Cover Story


“Hey, do you get to pick the cover?”

If you write books for a living, you’ve probably been asked that once or twice. 

It’s a funny one to answer, because the answer is yes and no. 

Why the answer is Yes:

Because – speaking from my own experience – coming up with a jacket design is often a respectful process wherein your editor acts as a go-between, shows you a potential cover (sometimes more than one), solicits your opinion, and would never force you to live with a cover you’re dead-set against.

Why the answer is No:

Because there’s a lot that goes into jacket design that doesn’t really involve the author. The art department usually drafts up a few options, while editorial and marketing people weigh in.  And sometimes “outside” forces weigh in, too.  Example: For the UK edition of The Other Typist, my publisher had settled on a cover, but Waterstones – one of Britain’s largest retailers of books – expressed a preference for the American cover, so my publisher went with that in the end.  So, the author is really just one decider among many.

American cover:

UK cover they didn’t wind up using:

(I should probably mention that the "shout-line" -- that bit that reads, "When friendship becomes obsession..." etc -- was always only a placeholder. I think they'd planned to ultimately put a blurb there).

In my opinion, the email containing a PDF of your potential future cover is one of the most exciting emails an author can receive.  You see that email in your inbox, and it’s like, “Ooooo, exciting!”  It’s a bit odd, when you think about it.  I mean, this is the part of a book an author can’t really take any credit for.  But then, perhaps it’s not so odd, because in opening that email, you are opening the gift of someone else’s creativity, that will forever be linked to yours.  It's also a little like, SURPRISE!!!!

So far, I’ve been really lucky.  Here are my cover stories: 

The woman who designed the cover for The Other Typist did an amazing job.  She also turned out to be really nice.  Publishers don’t always make a point of introducing you to the person doing your cover – don’t ask me why.  You wind up seeing their name on the flap of your book, “Jacket design by X.”  But Lisa Amoroso, the woman who designed my cover, came to one of the events for the book and introduced herself.  I really loved that she did, because it gave me a chance to thank her for being awesome.  People were giving me compliments on the jacket design and I was thinking to myself, “These really need to be forwarded on to the person who deserves them.” 

Now I’ve got a new novel coming out in April, called Three-Martini Lunch.  The book takes place in the world of 1950s publishing, to give you a really basic idea of the mood/theme. There were a few potential jacket designs, and I thought I’d share them with you here. 

The first one was a photograph – a really, really pretty photograph: 

three martini lunch_102215_Page_1.jpg


I certainly thought this cover looked pretty and the designer did a nice job, so the fact that I didn’t wind up wanting this for my cover was no reflection on quality.  I just wasn’t sure it totally fit with my book.  Quite a few of my characters are beatniks, bohemians living in crappy apartments, running around Greenwich Village boozing it up.  I thought I maybe needed a grittier cover.  My agent and I were also hankering for a very retro illustrated cover.  

The kind, responsive art department came up with these three illustrated covers:

The third one above is the "almost final" cover.  The final design is still being tweaked.  I'll post the final cover on when it's ready, but I thought it would be interesting to blog about the ongoing process here.  

Now, this is the cover process from the author's point of view, and I'd say far more interesting than any of this is the cover process from the designer's point of view.  Linda Huang wrote a great blog entry on LitHub, describing this process when she designed the paperback cover for Jenny Offill's Dept of Speculation.  Read about it here and marvel at the 30 different covers Huang created!  That's a lot of covers.  And yes, to answer your question: More often than not, books have separate hardcover and paperback designs.  May I just say? -- Let us raise a glass to the hardworking jacket designers of the world!


The Mysteries of Hollywood, Part 2 - Film Option Renewed

Previously, I wrote a blog entry about having my novel, The Other Typist optioned by Fox Searchlight Pictures and Keira Knightley

I made a lot of jokes about how, as a writer, you get all excited, you sign the contract, and then… wait around… and wait around some more.   

