The Accidental Writer

(NOTE: The following is a memoir and as such is told using lies, misinformation, faulty geography, and plain BS. Dialog has been invented for greater dramatic purposes. The moral compass is pointed south where the food is better. Has Oprah called yet?)

Being a book midwife means never getting your name on the front cover of a book. There might be a mention in the acknowledgements but the outside belongs to the writer who had the original idea. If a midwife could invent his or her own stories, they would write instead of helping other people write.

In August 2005, Cypress House publisher Cynthia Frank and I sat at Pane e Vino in San Francisco waiting for our entrees. We had been presenters at the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference earlier in the month and the conversation drifted to the problems of first-time writers.

“There’s enough books on the subject,” she said.

"Except for John Gardner and few others, they’re written by writers who can't write. I read the damn things hoping to find advice I can pass on to clients and the books go into the recycling bin.”

“I like the chapbook you made for the conference. Nice bit of postmodern promotion. Ever thought of turning THE DOG WALKED into a book?”

“So far I’ve been asked to critique three different manuscripts for free, like I don’t do this for a living. A book means more requests for freebies.”

“Weenie.”

A man may call another man a weenie without repercussion. When a woman tries the same, male pride bleats and bleeds. Roast duck and ravioli stuffed with butternut squash arrived at the table while we talked about how to expand the current DOG WALKED. Cynthia tucked into the ravioli and made agreeable sounds. The meal ended with a contract and my promise to send in the finished manuscript by November 15 for release in spring of 2006.

We met at the Mendocino Book Arts Festival in 1987, where I was printing broadsides from lead type on a nineteenth century Albion handpress. The late Eighties were the last of the fun years in book publishing, when companies paid attention to editorial standards and independent bookstores held a major share of the market. Cynthia and I kept a watch on each other’s relative sanity as the industry changed through the Nineties, and Cypress House grew under her ownership. She helped me find my first clients when I went freelance. I owed her.

Through September and October I ignored regular hours and weekends to edit three novels and a lone nonfiction work on bird watching. The checks from clients mollified the landlord so I could give DOG WALKED the proper attention in November. How hard could it be to crank out one hundred pages about writing? I had labored in trade publishing for seventeen years, and written a fat novel (SMALL LIVES: A NOVEL IN THREE NOTEBOOKS AND FOUR DECADES) currently with an agent in search of a publisher. Writing a book was easy, especially when I had most of the research material on my bookshelves and in journals.

A new calendar page turned after Halloween. November 1, 2, 3, and 4 slinked by with emergencies and last minute fussing on different projects. DOG WALKED bulked up to twenty pages with the addition of title page, copyright page, and order information. Work avoidance took the place of writing. I dusted and swept, scrubbed the bathroom floor, darned the worn heel of a favorite pair of socks, cooked a giant pot of ratatouille, washed the windows, and trimmed pesky nose hairs. The closest I came to the manuscript was dotting the apartment with Post-It notes: “Bombazine belongs with Dickens, not us contemporaries.” “What about cross-collateralization?” “Describe, describe, describe.” “Coffee important, cigarettes too.” I was doomed.

NEXT: How Writing is Written

By Way of Introduction


Under “Trade Paperbacks: Literary Criticism & Essays” in the January 23, 2006 issue of Publishers Weekly sits this listing:
THE DOG WALKED DOWN THE STREET (May, $13.95) by Sal Glynn is advice about honing writing skills from a so-called “book midwife.”

Though glad to be in the PW pages, I found the “so-called” and the quotes framing “book midwife” to be disconcerting. This is a legitimate publishing term, not a scam, hustle, or euphemism for the chronically unemployed. Page through Google under “book midwife” and you will find Mindy Gibbins-Klein’s polished Web site, Kathleen Barnes, former HarperCollins senior editor Caroline Pincus, Margot Silk Forrest, and Lisa Alpine. Their clients have gone on to sign with agents and publishers.

Book midwives come from published writers, teachers, and the publishing profession. When they give advice, they know what they are talking about. Each read A. Scott Berg’s MAX PERKINS: EDITOR OF GENIUS (NY: Dutton, 1978) at an impressionable age and have taken on the career of midwife as a holy cause. Midwives have a passion for books rivaled only by bibliophiles with private incomes. The midwife provides support and encouragement to people who want to write, along with critiques and advice. There are also services like proposal writing, research, editing, or in cases of dire need, ghostwriting. The book remains the writer’s accomplishment.

Publishing companies want manuscripts they can send immediately to production on account of the editors are overworked and forced to spend time fretting over profit and loss statements instead of making books. Sure, publishing is a business, but the business side is concerned with increasing profit margins and not the correct use of a subordinate clause. The number of editorial staff has been cut to bare essentials and the job of developing new writers has gone to agents. These shortcomings have made many publishing professionals flee from the frustration of being in-house to the open air of freelancing. During a performance review, a former employer told me, “You’re spending too much time with the writers. Shape up or we’ll find someone else.” I packed my desk and wrote the want ad for a new editor, an MBA who could read without their lips moving. The applicants were few.

First-time and even veteran writers need an editor. A freelance editor will edit hard or soft depending on the needs of the manuscript; the manuscript goes to them and is sent back heavy with Post-It notes and a letter detailing problem areas. A copyeditor makes sure grammar is correct; the manuscript goes to them and is sent back with heavily marked pages. A proofreader looks at spelling; the manuscript goes to them and is sent back with lightly marked pages. None provide the extra attention and teaching some writers need to realize a finished, publishable manuscript.

You are walking down the street, the cell phone charging at home, and not a thought in your head except left, right, left, right, to keep your feet moving. A bronze Acura pulls up to the corner where you are waiting for the stoplight to change color. In the front seat of the car is an older Asian couple, stoic and looking ahead instead of at each other. Sitting in the back seat is a young woman weeping. “Why?” tumbles along your synapses. Who are these people, where have they come from, and what is the woman crying about? A story starts to form in your imagination with scenes, characters, and action. You have begun to write. When you finish the first draft and read enough on writing for complete confusion, the questions nag at you about what to do next. Is this any good or does it suck? What is publishing like? Where can I find a honest agent? Now is the time to call the book midwife, and pick one who specializes in your field. They will be your champion, tell you when you are right and wrong, and help you write your best.

In May 2006, Cypress House will release my first book, THE DOG WALKED DOWN THE STREET: A COMMONPLACE BOOK FOR WRITERS WHO WANT TO PUBLISH ($13.95 and buy from an independent bookstore, damn it!). A high-powered publishing executive once explained the acquisition process as a coin-toss on whether the marketplace would welcome the proposed book, followed by a brief tug at remaining ethics to decide if the book was worth killing trees. THE DOG WALKED is printed on post-consumer paper so the tree-killing question has been answered. We'll see about the marketplace.

What follows is the story about how the book has progressed from idea to shelf. No prisoners will be taken and none offered. Stay tuned.