That magical title

To pitch my book to agents and publishers, I need a title.

I know what you’re thinking: How can I possibly come up with a title when I haven’t written the book? It ain’t easy. But since I’ve already outlined the book for my book proposal and developed a theme, it’s feasible to build upon that base and create a working title.

I need something catchy. Something that “tells and sells,” as literary agent Michael Larsen advises in his book about writing a proposal. A title that will appeal to a wide audience, one that offers a bit of the book’s flavor.

Most successful women’s travel books use the Title: Subtitle format, and for good reason: It allows for creativity but also gives the reader a sense of what the book’s about. To prove my point, here are a few examples from my bookshelf full of travel memoirs:

* Somebody’s Heart is Burning: A Woman Wanderer in Africa. By Tanya Shaffer.

* Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia. By Elizabeth Gilbert.

* Tales of a Female Nomad: Living At Large in the World. By Rita Golden Gelman.

* Without Reservations: The Travels of an Independent Woman. By Alice Steinbach.

Since the second phrase usually explains the meat of the book, I brainstormed the subtitle first. What makes my book stand out? What makes it different from other travel books? 1. I’m a woman. 2. I traveled solo. 3. I traveled in Africa. And so I came up with this subtitle: A Woman’s Solo Journey Through Africa.

The primary title is a bit harder because it requires more creativity. So far, I’m leaning toward Madame or Mademoiselle? Here’s a paragraph straight from my book proposal that explains why that title’s appropriate:

Unlike other women’s travel books, the author is not looking for love, nor escape from a failed relationship. Instead, she seeks freedom and independence, a chance to see the world through her own eyes. Paradoxically, to fend off men hoping to snag a white woman as their wife — “Mrs. or Miss?” they ask, and, “Are you married?” — the author constantly lies about her single status, claiming that her husband is back at the hotel or at home in the states.

Together, those pieces form this title:

Madame or Mademoiselle? A Woman’s Solo Journey Through Africa.

Whatcha think? Does it work? Or should I go back to the drawing board?

Learning to “handle” comparison

As part of my book proposal, I need a catchy two-line selling handle that summarizes the theme and plot of my book. The handle is a bit like the book-jacket blurb, the paragraph readers skim while browsing in the bookstore, one that convinces them to purchase a book.

I’ve already shared with you the first part of my (work-in-progress) selling handle:

The story of a journalist who leaves behind a stable life in Houston to backpack through an undeveloped continent in search of adventure, this poignant narrative will inspire readers to take leaps in their own lives.

Now comes the hard part. Some writers and agents recommend creating a sentence that compares the manuscript to other books that have already been published. This helps the agent — and later, the publisher and readers — quickly get an idea of what type of story he’s considering.

In The Sell Your Novel Tool Kit, Elizabeth Lyon (who also authored another book I recommend, Nonfiction Book Proposals Anybody Can Write) gives this advice:

“Comparing yourself to other published writers is a tricky line to walk, because a writer who boasts of being “the next Harold Robbins” in half-inch letters (the lead in a real query shared with me by an agent) will receive a rejection so quickly, the envelope will be blistered where the agent pounded it shut …

Some agents suggest that you offer one comparison to a classic author and one comparison to a contemporary author. It is also acceptable to compare your book to movies that have sprung from books …

Handles seem to me very Hollywood-like, but many agents like them — if they are accurate and not another version of the Harold Robbins example given earlier.”

Throughout her explanation, she gives a handful of examples:

“This novel falls somewhere between Fried Green Tomatoes and A Time to Kill in style and content.”

Do I need a literary agent?

Until I began learning about the publishing process, I thought only movie stars had agents.

Turns out wannabe authors do, too. But why, you ask, would a writer want to hire an agent?

Literary agents serve as intermediaries between author  hopefuls and publishers, helping writers polish their proposal, shop it around to publishers and negotiate contract terms. They take care of the money-related tasks required to publish a book, so the author can focus on writing. And they work off commission — generally 15 percent of whatever the book brings in.

