It Shouldn't Happen To An Author

I come to the end of my term as Chair of the Society of Authors in Scotland on August 18th (not that I’m counting the days) so this is my last chance to climb onto my soap-box and tell you something really earth-shattering. Actually, I have my personal soap-box and plan to continue using it for some time yet, so let’s say this is my last official chance.

So, for my last official chance to harangue you, I thought I’d say something profound, full of passion, something that would leave my mark. But I couldn’t think of anything profound enough for you, so instead I leave you with my little list of Things You Should Not Say To An Author (or not if you’re in spitting distance and don’t want to appear dead in a subsequent book.)

What is the point of such a list, I hear you ask? Well, it’s all part of my mission. Mission? But haven’t I and my other plain-speaking committee members waged a war* on guff and twaddly jargon, especially mission statements and “aims and objectives”? Indeed, but secretly I did have a mission/aim/objective all along: awareness and understanding. And I think such an important mission is best served by humour. Hence a list which is simultaneously humorous and deadly serious.

(* which we’re losing, but it’s not over yet)

THINGS NOT TO SAY TO AUTHORS (with my politest answers in brackets)

1. “I was in Auchtermuchty bookshop last week and didn’t see your book.”

(Ah, that’ll be because a whole load of fans came in and bought ALL the copies just before you arrived and now the shop has ordered more; but probably there’s a bit of a delay because the demand has been extraordinary and my publishers are having trouble keeping up with reprints.)

2. “Should I have heard of you?”

(No, I go everywhere in disguise and I never allow myself to be interviewed or mentioned in the papers. As for TV, I absolutely refuse all invitations.)

3. “So, are you the next JK Rowling, then?”

(No, I’m aiming much higher. See, she took the easy option of writing a fantasy series, whereas I aim to become rich and famous writing for teenagers, who don’t buy books.)

4. “I've always wanted to write a book but I don't have time.”

(I know, it must be hard having to manage on the statutory 24-hour day. Get up an hour earlier - I did. At even 1000 words a day – 3 pages of A4 - you'd be done in two or three months. Have you thought what it feels like to be told that the only reason I got a book written and you didn’t is because I had more time?)

5. “I liked your last book better” / “This is better than your last book.”

(Thank you for your feedback, which I hugely value. Could you possibly rephrase? I suggest: "I loved [insert title] and this is brilliant, too.")

6. “Where do you get your ideas?”

(I can't tell you - it's like being in the Magic Circle. Oh, all right then: there’s a machine that we all learn to use and it generates ideas; you’re not allowed to pass the writer exam until you’ve mastered this machine. It’s sometimes called a brain and it gets better the more you use it. Some people say that fermented grape or grain helps, but I’ve never tried that.)

7. “Ooh, that sounds fab - I'll buy it secondhand.”

(Don't worry - I'm sure my bank manager will understand.)

8. To a children’s author: “Are you going to write a grown-up book one day?”

(Gosh no, I'm not nearly clever enough. Actually, I am going to write an adult book [when I have time …] but now, while my brain is still at its peak, I enjoy writing for teenagers far too much. [Enjoy far too much, I mean, not writing far too much]. Children’s authors are horribly prickly about this, as we assume that people think writing for children/teenagers is easier than writing for adults. So, if you want to ask, find a very sensitive way of phrasing it, otherwise you chip away at our pathetic egos. Besides - and this is a well-known response - would you ask a paediatrician if he/she was going to get some adult patients one day?

9. “I haven't seen it reviewed in the papers.”

(Really? You mean you didn’t read the Exceptionally Literary Review of the Best Books in Like the Whole World Ever last weekend? Where have you been?)

10. “How are your sales figures?”

(I'll tell you when you tell me how your salary is, because that’s essentially what you’re asking. Anyway, I am an artiste - I am above such tawdry things as sales figures.)

11. “Could we have some free copies for our village tombola?”

(When you say ‘free’, could you define this? Free to whom? Not the author. And when you say ‘tombola’, you do mean one of those things where no one ever wins the prize they want, so the chances of the guy who wanted the bottle of Highland Park winning my book and being seriously pissed off are quite high?)

12. “Everyone’s got a book in them, they say.”

(Best place for it, I say.)

I know, call me a crabbit old bat. Many have - in fact, I’m proud to be the first Google result for that phrase. Seriously though, we love you all, even with your annoying questions. And everyone - teacher, publisher, waiter, banker - has to deal with being misunderstood. I just thought my last contribution to this blog would be to spread a little understanding and give you, wondrous readers, an insight into the paranoid, grumpy, over-sensitive world of authoriness.

Nicola Morgan’s latest scary offering for teenagers (and older readers if they dare) is Deathwatch. She blogs for authors, unpublished and published, at http://www.need2bpublished.blogspot.com/ and can be seen being trenchantly crabbit there.