Writing in the Sun

In the Hands of an Agent

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 14:32:00 +0000

Now that I’m done doing my happy dance (it lasted a few days), I can report that the first draft is done, bound and in the hands of an agent. Whether or not he wants to be my agent is what we’re going to learn – along with whether or not he thinks there’s a chance of anyone representing this book, ever.

It’s like we’re climbing Everest (and this is as close to that as I’ll ever get): First you have to book the flight and buy the parka. That’s like writing the book. I did that. Then you have to climb a mere 17,000 feet to make it to Base camp 1. That’s like finding an agent who will give you the time of day. That’s where I am right now and I’m extremely grateful to the Sherpas who have made my trek a little easier.

Once you’re successfully at Base Camp 1, there’s only 12,000 more of the most treacherous and steep feet on the planet to go and you’ve arrived. Just like finding a publisher willing to print and distribute the book. That’s a hike I hope to face soon – at least metaphorically.

And so we’re off. Hopefully pictures from the summit won’t be too long in coming.

Speed Bump Gets It All Too Right

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 14:28:00 +0000

If you missed this morning's Speed Bump by Dave Coverly, then go back and read the comics' pages in your newspaper and shake your head slowly at how right Coverly is.

Then let me know if I should add that sign to the cover of my book.

Chapter 27, Phil Schaap & Lester Young

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 22:18:00 +0000

Lester Young is a god and no one is so fit to jockey his records onto the turntable as Phil Schaap at WKCR, 89.9 New York.

I'm outing myself as a Phil Schaap fan as I've been listening to him pretty much non-stop lately while he's been celebrating what would have been Lester Young's 100th birthday. Lester Young is, of course, one of the three great tenor saxophonists the world has known (the other two are Coleman Hawkins and John Coltrane). And while I'm more of an alto man myself (it's my first instrument), I have to acknowledge the amazing passion that fed Young's style, voice and creativity. At the same time, I have to say that Phil Schaap's passion and knowledge are almost as inspiring.

It's been a day of listening to some of the best recorded jazz presented by arguably the best jazz DJ to ever be on the airwaves. And I've been dealing with this inspiration and beauty and talent while working on a chapter with the working title "Keep Needling". All this beauty has been channeled into great advice like "The angrier your opponent gets, the better off you are."

If Phil Schaap ever finds out about this, I wonder if he'll find a way to block my radio from listening to him.

I Used to Write Titles First

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 16:23:00 +0000

Always, always, always – I used to write titles first. Some of the worst songs I ever wrote when I was 10 were a result of some great (I thought) and forced (in retrospect) titles. Equally, some of the best papers I wrote in college began their lives as a title, a single unifying idea that tied my approach together in some pithy way. When I started getting paid to write, I kept that basic strategy – come up with a good title and the piece writes itself.

I had to think about titles last night while I was watching an old Harold Lloyd movie, Girl Shy. In it, Lloyd is writing a book about dating (something his character had never done) and makes up his strategic insights as he goes along. He gave it the title “How to Make Love” (using the old, less X-rated sense of the term). The publisher treats it as a joke, and renames it “The Boob’s Diary”. Smart move, as it never would have sold as a serious advice book and the funny name didn’t sound quite so odd back in 1924.

I started my book with a title in mind, but I no longer like it, so I’m wondering if I’m more like my ten year-old self again or more the Harold Lloyd type. I'm not sure which answer I'd prefer, either.

I’m putting together a list of titles for a future post. Have one to add? Just let me know and I’ll post yours right along with mine and see what the world has to say.

Never Edit on Drugs

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 00:33:00 +0000

Growing up, there were certain life rules I learned from books, movies and my brothers. "Nerts to you" was, I believe, one of my brother's primary rules, but more universal ones came from other sources to round out his Zen sensibilities.

"Never go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line" springs to mind.
So does "Never get into a land war in Asia."
And who could ever forget "Never tell Han Solo the odds"?

