Learning Your A B C’s

Back from lovely New York where the tulips were a blooming and spring has sprung.
The world of mystery writing is a microcosm of the ‘real’ world. It’s high school, college, business, and society, complicated and status-driven.
Having a book published as an e-book, and having taken it to the print level by myself, after the publisher reneged, I am on the C-list, with all the writer wannabe’s. C-list people don’t get no respect, and C-list writers talk to other C-list writers and occasionally to a B-list writer.
A B-list writer has a few books out there, but they are not bestsellers and the B-list writer hobnobs with other B-list authors and looks longingly at the A-list. The A-list is people such as Mary Higgins Clark, Michael Connolly, Lawrence Block and the bestseller crowd, along with their publishers and agents. A-list people are unfailingly gracious and nice, but they have no reason to be interested in the C-list.
The C-list listens intently when editors and agents talk, and sometimes they ask pointed questions with a subtext of anguish. Editors and agents claim to be looking for the next new thing, but their idea of the next new thing is another Dan Brown.
There is a mad scramble to get off the C-List. This can be only be done without actually publishing a book or two if you are very young, blond and good-looking, and can schmooze up a storm.
The state of publishing is such that most of us will stay on the C-list. The New York shindig is home to the heavy hitters. The BIG B-List is convening in Washington at Malice Domestic, which was dissed with extreme prejudice by one of the A-list bookseller/publishers in New York. Folks, it’s dog eat dog in the writing community just like anywhere else.
I did meet one agent who wants me to send her my query, but she didn’t sound totally enthused. A form letter arrived in today’s mail, another rejection to the World’s Best Query.
On the plus side, I have the first scene of the Wisconsin book put back together, and it is a strong, interesting beginning. A nice man from Texas told me he sent out 118 queries before he found an agent. St. Martins bought his book. 118. I didn’t even know there were that many agents. I did meet some nice folks. Not everyone is status-driven.
Now it's again time to suck it up and write. Write more. Write better. Write the next new thing. Sure. Dog eat dog.
Aloha