The final cover

In flurry of last minute activity, the cover has been finalised, the shoutline written, researched and approved, thank yous & dedications rushed through and packs for the book reps put together. Don't let anyone tell you that the book industry can't move fast when it wants to. So far so good with Harper Collins running ABC books. I get the sense that there's more people involved and active and I think there will be a more direct relationship with the reps. There will be for me as I've engineering meeting one Sydney rep for lunch next week. I plan to bribe shamelessly with alcohol.

Here's the final version of the cover. I like it, but when it's finalised I get nervous. It's easy to absolutely love the first versions because you know there's time and space for improvement, but when the invigilator calls 'pens down' that's it. GULP.

And the winner is...

Thank you to everyone who voted on the cover, left comments and gave me opinions on facebook. It was fantastic and very useful. I also canvassed the opinions of over 400 school children at Waitara Public School along with several young friends. Their favourite was No1, with No 3 not very far behind. Number 2 was a distant 3rd. Of course this clashes with the preference on here and at the publishers for Number 2.

I did like Number 2 but pointed out to the publishers that there were similarities to The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. The typeface is virtually the same, the 3-part title-in-the-middle structure and the outline figure are quite familiar. I'm hoping my book will also be featuring "Winner Whitbread Book of the Year" on the cover.
The 'covers committee' at Harper Collins (yes they have a committee!) has now suggested going for Cover 3 with the tomato sauce to be more of a splodge and less of a Dexter-esque blood pour. The pills will be made to look more like capsules than the latest ecstasy tablet. I'm happy with this.

Judging a book by its cover
I've always maintained that this is perfectly possible and if you can't, something has gone wrong. I tested the case with one group of kids at Waitara. I showed them the covers without saying anything about the book and asked them what it was about. They said it was aimed at boys. Most said aged between 8 and 12, some said a bit younger, others older. They all agreed it was a comedy but was a little bit scary too. The book was about there being poison in food or about a boy who hated Tomato Sauce. One young boy developed quite an interesting plot about a boy who thought all the food he was given has something wrong with it and was scared of eating.

I could see how they could tell this from the covers. However they went on to say the book was set mainly in one place in Australia and it didn't move around very much. They were spot on, but I still can't see how they worked that out from the covers. Quite brilliant.

Manuscript Complete
I have completely finished writing the book with the final manuscript now submitted. I had a strange block on the final sentence. It just needed tidying up to make it clearer but I couldn't do it! It took me over 24 hours to fix. Talk about coming a cropper at the final hurdle. The last word is 'do'.

VOTE FOR THE COVER

One of the most exiting moments in releasing a book has arrived - the first concepts for the cover. When asked what I wanted on the cover of The Trouble With Sauce, I said ‘a splodge of tomato sauce on a school book’ so I’m pretty impressed with how the designer has run with that. Here are the three options. You can cast your vote in the column on the right. Please also leave feedback by clicking on 'comments' just under this post. ‘I like 3 but not the font’, ‘it looks like blood’, ‘They’re all a bit....’ or whatever you think.

Vote early! Vote often!

COVER 1


COVER 2


COVER 3

Let’s get pompous

In the many entertaining bits of bad writing I come across, pomposity is all too rare. It’s sadly lacking in the modern world. I do think it’s the most refined way to be up yourself and brash arrogant idiots would do well to focus on their pomposity. Santa Sabina College in Strathfield, Sydney might be a great place to learn, if their ‘Director of Human Resources,’ is anything to go by.
A friend recently submitted his resumé as a casual teacher for the school. Most schools simply call you when needed, some text or email to acknowledge your contact. Santa Sabina sent him this in the post. It’s on a stiff textured card. Look at the gorgeous fake hand-writing font, isn’t it tasteful? I can just see the Royal Doulton saucer on the wooden desk and the hand holding the cup with the little finger delicately poised out.
Does a school really need a ‘Director of Human Resources’? And if this director is so important why is she (I’m just guessing gender here, feel free to challenge) sending out cards saying she has passed someone’s details to herself. The language is delicious, ‘if a situation arises where your particular qualifications may be appropriate.’ It’s a school and my friend’s a teacher, what more appropriate qualification is there? He’s not a bricklayer asking for a job in knicker factory.