Sadly missing from that list was, until today, "never edit your work while taking painkillers."

Just over a week ago, I had foot surgery. Once I was conscious enough to sit up and write, I made sure I didn't. Writing while in a post-operative daze didn't seem like a good idea. But I didn't want to hang out in bed and do nothing, so I decided I'd edit the 19 chapters I have that I'm pretty satisfied with.

Big mistake. I'm still taking painkillers, but fewer, and a review of how I changed things reveals just how drug-addled my brain has been for the last 10 days.

So if "never edit while taking painkillers" wasn't on your list of life's rules yet, take my advice and add it on now. You'll thank me later.

Writing.org - A Great Writer's Resource

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 17:35:00 +0000

On the off chance you're a writer, especially if you're looking to become a first-time author, check out Writing.org. It's a great resource for writers and very no-nonsense.

Some of their articles are very basic and well-suited to beginners, while others are more for writers ready to find an agent or a publisher and walk you through those processes in a clear, concise manner.

If you're even further along the process, you won't want to sign a contract until you've read their articles on that process. I get a little OCD about these things, so I read every article on the site and learned a ton.

In short, unless you're Stephen King, Writing.org is a good place for you to learn something you should know about writing and getting published.

Writing Goals for 2009

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 14:13:00 +0000

I’ve been asked what it is I want to accomplish with this book and this blog, so if you’ve been asking yourself (or me) the same thing, here’s my 2009 to-do list:

Read the book.
I’ve always wanted to read this book, that’s why I’m writing it. So I want to finish it and read it, not for editing purposes or tweaking, but actually sit down with it and read it. I hope I like it.

Prepare the packet.
I’ve got scads of information on what makes a good book proposal and even more material to put in mine. I want to finish that this calendar year and send it out.

Identify several publishers and agents.
I have some idea of who would actually publish this, but I need to take the time to approach them properly and that means reaching out to agents who might represent me, too.

Get two rejections from publishers and agents, each.
Getting rejected is a given. It’s like being single when you don't want to be. You need to flirt with a lot of publishers and agents in order to find one willing to spend some time with you, and then it takes even longer to find one you want to spend some quality time with. But getting rejected would mean I’ve accomplished my other goals, so it’s a good thing. This is progress.

This would make 2009 a good year. Achieving anything beyond these goals would be the malt powder on the hot fudge sundae of my project. And if you don't know what I mean by that, then it's not summer where you are right now.

This Silence Brought to You by Chapter 6

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 00:23:00 +0000

It’s been a bit since I last wrote an update, and for that we all have Chapter 6 to thank. Chapter 6 has turned into a monster. I’ve written and rewritten it more times than I care to remember.

My notes for Chapter 6 consist of four words and a fragment of a sentence, so you wouldn’t think it would be that big a deal to wrangle it into a digestible package. It swelled in its first draft to 10 pages. Then it shrank to four. Then it shrank back to my original notes for a whole new swing. Right now, it’s hovering around three pages and that’s about right. By contrast, my average first draft chapter length is one and a half pages. Each chapter is necessarily brief.

The whole thing reminds me of the line Blaise Pascal wrote in Provincial Letters (and often attributed to Mark Twain, Winston Churchill or even Pearl Buck for some reason) in which he apologized “I have made this letter longer than usual, only because I have not had the time to make it shorter.”

I have the time to make Chapter 6 short, but it took time away from this.

Oops! The Power of a Typo (Or, How to Distract Yourself from the Task at Hand)

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 19:18:00 +0000

It’s amazing where a typo can lead you. In both Kant and Schopenhauer, I read a bit about “akromatisch” (sic) learning. As opposed to the Socratic method of learning (learning by question and answer), there's this other concept of “achromatic” learning, which means learning on your own. Taken literally, achromatic means "colorless". I can’t tell you how many truly fascinating conversations I had about that distinction. It wasn’t really suitable for the book - it’s not nearly funny enough for what I want to do, but it was a very enriching thought.