They also help newbies like myself  understand the publishing process, which is the primary reason why I want one. As friends in the industry have explained to me, I don’t really need an agent to get my book published, but having one likely would increase my chances of selling my book to a large publisher. And since an agent would negotiate for me the best possible contract — partly because that pays her commission — I’d probably get a better deal with one at my side.

At least a dozen literary agents maintain well-read blogs that offer tips and ideas. Literary agency BookEnds, one of my favorites, has a few great entries about working with agents.  Miss Snark, the literary agent stopped posting in 2007, but writers find her blog so helpful that they still refer to it. And literary agent Nathan Bransford offered an “agent for a day” contest on his blog, so writers could get a taste of what it’s like to look through piles of submissions. (I link to these agent blogs and others on the right-hand sidebar.)

Of course, plenty of writers manage to get published without the help of an agent. Some approach publishers themselves or take other routes that don’t involve agents, such as the increasingly popular method of self-publishing.

But me? I’ve got enough to worry about just crafting this story. I’d like to find an agent sooner rather than later, so we can interest a publisher in my manuscript while I’m writing it, instead of waiting until it’s complete. That would give me peace of mind — knowing I’m working on a project a publisher will actually buy — and provide me with an advance (aka income) to keep me financially afloat while I write.

Here’s the catch: I can’t simply hire an agent. They have to want me and my proposed book.

Writers get the attention of agents through a one-page query, a letter asking the agent to consider their project. It’s short and sweet, a summary of the project and a bit about the author’s qualifications, and written in a catchy way that entices the agent to read more. (I’ll dedicate a blog post to query letters sometime soon.)

If the agent is interested, she’ll request the writer’s book proposal, a document I explained in an earlier post that includes an outline of the book, promotion plan, working title and two sample chapters.

My first book proposal: It’s a love-hate relationship.

Two-and-a-half months. That’s how long it took me to write a book proposal. And it doesn’t even include sample chapters.

What proposal could possibly take you 2.5 months, you ask? The kind that’s required for a nonfiction book, one with a working title, promotion plan and detailed outline for each chapter. (For all you novelists out there, a nonfiction proposal is quite different from what’s required for fiction.)

I need a proposal to convince a literary agent to represent me and a publisher to buy my book. Initially, I found the task frustrating, since it required spending hours upon hours creating a document intended to sell my project, instead of writing the book itself.

But the more I wrote, I realized that this proposal did, indeed, have another huge benefit, one I hadn’t expected: It forced me to flesh out my idea. And I mean really flesh it out. This piece of work had to be more than a puny paragraph that summarized my book. It required becoming intimate with the theme of my travel memoir, planning how the plot will unfold and outlining every chapter. Not to mention titling every chapter and the book itself. To do that — to create titles — I really needed a clear vision.

Luckily, I had a leg up on most wannabe authors who set out to write a masterpiece. I had my blog. On that travel blog, Inkslinging in Africa, I had relayed dozens of tales in real time, stories that  now are serving as rough drafts, pieces of chapters. All I had to do to put together my proposal was sift through those stories, pick out ones that were book-worthy and tie them together with a theme.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy, just as it won’t be easy to turn my proposal into a book. Those blog posts — most written in haste in the middle-of-nowhere Africa while I prayed my Internet connection would last five more minutes — must be re-written with style. And there are a lot of holes to fill. But it’s a start! I’ll take any head start I can get.

Since I’d never written a book proposal before, I enlisted the help of literary agent Michael Larsen — well, through his book anyhow. How to Write a Book Proposal has got to be the best guide out there. Larsen so baby-stepped me through the process that sometimes, when I squeezed my eyes shut, I could actually feel him holding my hand. (OK, so writing and rewriting and rewriting on my computer all day may have me longing for human interaction.)

I read Larsen’s book once. Then I read some parts again. And as I drafted the proposal, I referred back to individual chapters. Following Larsen’s method, I crafted what I believe is a cogent and convincing, 30-page proposal — one that’s now helping me write the book. As soon as I finish sample chapters to go along with it, my proposal will be ready for a literary agent’s eye.

So what does Larsen suggest?

How’s the book coming?

More than three months have passed since I returned home from Africa, determined to write a travel memoir.

