Archive for the writing process

COVER REVEAL: You’ll Love the Paperback Version of “SHAKEN”

I am asked about book covers from time to time. People are generally curious about the author’s “say” in a cover. 

The answer varies from author to author, publisher to publisher. 

But first, this:

Making a cover is an art. An imprecise creative act. And in talking about these experiences honestly, I don’t mean to disparage anyone’s work. Everybody goes into it wanting to make a great cover. Or, if not great, at least a cover that fits the book. A cover that works.

If you are a big name author — someone who generates significant sales — you’ll will have clout in all regards. You’ll have, at the very least, serious input and veto power over any cover. The publisher wants you to be happy. They want to keep you in the fold.

However, if the author does not occupy that rare air (read: most of us), the publisher will have final word on the cover, which they take very seriously. They hold meetings. Explore options. Discuss covers with sales. Analyze marketing histories and receive input from booksellers. Some publishers even test covers and titles with focus groups. It’s a dificult, challenging, artistic in-house process. And usually after all that happens, after decisions have discussed and agonized over and finally made, that’s when the author will be brought into the process. Often that simply means: “This is the cover, hope you like it.”

After all, this is their business, their investment, their expertise. They want to sell the book (almost) as much as you do. 

I once read someone’s take on this — sorry, I forget who — which I’ve pretty much adopted: The cover is the publisher’s domain. Everything between the covers is the author’s. 

Since I’ve been directly involved in children’s publishing for 40 years, I’ve found it disappointing to be kept out of that creative process. I’ve seen some of my books get beautiful, effective covers. And others that I instantly knew had badly missed the mark. Covers that made little sense or were, in a word, unappealing. It’s a sinking feeling when I look at a cover that I know doesn’t work, because it typically spells doom for sales.

It happens. 

On a more subtle level, I believe that a cover signals to booksellers and reviewers (not just consumers) how a publisher views that particular title. Or where a book fits in the pecking order. There are budgets to consider, projected profit-and-loss statements to balance. A cover also, obviously, provides clues about what kind of story awaits inside. Sometimes for marketing purposes these clues are vague and even intentionally misleading. Sometimes we look at a cover and can’t wait to start reading. 

As a freelancer, I have another rule: Try not to be too very much of a pain in the neck. Nobody wants to hire the difficult writer. Life is full enough of headaches without actually paying for them. Moreover, my default is to genuinely honor and respect the different people involved, who are all doing their best. It’s a team effort and sometimes you’ve just got to step away and let those folks do their jobs. 

Which is to say: 

I love the new paperback cover to Shaken. It won’t be out until 2026, so you’ll need to wait, but for me this is a cover that I truly like. And that’s not always the case.

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MAXX TRAX Remembered!

MAXX TRAX: Avalanche Rescue! was my first published book, 1986. I worked closely with my late beloved pal, editor Craig Walker. Could not have written it half as well without him. I was a snot-nosed kid, 25. The book sold more than 1.5 million copies (no royalties, flat fee) on book clubs, first time out of the gate. A shocking success (I worked on the 10th floor as a junior copywriter at the time). Scholastic bizarrely changed illustrators for the second title — a totally new look, computer generated, and awful — and it didn’t fare well. Oh, well. Done, gone, those two books long out of print.
And yet not entirely forgotten. I still get emails about it. Several just this year. People who remember loving MAXX TRAX as a kid. Or parents who read them with their children. They still love the thrill of trucks and action stories. I haven’t been able to sell anything like it since. This is almost 40 years ago. This photo came to me last week . . . so kind of this family to remember those books & think of me.

On Writing: Body Language & Character

I want to talk about writing today. Let’s begin by looking at this famous image of John F. Kennedy, which I came across & posted yesterday in connection with a quote:

As writers, we need to try to see people and convey that in words. I’m not great at this by any means. It requires effort, a struggle, as it doesn’t often come naturally in my writing. But as writers, we must try to notice things, mannerisms, telling details. Why? To help the reader see. And also: as a way into character. 

Look around: People are everywhere. Ask yourself, how would I describe that posture? The woman in the coffee shop. The kid on the slide. How do it quickly, efficiently, in a sentence or two?

Back to the Kennedy image. It could be, simply:

He stands with arms crossed, neck bent, head down.

Or a little more:

He stands with arms criss-crossed, neck bent, head down. He is reflective, feeling deeply. 

Yuck, okay, the voice feels wrong — I might be trying to avoid the “lost in thought” cliche — or, say:

Arlo stands with arms criss-crossed, neck bent, head down. This is the Arlo I love. When he is quiet and reflective. I long to know what is in his heart. 

Or that last bit in the 3rd person: 

Esme longs to know what is in his heart.

Or inject more story into it:

Arlo stands with arms criss-crossed, neck bent, head down. This is classic Arlo. A performance. He is such a fraud. I can’t wait to hear what utter bullshit he’ll say next.

Or, okay:

He tucks his hands beneath his crossed arms, stands quietly, head down, considering. 

***

And on and on and on, endlessly. There are a million options, a million ways to get at it. Or to paint it, if you will. 