The moving parts that go into green-lighting a film project are many.  A screenwriter is needed.  A director is needed.  The studio needs to sign actors they believe will get folks to the box office.  (Relevant aside: Actors have lives, too.  Someone integral to the project might, I dunno, get married and have a baby.  Or go make a mega-blockbuster action film that interferes, or... any number of things can come up.)

I'm no expert on any of that, and all I know is that most novelists don’t really have much to do with the development process.  You get the occasional thoughtful check-in courtesy call, but in my experience, that’s about it.  In the meanwhile, people will offer all kinds of advice and ask you all kinds of questions – questions to which you don’t have the answer.  These questions and comments may include things like: “Hey, can I be in the movie?” or, “When does it come out?  Will it be playing in my town?” or, “Hey, my mom thinks {fill-in-Hollywood-actress’s name here} would make a really good Odalie.” 

I can’t really answer or respond to most of those questions and remarks, because to tell the truth, I spend my days hiding in my little hole, writing my next novel, and I have no idea what they are doing out there in Hollywood. 

But I will say, I just got an email tonight with the news that they’re renewing the film option thru May 2017.  So that was a nice little check-in.

Will there be a film version of the The Other Typist in the near future?  Who knows!  If there’s one thing I can say for Hollywood, it’s that they certainly know their way around suspense. 


And now, back I go to do some more writing in my little Hobbit hole…

Orphaned Authors

A: Knock-knock.

B: Who’s there? 

A: Orphaned Author. 

B: Orphaned Author who? 


The joke above popped into my head unbidden a few weeks ago.  I texted it – inappropriately, perhaps – to a friend of mine who is an orphaned author, and has, well… not really enjoyed being an orphaned author. 

What is an orphaned author, you ask?  And why would it suck to be one? 

An orphaned author is an author whose book has been bought by a particular editor at a particular publishing house, only to have that editor quit, leave, retire, fill-in-the-blank-what-have-you, and be indisposed when the book in question is published. 

Why does it suck?  Well, it can suck for a number of reasons.  For my friend, it sucked because it was his debut novel that was being published (already an experience that can be daunting, and that brings a writer into uncharted territory). 

An editor who’s investing in your book really gets in there, you see.  They go through the torturous work of making sure the manuscript is up to snuff, working with you through multiple editorial rounds.  Then they fight for other people within the publishing house to read your manuscript, and fall in love with it – just like they did.  And finally, they metaphysically hold your hand as the publishing house sends you off into the Great Big Scary World, AKA your book tour, or what-have-you.

A book’s success depends upon the people who get behind it.  If these people have no clue who you are or what you wrote about, and/or don’t care, well… you’re pretty much sunk.  For a debut author in particular, this can make or break a career.  As readers, if you ever come across a wonderful debut novel and think to yourself, “Why haven’t I heard of this?” well… the answer is likely some combination of bad timing and ineffective media outlets… and sometimes a lack of enthusiasm from within the publishing house that published it.  I mean, it happens.  Resources are precious, and in publishing – a field that is in the midst of some serious growing pains – there are not enough to go around. 

All this is to say my friend, the debut author, has legitimate reason to begrudge his orphan status.  It’s seriously stressful.  You, as authors, really have no control over this.  Your job is to sit back and be gracious, and, of course, “write the best book you can write.”  Stay positive and do everything you can to promote you book, and no matter if it succeeds or fails, try not to point fingers, because it’s likely you don’t know what happened during those in-house launch meetings (the meetings publishers hold when they determine when to publish and how to market your book), and, quite frankly, it’s better that you don’t. 

Why did this silly joke pop into my head the other day?  Because I am an orphaned author.  My editor (and publisher) was Amy Einhorn.  She bought my second novel on behalf of Penguin/Putnam/Amy Einhorn Books.  And last August, she moved to Flatiron Books/St. Martin’s. 

I was, admittedly, frantic when I learned of the news. 

