The Book Proposal as Guide: Pinpointing Purpose and Readership

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Book proposals are usually submitted in lieu of an entire manuscript for non-fiction books rather than novels or memoirs. But they can also be used effectively in restructuring an original manuscript or directing a disorganized first attempt at a narrative.

In my last post, From Life Story to Memoir, I described the first steps of transforming a life story/autobiography into a focused memoir. These steps—preliminary to the book proposal— included: identification (and if necessary a complete rethinking) of the major themes of the narrative; identification of the bedrock scenes—in my client’s book, both medical and personal—that would carry the revised story; alternating those scenes/chapters to create tension between high points and low; and repeated tinkering with the table of contents (TOC) of the original manuscript. The final step at that point was to identify a new starting point, one that would show the main character in the middle of an important (but not the most important) event.

Now, what to do with the new starting point and the evolving TOC?  Our agent Claire was already moving towards the idea of doing the book proposal, but I still struggled (with little success) to wrest the original manuscript into a significantly different book. The new plan added two elements of the book proposal:

  • Do a knock-out sample chapter (preferably chapter one)  that shows the main character at a critical moment, revealing a major conflict or theme (in our case, this meant showing the doctor at the top of his game and confronting an adversary in the OR);
  • Create an overview of the book, snagging the editor with a description of a dramatic scene and summarizing the main events and themes.

One last last point Claire emphasized was to focus on the editor not the imagined reader. Make each sentence crystal clear. Use powerful language that reflects the book’s uniqueness and appeal (in our case, “high-stakes”; “groundbreaking”; “game changer”; “pioneering”) and which in turn signals the main theme(s).

That new starting point, coupled with a new Chapter 1, was an important breakthrough, because, again, throughout the early process it had been very difficult to break away from the original chronology and structure of the work. See below two different versions of the book’s TOC and opening chapter. Note how chapter one in the restructured version starts in the middle of an important event.

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Original TOC in Scrivener, starting at the beginning in a straightforward chronological account of a life.

 

Binder Screen Shot 2
The revised TOC; the new first chapter opens with a dramatic moment near the height of the author/protagonist’s career.

The Book Proposal as Guide to a Rewrite

With those steps out of the way and a rough idea of the new direction, Claire now suggested we carry on with a formal book proposal that she could submit to publishers.

So that you understand how the book proposal can serve as an outline/guide for a rewrite, I should mention its important elements here. There are many sources for writing a book proposal. (I love the example at the back of Jeff Herman’s Guide to Book Publishers, Editors, and Literary Agents. Or check out his Write the Perfect Book Proposal with Deborah Levine.) All of them include the following:

  • Title Page: Make that title sing.
  • Overview: Grab the editor’s attention with 3-4 succinct pages of your story/concept.
  • Author Bio: Why are you ideal to write this book?
  • Marketing Section: Who will buy this book?
  • Competition Section: Half a dozen titles of books similar to yours and why yours is unique.
  • Promotion Section: Which outlets/platforms will be appropriate to publicize this book?
  • Chapter Outline: The meat of the proposal, tentatively titled and clearly abstracted.
  • Sample Chapter(s): Yes, the editor will see that you can really write and tell a story.

The book proposal turned out to be the key to restructuring the book. It forced me to know— and hew to—the genre of the book much more strictly; to hone the message and theme of the book and carry them through the entire story;  and to identify and then write for a much more defined readership. Not that it all came together like clockwork. It was sometimes a scattershot process, moving back and forth between sections.

Whether you want to attempt a formal book proposal or not, working through the points below as you revise (or write) your book will help you know where you are going with it.

The First Chapter

The new first chapter set the process in motion. Following Claire’s advice to start with a major event, I tackled a scene over halfway through the original manuscript, one that had originally been a paragraph long. It was a surgery during which another surgeon walked out. The scene represented a major turning point for my client. I had interviewed the doctor extensively the first time around; now I interviewed him again. I interviewed the fellow (as in fellowship) who had assisted him. I researched the pioneering spinal surgery technique they had used and made sure I understood it. I delved into the details of the surgery and OR environment—my genre was now the medical memoir, mind you, and I needed to really beef up the specifics.

