Coming To Terms With The Missed Opportunities

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


By Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

I’d forgotten this feeling: two months out from publication, and the doors are starting to close. It’s silly, isn’t it, to think that two months before a book comes out, it can already feel like doors are closing, but the truth is, all the long lead magazines have shut their doors on their May issues. That’s just one small example, and of course, there are plenty of other ways for the word to get out about Bittersweet and other books like it. But that truth speaks to this next phase in the book publication process- the moment when you move from the dreamy sense of endless possibilities to the reality of what’s actually going to happen.

I recently read about a study somewhere that measured peoples’ happiness levels when they were planning a vacation, on a vacation, and then returned home from the vacation. You know when their seratonin levels were highest? In the planning phase. Even higher than their levels when they were on the actual vacation (and don’t get me started on how major their seratonin dips were when they got back home)!

This is a perfect framework to think about launching a book. It’s why I’m already working on my next book (because I know that I’m going to have to wake up in June and have something to look forward to). It’s why I’ve had so much fun over the course of this last year (planning, scheming, dreaming, working). And it’s why this particular phase of the game- the “vacation” itself- is so uncomfortable.

Because there are going to be missed opportunities- that’s just a reality. There are going to be friends who work at a magazine who you overlooked on your galley list, and then email you saying, “oh no! I should have made sure you sent me a galley! Now the May issue is closed!” (a paraphrase, yes, but that was the hard truth I faced when opening my email this morning). Of course that’s my responsibility. I should have doublechecked that my friend was on that list, and I just plain didn’t, and I spent a couple hours this morning feeling grumpy with myself and disappointed and generally moody. Walking around grumbling and forgetting about all the good stuff that is already coming my way.

And then I had to give myself a good dose of: there will be missed opportunities. You’ll forget something. You’ll overlook it because you’re human. That’s okay. Have a cup of tea, figure out two or three things you still have the power to do, and move on.

Empathy, Education, and What It Means To Truly Create a Body Of Work That You Are Proud Of

Today I want to talk about a part of my work that I rarely discuss: the consulting I do with organizations outside of publishing. Over the years, I have become convinced that I can better serve writers if I understand more broadly what works in terms of sharing stories and engaging a community beyond the context of books.

How can educational institutions better connect with the communities they serve? And what can writers and creative entrepreneurs learn from that? These are questions I have been considering through work I have been doing for three organizations – all three of whom are focused on EDUCATION, not publishing. I have had the pleasure of doing work with these fine folks so far in 2014:

  1. PS 123, a public school in Harlem, NY
  2. Sesame Workshop, a non-profit who is behind Sesame Street
  3. Knowledge Universe, a private company focused on early childhood education, most prominently through their KinderCare centers.

Since a lot of my work is private and even proprietary to these organizations, I won’t go into too much detail about each organization. Rather, I will share insights as to what I feel writers and creative professionals can learn from the type of work I do with these and other organization.

Three big things to discuss:

ALL PROCESSES ARE HUMAN PROCESSES

Too often, people ask for “best practices” or a strategy, ignoring the most important element of what it means to share a story and engage a community: PEOPLE. So, for an author, this could be a marking plan or book launch strategy. For an organization, it can be how they craft content that engages their ideal audience in a meaningful way, and leads to larger goals around growth or revenue.

How often in your career have you seen a company you work for or with spend loads of time and resources crafting this perfect plan for growth, only to fail in adequately:

  • Providing the human resources needed to support it.
  • Communicating that plan to the correct people within the organization and train them on how to integrate this plan with their other responsibilities.
  • Understanding the needs and goals of their partners in the process – so you hit stumbling blocks before you even reach your audience.
  • Consider the behaviors of the folks they intend to reach. Perhaps this was a failure to consider where they are, or maybe it was misjudgment in terms of the messaging that would engage them.

In my career I have seen the behind the scenes process of organizations relaunching website fail again and again. In some cases, these were year-long projects costing (and I’m not kidding) more than a million dollars, and thousands of hours of employee time to create. And regardless of this resource expenditure, the website failed to meet basic needs of their ideal audience.

Of course, I have seen this happen with individuals as well – folks who spend six months designing their “perfect” author website, only to feel a profound sense of confusion when it does zero to connect with readers.

What is often missing from this process is involving the ideal audience early in this process, and at every step of the journey. By the time the strategy, plan, or even website launches, you should have a clear sense as to not just what it should be, but how your target audience feels about it.

