Monday, August 17, 2009

The Writing of Loon: A Marine Story - Part 5



This is the last of a 5 part repost.


When I returned home from Hong Kong, the contract was waiting. The details were numbingly legal, but the bas

I was only disappointed to hear that the publication date had been set for May 19, 2009 - well over a year away. RH sought to position Loon as a beach book, a summer read. They also wanted to be certain that it didn't get caught up in the media hysteria surrounding the Presidential election.



I was assigned an executive at Random House who was to shepherd Loon from manuscript to publication. The book now belonged to them, so the first time I had someone else on my team with a financial stake in the book's success. 

This was business. 

I understood business.

What were the next steps? 
  • Final editing. There were several minor areas that RH felt could be developed - a paragraph here, a chapter ending there. These were only suggestions, but they were right on every point. The changes were made.
  • Permissions. This required that I have written permission from anyone that I had quoted, cited, or mentioned in a potentially libelous way ("Would Sal Martucci, or his family see your humor in watching him get shot for venereal disease?") Several of these permissions required that I personally pay a royalty to the author (Lou Reed Music, for example.)
  • Cover design. I had always seen Loon as a coming of age story with broad age and gender appeal. Then again, it is a war story. How do we walk the line to create the cover we want that will be appealing to the broad segment of the market. I found the result to be incredible!
  • Copyediting. I had presented what I felt was a near perfect manuscript. What came back were pages of penciled scribble in a language akin to Navajo. The (suggested) corrections were editorial, grammatical, and contextual. Remember how in school you'd turn in a paper with perhaps a couple of soft points that you thought might skate by??!! Nothing missed the copyeditor.
Now, with three months to go before publication, I've been assigned a publicist who has a PhD in English and enough experience to position the book well in the media. At every turn, I have been amazed by professionalism of all with whom I have dealt. Now we again need your help.

We are beginning to plan a book tour, media events, and the like to assure a positive launch on May 19.


So many of you have been supportive of this effort. Thanks to your pre-order purchases, Loon is #219,116 on the Amazon best seller list (A Tale of Two Cities is 604,437). We’ve been as high as 89,000 and as low as over a million. (Editor's note - Loon has risen as high as 2,300 on Amazon and currently sits at 12,300.)

I am confident that Loon will be a #1 best seller. The grand young sons of Charlie Company have earned nothing less.


Please let me know of potential book signing venues (including your house,) media and literary that may be good targets for a favorable review.


Thank you for your support.

Thank you for visiting.

Semper Fidelis.


Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The Writing of Loon: A Marine Story - Part 4

This is the fourth in a series of five reposts


With the Loon manuscript now in the capable hands of my agent in New York, there was little for me to do but wait. Although she felt that there could be 8 or 10 publishers with an interest, she was careful to keep my lofty expectations in check. It was now about cash, marketing, and brand creation. Was there an audience out there for a topic that had a well earned reputation as a marketing graveyard - Vietnam?

Early in February 2008, I received word that we had two declinations. Although the comments were encouraging, the decisions were not. At the end of the month, days before leaving on a three week trip to visit my daughter and her family in Hong Kong, I called to see if there was any news.

"Well, sort of. We got a nibble from Random House."

I'd been in sales long enough to know that all big catches begin with a nibble. Success comes from keeping a fish on the line and reeling it in.

"A nibble," I responded. "Nibbles are good. Yes? I mean, nibbles are better than no nibbles, right?" I needed some hope here, something positive to dream about on a sixteen hour airplane ride.

"Yes, Jack. Nibbles are better than no nibbles."

So off I went to Hong Kong filled with hope. I told friends and family that I'd had a nibble from Random House. The response was enthusiastic. I was ecstatic.

Random House!

I mean, literary insiders knew I had a great agent, but everybody in the world knew how great Random House was! Did I go through all of this just to get a nibble from Random House? No, but I had to admit that the feeling was incredible.


Three days into my trip, my cell phone rang. It was my agent informing me that Random House was going to make an offer for Loon.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

The Writing of Loon: A Marine Story - Part 3



This is the third in a series of five reposts


The long flight home from my daughter's wedding in Thailand had me warmly reflecting and eagerly anticipating all at once. It was a magnificent jumble of feelings. Hours after the plane landed, I placed the Loon manuscript in the mail to my new editor in Indiana and begin a vigil by the mail slot of my Georgetown home - so eager was I for any criticism that would make me a better writer and Loon a better book.

The first third of the manuscript returned a month later. It was peppered with pencil marks, littered with arrows going from here to there, and filled with editorial and grammatical commentary. It was like the return of a so-so term paper...on steroids. I soaked up every mark and executed her every suggestion. It was incredible. She was in my head as surely as if she were a protagonist in the filmBeing John Malkovich.

We plowed forward for months and months - all by mail. She'd have an idea - I'd think it was terrific. I'd come up with something and she'd know exactly where it belonged. It was just about the most fun I'd ever had. It was an extremely satisfying process.

Meanwhile, I had gotten another job and, although determined to make this one work, my heart and soul remained in Loon. Despite honest effort, I was again shown the door a year later.

That summer, as my second daughter was being married, my editor and I knew that we were close to a finished product. She would send new comments every couple of months for my review. I'd throw them in my car and head to the Outer Banks where a Vietnam buddy had given me the use of his beach house in which to write. Many stories emerged from this editing period that taught me much about myself both as a person and as a writer.

Midway through my tour in Vietnam, for example, I was given 5 days of R&R in Singapore. I wrote detailed pages about the days leading up to it and the first several hours. I then skipped ahead three days to write about a newspaper story I'd seen. I then skipped to the flight back to Vietnam. The comment that came back from Indiana about this chapter?

"Your public AND your editor want to know exactly what happened during those first three days!"

Ouch. Why go there? Doesn't the reader have an imagination?

But, as usual, she was right. I sat down and wrote about the first three days in detail and soon found myself laughing out loud at my memories. Her suggestion ignited some of my very best writing.

Among the casualties of the editing process were my letters home. On the first pass, some were removed and others severely edited. As time went on, however, most disappeared and were replaced by prose. Although the letters were excellent source documents, my editor was clear that the reader would want more of my current writing. The manuscript that began with over 100 letters, now had but four, with three written by others.

By the end of 2007, we agreed that the manuscript was ready again for my agent. I took it to New York in January. The change from that which she had first seen exactly two years prior was palpable. She thought that there might now be a market, although Vietnam remained far off the national literary radar screen.
For the first time, Loon was out of my hands and into the marketplace. All involved agreed that it was a good story. All involved also agreed that it was very well written. It was now up to the market.

I had no job, was living full time above a friend's garage on the Outer Banks, but was at peace with both my accomplishment and my life.

Happiness is...


Having Sarah, Margaret, and John miss their Hong Kong connection from Maine and, thereby, be stranded here in 5B for a day!

Wonderful!

Here is a paparazzi shot of the happy trio returning from the requisite early morning visit to Gordberg's Bagels, caught walking across the Walgreens parking lot.