We welcome payola in the form of pies, cakes, neatly folded laundry and free books!
In accordance with FTC regulations, we're required to inform readers that we receive books from publishers, authors, and PR folk for review. We'd like to receive money via an offshore bank account, but that hasn't happened yet. When my dad was in radio back in the '50s, a local baker used to sneak over in the dead of night and fill the back seat of his car with bread and pastries. We would NOT object to this. Please review our review policy here. And let us know if we should leave the car outside the garage tonight.
To encourage and inform emerging writers, support books and authors we love, dialogue with peers in the publishing biz, and reflect on a life and living made of books.
Thanks for visiting!
To subscribe to BtO, click "Subcribe to: Posts" at the bottom of the page and then "Subscribe to this feed."
Want to borrow a cup of content? Feel free to share our link or a brief quote with your friends. But please e-mail for permission to reprint or repost our work elsewhere, and always add an attribution and a link back to our site.
We welcome your feedback. Feel free to post comments. PR and outreach from publishers and published authors should be sent to: email@example.com.
Boxing the Octopus: all content copyright 2008 Colleen Thompson and Joni Rodgers all rights reserved.
This morning, I received the galleys, or page proofs, for my March release, Touch of (cue ominous music) Evil. Since I only completed edits about a month ago and went through it again for copyedits two weeks back, I have to admit, I wasn't exactly thrilled to see it darken my door again so soon, especially since galleys always have a fairly short turnaround, and I'm working on getting a couple of proposals shaped up for submission.
But galleys matter. Really matter. They're the very last line of defense for your readers, and it's up to you to save them from any missed typos, screw-ups introduced during the editing process, and continuity errors. They're the last chance to wash the face and tie the shoelaces of this project you've sunk hundreds of hours into creating before you send it out into the world.
Give your galleys short shrift, and problems will come back to haunt you, if not in the guise of angry reader letters, then in lackluster reviews or more importantly, a lost opportunity for repeat business from readers jerked out of the story by your sloppy workmanship. Some writers might think, "Well, it's my job to write the story, and the editors' job to clean it up," but in the mind of most readers, the buck stops with the person whose name graces the cover of the book.
So there'll be no rum for me, or wine or vodka either, until I finish and not a lot of yo-ho-hoing, either, only sustained and serious concentration on a story as I wish it luck and send it on its way.
It's a goodbye for me as well, for this will be the last time I read the novel I've read so many times before. Many of my colleagues read their books as soon as they're in print, but I'm always afraid I'll spot some error that slipped past me, ones that can't be fixed. Besides, by the time this book appears, I'll be immersed in other projects, and as a writer, I much prefer looking forward and not back.
If anyone has any brilliant tips for improving your focus on galleys, I would love to hear them. Otherwise, I'll see you on the other side!