Editorial (Ass)istant: When Do You Know?

Ah, it's Thursday, you can all breathe again. We know you've been waiting with bated breath for Miss Moonrat's answer to that vexing question. Before you read on, one bit of advice, be certain that first page sings, my friend -- and the rest of it too! And after you read her response, make sure to go over to her blog, http://editorialass.blogspot.com/, and read the archives, all of them. There's much to learn.

So to recap, we asked Moonrat (aka Editorial (Ass)istant), a woman we know to work at one of New York's finer publishing houses (see Monday's post), to answer a simple question:

Q) When you read a manuscript, at what point do you stop reading, knowing you'll decline, and at what point do you feel your pulse quicken, expecting to make an offer?

Moonrat: At the risk of quoting a Tom Cruise movie... Remember when Jerry McGuire walks in the door and gives Renee Zelwegger a long take-me-back speech? I know you can see where this is going.

You really should have me at "hello." The proposals that really get me start so strongly that I can't resist them. If you don't start strongly, then (on my desk, at least) your book will have to distinguish itself in spite of itself.

Notice I say "proposal" and not "manuscript." The reason is that "hello" comes well before I start reading your first page. Really, "hello" comes when your agent calls me on the phone and pitches your book to me. To this end, you can help your agent out by working together to brainstorm the perfect pitch line--one that catches my attention and is memorable. There are ways of pitching the same book that can make it more or less attractive to an editor (who, keep in mind, will have to sell the concept to her money-minded publisher and sales department, not to mention about a jillin other people). Stay away from generic praise and focus on what is special and unique about the book--"A beautiful collection of lyrical linked stories" means much less to me (and, thereby, to my boss) than "What happens to a tight-knit small-town community when they discover a secret in their church basement?"--even if we're talking about the exact same book. I know it sounds horribly commercial and low-minded, but a memorable pitch will set your manuscript apart from the other 15 beautiful and lyrical books I have on my desk at any given time.

Not that I encourage you to underestimate the importance of your first page! If you do, it may be the only page of your manuscript I read! On the other hand, for almost every book I've ever bought--let me think, are there even any exceptions?--I've already known at the first page that this book was one I was going to care about. It's a combination of the sellable hook and how caught up in the writing I get at the first page.

If a book does not speak to me with its first page, I give it the benefit of the doubt and continue reading closely for at least 20 pages. After that, I'll skim to 50pages. But as I turn each page and still fail to be engaged, it becomes less and less likely that I will change my mind.

It's true. I make snap judgments. But I'm not too proud to admit it. I hope that that is information that authors can make work for them, though. I sincerely doubt I'm the only editor who works like this!