As August comes to an end and September looms, transitions are on the forefront of everyone’s minds. Kids go back to school, leaves start to fall, the scorching heat of summer gives way to pleasantly cool breezes and stormy nights, and another batch of post-its shifts into the overdue pile on my Infamous Wall of Post-it Deadlines. But there’s also something exciting in the wind: REUTS Publications will be open to submissions again!

One more time for the people in the back:

Starting tomorrow, REUTS will once again be open to submissions!

Our brief hiatus from the slush pile is over, and the doors will be flung wide. We’ve been working behind the scenes to create an improved submissions process, and we’re eager to test it out. It’s more automated, more streamlined, and should help dramatically improve the response times. You will have to create an account, but don’t worry, it’s completely FREE. And it absolutely will not be used to spam you unnecessarily. You’ll receive correspondence pertaining to your submission and nothing more. You have our promise on that.

**For those of you still waiting to hear from us, please be patient. We’re working our way through the list and should be in touch shortly. You do not have to resubmit.**

What should you expect from this shiny new system? Well, everything you expected before, just better.

• Wait times for queries (and hopefully full manuscripts) should be significantly shorter
• We will still respond with a personalized response to each and every query (a lack of response does NOT equal “no”)
• We will still accept manuscripts without agent representation (but we’re always happy to see agent submissions as well)
• We’ll give you an insider look at our tastes and thoughts via #REUTSsubs and this weekly blog post series

So, all in all, sounds pretty good, right? We’re excited about it; hopefully you are as well. #REUTSsubs will be kicking off this week, so be sure to watch my twitter feed (@kisawhipkey) if you want to catch those in real time, otherwise, the first compilation post will go live next Monday. But for now, I’ll give you a little preview of what we’re looking for, the official REUTS Publications Manuscript Wishlist, as it were. We’re always open to anything that falls within the YA or NA category, but these are specific requests from our acquisitions panel.

• New twists on paranormal creatures (bonus points for vampires or zombies)
• Dark fantasy in the vein of Uprooted by Naomi Novik or Fire by Kristin Cashore
• Thriller/Suspense (think Gone Girl for a YA audience)
• Intricate, multi-layered narratives a la Inception or The Memory Painter by Gwendolyn Womack
• Science Fiction (space opera or soft sci-fi, specifically)
• Dystopian in the style of Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard or Legend by Marie Lu
• Mythology/Fairy Tale infused fantasy (Preferably not urban fantasy or paranormal romance)
• Gothic fantasy and/or romance (Jane Eyre by Emily Bronte, Dracula by Bram Stoker, and The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux are personal favorites of the team)
• Historical fiction (any time or place, as long as it’s accurate)
• Contemporary fiction (romance is fine, but not required)
• Paranormal satire in the style of Christopher Moore

Remember, those are specific requests, and they certainly aren’t the only things we look for. So if I didn’t list your genre, but you feel like it could still be a good fit, go ahead and submit! We’d love to see it. After all, our next favorite read might be in a genre I haven’t listed above. All we ask is that it be original, innovative, well-written, and contain emotional resonance. How you achieve those things is entirely up to you.

— Kisa Whipkey
Acquisitions & Editorial Director

The post Adventures in the Slush Pile: 8/31/15 Edition appeared first on REUTS | Boutique Book Publisher |.

Queries. Pitches. Synopses. Three words that strike fear into every author’s heart. And rightfully so — selling your book to an agent or editor depends on your ability to encapsulate your story’s heart into a few simple sentences. For most people, that’s a nearly impossible challenge. But perhaps if we look at why this practice is necessary, it will help you understand how to do it. So, for my first installment in this new series, I’m going to show you what I look for in a query. Keep in mind these are solely my opinions, and other agents or editors may look for something else, but if you plan to follow along with #REUTSsubs this next week, this will give you a glimpse at the thought process behind my decisions.

Let’s start by looking at the three potential ways you go about introducing your work to an agent or editor. They are:

1. The Traditional Query Letter & Synopsis
2. Pitching in Person
3. Elevator Pitches on Social Media

All three serve the same purpose — hooking your audience into asking for more. That’s a phrase I’m sure you’ve all heard thrown around in writing seminars, but what does it actually mean? In essence, it means you break through someone’s focus enough to grab their full, complete attention and get them to react. In other words, it’s a sales tactic.

Now, I know many of you just groaned. Sales is about as far from writing and creativity as you could possibly get. But the truth is, publishing is a business. There are bottom lines to be met, production costs to worry about, returns on investments that have to happen, etc. So when you send in a proposal (which, let’s face it, is what these things really are — sales proposals), what you’re really doing is arguing why we should become your business partner for this venture. And you’d darn well better be convincing. Don’t you think?

