Guilt guilt guilt

Come now Bethany if we don't seriously look at the lack of commitment we may have to take this woman's advice, and just give in. Take the Madonna route.
Taking the Madonna Route. I got it from the writer's weekend site. The schedual is also up (tentative but it sounds deffinite)

Cindy Appel sent us this article to 'rescue' Cynnara Tregarth:

TAKING THE MADONNA ROUTE
by Cindy Appel
web site: http://pages.sbcglobal.net/cynthianna

I heard on the radio the other day that a recent survey of women revealed that their number one ideal job of all time is -- get this -- becoming a best-selling novelist.

Somebody pinch me please.

Of course, 99.9 percent of novelists aren't of the best-selling variety. It was very astute of the public to make this distinction from your garden-variety novelists (which includes writers like myself). Like the vast majority of professional actors who wait tables or teach drama classes to high school kids in order to survive, the vast majority of fiction writers can not pay their bills with whatever income they may gain from their professed trade. Sad, but true.

In order to become a best-selling novelist usually one must crawl his or her way up through the ranks. Starting as a not-so-best-selling novelist, a healthy appreciation is obtained for how good it is to finally make the top .01 percent, provided the novelist is lucky enough to achieve this goal before he or she kicks the bucket. (Many classic best-selling novelists didn't achieve their unique status until long after their deaths. I wonder -- does it really count if you never live to see your name in the New York Times or USA Today?)

But recently I've come to the awful conclusion that the old-fashioned method of becoming a best-selling author is moot if your name happens to be as recognizable as Jell-O in our society's collective consciousness.

Take Madonna, the pop singer-icon, of the "wear-your-underwear-on-the-outside" fame. Madonna recently signed a contract with Puffin Books to produce her own series of children's books. Rest assured, our children won't be exposed to photos of leather and lingerie at a tender young age says the publisher. She's not illustrating her books herself according to the press release -- she's just writing them.

Of course, since Madonna's name will be on the spine of these books, they will undoubtedly join the ranks of best-sellerdom in seconds flat. What the general public doesn't realize is that a best-selling book does not necessarily mean that a particular book is worthwhile literature. Best-seller lists are simply lists of what titles major bookstores and chains are buying in great numbers to place on their shelves in hopes of selling and making a profit.

Famous name? Your books will be stocked. Not so famous name but you won a major literary award? Don't worry. At least some bookstores out there might stock your book.

I can see it now. Soon there will be more Madonna books than corner Walgreen's stores in the St. Louis metro area. But does that mean the Material Girl can write her way out of a paper bag? Probably not.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not intentionally picking on Madonna here -- or any other recent celebrity children's book authors, such as Jamie Lee Curtis, Jerry Seinfeld, Spike Lee or John Lithgow for that matter. I'm picking on the silly notion of how "glamorous" the public perceives the novelist's profession to be.

I recently sat down and reasoned out why becoming a best-selling novelist was so many women's idea of a dream job -- especially when those of us who actively engage in the profession argue otherwise. From conversations with friends, family members and complete strangers some of the most common misconceptions I've discovered include:

1. As a novelist, you can work at home in your bathrobe and slippers. You don't have to get dressed up for work every morning and make that awful commute.

2. People adore you and love everything you write. Editors snatch up everything you write. You have no real boss. Nobody ever second guesses you. You rule the world.

3. You can afford the plastic surgery to look like your twelve year old dust jacket cover photo.

As a public service, I will now attempt to debunk these insidious myths before any more poor fools hurt themselves while trying to attempt obtaining best-selling author status.

1. Yes, many writers work out of their own home offices (including yours truly), but it doesn't mean you can sit around in nothing but a bathrobe and slippers all day. There are mail carriers, plumbers, nosy next-door-neighbors and others who come knocking whenever they see your car in the drive thinking you're goofing off. Their reasoning? "How could she possibly be doing serious work out her own home?"

Stay-at-home writers get dressed every morning just like everyone else -- one pant leg at a time. But we do save a lot of time and hassle on the commute, unless we need to go out and interview a source, do some research at the library or go to post office to mail off manuscripts. You realize the editors don't come looking for us, and they don't pay us if we don't send them anything to publish. That means we have to work and submit constantly since the majority of our submissions are rejected outright and a rejected submission doesn't pay the rent.

If you can't deal well with constant, almost daily, rejection from strangers and friends alike, this isn't going to be a job you'll love. Just check out misconception number two

2. People seldom "adore" every word a writer writes, including the words of best-selling novelists. Check out a book review web site or magazine sometime and read some of the "nice" things the critics have to say. Authors actually receive nasty fan mail on occasion (more so since the advent of the Internet and email)and even big name authors experience the heartache of rejection from an editor from time to time. After all, writing is a business. The bottom line is what sells. No, the best-selling novelist doesn't dictate what will sell. The publisher and the buying public yield that power.

What happens if a best-selling novelist's books stop selling like hotcakes? Well, unemployment is a distinct possibility. Don't ever think best-selling novelists are immune to work related stress or don't have to deal with bosses nagging them constantly to produce a product that sells. They get it in spades compared to your average hamburger flipper at McDonald's. And when a best-selling novelist falls from the top of the lists into the cellar, it's a public embarrassment as well as a private failure.

If you can't deal with people constantly criticizing your work to your face and making snide comments about your work's salability behind your back, then run -- don't walk -- away from this profession.

3. If you make it as a best-selling novelist you could possibly afford plastic surgery but why bother? No one sees you if you're working at home. You can just keep telling your publicist to put your twelve year old photo on your dust jacket covers and be done with it. As with any desk job, most of a writer's weight accumulates on their bottom half... Having met a few in the flesh I can tell you that most best-selling novelists don't resemble cover models, movie stars or even your everyday TV situation comedy stars. They tend to look exactly like your next-door-neighbor who could stand to lose a few pounds.

Think about it: if writers looked like movie stars or models, they'd be in another line of business, wouldn't they?

I apologize if I've burst your bubble, but next time someone asks you what your ideal job is, think twice and say something intelligent like, Sanitation Engineer. Remember, they get most civic holidays off and have great pension plans.

Yes, I know there's nothing I can say that will stop some folks from pursuing their foolish fantasies. I meet these people all the time, and when a person asks me how they should go about obtaining that lofty goal of best-sellerdom, I tell them to read and write everyday along with studying the markets.

Lately, however, I've changed my mind. All that reading and writing and studying -- it's a lot of hard work and not everyone's cut out for it. There's got to be an easier method.

So, after further research, I've come up with some new sure-fire methods of becoming a best-selling novelist. I suggest you do them in order and try them first before resorting to the more strenuous methods:

1. Wear your bra (or boxers) on the outside of your clothes. Be sure to garner lots of press coverage.

2. Go through a bewildering series of lovers and clothing looks. Make people puzzle over what outrageous stunt you'll pull next in public.

3. Make a few poorly received movies and produce a bunch of platinum pop music albums. Then try your hand at children's literature. Ta-da! You've made it.

That's it. Honestly, it's gotta be a whole lot easier to hit best-seller lists taking the Madonna Route than the old-fashioned way. I only wish I looked half as good in my underwear as Madonna does in hers.

(Editor's note: If you'd like to turn Cindy into a best-selling author so she doesn't resort to wearing her underwear in public, run -- don't walk -- to you local bookstore and demand they order several dozen copies of her latest book, The Slush Pile Survival Guide (Gryphon Books for Writers, ISBN 0-9654371-6-7) or her romantic-comedy Beautiful Dreamer (Triskelion Publishing, ISBN 1-932866-79-5). The wholesale lingerie business thanks you.)