Just as importantly, I changed exposition to dialogue (a separate post coming on this! Hugely important.) This new chapter was significantly different in tone, style, and pace from the original manuscript. This chapter firmly belonged to a medical memoir. I began to see the enormity of my task.

The Overview

With a sample chapter under my belt and progress made on the TOC, I tackled the overview. This was not to be a straightforward task. My starting point was the event in the sample chapter I had written. When Claire decided the overview (and thus the book) should start with another surgery—the one that had catapulted my client to superstar status—I wrote out that chapter as well. At times Claire would like one aspect of the original manuscript and ask me to bring it forward. At other times, she would decide it was not very important and suggest I drop it. After three or four months, she deemed the overview still “a little dry.” We needed more drama. We needed “to build excitement.” The first two pages had to be “seamless” and “dramatic.” Through my exasperation, I came to realize that this was all part of the process. All part of a deep fashioning of the story through thinking and rethinking its most dramatic and meaningful themes, scenes, and total arc.

The Competition

All during this time I was working on other sections, among the most important the competition section. There is no way around knowing what other books like yours have been published. There is no way around reading some of them. I read five or six medical memoirs (taking note of how and to what extent the authors worked in their backstories). I read reviews of these books and others. Claire thought some of the books I had chosen to summarize were too old and had me research newer titles—it’s best to see what is current in your genre. For each title I had to determine what set it apart and more importantly how my client’s book was unique. By the time Claire gave me the thumbs up on it, I had a much stronger idea of the genre and the readership we were trying to attract.

The Chapter Outline

At last, the most daunting task of all. Above, I wrote about using Scrivener to begin the restructuring process. I had created tentative chapter folders for the new version based on the revised TOC.  I had two new chapters for the new beginning of the book—these formed the new “present” of the narrative, from which I could move the main narrative forward in time and flash back to earlier important scenes. I had an idea of the scenes I wanted to keep from the original manuscript and scenes I needed to build from existing anecdotes, and I began to populate my chapter folders with these scenes.

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Populating the chapter folders with scenes. This allowed me to create chapter outlines for the book proposal, a task very difficult to do without a finished manuscript.

Creating the chapter outline without an existing manuscript was messy. The order and content of the chapters would change once the rewriting began in earnest. But through this process the narrative arc emerged. So did capsules of the main events. All that remained was to write two to three succinct paragraphs about each chapter—no mean feat. (My first drafts had whole pages or more for each chapter. Happily, what I cut from the chapter summaries in the book proposal came in handy in helping me build the scenes for the rewrite in Scrivener.)

The Rewrite

The rewrite was certainly not the simple reshuffling of chapters and scenes that I had originally imagined. The rewrite was indeed a REWRITE. But the process of preparing for and writing the book proposal, which took the better part of 2015, had laid all the groundwork. In January, 2016 I began writing out the next chapters. Mid February Claire submitted the proposal to an Indie publisher. Mid March my client had a contract—and I had a deadline of August. I wrote chapters. I axed chapters. I moved chapters around. I anguished over integrating flashbacks. I went down multiple wrong paths. But I had to stick to the TOC and the chapter outline we had sent in. In the end, I finished writing roughly twenty chapters of an essentially different book between March and August.

What about you? Have you been stuck with the direction your story is taking? With where to start or what to include? Are you rewriting your story? How have you approached this task? I would love to hear!

 

The Vexing Task of Settling on a Book Title

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Perhaps my favorite book title of all time.

I met with my client yesterday to review the third version of the book proposal for his medical memoir. This time we went over the chapter summaries, which I had significantly reworked and beefed up to create a better sense of how the completed narrative will flow. We are hopeful that this one will be the clincher, and that our editor/agent will put her stamp of approval on it. But if it does pass final muster, we will face the daunting task of deciding on a subtitle that might instantly hook some editor’s interest, and make that gatekeeper to publication read on.

I was reminded that all authors struggle with this task by a post on a blog I follow, Writer Unboxed, appropriately entitled  “Untitled,” by author Anne Greenwood Brown. I plan to go back to this post and try out some of the amusing techniques she tested in her own endeavors to come up with a title for a new book. Just to give you a hint of what those techniques might involve, think algorithms.

