I returned from New York this week, having loved just about every minute of it. It was an extremely fast trip, with zero time to see anyone save the agent, editor and Tamar, with whom I spent one night. To my friends, like Kymm, who I very much wanted to see but didn't even e-mail, my apologies -- it was just that fast of a trip with no spare time built in.
The point of the trip was to meet the agent and editor in person (and discover to my complete non-surprise that they were as wonderful in person as they've both been on the phone) (and pretty!), and to discuss the editor's response to the book, any notes, and marketing strategies / ideas, etc. Of course, I was elated that the editor had read and loved the book. We discussed a few note-like things, in a sort of broadstroke way, and honestly, all of the notes are small, very do-able. In fact, two or three were things I'd realized I'd wanted to do anyway, so I'm pretty jazzed that we are not only thinking alike, but that her notes resonate with me so well. Plus, my agent had several brilliant suggestions that will make the polishing even easier. This also means the work I'd begun on book two can contunue as planned, since I don't have to rethink anything major. The actual written notes won't be ready until around Valentine's, though, so I'm back to focusing on book two, writing-wise, for now.
There were many things discussed about marketing, but it's premature to put them here. I'll be going back in the fall, though, which is very cool. The pub date is set at May 1, 2007. The reason for the distance from submission is twofold: one, unless you're famous already and/or there's some sort of reason to rush your book to press, the average is one year to eighteen months from submission of the manuscript until you've got a book in your hands. This gives the editor time to edit you, revisions to be done, then copyediting, then proofing of galleys, then Advanced Reading Copies to be printed and sent out with blurb requests and sent out for reviews, and time must lapse for those people to get a chance to read and do the blurb or review (if you're lucky and they do them). Our second reason for settig the pub date at May 1, 2007 is because it coincides with a particular festival here which is the background for my book (more on that later). The publisher wants to tie the launch of the book in with the opening of the festival, and maybe we'll have some sort of book signing there. If that can be arranged.
It was a little bit weird to me to fly to New York alone. I've been traveling to L.A. now for years, and while the first time was a bit scary due to the size of the city, the fact that I could drive around to navigate made it all seem relatively normal. Also, the architecture in L.A. is ironically very similar to that in Baton Rouge -- they are both heavy on the Spanish influence, transitioning into the Victorian and Colonial and Craftsman eras in much the same way in their neighborhoods as Baton Rouge did. New York, however, as everyone well knows, has subways. Baton Rouge does not have subways. We very rarely have anything underground except lots and lots of water, so the idea of walking down into a catacomb-like structure, sort of trapped under there by the turnstiles, getting on these subway trains and zooming underneath a city... well, it's just a little weird. My agent bought me a Metrocard, which promptly refused to scan. I flunked scanning! Children can scan a Metrocard, but not moi. Something like seven or eight times I tried to scan my Metrocard and couldn't, to the point where she had to come back through the turnstile, scan my card for me, and then go back through herself.
I felt like I should be wearing a giant "I am Southern fried and confused" neon sign above my head.
Yes, this is the person you want to give an advance to and trust she has a clue.
At any rate, I loved the convenience of the subway once I got acclimated, though the numbers for the stops whizzed past so quickly, it was a little difficult to know where the hell I was. I can imagine that day when I'm supposed to navigate the stops by myself or, God forbid, change from one line to the next to cut across town... I will probably bug everyone within hearing distance to help me.
Which is what I did when I took the bus out to Montclaire.
Everyone getting on that bus figured out within three nanoseconds that I didn't know what to do or where exactly my stop was, so three or four of them volunteered information (from descriptions of the routes, to telling me which stop mine would be after they got off), and one woman kept bugging the driver to be sure to let me know which stop was mine. I'm pretty sure that as often as she shouted, "Sir? Sir? Is this her stop? Because she doesn't know which one is her stop. Could you let her know, Sir?" the man would have gotten up and tossed me off the bus at my stop just to make sure I was gone.
Overall, I found New Yorkers extremely friendly. Not something you'd expect to find given the sterotype portrayed on TV and in films, but true for my experience.
The main thing about the trip was how the city juxtaposed itself to what I had seen and heard and known from countless TV shows and film imagery. Walking down a subway entrance was simultaneously new and a first for me and yet, old hat, because I'd seen it on hundreds of Law and Order shows and the like. Seeing the subways whoosh by was normal and expected, the imagery merging with that memory in my mind of having seen it before, only I hadn't, not really, not this way, not in person with the roar of the trains being so loud, you can't really hear what anyone next to you is saying and you can feel the platform rumbling, hear the rattle of the trains against the tracks, feel the air against your face. From standing in awe at the enormity of Times Square, seeing the overhead neon signs and giant screens and the utter competition between buildings to out-technologically shine over everyone else, to see the throng of people everywhere, to the wonderful little Italian restaurant in SoHo with its checkered tablecloths, jukebox, old world tin ceiling painted green and polished wood bar, where the food was utterly excellent, it was all both familiar and strange, a bit like falling down the rabbit hole.
I am very much looking forward to going back. The next time, I hope Carl can come and we can make a vacation out of the trip as well, because there are hundreds of things I would have liked to have seen and I know he would enjoy it as well.
For now, off to work. I'm finishing up outlining Book Two. I haven't done anything nearly so fancy as Diana has done for plotting, although I considered it. I have the board, I have the notes, I got started and then the trip interrupted it. I have written reams and reams on the story in my own way of outlining, but it's not a system anyone else could follow, as it's more my way of devling into character and plot simultaneously. Of course, if I get stuck, I will be coming back to this system Diana's mentioned here and giving it a go, because it looks like it could take some of the guesswork out of the fear of whether a story line is working and is being threaded through well enough.
More later...