So, how do you achieve that? What makes a sales proposal appealing to the potential buyer? How do you turn indifference into “OMG, yes, I must read this”? Well, I look for a couple of key ingredients:

• Interesting concept and premise
• Unique attributes
• Market Potential

That’s it. Every time. Seriously.

Whenever I’m reviewing a pitch/query/etc, I ask myself the same three questions:

“Does this make me excited as a reader?” (This is more of a visceral reaction than a true question. Basically, I’m looking for that internal pique of interest, that “oooooo” factor.)

“What makes it different from everything else in its genre?” (The more specific the better on this front. Diverse cast? Unique twist or angle on the familiar? New setting?)

“What is it similar to/where would I put it on a shelf?” (This is ultimately the most important because it tells me a: where it fits within the REUTS catalog, and b: where it fits in the larger market and who its readership might be.)

All right, now let’s look at how you apply that insight, shall we? Because each type of pitch listed above is a slightly different opportunity to sell your work, and you shouldn’t use the same blanket strategy for each.
 

The Traditional Query Letter & Synopsis

 
First off, a query is not a synopsis and vice versa. They’re two separate entities used to achieve the same goal, but one is the lead singer, and the other is the band. You need both, but they serve completely different roles in the process.

Your query letter should be no more than 2-3 paragraphs, and its sole job is to pique the reader’s interest. It has to fit that criteria I listed above. It needs to give just enough information for me to tell whether or not it could be a fit for REUTS. So focus only on the most important aspects — the conflict and stakes that drive your story, sprinkled with a little info on the world/character and just a hint of what makes your manuscript different from the rest. Give me the heart of the tale; I don’t care about the rest yet.

Other things I need to know are genre, target audience, and comp titles (comparable books that might bear similarity to yours). Genre tells me where it fits in the bookstore and who it might appeal to, target audience tells me who I’m going to get to read it, and comp titles give me an instant snapshot of what to expect in terms of feel/tone/theme/style, etc. (One caveat on choosing comp titles: aim for ones that aren’t genre heavy-hitters, but that are prominent enough I’m likely to have heard of them. Also, the more unique the mash-up, the quicker I’ll be able to pin-point my expectations as reader.)

And that’s it. Two paragraphs should easily be enough room to capture all of that, once you isolate the key things an agent/editor looks for. Your final paragraph should be about you, what you bring to the table in terms of experience, etc. Honestly though, most of the time, we kind of skim that info. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it to us, just that more weight is placed on the content of the story than your particular pedigree.

IF you’ve achieved your goal and hooked my interest, I’ll dive right into the sample pages (because a great pitch does not always mean great execution), and if those pass the quality test, I’ll check out the synopsis. A synopsis is a glorified outline. It tells me the highlights of your story in 1-3 pages. It should capture the emotions, the main conflicts, some of the character motivations, and the entire narrative arc. The details of your world, sub-plots, supporting cast, etc, aren’t as important; the structure of your overall story is.

Manage to hold my interest through all of that, and guess what? You’ve just earned a full manuscript request. (I’m pretty sure this is the process most agents/editors go through, but some of the particulars may vary a little.)
 

Pitching in Person

 
Ah, now, this is a whole different game — one part speed dating, one part American Idol audition, all rolled into a giant ball of anxiety for everyone involved. But it’s a very viable option if you have the chance. Out of 55 total pitches I heard at the Willamette Writers Conference, I requested samples (and even some fulls!) of 48 manuscripts. The idea behind this is much the same as the process above, except you only have 10 minutes, if you’re lucky, and have to talk to an actual person. Terrifying stuff, for sure.

So what’s the key in this scenario? Be a human. Don’t stiffly recite your memorized query letter while you stare at the table. Engage with us! Take that query you wrote above and hone it even more. In a 10 minute pitch session, your pitch should take up no more than 2-3 minutes, max. Literally give us the bare bones, the core of your story, and then let us come to you. Think of it like baiting a wild animal; you don’t give away the whole dinner up front, you toss out some crumbs and lure us into the trap. In other, less poetic words, give us time to ask questions.

A face-to-face pitch session should feel more like a conversation, and every agent/editor will hone in on something different. So leave yourself room to answer questions. If you don’t and you babble through all 10 minutes, you might end up not getting a request. Because that tidbit in the middle that you glossed over was the one thing that agent/editor was looking for, and you didn’t give them time to find that out.