The good doctor and I have been thinking about subtitles for over a year now, having agreed long ago on a title for the original manuscript, one we will keep now for the new book. To come up with that main title, I had researched extensively the titles of new releases from major publishers. I noted the convention of using one or two key words in the main title, and threw out some possibilities. My client did not like my first choice among all the suggestions that referenced his profession as a spinal neurosurgeon. But his wife loved it, and so did the editor, and he finally came around. The double meaning of the word is what clinched it; it is a word that very effectively evokes not only the author’s profession but also his values and the character strengths that allowed him to overcome great adversity in his youth.

Now, before I reveal that main title, and give you a chance to weigh in on a subtitle, let me run a few of the early contenders for title by you. Remember, my client, the ostensible author of this medical memoir, is an internationally known and respected spinal neurosurgeon who contributed significantly to the evolution of his profession. So for starters we played with the word “spine,” another word that suggests courage or strength of character. The subtitle (included on the first example below) reflected the original trajectory of the life story, from birth until reaching the height of his career. That subtitle won’t work for the reworked medical memoir. Hence, our search for a new subtitle. Here are those early candidates for title:

Early Contenders for Title

  1. Spine: A Journey From Refugee to Neurosurgeon
  2. A Spine Man
  3. A Strong Spine
  4. Spine and Spirit
  5. Spine and Soul
  6. Anatomy of a Spine Surgeon
  7. The Miracle Spine
  8. The Balanced Spine
  9. The Whole Spine and Nothing but the Spine
  10. The Honest Spine
  11. The True Spine
  12. The Straight Spine
  13. The Proud Spine
  14. Nothing But Spine
  15. The Spinemaster
  16. The Stalwart Spine
  17. Spine

Well, we eventually ditched the word “spine.” And, whether or not it was simply my repeating to him endlessly my own preference, my author decided, after enthusiastic reactions from friends, family, and the editor, to go with my suggestion. The working title is (drum-roll) . . . BACKBONE.

Now however, we are stymied over the selection of an appropriate subtitle, one that hints at the career of a spinal neurosurgeon who made game-changing contributions to the evolution of spinal neurosurgery. Some of our current attempts are below.

Current Contenders for Subtitle

  1. Backbone: Tales from the Dawn of Spinal Neurosurgery
  2. Backbone: Adventures in Spinal Neurosurgery
  3. Backbone: Pioneering Neurosurgical Inroads to the Spine
  4. Backbone: A Near Decapitation, a Summons from a Queen, and Other Tales from the Annals of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  5. Backbone: Changing the Face of Neurosurgery, One Vertebra at a Time
  6. Backbone: The Inspired Life of a Neurosurgeon
  7. Backbone: One Neurosurgeon’s Courageous Quest to Conquer the Spine
  8. Backbone: A Neurosurgeon’s Memoir of Brains, Bones, and Battles with the Spine
  9. Backbone: The Triumphs and Defeats of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  10. Backbone: The Making of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  11. Backbone: A (Spinal) Neurosurgeon’s Journey, One Vertebra at a Time
  12. Backbone: Courage, Hope, Hard Work and Other Timeless Tools in the Trade of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  13. Backbone: A Tool in the Trade of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  14. Backbone: Scaling the Heights of Spinal Neurosurgery in Game-changing Times
  15. Backbone: A (Neurosurgeon’s) Story of Breaking Barriers between Brain and Spine
  16. Backbone: The Life and Game-Changing Career of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  17. Backbone: The Struggles and Triumphs of a Spinal Neurosurgeon
  18. Backbone: Twists, Turns, and Triumphs on the Road of a Spinal Neurosurgeon

So, is your mind all agog now? Or perhaps it’s numb. Mine sure is. But I’d love to hear your take on the subtitle in the comments section. Give me your top five choices from the above list, or  if you would like to submit your own subtitle—or even suggestions for an entirely new title—I welcome all efforts heartily. Happy Wordsmithing!

The Ever-Extending Publishing Timeframe

Manuscript

The Book’s going to Be Published When?

It’s been nearly three years since I accepted the challenge of ghostwriting a life story for a client. Now, with numerous revisions and versions and one failed publication deal under my belt, I realize three grave mistakes that, had I avoided them, would have made my experience a little easier.

