Never Take Advice From Someone Who Isn't Paying You

A Literal Literary Loses Goes Against the Grain

I didn’t like Pulitzer Prize winner, “The Goldfinch.” I thought it was 771 pages of nothing happening. I thought “We Need To Talk About Kevin” and “The Push” made it too obvious from the start that the kids were evil, and would have worked better with more ambiguity. I was enjoying “The Vanishing Half,” until the book just kind of… stopped. It didn’t end, it didn’t conclude, it just… ran out of pages.

If the authors of all the above best-sellers had given me their manuscripts to review prior to publication, that’s what I would have said - and more.

And I would have been wrong.

Because when it comes to what makes a compelling - more importantly, what makes a publishable - book, not only is it completely subjective, but, when it really comes down to it, nobody knows anything.

Which is why I don’t use beta readers. I don’t hire beta readers, I don’t do a beta-reader exchange. I don’t even let anyone outside the process see my manuscript prior to publication.

When it comes to feedback on my manuscript, I never take advice from anyone… unless they are giving me money.

Editors who’ve accepted my manuscript for publication, I listen to.

Agents who’ve accepted my manuscript for representation, I listen to.

Not because I think they’re infallible. If agents and editors were infallible, every single project they take on would be a best seller. And no one - but no one - has a track record like that.

I only rewrite what editors and agents tell me to rewrite because writing is a job. It’s not a calling, it’s not a holy crusade, it’s not personal fulfillment. It’s a job. And a job needs to come with money.

Otherwise it’s a hobby.

There’s nothing wrong with a hobby. I have plenty of hobbies. But writing is my job.

If I were to ask people who aren’t giving me money to critique my manuscript before I send it out to agents and editors, they might have some great advice. Or they might have some terrible advice.

But great and terrible in writing is relative. What’s great for one reader could be terrible for another. And vice versa.

If the goal is to get a book published with the hope of making money, then the only opinions that matters are those of the agents and editors who can help get your there.

Why? Because, unless you’re dealing with the unscrupulous predators who take money up front and make a profit regardless of whether or not your book sells, the only way agents and editors can make money is if you make money.

You are in this together. Except that they are also your bosses. Bosses can tell you what to do, and you are required to do it. Because that’s how you make money.

If an agent who has agreed to represent me tells me to make changes, I make them. If an editor who has given me an advance tells me to make changes, I make them.

Sometimes I agree with them. Sometimes I don’t. I either make them anyway, or I fight them. And then I make them anyway.

I realize their feedback is just opinions. No different from the opinions of any other person who might read the manuscript.

I could hand over my work to one hundred beta readers, and they might come back with one hundred different opinions on what I should change. (Two hundred, if the beta readers are Jewish. That’s an old cultural joke….)

How will I know which ones are valid? How will I know which ones to listen to? I could go insane, trying to cobble together a Franken-book that pleases every single person who has ever laid eyes on it. (Think of your all-time favorite author. Now think of that book of theirs that you just didn’t think was as good as the rest of their output. Everybody has one. No one is infallible. No one hits the bulls-eye every single time. As I said at the start, in publishing, nobody knows anything.)

Or I could narrow the list down and only listen to those who give me money. Rather than paying money for an opinion which, at the end, is no more or less valid than any other. (I am especially confused by the concept of writers’ groups. A dozen people who have never published a book talking about what does or doesn’t make another person’s book publishable? I did that all through college and it still confuses me, thirty years later. It was the blind leading the blind leading the blind into… where?)

It doesn’t necessarily make my books better. But it makes my life easier.

Oh, and it also makes me money.

Which buys me time… to write the next one. And start the punishing cycle all over again.