Your mission in an in-person pitch is simply to get that business card (See? American Idol golden ticket, right?) and a request to see more. That’s it. You’re not going to be signed on the spot, and you’re not going to give us your entire book on a silver platter. It’s simply the first step to a longer conversation.
 

Elevator Pitches on Social Media

 
Have you guessed the reason behind this order yet? It’s because they get progressively shorter and shorter. Much like pitching in person, an elevator pitch on social media should comprise the basics of your story. It should only contain the hook, the thing that is most likely to get people to stop and say “ooo, that sounds good.” You have 140 characters, so every letter has to count. Which is why you really only want two things (aside from genre/audience): the stakes/conflict, and what makes your story different. Again, you’re not trying to cram your whole book into 140 characters; that’s madness. You’re only trying to get us to want more. Which is why including that unique-factor is crucial.

To win this round, all you have to do is get a favorite from one of the stalking agents/editors, which then results in a submission of what? The first type of pitch: a traditional query letter and synopsis. It all comes back around to create a massive circle.

So there you have it, a breakdown of both why pitching is necessary and my particular thought process for evaluating them. Over the course of this next week, I’ll be starting #Pubsubs on Twitter, giving you a chance to see this in action, and periodically, I’ll add articles that may or may not be helpful to those navigating the query trenches to this blog series (along with the weekly Tweet compilations, of course). If you have any suggestions for topics you’d like me to cover, feel free to leave them in the comments below.

Until next week, happy pitching!

— Kisa Whipkey
Acquisitions & Editorial Director

The post Adventures in the Slush Pile: 8/17/15 Edition appeared first on REUTS | Boutique Book Publisher |.

Welcome to the newest addition to the REUTS blog!

As you well know, the staff of REUTS Publications believes in transparency, and there’s nothing we enjoy more than finding new and creative ways to offer authors insight/advice on navigating the murky depths of the publishing industry. We’re certainly not the only ones with this philosophy, though, and I would be remiss if I didn’t give credit where it was due. See, what I’m about to unveil was inspired by the acts of fellow industry professionals at the Ruben Literary Agency, Inklings Literary Agency, Red Sofa Literary, and many others, all of whom are responsible for creating the Twitter hashtags #tenqueries, #500queries, etc.

Recently, I asked authors how they felt about those very hashtags and the possibility of seeing one from REUTS. The answer was an overwhelming and resounding, “YES, do it!” Because, as you may have noted above, the people who usually participate in these kinds of activities are agents, not presses. But agents and editors (especially small press editors) don’t always look for the same things, and it was abundantly clear that some of you out there are curious to see how we differ.

Therefore, I’m launching #REUTSsubs and following in my predecessors’ footsteps. As I browse the slush pile looking for gems waiting to be snatched up, I’ll tweet my thoughts/verdicts. The point of these, while hopefully entertaining, is to offer authors insight into the way an acquisitions editor makes their decision. The queries will remain anonymous; I’ll only list the category, genre, and my overall opinion. Sounds just like the others, doesn’t it? That’s the idea. However, there is an added component that I haven’t seen the others do yet.

Once a week, I will take all those tweets and compile them here on the blog. Twitter captures a snapshot of the decision process — the ultimate verdict — but it doesn’t allow for a lot of explanation as to the thought behind that verdict. Personally, I believe that’s the portion that will be most helpful to the authors battling it out in the query trenches. From personal reasons, to catalog clashes, to components that could have been done differently, there are a plethora of reasons as to why something might be rejected. And fitting that into Twitter’s limit is nigh impossible. So, to that end, the weekly blog summary will allow for additional commentary that can’t be squished into 140 characters while also providing a handy location to catch them all.

Also, REUTS does their acquisitions by panel, meaning that no one person has the final say. So it would be deceptive to say that the verdict you see from me on Twitter is the ultimate verdict on a submission. Sometimes (frequently, actually), we end up with split decisions, resulting in more discussion and eventually a majority ruling. To reflect that process more accurately, I’ll be adding commentary from the other acquisitions members to the blog posts as well. You may also see them pop up on the hashtag every once in a while. Though, for the most part, I’ll be the one curating it all. (Don’t groan too loudly; I might hear you. )

So, that’s it. Keep an eye on #REUTSsubs in the next few weeks if you’re interested in my humble opinions, and look for the first summary edition of “Adventures in the Slush Pile” to go live on Monday, 8/17/15. (Why not next Monday? I’ll be attending the Willamette Writers Conference in Portland, OR for most of this week, so I’ll be accepting pitches in person, as opposed to wading through the slush pile.) See you then!