I wrote on my previous blog Memoir Crafter of an early difficulty I encountered in developing the structure of the story, that being the differing expectations of my client and his wife. My client simply wanted his “story to be heard.” His wife wanted a “legacy for the family.” So, what was this book going to be, autobiography or memoir?

With such a basic compass, by late 2013 I had produced a 97,000-word manuscript that my client was pleased with. It told his life story in a straightforward, chronological fashion, from postwar refugee to immigrant to renowned spinal neurosurgeon. I did a short (four months) agent search, got a dozen respectable rejections and one good bite from a New York agent, who also passed on it. All along, I kept hearing similar comments about the book’s genre being amorphous, and about the difficulty of publishing what was essentially an autobiography.

With a Little Help from My Friends (Sigh)

In stepped a good friend, a dear friend, a friend whose generosity knows no bounds. She suggested she push the book with the independent publisher for whom she edited mostly YA fiction, and with whom she had developed a close friendship. It wasn’t exactly the right kind of publisher, but it was one with a decent stable of authors. Time was passing. My client hungered for that physical manifestation of his story. On his approval, I relayed his acceptance of the publisher’s offer mid- 2014 and off we went. We were all set to hold book in hand by late 2014 or the spring of 2015.

While we were finalizing the contract and working with a designer on the cover of the book, the publisher recommended my client find a publicist. That was a ball out of left field, but I did a search and found what looked like a good one in New York. The publicist and I clicked over the phone. She read the entire manuscript (on her own time), provided suggestions for some broad edits, sketched out a proposal for a promotional campaign, and came to an agreement with my client. All that remained was to put the publicist in contact with whomever was going to handle promotion at the publisher. That, it turned out, would be my friend.

We’re Friends, What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

Things seemed to be moving along, but I was a little concerned. I had never even talked to the publisher, who, from the stories I had heard, seemed mercurial at times regarding her business. All I knew about her was that my friend had fallen into editing for her when my friend’s own book got picked up some years earlier. At various stages along the way my friend even seemed to be in a kind of mentoring relationship with this woman who was paying her to edit all submissions.

And, though she knew a great deal about “grassroots” efforts, promotion was not exactly a specialty of my friend’s. She had been feeding me guidelines for months on what to do for my client: set up readings at public libraries; contact local media and newspapers for interviews; hawk the book at book fairs, and a dozen other labor-intensive activities. But did she know how to work with a professional publicist? It was the publisher, after all, who recommended my client go that route. At any rate, I was relieved that my client was willing to invest in a publicist. The emails my friend was sending me about the process were so long they made my head spin.

At the end of the year,  I decided it was time to offload this piece of the project to the two parties concerned: the publicist and the publisher. I provided email addresses and phone numbers to all concerned: the publicist, the owner/publisher and my friend the editor.

Stop the Presses!

A few days later, I received a frantic voice mail from the publicist followed by an equally frantic email. Who was this publisher, she wanted to know. Who exactly was in charge of book promotion? She deemed the publisher a backwater start-up not far removed from a Print-On-Demand operation. She resented my poor friend’s suggestions, in the form of mammoth emails; she deemed them geared for do-it-yourself authors and entirely unsuitable for the professional she was . She felt my client’s book warranted something better. She could not work with this publisher. She highly recommended my client and I  back out of the contract.

Of course I had to relay this happy news to my client. And to my friend. My client was gracious about it, though he had to pay a fee for breaking the contract. My friend was gracious too, but had to deal with the disappointment of the publisher. The two of them eventually parted ways over it.

Silver Linings?

That took place at the end of 2014. It was a setback, but now we were free to move the whole process to a new, hopefully more commercial level. That began in earnest when the publicist recommended a professional editor to my client, who approved the next step.  I began to work with this editor in February.

So, where is the book at this point? In transition. That very first problem with genre never did go away. The editor sees an entirely different kind of book from the one I originally wrote. She wants to sell a straight medical memoir, not some hybrid of immigrant story cum medical memoir. The prospect of deconstructing the existing manuscript and, Frankenstein-like, creating a new creature from the necessary dismemberment, is both disheartening and galvanizing.

Stay tuned for notes and lessons learned from the major operation now underway!