This is a messier process, one that requires you to get out of the office to engage with these audiences often, instead of just crafting that “perfect” plan on your laptop. For my process, that can mean I:

  • Collect and analyze all data available about performance of existing strategies/products/services/websites/etc.
  • Review all audience touchpoints and conduct a brand analysis. This is nearly always paired with market research and in some cases, a competitive analysis.
  • Collect and review audience data – either internal or external to the organization. A core element to this, which many overlook, is to actually revisit who their ideal audiences actually are. People often go way too broad on this question. As part of my work, we may create audience profiles and/or personas.
  • Interview key stakeholders internal to the organization, and other partners in the process. For a larger organization, this means chatting with executives and business leaders, and it (very critically) involves speaking with folks who manage processes day to day, including interns. There are ALWAYS hidden insights about what works for your target audience when you chat with these folks.
  • Speak with your ideal audience! This one is huge. I can write a whole series of articles on this one point.
  • Consider who else connects you to your audience, and chat with them. Their needs are often complementary, but different. Understanding their needs and goals can be a key difference in serving a community, not just individual goals.
  • Commissioning new research, such as surveys, focus groups, etc.
  • Test key ideas before you formalize them into an action plan. Too often, we keep our “precious strategy” secret until it is launched. So we only learn what aspects of it work, and which don’t, when it is too late to really adjust. Instead, test ideas again and again to see where theory meets reality.

Inherent in all of this is HUMAN interaction, not some staid list of “best practices.” And empathy is a core part of all of this.

One of my favorite websites is Mixergy.com, where Andrew Warner interviews successful entrepreneurs. What I love about Andrew’s focus is the messy human stuff. So if he is interviewing someone who founded some huge internet company, Andrew always zeroes in on questions about emotions, interpersonal relationships, developing a culture within their organization, the time a customer was let down, dealing with failure, and even how their families coped with the workload required to develop the company.

When you consider all of this within the context of an educational organization, you see the complexity right away: they are serving children, parents, the broader community, and do so with a staff of experts who are aligning to educational standards, internal organizational culture, parental expectations, and let’s not forget: a classroom full of kids! This is not only an incredibly social and human process, but one filled with emotional intensity beyond education itself. Likewise, the “results” of their work (if you can call it that) is not just measured in a short-term letter grade, but in a LIFETIME of actions and experiences that students have once they move on.

For writers I work with, each has the ability to choose every aspect about how they write, how they share that with the world, and how they extend that work into relationships, conversations, or bigger EFFECTS with their audience. And at nearly every step of this process, it is about relationships. I often find that when I begin to work with writers, the first thing we do is try to open that line of communication to readers.

YOUR IDENTITY IS THE EFFECT YOU HAVE ON OTHERS

Identity represents not just who you are, but:

  • Why you do what you want to do
  • Who you serve
  • How you go about doing it
  • The potential effect you have on others
  • Your long-term legacy, and how you will be remembered

For an author, this can be framed as the moments someone reflects on one of your book 8 years after having read it. For an educator, it how what you taught affects a decision that the former student makes 25 years later.

Maya Angelou has that amazing quote:

“People will forget what you said.
People will forget what you did.
But people will never forget how you made them feel.”

So if I ever talk about “branding,” it is not to limit what someone is, but rather to be mindful of how your actions do or don’t create positive experiences for others. And how that experience can have a ripple effect across a lifetime, even extending to how their behavior effects others. Sometimes we simplify this by calling it “word of mouth marketing,” but it goes so much deeper than that.

With writers I work with, we often go through a process of figuring out WHO YOU ARE (as a writer), and WHERE YOU WANT TO GO (with your work.) Without understanding these things, all other decisions are arbitrary, based on who others are, and where they want to go.

For one successful nonfiction author I am working with now, we are tearing back the layers to really identify where they want their future books to lead. Right now, they are in a crowded niche, and have openly said many times that how their books are defined are not how they define themselves. That’s a big gap to not overlook.

For fiction and memoir authors I am working with, we often dig deep into who they are, why they write, and the effect they hope to have in readers, and use this to craft their bios. I can’t even tell you how interesting this process is.

One client has had this whole intriguing career that not only directly relates to their books, but had previously been hidden from readers. The process we go through isn’t about creating a resume, but crafting a narrative whereby an author’s experience informs readers about their writing and worldview.

I always love Barry Eisler’s bio, which starts:

“Barry Eisler spent three years in a covert position with the CIA’s Directorate of Operations, then worked as a technology lawyer and startup executive in Silicon Valley and Japan, earning his black belt at the Kodokan International Judo Center along the way.”