— Kisa Whipkey
Acquisitions & Editorial Director

The post Adventures in the Slush Pile appeared first on REUTS | Boutique Book Publisher |.

This week, I’ve been judging entries for the ProjectREUTSway competition held during the month of November. Buried amid 144 short stories, I started to think about what exactly makes one “successful”. I think most of you know by now that I, myself, published 3, so this is a topic that hits very close to home. It’s also one I’ve never really stopped to think about. Until now. Because, let’s face it, short stories are strange. Similar to novels and yet completely dissimilar, they require a certain — almost magic — recipe to really shine. I don’t believe in the undefinable though, (at least not when it comes to writing) so let’s see if we can’t identify the exact ingredients that make short stories such a unique form of storytelling.

Short stories are often considered a novelist’s training wheels; the idea being that someone can learn the basics of storytelling through short stories and then graduate into novels. But that’s not exactly what happens. Because, in reality, they require two different skill sets to pull off well. A short story is not a truncated novel, nor is a novel an elongated, rambling short story. Rarely can the concept for one be turned successfully into the other. And yet people still try. Why? Because short stories have been given a bad rap. Novels take all the glory, leaving short stories to rot in creative writing jail like fiction offenders. They’re looked down on as an inferior form of narrative, an eighth grade diploma to the novel’s PHD. After all, the only difference between them is length, right?

Wrong.

There are three things a successful short story must have: brevity, focus, and telling. Yes, you heard me, telling. But before you get your knickers in a bunch, let me explain further.

1. Brevity

 
Novelists are taught the value of brevity. But even the most refined novels still sprawl, meandering through details and settings and other things short story authors simply can’t afford. Literally every word matters in a short story. No detail is extraneous. If we mention the light blue collar on a random cat, you can bet that collar is important somehow.

The same holds true for the words themselves. Novelists are allowed to write sentences like this:

She paused, grabbing the handle of the stainless steel refrigerator and pulling it open with a subtle flick of her wrist.

(Hey, no comments on the quality. Clearly, I know that sentence is atrocious. I’m proving a point. )

That’s 21 words to say this:

She opened the refrigerator door.

Yes, that may be a bit exaggerated, but you see what I mean, I hope. When you only have maybe 5000 words of space, every letter has to serve a purpose. Successful short stories know this, and the language/storytelling is as finely honed as a scalpel. If it doesn’t somehow move the plot along, impart valuable information or absolutely have to exist, it doesn’t.

2. Focus

 
I’m a firm believer that every story should have a message, a reason for existing. But maybe that’s because I started out as a short story author. Whenever I come up with an idea, I identify the core message first, before the setting, characters, or even plot. For example, The Bardach is a story about identity, Spinning is about fate, and Confessions is about losing faith. Even Unmoving has a focal point. At its core, its about compassion. This type of focused narrative is one of the more notable differences between a short story and a novel.

Short stories are single-minded. Like a starving man spotting food, they keep their eyes on the prize. None of this wandering off into detours, flashbacks, subplots or other shenanigans that novels get away with. Nope, they have one message, one plot, one climatic moment that everything points to. And, interestingly enough, short stories are typically driven by an event, rather than a character. The focus is on the action, not the person doing it.

How does this translate into our recipe for success? Well, you’ll be able to feel the underlying drive in a really good short story. You’ll walk away from it remembering the message, not necessarily the characters. So make darn sure you know what you’re saying, both literally and subtextually.

3. Telling

 
All right. I know this is the one you were waiting for. After all the times “show, don’t tell” has been beaten into your head, you simply can’t believe I’d actually stand here and advocate telling, can you? Well, I’m not really.

See, the thing is, showing is still 100% better than telling. But, telling is allowed in a short story. Due to the limited amount of time you have to impart your narrative, there’s really no way around it. You don’t have the luxury of wasting thousands of words, or even hundreds, showing us the back-story. Nor can you illustrate anything directly outside the timeline of the main event, regardless how important it may be. So that only leaves one option — telling. You should still avoid the dreaded info-dump if you can, but slipping in the occasional line of summary, or a paragraph of back-story, won’t automatically earn you peer derision. Well, most of the time, anyway.

Successful short story authors are masters of knowing when to tell and when to show. (Which, by the way, I am not. Just wanted to clarify that in case anyone thought I was going to be cocky and throw myself on that list.) They give you just enough information — typically in the form of telling — to make their worlds/characters feel as fleshed out as a novel’s, but not so much that you really notice. They cover a lot of ground in a really short amount of time, making this the hardest skill on the list. It actually requires mastery of the other two to pull off, which is why I listed it last.