That is, it was until yesterday, when I found the original Greek text by Aristotle that they were both quoting and noticed that, in Greek, it’s "acroamatic", which means “communicated orally”, from the Greek “to hear”. I had spent two weeks being fascinated by a typo.

Without that second A, the meaning was a whole lot less interesting. I read and write to experience new ideas, and it would have been a truly enriching intellectual sidetrack into the nature of learning and pedagogy if the term had really been “colorless”. But it just means learning on your own.

Strange how easy it is to head down a dead end. I guess that’s one of the hazards of dealing with secondary texts and, well, 19th century German, too.

I Don’t Know What’s So Great About Originality

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 13:19:00 +0000

When I was in college, my bachelor's thesis forum advisor shocked us one day when he announced, "I don't know what's so great about originality."

At the time, we all thought he was crazy. As young academics at the University of Chicago with something to prove, we were hell-bent on being the newest, best, most original thing out there. But when we all stopped laughing, we realized that what he was actually saying was that it's more important how you exploit the path you're on than if you're blazing that trail.

I’m reminded of that now because I’m not the first one to write on this subject and there are books on a similar topic that use some of the same sources. The path they took, however, is not the one I’m on.

No one else has tried to make the same point in a way that people will actually read, aimed at everyone who is interested in politics, on a debate team, heading to a good college, entering law school or about to go on a talk show.

This subject can be very dry if your tongue inadvertently slips out of your cheek. Thankfully, mine is permanently rooted there.

An original approach? You bet. But what I’m writing about is tried and true. To heck with originality.

The Story So Far

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 15:32:00 +0000

I came up with the idea for this book at least 15 years ago. It’s one of those things I’ve been meaning to get to but never had time to because of other projects. And by "other" I mean projects that I got paid to work on.

Over the years, I've collected notes and texts to research, chased down stray ideas and found and translated an original unpublished 19th century German manuscript by Schopenhauer. And I know what you're thinking: "That's not funny. It actually sounds pretty dry." Well, part of the reason it took so long was that it was hard to stay awake.

Thankfully, the grunt work of research is done and I'm actually writing now about how to argue and not be proven wrong. You can actually do it, but you have to learn how. The trick is, you actually have to want to learn how. That's why I'm making this short, funny and full of examples using real conversations you're likely to find yourself in (if you're me). Writing it to be funny is what will make this book a great graduation present, as opposed to those original texts.

But really, there are plenty of people who want to prove they're right. Many of them are married, probably all of them have mothers, and some of them are lawyers, while some are going on the Daily Show, Colbert Report or Meet the Press, and some just enjoy being difficult. Last I checked, that makes my potential audience everyone on the planet.

No Argument? Where??

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 19:06:00 +0000

It pays to have friends in high places. You’ll remember Larry Hughes as the man who encouraged me to write this blog. Well, now he’s gone a step further and is encouraging other people to actually read my blog.

Apparently he’s worried that, if things don't go well, I might employ the arguing tactics I’m writing about against him.

While I’m not opposed to using fear and intimidation to drive interest in and, eventually, sales of my book, Larry needn’t worry. I’m not going to argue with him. Yet.

Thanks, Larry!

There I Go Again Listening

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 17:45:00 +0000

Most of what I’ve written in this blog so far doesn’t have a lot to do with what I go through every day to try to get this book done. There are all sorts of issues that every writer faces: finding the time, chasing a good idea, treating a spare time project as a job, not to mention story development, character arcs, creating a hook and making sure it sticks, and the like. Even for a bit of non-fiction like what I’m writing, those concepts are important and can’t be neglected. After all, even a non-fiction book ought to be a page-turner.

Some of the best advice I’ve received regarding the process of writing came from a friend who recently published her third novel, Laurie Graff. I went to a reading that Laurie gave at her local book store in Manhattan when her latest book, The Shiksa Syndrome, arrived on the shelves.