Would you read a thriller by this guy? Oh, yes you would!

For an organization or company, a lot of this stuff is sometimes framed as a “brand book,” or style guides, and is fully realized in the culture of an organization. While many think a culture can be embodied by a “statement of values” posted on a conference room wall, it isn’t. The culture is what you feel when you walk in a room with these people – and what you feel when you see them doing their work, and engaging with their audience or customers.

Library Journal archivesSometimes, you have to look deep into history to experience this. When I worked with Library Journal, I spent time in their archives, looking at issues of the magazine dating back to 1876.

When you extend this to education, I think the complexity grows, perhaps because the mission is so important. The identity of the institution is embodied in the lives of their students, and it truly becomes a lifelong process to be fully realized.

Perhaps this is why I wanted to dig into the Library Journal archives at the time, to EXPERIENCE their mission instead of having it told to me. And of course, when I look back on my experiences with PS 123 over the years, I reflect on not just what I did with these kids back then, but where they are and what they are doing today:

PS 123

EVERYONE NEEDS AN OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE

Last night I helped run a local meetup for creative professionals, and we were discussing the challenges someone has in turning an idea into reality. Inherently, there was an issue of stagnation because of how solitary the process can become. And the value of involving others in the creative process. I recently wrote about my process working with Miranda Beverly-Whittemore, and how my role is in some ways to be a “buddy” in the process.

For organizations, having an outside perspective can be critical to not just reframe direction, but also say things that everyone knows, yet remains unspoken. This is nearly always part of my role as an outside consultant – to bring up difficult topics that others avoid because it creates an uncomfortable work environment.

Likewise providing insight into a RANGE of experiences is critical, which is why I love doing work with organizations outside of publishing, even though I often describe my main focus as writers. I feel that responsibility extends outside of the publishing blinders – to understand how public, non-profit, and private institutions establish their voices, craft meaningful work, and connect that work to a powerful EFFECT in the lives of others.

My wife and I recently renovated our home, and I enlisted MANY others in this process, not just to swing the hammer, but to make loads of decisions, to understand boundaries, and explore possibilities. That is what I looked for when hiring a professional – someone whose range of experience created CONVERSATIONS around what is possible, instead of commoditizing the task a list of “best practices” that didn’t take into account our personal goals and challenges.

What is critical for me in considering working with these organizations is to not just READ about their experiences, but to truly dig in and being a part of their challenges, and hopefully, part of the solutions to helping organizations better share their stories and connect with their communities.

Since the experience was like being a kid in a candy store, let’s end with a tour of the Sesame Workshop offices, which was so much fun to explore! (And no, I didn’t get to visit the Sesame Street set, which is located in a separate facility in Queens.)

Many of the walls are coated with chalkboard paint, so the hallways are filled with these murals:
Sesame Workshop Offices

These are actually TVs in the frames, and the characters interact with you as you approach:
Sesame Workshop Offices

My favorite part of this photo is that the emergency exit door in the background (through the glass of the stairs) has an “Exit” sign very low – at Muppet height!
Sesame Workshop Offices

This is a display of Sesame Street educational material from around the world. Amazing to consider how far-reaching the mission of this organization extends.
Sesame Workshop Offices

The kitchen. The coffee-pods kind of freaked me out. I tried not to lose a finger when operating the machine.
Sesame Workshop Offices

The Big Bird inspired cup dispenser:
Sesame Workshop Offices

On the refrigerator:
Sesame Workshop Offices

Office copy machines look the same everywhere:
Sesame Workshop Offices

The incredible view out front: Lincoln Center:
Sesame Workshop Offices

Cubes also look the same in every office building:
Sesame Workshop Offices

Big Bird, Cookie Monster and Grover having a meeting:
Sesame Workshop Offices

The hallway to the CEO’s office suddenly got more formal: wood and glass:
Sesame Workshop Offices

Fun details on nearly every wall:
Sesame Workshop Offices

It’s hard to see, but this lampshade was made of feathers similar to Big Bird’s:
Sesame Workshop Offices

By far the most depressing thing in their offices: the “Cup ‘O Noodles” machine:
Sesame Workshop Offices

Okay, even their bathroom has an amazing view!
Sesame Workshop Offices

Characters, everywhere you look:
Sesame Workshop Offices

Thank you!
-Dan

Starred Kirkus Review!!!