And there you have it; the anatomy of a successful short story. Learn how to control these three elements and your short fiction will stand out in a pile like little beacons. And let’s all try to stop viewing short stories as the lesser form of fiction. They’re not inferior. Just different.

**This post has been syndicated from Editorial Director, Kisa Whipkey’s personal Blog: Nightwolf’s Corner.**

The post The Anatomy of a Successful Short Story appeared first on REUTS | Boutique Book Publisher |.

Do you want to be the exact same person at the end of your life as you were at the beginning? Do you want everyone you know to stay exactly as they are and never change? No? I should hope not. People should change and grow. And so should characters.

There are exceptions to every rule, but fictional characters need development. In some occasions, that development is the whole story (think Ebenezer Scrooge). In many cases, you’ll find the MC begins with some sort of flaw hindering them from accomplishing their goals, and throughout the progression of the novel they’ll overcome that flaw.

In this way, you can begin a novel with a less than perfect character, but the reader knows that throughout the book the character will learn some hard lessons and become a better person. For examples, look at:

Han Solo in Star Wars: When we first meet him, Han only looks out for number one. But by the end of the trilogy, he’s risking his life to win the war. Sure, we love him when we first meet him, but we love him even more when he matures.

Rose in Titanic: Rose is a limp noodle about to throw herself over the rail in the beginning of Titanic. Thanks to Jack and the life to which he exposes her, she becomes a feisty woman who takes control of her life and spurns her nasty fiancé.

Simba in The Lion King: This progression is probably the easiest to follow because we watch Simba grow up. As a child, he “just can’t wait to be king” because he wants to be the boss and do whatever he wants. But he comes to realize that kingship is a responsibility and an honor, and that culminates in the gorgeous scene when he ascends Pride Rock (I really love this movie, in case you couldn’t tell).

As I said, there are always exceptions, but editors and readers alike want to see story characters grow and change and become someone greater/braver/smarter/nicer than who they once were.

Look for more “What Editors Look For” posts to come, as well as introductory posts where you’ll get up close and personal with the members of the REUTS team!

The post What Editors Look For: Character Development appeared first on REUTS | Boutique Book Publisher |.

When I read as an editor, I want to be interested in your story. Nobody picks up a book and hopes to be bored (unless they’re really strange). And my expectations are being formed from the moment I read your first couple of sentences.

I think we’ve all heard some kind of advice about opening with a bang. That can mean a literal bang, like a gun going off or an explosion, or it could be something as innocuous as “All my Saturdays were exactly the same until that one.”

You can go about your hook lots of different ways, and I’m going to talk briefly about two big ones. 1) The Ordinary Day and 2) The Day It All Changes.

In #1, you open with an ordinary day. Your protagonist goes about her daily business, and perhaps one or two things are odd or out of place, but for the most part, it’s business as usual. What keeps the reader reading? The promise that things will change. The ordinariness of the day is necessary to establish the character or for contrast with what comes later.

In #2, you open with the moment that the protagonist’s life goes from ordinary to odd/extraordinary/just different. Maybe she bumps into her long-lost father on the subway or drops a quarter down a drain and discovers some kind of amphibious monster.

With just these two examples, you can see that there are many different ways to write a first chapter, from opposite ends of the spectrum to all the spots in-between.

That is an obscenely brief overview of how to craft a hook, but now I’m going to talk about some basic, universal things that I want to find when I start reading.

1. Setting. It doesn’t have to be complete or fully developed because it’s just the first chapter, but I need to have a sense of place. If your novel takes place in a dystopian world and everything is completely foreign, at least tell me whether it’s barren wasteland or glittery futurism.

2. Conflict/Tension. If you’re starting out with 1) The Ordinary Day, give me an underlying ominous hint that things are about to change. If you’re starting out with 2) The Day It All Changes, it’ll be easier to work some tension in. But the main thing is I don’t want to feel safe. I want to feel like anything can and will happen.

3. Narrator/Tone. Is this going to be a quirky narrative? What POV will it be in? Does the narrator curse like a sailor? Do they have the vocabulary of a grade-schooler or a collegiate? Are they withdrawn or expansive? You don’t have to dump the life history of a character on me – just show me how they talk, and in that you can say a lot about the whole book.

Make sense? Look over your first chapter and ask yourself what it does. Does it introduce the place, the narrator, and the beginning of conflict? If these things aren’t happening, look for the place in your novel where these things actually begin and you might find your real chapter one.

The post What Editors Look For: Chapter One appeared first on REUTS | Boutique Book Publisher |.