In the meantime: The Slap

I have to admit I don’t often read contemporary Australian fiction. This is particularly embarrassing at writers’ festivals when I have to keep answering ‘No’ to questions starting with ‘Have you read...’ Sadly I never get asked if I’ve read obscure 18th century gothic novels like The Mysteries of Udolpho when I could answer positively. It’s especially embarrassing when it comes to award winners. However I can answer ‘YES!’ to “Have you read The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas” and I even read it before it won the Commonwealth Writers Prize. I can also enthuse about it without reservation - it’s a brilliant book. A group of family and friends are gathered at a barbecue. You know from the cover that someone is going to slap a child and all hell will break loose. What’s great is that you just don’t know who right until the moment it occurs. It’s lovely piece of suspense. As the story of the slap’s aftermath progresses the author moves from one character’s perspective to another. I love that fact that Tsiolkas draws you into each of these characters. Even the ones that made me groan with annoyance when I discovered we were following them seduced me and became fascinating people I didn’t want to leave. It’s a gripping portrayal of contemporary Australia centred on a Greek family and the various people around them. For overseas readers who want to insight into a contemporary society completely different to one portrayed in soaps, news and Baz Luhrman TV ads, this will be an eye-opener. For Australians the book challenges our own prejudices - and not simply in terms of whether you think the slap is justified. That is, quite literally, just the beginning.

Next draft submitted

OK I have to admit after the paralysis of the feedback, I am very happy with the net result of the changes to The Trouble with Sauce: the lead have more depth and my evil headmaster is now a much more interesting character which readers might relate to in a strange way. It’s one of the magical things about writing and is that you can go in and change something early on in the book and then suddenly something else further along the track quite unrelated suddenly makes a lot more sense - it’s as if the new section earlier on was always meant to be there.

I did give my editor some feedback on the feedback - in a positive way, which he was grateful for. So yes I did get feedback on the feedback on feedback.

Yikes, paralysis!

I guess it's like waking up to find out that your legs don't work. I got the feedback from the editor on The Trouble with Sauce and found out my brain/finger combination didn't work. I was right, he did HATE it. The feedback was so comprehensive in its list of faults (the plus side could have been written bus ticket) that I couldn't look at the book for over 2 weeks. I felt like sending the advance back and not bothering. It's a new experience for me. Normally the editor's feedback would have jumping out of my bed, determined to make the changes required to the book. With this, every time I swung my legs to the edge of the bed, they simply refused to walk. I knew they could walk. I knew they could run and jump, but like the most cliched soap opera, it was not the flesh that was weak but the mind. And by the way, I should know about cliched soap opera, the editor asked if I had been writing soap (Yes it was that bad!).

However after a week of miserable silence followed by a week of bitching, moaning and declaring I would never walk again I finally managed it. No, I didn't leap out of my wheelchair to rescue a small child in danger but I did manage to sort the wheat from the chaff in the feedback, see the many valid points that were made, and discard those I disagreed with.

I am walking freely through the text now and very happy with results so far. The only problem is, how do you tell your editor nicely you think their communication skills need some work? Can I give feedback on feedback? Would I then get feedback on my feedback on the feedback? Would it ever end?

It's been sent off

I’ve submitted the manuscript The Trouble with Sauce.  It sat ready for a few days, I’ve taken it as far as it can go without outside feedback, but something was holding me back, I’ve been really nervous about sending this one off.  There are three possible reasons for this.

1) It’s just not good enough

Part of me thinks it doesn’t work, but I couldn’t actually say why. I can’t pinpoint anything and say that’s wrong. The plot is fun and the characters are engaging. When I go through it, each chapter works, it’s not too long, it progresses the story, develops the characters, entertains and usually ends with a reason to start the next chapter and yet, I’m unsure.

2) It’s my baby

When I send the email with the text to the ABC, it’s also the point where it stops being my baby and becomes a product to be packaged, altered, stuffed in boxes and put out on shelves. It becomes a thing that has to sell, rather than the progeny of my imagination.

3) It means I have to start on ‘the big one’

When this book goes off that means it’s time for me to start on the next adult one, the one where I actually try to be a good writer instead of mildly entertaining one. That’s pretty scary. I know the time is coming, paragraphs, chapters and ideas pop into my head. Like a kettle about to boil, things are rising with increasing speed to the surface. Time to pour soon. That in itself is challenging and reason enough not to send off Trouble.