In between reading excerpts from her (really funny) book, Laurie talked about her process. A book she found invaluable and highly recommends is How to Write a Movie in 21 Days by Viki King. It’s a great guide to the craft of developing your story and even though my book, since it's non-fiction, doesn’t really have a plot to develop, the routine and discipline, as well as the insight, it provides are well worth any writer’s while.

I highly recommend both Laurie’s book and Viki King’s, the former for a good read, the latter for good insight into honing the craft of writing.

Writing, Cooking & the Last Sentence

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 14:29:00 +0000

Lots of people are good at writing just like lots of people cook well. But just because you can do something well doesn’t mean you can do it professionally. To cook or write professionally, you have to distance yourself from the art and immerse yourself in the craft. You need to be willing to dice four dozen onions or rewrite one stinking page a dozen times without griping (too much). And you certainly can't freeze up because you're not in the mood to produce.

I once read that writer’s block is an amateur’s problem. I have to agree. If you write for a living, as I do in my full-time job as a marketer, you have to produce every day. There’s no room for block.

Most of what I write every day is marketing copy. I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve come to realize that sometimes I’m working with a bad idea and what I’m producing is, therefore, crap. So I’ll do one of two things: I’ll either rethink the givens of my approach (throwing establishing ideas out can be very liberating) or work on a different part of the text.

If I really do feel stuck and can't dodge the bullet, I leap ahead and write the last sentence of the paragraph or chapter I'm working on. It gives me something to chase – like keeping your pace up while on a long road trip by chasing the car in front of you. If you have something to chase, you 're compelled to move forward. It’s like the Taoist teaching that you pursue that which retreats from you.

I just interrupted my writing to catch up on GalleyCat's recaps of the BEA and, interestingly, while on a panel there, John Irving stated that he writes the last sentence of his books first, then works backwards. It's nice to know I'm in good company.

Artie & Me: The Philosopher’s Flipside

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Sun, 31 May 2009 20:26:00 +0000

I know you’ve been asking yourself this question just like I’ve been: How come no one ever thought to make 19th century German philosophy funny?

Well, ok, no one except Monty Python ever thought to. But the philosophers themselves are pretty sarcastic and witty, but they buried their bluntness in their footnotes, knowing that most people don’t ever read them. Footnotes are like a philosopher’s flipside: Everyone buys the single to side A - no one listens to the song on the flipside - so artists would often throw any kind of half-produced crap on there. Philosophers used the same lack of attention given flipsides and footnotes to their advantage to talk trash about their professional opponents. And a lot of it is really pretty funny.

Now I’m not saying Arthur Schopenhauer is the 19th century’s answer to Arte Johnson, and Kant was no Buck Henry, but these guys are funny and they’ve written a lot about the art of arguing (as have notoriously unfunny authors like Aristotle, Seneca and Machiavelli). So why not take what they did and make it enjoyable? Why aren’t there a million books like this?

I once read that George Harrison produced Monty Python’s Life of Brian because he realized that if he didn’t make it happen, he’d never get to see it. I’m learning my lesson from Beatle George and writing the book I want to read because if I don’t, no one else will.

Turning Artie Schopenhauer and the sock-it-to-me philosophers into something readable and saleable isn’t an easy job, but if I don’t do it, it seems no one will.

For the Record...

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Fri, 29 May 2009 18:52:00 +0000

Stephen Colbert is a natural at arguing. I wasn't implying he’s going to have to read my book to be a good arguer. I’m just saying anyone who reads my book will know how to argue as well as he does.

That said, if you read my book and aren’t as popular or famous, or even as good at arguing as Colbert, let me just say now that it’s not my fault. The man’s a natural.

What’s the Big Idea?

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Thu, 28 May 2009 17:23:00 +0000

If you know Dan - or me, for that matter - you might be asking yourself, “Why did Dan say that about this book and why did you, Will, listen to him?!?” (Yes, if you know either of us, that thought has to be met with some incredulity. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you didn’t read my last post.)