Have you heard of Amy Einhorn?  She is a force to be reckoned with.  When she launched her eponymous imprint, she hit it out of the park with her first title… a little book you might’ve heard of, called The Help, by Katherine Stockett.  Reporters have written profiles about Amy in Gotham Magazine and The Observer.  Amy makes books succeed in a climate where, hey – let’s admit it – books ain’t doing so well.  It is her job to make lightning hit the same spot twice, and she’s damned good at it.  When she left, I was understandably panicked. 

Enter Jake Morrissey, my new editor. 

To be clear, this is an appreciation piece, so if you are not in the mood for my grateful Pollyanna chatter, best to click away now.  But if you are an author who would like to hear a surprisingly upbeat message about the bloodsport that is writing, by all means, keep on scrolling. 

My new novel, Three Martini Lunch, was a very ambitious undertaking.  It takes place during the 1950s, and is written in three stylized voices from the era.  Oh, did I forget to mention, there are three first-person narrators?  The book takes on Greenwich Village, beatniks, jazz, the publishing biz, race, class, sex, gender, sexual orientation… and plenty of other things I’m already too exhausted to try to list off.  As a writer, I was trying to stretch myself with this book.  I sold it to Amy because I trusted her to guide me through the inevitable madness that I knew would descend upon me in trying to write this book.  And we were in early editorial stages when Amy left. 

Lots of things could’ve happened.  I could’ve gotten paired up with an editor who didn’t give a damn, who only made the lightest of editorial comments, let the manuscript go to the publisher without a second thought.  But luckily enough, I got Jake. 

One of Jake’s recent successes is Marlon James’s A Brief History of Seven Killings.  If you haven’t read it or at least googled it yet, you really should.  Michiko Kakutani named it one of the top 10 books for 2014, and for good reason. 

Anyway, back to my point: Jake rolled up his sleeves, gave me comments, read and re-read, and gave me comments again.  He was patient, he was insightful and tireless, and all for a book that he didn’t technically acquire!  Dear Reader, let me tell you: This is not always the way things work out. 

So, the long and the short of it is being an orphaned author has worked out OK for me so far.  Instead of just getting one great editor’s input, I got two (wow, pressure’s on me now for this book to be good, I guess).  Amy certainly put her two cents in early on, and I am super grateful to her.  And Jake added to this concoction and helped both me and my book find our way out of the dark and into the light.  I can't actually imagine getting the book to the place where I wanted without BOTH of them.  So I guess I'm lucky in the end.  Not to mention greedy.

I’m really only halfway through this process – there’s still the question of whether or not the book will be popular in-house, and whether the PR/marketing people will get behind it and "do their thing."  But my last experience with the Penguin/Putnam team was 100% positive, so there is solid reason to hope it will be again. 

For now, I’m just grateful that as an orphaned author, Jake did not hang me out to dry.  Instead, he worked quite hard with me on my edits, helped me to make my second novel the book I wanted it to be, and I feel not so much orphaned as adopted. 

With any luck, by this time next year, you’ll have heard of my book. 

When Your Novel Goes to Hollywood

This one could also be titled “When Your Novel Runs Away to Hollywood Without You.”  Because, generally speaking, I don’t think most people realize how little a novelist has to do with what happens after she sells the film rights to her book.  "Do this-or-that!" your friends and family will tell you.  "Have so-and-so direct, have so-and-so star," perfect strangers will offer, apropos of nothing.  Great, I think, but while I would like to know more about filmmaking, I am not a filmmaker.  I am a nerdy, bookish, shut-in novelist, period.  There are exceptions to this rule, of course.  Gillian Flynn is a great example of one such exception; a former TV writer, Flynn sold the rights to Gone Girl but remained part of the project, writing the screenplay.  In my experience, and in my opinion, Flynn is a rare animal, in that she is a novelist who also seems to know her way around Hollywood. 