As I hole myself up in my home office and coffee-shop hop with my laptop, friends and family ask, “How’s the book coming?”

I know what they’re really thinking: What has she been doing all this time?

So, here’s what I’ve been doing. I’ll expound on each of these tasks in the next dozen or so posts:

1. Figuring out how to write a book proposal — and writing it.

This ain’t no small job — It has taken the bulk of my time. A nonfiction book proposal includes an overview of the book, promotion plan and detailed summary of each chapter. Basically an outline of the book, which means I actually had to figure out what I’m going to write, then give it structure and theme. Not to mention a working title, a challenge in itself.

2. Learning how to write a query letter — and writing it.

To attract an agent, I need a beautifully crafted query letter that explains who I am, what my book is about and why they should represent me — all in one page.

3. Researching literary agents.

I’m constantly reading about agents to figure out who might be interested in representing my type of book. I’ve come up with a list of a dozen for my first round of queries — let’s hope I won’t need a second round.

4. Reading about book marketing and picking strategies.

Why now? Because a large chunk of my book proposal must be dedicated to book promotion. To convince a publisher to buy my book, I need a plan for how I’m going to sell copies before it’s even written. (A publisher helps with promotion, but much of marketing is still up to the author.)

5. Networking.

I’ve joined all the popular social networking sites — and then some. I’m building contacts now so when my book is published, I’ll have a wide net willing to catch my promotion.

6. Picking the brain of anyone who will indulge me.

I’ve tracked down friends, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends who work in publishing to ask for advice about this process. Same with authors and other writers.

7. Creating a personal Web site.

I’m going to need a site once my book is published, so why not build it now? Agents and publishers interested in my work will visit the page to learn more about me.

8. Applying to writers’ colonies.

Rather than write alone at home, I’m hoping to escape to several residency programs for writers. The catch: they have to want me. I’ve got to earn an acceptance, and these applications are time-consuming.

9. Writing.

I’ve spent only about a quarter of my time so far actually writing the book. For now, I’m channeling my writing energy into two sample chapters that will become part of my proposal.

10. Crossing my fingers.

This has slowed my progress considerably, since keeping my fingers crossed makes it nearly impossible to type, a skill required for steps 1 through 9.

Because the world needs another aspiring author

Three months into writing my first book, a dozen envelopes addressed to literary agents are stacked next to my desk, stamped and ready to go.

But I haven’t mailed them.

Why? It’s complicated. I’m rewriting sample chapters. My professional Web site isn’t ready. And the better I get to know my own book, the more I think I’m going to have to revise my proposal.

This was my deadline! April 1st! The week I planned to mail out those magical one-page queries, letters that would prompt my dream agents to drop whatever they were working on and request my proposal. And then, of course, one would offer to represent me, guide me through the process of publishing my first book.

And yet here we are nearly halfway through April, and those carefully crafted queries are just sitting here in my home office, mocking me.

“You’ll never transition from newspaper journalism to book writing!” They gloat. “Never find your style, your voice! Never piece all these mini stories together to form a themed tale! Never learn to navigate our publishing world!”

Sometimes I believe them. But most days, I muscle through, soliciting advice from anyone and everyone who knows what they’re talking about. Because writing a book, it turns out, is about more than writing.

It’s about finding your literary voice. Convincing an agent to represent you. Creating a book proposal that will hook publishers. Figuring out how to fit writing into your schedule. And for me, it’s about transitioning from a busy newsroom full of editors eager to offer feedback, to my quiet home office, where self-doubt lurks amidst the silence.

As a first-time (soon-to-be) author, the process can be daunting, like feeling my way around in the dark. Each time I gather a new tidbit of information, I think: Wouldn’t it be great if I could share this with other aspiring authors? And, at the same time, gather advice from authors who have already been down this well-traveled road?

That’s why I’m inviting you on my quest to write a book and get it published. As you laugh at my mistakes, I’m hoping you’ll also offer ideas and advice, words of wisdom for this newbie. By the end — who knows when that will be — this blog should boast a published book!

UPDATE: To answer questions I’ve gotten already — Yes, some agents still prefer snail mail.