So which is it?  Much as I would like to be about clinging onto babies, it’s down to options 1 and 3 with option 1 being the strongest. 

My editor said he would try to get back to me the next day. I thought that was ambitious. It’s now a week later and I’m fearing the worst. If the email response starts with a line about what he ‘did’ enjoy about the book, I know I’m doomed to paragraphs of what didn’t work. If on the other hand he kicks of with ‘there’s still some work to do,’ or ‘there’s a few bits need tidying up’ I know I’m OK, and the inevitable ‘but’ will be a positive one.

It’s not brain surgery, but it’s close

One of the lovely things about writing books, and especially children’s books, is the enormous good will you receive from virtually everyone. I can think of few other professions where you can ask for help and it is so eagerly given. Imagine an accountant coming to you, asking for some help in putting together their figures - short shrift I would imagine. Not as a writer. For a scene in The Trouble with Sauce I needed some technical information on brain surgery: parts of the brain and implements used, so I turned to Adam, a psychiatrist friend. His eagerness to help was a treat: he did some research and even consulted his colleagues at the hospital where he works. They were all fascinated and equally enthusiastic. On being given the outline of the plot, the child psychiatric specialist gave it a thumbs up in appealing to boys.

The net result was sitting with Adam in the cafe beside the El Alamein fountain in Kings Cross being presented with a delicious array of new words. We giggled over the names of the implements: Raney Clip, Cottoniod Sponges and the splendid Caspar Vertebral Body Distractor. What fun I could have with a ‘body distractor’! It sounds like a surgical belly dancer who seductively arouses and distracts the body while the brain is hacked into. There is also a host of different ‘ronguers’: pituitary, Ruskin (a rhyming rongeur perhaps?) and trimline. However, the perfect implement for Trouble was the wonderfully descriptive Brain Retractor. It was even more thrilling when I looked up pictures of it. (See below). 

I was like a child in a toy shop who thinks he knows all the toys there were, suddenly then discovers a whole new section to play with.

Final breakthrough achieved

The point when you first reach the end of novel you’re writing is like breakthrough on a tunnel. It may just be dirty hole that lets through light but at least now you can walk through from end to end. The start of the tunnel is in much better shape than the end. The tunnel boring machine that is my mind’s imagination has chugged along at its lumbering pace, breaking a few cutting heads on the way. At the rear, the editing and polishing side of the mind works much faster and has almost caught up.

...and even a title!

I have achieved breakthrough on The Trouble with Sauce (yes I have finally decided on a name...I think) it’s a significant moment: the book now exists, it is a physical thing in the real world. Unfortunately the tunnel that is my book is far too long. It’s 30,000 words and it needs to be 25,000. The tunnel has come out at the right place but obviously there are a few more twist and turns than there should be if readers are to charge through at the required pace.

I’m now in the ‘it’s not good enough’ worrying stage. I run up and down my tunnel polishing, clarifying and adding enriching detail, all the while trying to reduce its length. 

I think I’m more concerned about how the editors will receive this book than any previous book. It might be because nobody else had read it. I may have gone completely off the quirky scale, the characters may not be defined enough. The list of things that I think need to be better grows every time I look at it. This could be a good thing. It could be a commitment to quality (...mmm I think I must still be in advertising mode with that phrase) but a nagging doubt remains.

Future decided...sort of

It’s finally been revealed that ABC Books will now be a partnership between ABC and Harper Collins after nearly a year of negotiations. Belinda at the ABC says this has good potential for authors. I will have to hope they don’t opt for a cull on the quirkier, not so stellar sales end of the writing roster. I got a good sense of position on the ‘importance scale’ with the announcement. ‘Key authors’ were phoned directly to be reassured about their contracts. The rest were emailed on the day of the announcement. I didn’t get the call. I didn’t even get the email! How lowly is that? This blog is rapidly becoming the literary equivalent of ‘My Life on the D List’.

Still I have a contract, I’ve been paid my advance and work is steaming ahead on the cover. However uncertain the future for authors (key or otherwise) is, the employees at ABC Books are doing it tougher. They know they don’t have jobs at the ABC after May, but are yet to find out if they have jobs at Harper Collins. Nice.