Blurbed Boundaries*
*I apologise profusely for the terrible pun. I am very tired.
As many of you know, I have had the most wonderful publishing experience. It’s been a dream. I’ve worked with fantastic people, had all the support I could possibly hope for, and to be honest it’s been the best thing I’ve ever done (recently overtaking the previous best thing I’ve ever done, which was running the New York Marathon in 2014). But there was one bit I really disliked, which was the asking for, then the waiting for (oh the waiting, no-one tells you about all the waiting!) other authors to read and blurb The List of Suspicious Things.
At that time I had no real appreciation of the amount of reading published authors are asked to do, on top of their own work. In my naive, self-absorbed way, I just imagined them receiving their proof of my novel, reading my heartfelt letter asking them to read, and starting it that day (or at the latest that weekend), probably finishing it a week or so later, then sending a carefully crafted quote to my editor immediately.
When that didn’t happen (OF COURSE IT DIDN’T) and the days after we sent out the first lot of proofs became weeks, then a month, I began to get anxious. I made up all sorts of stories. They hate the book, I thought. They hate me, I thought. And no-one dare tell me, hence the radio silence.
Yet I was one of the lucky ones. At least the people I (or my editor) asked to read had said yes. Eventually the quotes began to trickle in, and they were so generous, I was (and am) so grateful, but this experience led me to decide that once I became a published author myself I would read as many proofs as I could, especially those written by debuts, under-represented, or less well known authors. I didn’t want anyone to feel the way that I had felt, and this would be a way to give back.
At first, I kept to my commitment. I read fast anyway, and hey, I love books, so it was no hardship to say ‘yes’ to all the proofs I was offered and provide quotes for as many as I could. It is a privilege to be asked to read other authors work and what bookworm doesn’t love getting an early peek as well as free books? After a while I had to put together a spreadsheet to keep track of them, but that was OK, I love a spreadsheet too. I began reading to a schedule.
But then I started getting chased to see whether I could provide a quote by a deadline, and began to get anxious about how many I had to get through in a week. My proof eyes are bigger than my proof belly I discovered, and reading them had become a job in itself.
More recently still, it’s become impossible. During my busiest week in January I received 40 (yes, 40!) proof requests, and it was at this point something had to give. I already had more than I could possibly hope to read. I had to start saying no. And herein lies the problem. I’m just not very good at it.
The truth is that I want to read ALL THE BOOKS. And I want to support ALL THE AUTHORS. I also (perhaps most truthfully) want to please ALL THE PEOPLE. I have terrible boundaries. But I can’t. I now realise that all the authors I sent The List of Suspicious Things to were likely in the same situation, and I wonder that I got any blurbs at all.
This is on my mind this week, not only because I am in the middle of a massive overwhelm (see last weeks Substack) but because topic of blurbs has reared its head in the publishing discourse again this week with the decision by one Simon and Schuster imprint to dispense with them.
In response, one publishing person tweeted to her followers to see whether they made a difference to readers (not other publishing people) and to my surprise, the responses were overwhelmingly ‘yes, especially when coming from a writer I admire,’ though of course this is hardly a data driven study. A more robust perspective came from one of my fave Substacks,
Publishing Confidential which had me questioning whether we have passed peak blurb culture, but haven’t yet managed to replace it effectively. Maybe this move by Simon and Schuster might signal a much needed change.I know I benefited from the blurbs I got. So many brilliant, highly-respected authors read my novel and provided the most gorgeous quotes in support. I have also (mostly) loved all the proofs I’ve been sent (shout out here for Objects of Desire by Neil Blackmore which was the last proof I read and I ADORED it, it’s out in May, and I’ve been raving about it to everyone who will listen). So, in the meantime, I’m working through my own compromise.
When I am asked to take a proof now, I think long and hard about whether I am likely to read it, and if I do say yes, I am making it clear that I don’t know when I will get to read and if that’s an issue, not to send it to me (and not to chase me to read it). I don’t really like doing this. It feels icky. But ickier still has been the emails I’ve had to send this week explaining to people whose books I had hoped to read before publication, that it is unlikely I will get to them.
Here’s to a better way of doing things.
We have been talking A LOT about this issue! No proof that blurbs in isolation sell books but it's part of the promotional ecosystem - another indicator that a book is worth picking up. Opens doors to media coverage, events, other authors blurbing. Also: and rarely is this noted: gives added profile and creds to the writer who offers the blurb. The payment issue is also interesting. But what price?! And wouldn't that transaction negate some of the authenticity of the blurb itself? So many things to think about. Thanks for posting!
I have to say, I don't think I've ever been noticeably influence by a blurb. A _recommendation_ from an author I know, on their social media or a podcast or whatever, regularly brings me to books I never would have heard of otherwise. But once a book is actually in my hand, it's the description and the first few pages that make up my mind.