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


By Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

I’ve been sitting on my hands, waiting to share this exciting news with you. Kirkus, one of the most influential reviewers in the book world, has given Bittersweet a starred review. Here’s the link, but you can also read it here:

“As a young woman struggles to read Paradise Lost, she faces her own temptation. Is she brave enough to choose good over evil?

“Mabel Dagmar, a scholarship student at an East Coast college, is mismatched as roommate to the glamorous, privileged Genevra “Ev” Winslow. For months they lead separate lives, until Ev’s mother invites Mabel to Ev’s 18th birthday party—held at the school’s museum, where Ev has just donated a Degas. Despite their seemingly insurmountable social differences, Ev and Mabel become friends, and Mabel is invited to spend the summer at the Winslows’ summer estate on Lake Champlain, made up of cabins ranging from rustic to luxurious and a communal dining hall. She’s eager to go, especially given that the alternative is working at her parents’ dry cleaners, silently observing her mother’s bruises and enduring her disapproval. Mabel and Ev keep house together in Bittersweet cottage, while Ev’s domineering parents, Birch and Tilde, rule from Trillium House. Ev’s oldest brother, Athol, arrives with his tall, athletic, refined family. Second son Banning is close behind with his more disheveled brood. The third son, Galway, is an enigma. Up only on weekends, he keeps his distance, but his eyes rest on Mabel. After a chance meeting with Ev’s eccentric aunt Indo, Mabel is plunged into mysteries. What does Indo think she can find amid the old Winslow documents? Why did Ev’s cousin Jackson kill himself? Why is Ev hiding her romance with John, who works on the estate? And why are so many doors locked with heavy bolts? As she uncovers evidence of dastardly deeds—some deliciously improbable—Mabel comes face to face with her own secrets.

“Beverly-Whittemore (Set Me Free, 2007, etc.) has crafted a page-turner riddled with stubborn clues, a twisty plot and beguiling characters.”

Huzzah!!!

Writing for Readers

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


By Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

The other day on Twitter, my friend Yael posted about a recent study that found, to quote this article, that “winning a prestigious award not only garners more attention for a book, but also more negative reviews.” Here’s the exchange that article prompted:

What I (usually) like about Twitter is that it goes straight for the jugular. In person I don’t think I would have said out loud: “These days? Reader book, 100%. In my youth I dreamed of critical acclaim.” Not because I’d be embarrassed to admit to that, but because there’s something about 140 characters that can act as a kind of truth serum, and distill beliefs that I didn’t even know I had.

Once I said it, I started thinking about how much writing and publishing Bittersweet is changing my attitude about my career. When I wrote my first two books, I was definitely aware that I was precocious. I was very young, and very driven, and in this culture that often means that someone like who I was then gets serious extra credit. And I did- major book deal, lots of big talk. It was an insidious cycle- because once I’d been given the stamp of approval, I kind of just assumed that people would want to read whatever I wrote, and that meant I believed I deserved the stamp of approval unconditionally.

It’s awful to see it written out so blatantly, but I think now I can finally own up to that assumption.

Yes, I wrote The Effects of Light and Set Me Free because they were surging to get out of me. But I also had a clear belief in the fact that I belonged in the place I’d found myself- in a big-time book contract- and when I didn’t get the critical acclaim (or, let’s be honest, much critical notice at all), I was totally floored/stunned and utterly thrown off balance. I didn’t know who I was as a writer, and part of that was because I’d been driven to write by a striving, hungering need for that next stamp of approval (critical, saleswise) that would make me feel even more accomplished.

The years that came after publishing Set Me Free definitely humbled me and required me to take a step back from the idea that a stamp of approval means much, except in how I choose it to give me meaning. 

Two and a half years ago, when I sat down to write Bittersweet, the drive to do so, first and foremost, came because I wanted it to write something readable. Readable- what does that mean? Well, I wanted to create the delicious experience for someone else that I’ve had with a handful of books- the “I can’t put it down, I can’t come to the dinner table, I can’t go to sleep” addictive rush when a book sucks me in. Yes, I had a dream that a book that was that readable would sell to a publisher, and appeal to that publisher to promote- but most of that ambition was in the interest of finding a reader who was like me- of giving her a gift.

Necessarily, I’ve changed my thinking about reviews. Yes, they are necessary, yes, I will read them, yes, some of them will still probably hurt my feelings a bit. But critical acclaim or disdain pales in comparison to that reader out there who says, “I loved this book!” Because she’s who I’m writing for. There were a number of readers who said that to me about The Effects of Light and Set Me Free, and I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t much listen to them, because my sights were set in the wrong direction. But to all those readers who boosted me through my early careers, I say thank you, and I apologize. It’s you I’m writing for. The you who my books have already found, and the you I haven’t met yet.