When I was a kid, my mom had a book on her mantle called “The Portable Curmudgeon.” It was basically a pocket-sized book filled with quotes by Mencken and Groucho Marx. While I was busy inhaling the content, I realized how much a curmudgeon is what I was born to be (though my portability can’t compete with the book’s). If I hadn’t been before that moment, after I read that book, I became argumentative, though I like to think I’m argumentative in a good way.

The reason for my curmudgeonry is simple: so many people are so bad at so many fundamental aspects of life. My old secretary and comrade in arms against stupidity, Felecia, used to tell me that I’m a typical Virgo – I have to argue against stupidity to appease my perfectionism. My mother used to tell me I just don’t suffer fools gladly. Either way, I have often found myself arguing with people about a better way to do things, and the friends I count as close are people who enjoy arguing just as much as I do – about anything and everything we can find. For us, it’s a sport.

So when Dan said to me, “Of all the books in the world, you need to write one on arguing first”, I realized he saw how much my big idea for this book was tied to my identity. It may also be self-serving: if more people know how to argue well, maybe I’ll argue less. It could happen.

So there you have it. Every book needs one big idea. Mine is “teach people how to argue”. My goal is to make it fun to read so that, while you’re sitting there watching Stephen Colbert or listening to some pundit on the radio, you can leap out of your seat and yell, “Hey! Stephen just used method 37!”

Clearly, I dream big.

Why Me?

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Wed, 27 May 2009 14:32:00 +0000

While we were in college, my friend Geoffrey asked me, “How many books do you already have in your head?” At the time the answer was eight. Now, mercifully, my brain has boiled it down (for now) to two. And while talking to my friend Dan about those two not long ago, he told me that I had to write this one first, and here we are.

Who says I don’t pay attention to what people say? Clearly, I’ve done so twice in 20 years (see my earlier post for the other example). And that, right there, is why I’m a good writer: I don’t really like people.

Years ago, I had an interview for a “chief editorial writer” for a major international law firm. I was meeting with one of the role’s supervisors and he told me about how they wanted to find a “team player” who would get along with everyone. I couldn’t hold back a chuckle. When he cocked his eyebrow at me, I told him that writers tend to be solitary creatures who dive up for information (a good one knows how to conduct a good interview), then withdraw. A good writer knows how to listen to advice, too, but “team player” rarely describes one. I didn’t get the job.

But aside from being a curmudgeon, the reason I think this book has a chance of being published with my name on it is because of everything I’ve written that doesn’t have my name on it. Things I’ve written have been published in the New York Times, the International Herald Tribune, the London Times, Die Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, Die Sueddeutsche Zeitung, and by the University of Chicago Press, Bertelsmann and - well you get the picture. I’ve ghostwritten for a lot of people, many of whom have immediate name recognition and their names have landed contracts with major publishers. I supplied a lot of the content, so I know my stuff sells with other people’s names on it. It’s time to see how it does with my own name.

What’s in a Name?

noreply@blogger.com (William Scheckel) — Sun, 24 May 2009 14:46:00 +0000

As a title, "Writing in the Sun" has a double meaning that you should be let in on. The first is literal – I’m writing a book, and now that the weather is nice and I’m making good progress, I’ve set up a comfortable deck chair on our sunny welcome-mat of a front yard and work on it, and this blog, there.

The second is a metaphoric meaning that came about as a result of my correspondence with Larry Hughe s. Larry has been a book publicist for over 20 years, so seeking his opinion was a good idea, even if it did make me feel like I was asking him to work on his day off.

Larry’s path crossed mine a few months ago when we both did a segment for Fox & Friends on how unemployment affects fathers, entitled “Taking it Like a Man.” Larry took it more like a man than I did, I guess, so they used his picture for the video on their site. Anyway, when I was thinking about starting this blog, he was kind enough to give me the advice that “putting it out there is better than hiding it under the proverbial bushel basket.” So here we are.

They say sunlight is the best disinfectant. Let’s see if that applies to writing this book, too.