I, by contrast, know squat.  So when there was film interest in my book, I happily took a backseat and let my two agents advise me.  That’s the first thing I learned: in New York, we have these folks called literary agents.  They take aspiring writers’ manuscripts and sell them to publishers.  In L.A., they call that a “book agent.”  A “literary agent,” according to them, is someone who sells your book to a studio or production company.  My literary agent (in Hollywood’s parlance) is a very cheerful and energetic woman who works for Creative Artists Agency in L.A.  I saw her once or twice out here in New York, and visited her once at CAA in L.A. – in an intimidatingly large, echoing office complex where I sat in a waiting room across from Jeremy Renner and stared at my shoes as I waited for an assistant to come down and bring me upstairs. 

Mostly, though, the whole process went like this: My CAA agent asked a lot of questions (“Do you have any casting ideas?  Favorite directors?  Favorite screenwriters?  Specific demands about rights or credit?  Preferences over this-or-that?").  I’m not sure I came up with smart-sounding answers, but nonetheless, once we chatted she was off and running.  I got the impression that this is the novelist’s role: Come to the table with ideas and energy, but also know when to get out of the way. 

I also learned that things in Hollywood have to reach a sort of critical mass to sell.  It’s like a math – or, really, chemistry – equation.  This director plus that production company.  That actor plus this studio.  In my case, Fox Searchlight acquired the option on my book as a vehicle for Keira Knightley, who is attached and will be given executive producer credit.  Once we agreed to the deal, they were very careful about when and how they announced it, so there was a period during which I wasn’t supposed to post my news anywhere (argh! so tough!).  I’m still not sure why this was so (legalities? generating buzz? I don’t know), but I complied. 

Now… what I’ve sold is the option to make a film, using my book as source material.  Will they absolutely, 100% make that movie?  Hopefully, but it’s not set in stone.  Tons of books get optioned only to sit idle on the shelf, so it’s one of those situations wherein it’s good to have hope, but not expectations.  Once a book has been optioned, your book must once again achieve another state of critical mass: studio plus producer plus actors plus screenwriter plus director.  Director – that last one is key.  And according to the executives who I spoke to at Fox Searchlight, they like to foster auteur directors, and build the picture around that; the director is the deciding factor for them. 

I’ve been told there’s a screenwriter, and a script in progress, so that’s very encouraging.  And when one of the Searchlight execs came to town, she met with me, and we had a good talk.  She was full of ideas and energy, and was very enthusiastic. 

Legally and financially speaking… for those writers who don’t know how it works: When a film studio options your book, they pay a flat fee to buy a period of time (usually between 12-18 months) during which they can exercise the option to develop your book into a film.  If the film moves forward, they then pay you the “purchase price” – generally a set percentage of the overall project film budget.  They also usually have an option to renew this option for a set price.  “Development hell” or “development limbo” is the nickname given to that period of time after the book (or screenplay, concept, idea, etc) has been optioned but before it has gone into production. 

Will The Other Typist reach that state of critical mass I mention?  It would be difficult to say for sure.  Lev Grossman, author of the NYT bestselling The Magicians trilogy, blogs brilliantly about the highs and lows of having his book’s pilot passed over during pilot season.  But don’t despair!  Grossman’s book-turned-TV-series is alive and well and getting picked up by SyFy, so there’s a happy ending to that story. 

Am I happy that a company like Fox Searchlight optioned The Other Typist?  Hell yeah!  Searchlight, if you haven’t noticed, has been doing wonderful, award-winning, admirable films, and seems to be in the midst of a golden-age renaissance… just thinking about the last decade or so, from Juno to Slumdog Millionaire to Black Swan to Beasts of the Southern Wild to 12 Years a Slave… these are all movies I’ve loved and feel like were made with integrity and passion.  Am I glad Keira Knightley read the book and got involved?  Also, hell yeah.  She has a track record of making smart, meticulous-yet-adventurous choices when it comes to picking projects, and I am very honored by her involvement. 

For now, I think I will end this blog post on this happy, hopeful note.  I wait, on the sidelines, to see what will happen.  And in the meantime, I spend my time throwing myself into the world of my second novel.