The you I’m only just meeting:

Part 5/5 of How I Use John Truby to Outline Fiction: The Final Outline

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


By Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

By the time I get to the outline phase in a novel, round about Chapter Eight of Truby or so, I’ve already got a thick notebook of what I’ve discovered by working with him. Here’s what I know:

My premise- what my novel is “about,” specifically what its moral argument is, and how every moment/character in the novel works in consort with that argument

My characters- their weaknesses, their desires (what they think they want), their needs (what they need to learn), how they work in connection with all the other characters in the novel, and much more.

My setting- how place and time influences every major moment in the novel

My novel’s basic arc- who is battling whom for what, where they’re doing it, why they’re doing it, and how it’s going to end.

See how much I didn’t know I knew? This is when I feel a little thrill! I didn’t know I knew so much, and I’m chomping at the bit to start writing.

But first I need to make myself a solid outline, using what I know. Because of all I now know, instead of feeling insurmountable, the outline now feels like just one of the necessary steps I must take in writing my novel.

My tools: a big old corkboard, a bunch of notecards (in different colors if you want to sort by character, time frame, or some other way), pens (more than one color if you’d like to sort by character or some other method), and some thumbtacks.

As I mentioned yesterday, in Chapter Eight, Truby encourages us to lay out the 22 story steps and lie our plots over them. But I find this to be backwards; by this point in the game, I already have a pretty strong idea of exactly what the most important moments are going to be (these could be called “beats” as well, because they aren’t exactly scenes; they are the emotional and physical journeys my characters will be taking over the course of the book), and I don’t want to feel constricted by having to see them through the restrictive lens of only being “story steps.”

So I sit down with my big stack of notecards and I start writing these moments down. Simple as that. I number them so I can remember the original order I put them down in, but I’m not afraid to move them around (which is why I do this on notecards and instead of in a single document on my computer). You should note that multiple important moments can (and should) happen in a single scene, e.g. if one of the moments is “character A and character B finally kiss” and another is “character C and character D bond as they spy on character A and B kissing,” those moments will ultimately appear in the same scene, but they are distinct for my purposes because they follow different subplots.

The book I’m outlining right now has two parallel time periods linked by a narrator (who’s a girl in the past and an elderly woman in the present). I assigned green to the present day, and yellow to the past. Each major character in both past and present was also assigned a distinct color (whenever I wrote a character’s name, I wrote it so that when I lay the cards out, I could visually track how important they are, and keep an eye the “holes” (if any) where they seemingly disappear from the plot (which I find often identifies other weaknesses in a plot).

It took me two days of hard thinking to get about thirty scenes of each time period down on the notecards. Then I put each of the green and yellow cards into a rough order. Then I started pinning them up on my empty pinboard, which sits just to the right of my desk.

Now, because this next book weaves back and forth in time, I’ve got an extra challenge in terms of thinking about how to make the plot flow- and this is where the 22 story steps come in handy. Although the book takes place over two different time periods, these two strands of the novel inform and influence each other, revealing truths about the other as the reader pushes on. So although they are distinct from each other, they must be married; I want them to feed each other.

This is where the 22 Story Steps come into help. Once I had the yellows and greens pinned up in a general order, I took Truby’s 22 story steps and penciled them in on top of those moments where they felt relevant.

I stood back and looked at what I had. For the most part, the story flowed! I walked myself through each beat, and realized the story steps really did feed, one into the next, across both time periods, that there weren’t many character holes, that no one seems to be in this story who isn’t vital to it. (That pink card? That’s the moment of revelation for my storyteller, who narrates both time periods, and must learn something as well).

I’m sure there will be parts of this outline that will change. That’s why it’s called an outline- not an immutable straitjacket. That’s why it’s on notecards (although I’ve transcribed what’s on them into a word document in case of apocalypse, I don’t think of that document as an unchangeable thing). What I have now is some help. The bravery to move forward with writing, because I know where I’m going.

Outlining a book isn’t a science. But Truby’s book is the closest I’ve ever come to having, if not a formula, then at least a roadmap, to putting something in place that will help me find my way in the dark room. Truby shines a flashlight on that wild beast who is in the dark with me; the book who is waiting for me to find it.

This post is part of a five part series. Click here for Part OnePart TwoPart ThreePart Four and Part Five.