I don't like that the market has become glutted with them -- so much so that they've almost become a cliche -- but give me Karen Armstrong's "The Spiral Staircase" or Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat Pray Love" any day ... I'll be a happy camper! :)
Posted by: Christianne | August 18, 2010 at 05:45 PM
Warning: this will sound like a rant, but I ain't ranting at you, I am ranting on your behalf.
*
When I was much younger, I always thought that getting a publishing deal was the Holy Grail of all Holy Grails out there. Then I got one and understood so many things that now that I've got half an idea for another proposal to start making the rounds at some point next year, I am not even fussed by the prospect of rejection. This is because while working as a writer, I've had the good fortune to work as an editor too, going through such conversations with various publishers:
Publisher: 'Steph, I'd like you to go through this and tell me how publishable you think it is.
Me: 'Ok, great'.
Some time later...
Publisher: 'What did you think of those short stories?'
Me: 'Well, quite frankly I thought they were shite. No structure, no actual story to half of them, and don't even get me started on the grammatical atrocities... They need re-writing for a start, then hacked down and shortened, then re-written again and then edited.'
Publisher: 'Yes I agree, they were bloody awful. But they sell, people buy this shit! We're publishing them anyway.'
Ehrm... yeah, well, ok, why even asking me to go through them and advise one way or the other? Dollar is king, so there's no point in discussing their viability when it is their immense marketability that has already decided their future anyway.
In related shambles: publishers want to be able to pigeonhole a project very clearly. There is no fantasy-cum-adventure-cum-romance novel. There is fantasy or adventure or romance. Hence, you talking about 'personal essays' effectively means nothing to them, or better, they know exactly what you're talking about, except they want to ensure you write it AS a memoir, much better if as a memoir of misery, which sells particularly well these days.
Nobody wants to read of creative happy people (well, we want to, but a publisher will tell you that we don't!); they are all after tragic life stories, liars and sinners. But of course, the only thing that the audience loves much more than a sinner is a reformed sinner, the bastard who has gone to hell and has incensed him/herself on the way out of it ('Chicago' through and through this, but so very applicable to what the industry churns out it's untrue). There ain't no shelf for 'personal essays' around here, but there is one for 'memoir' and even one for 'tragic life stories'. If you can't (or are unwilling to) shoehorn your project into those, you're much better off waiting for a different tide to bring it out to sea. Well done for doing so; lots of writers would jump at the opportunity and destroy their work and their integrity in the process. It takes courage and stamina to say 'no thanks'.
Posted by: Steph | August 18, 2010 at 11:45 AM
Christine,
I had a very similar experience in ways with my previous manuscript ( the one you saw). It was initially seemingly accepted by my first choice publisher but they came back to Laini and I wanting such a significant change in an aspect that i felt like it compromised the meaning and passion of the book for us. Sometimes I regret not going with their advice but on the other hand it's allowed me to now work on two books that I have even more excitement about as I took what I loved about the first one and integrated it into the current projects. The other thing is why does a memoir or autobiography have to "be" any which way? I think Spilling Open proved that readers cherish books that illuminate the messy juice and exquisiteness of the unresolved fragile moments as much as the ones that make their way to a full circle, sometimes redemptive, resolution or realization. Readers are looking for connection and not always solutions/ redemption in their reading and relationships.
Posted by: Alexandra | August 18, 2010 at 09:02 AM
Amen. You know the way. You are on the right path and I am very excited for you! You mind if I continue to feel inspired by your leaps? This is just what my today needs...thanks.
Posted by: Cassie | August 18, 2010 at 08:38 AM