Try to do that today. Watch people closely. Notice how they hold themselves. At first, try to strictly describe only what you see: the ankles crossed, the fingers touching a necklace, the mouth a thin line of disapproval, etc. 

The truly amazing thing is how entire characters, entire world views, can grow out of this simple practice. The posture is a seed that flowers into a fully-formed, “living” character.

For example, say, this: 

The way Anna fidgets with the bracelet on her thin, right wrist. The bracelet was her mother’s, a gift before the cancer took her away. It was a year ago but feels like yesterday. Anna reaches for it when she feels nervous, or insecure, or just bored and lonely. A habit of the heart. It seems to help. She remembers the love that is gone and, almost magically, the love that persists.

I just made that up. Beginning with an image of a physical act.

Now it’s your turn. 

Go deeper, if you wish. But mostly, as an exercise, try to describe what you see. A sentence or two. The crossed ankles. The twirling of the hair. The setting of the shoulders. The forward-leaning walk, arms swinging. It all begins & ends with the seeing. 

Don’t miss my newest middle-grade novel, Shaken. Now also available on Audible, read by Caitlyn Davis. 

 

New Book Out in March, 2025 — ONLY IN WASHINGTON, D.C.

My latest side project, due out in March. This is work I picked up with a terrific British publisher. I have a lot of thoughts on this that I’m not ready to dive into today. But we are witnessing an unprecedented battle for history in this country, with the current Republican Administration moving relentlessly to scrub the history books “clean.” History is written by the victors and on that note we must be vigilant and tireless. I recently visited the site of the Tulsa Massacre and met many local teachers who commented that they had never learned about it in school. One teacher told me that her grandfather referred to it as “the riots.” Local history! Now my little book here is a minor thing — I was serving a publisher and an established line of books — but I made a thousand micro-decisions and I strived to be on the side of Diversity, Equality, and Inclusion.

For more details: stomp here.

Upon Wanting “The Third Thing”

If I’m honest, I think I’ve always wanted the third thing.

And now here in the gloaming of my career, I’ve come to understand that that wanting, that longing, has been at the core of my discomfort as a writer.

Foolish or not, I wanted more from the world.

Of course, it applies to every aspect of life. 

I first heard it explained in this way via a brief video, which I believe featured Ryan Holiday, the philosopher and writer. Some months later, I tracked down his book, The Daily Stoic, co-authored by Stephen Hanselman.

A week ago I Googled “the third thing” and found this entry from a 2020 Daily Stoic email:

You want it, don’t you?

That “I told you so.” That “Thank You.” That recognition for being first, or being better, or being different. You want credit. You want gratitude. You want the acknowledgement for the good you’ve done, for the weight that you carry.

What you want is what Marcus Aurelius has called “the third thing,” because you’re not content enough with the doing. “When you’ve done well and another has benefited by it,” he writes, “why like a fool do you look for a third thing on top—credit for the good deed or a favor in return?”

Now, “fool” is a strong word, but the point stands. Why can’t the deed be enough? Was a pat on the back really the reason you decided to value the truth? Is that why you helped someone? Did you leave a big tip to that waitress or driver who was clearly struggling so they’d run out and thank you—or did you do it because you knew that it was right? Do you take your lonely stand because it will look cool, or because it was unconscionable to you to throw in with the mob?

You don’t need a favor back. You don’t need to be repaid. You don’t need to be acknowledged. You don’t need the third thing. That’s not why you do what you do. You’re good because it’s good to be good, and that’s all you need.

 

Aurelius and Holiday are focused here on daily life. Holding a door open for someone. Shoveling a neighbor’s driveway. Pausing to let a car enter into a busy traffic lane. The little things one does or does not do in the course of a day. 

Why do we do it? For the accolades?

And aren’t the accolades, when we stop to think about it, irrelevant?

But professionally, I confess that deep down I’ve always hungered after it. The acclaim, the attention, the invitations & engagements. We all want to be seen, I think. And for a writer, that means to be read. Plus, of course, to be praised & loved by those same readers.

While I’ve had a long career, in which I’ve enjoyed many rewarding experiences — fan mail, school visits, awards — I’ve never achieved that highest level of success. By and large, the third thing has been elusive.

Maybe the lesson here is that there is always a third thing, no matter what you achieve? So many artists experience that nagging dissatisfaction. That great Peggy Lee song, “Is That All There Is?” I could listen to it and nod all day long.

I realize that I have nothing to complain about — there are so very many aspiring writers who would love to enjoy my success — but I’m trying to share a little nugget of wisdom I’ve learned along the way, or at least something I am trying to learn. 

I’ve always wrestled with it. Ego is the enemy. The wanting is the thing to distrust. Despite being an actively published author for 39 years, I don’t feel like a success. However, I tell myself, that can’t be the measure of my happiness, or my worth. Wishing for the dubious third thing.

That’s the outside stuff. The part that I have no control over. The awards and accolades and articles and interviews that don’t come. All the stuff that isn’t me, isn’t in my domain: that’s not why I do what I do. 

I am trying to let go of that third thing.

Trying to get my mind & heart right.

Trying to do the work in front of me. Be my best. Write as well as I can. Control what I can control. Feel peace and contentment and gratitude.

And let go.

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