So yesterday was a banner day for one simple reason: my very first page proofs. There's something incredibly exciting about looking over something you wrote as it's meant to be seen in print: the typesetting, the bio and perhaps best of all, your name and story listed in the table of contents. Especially considering the august company I'll be included with.
And as much as I love what the Internet can do for publishing short mystery fiction, I think I'm beginning to get it: there's something altogether cool about seeing things in print.
So what was it like for the rest of you to get those proofs in the mail, open them and see your words on the page? Even if you had to mark things up and tell them what they got wrong, was it still a thrill?
And am I going to be this big a geek once I get the finished copy of the book?
YES. You will be even WORSE. And then comes the day you first see your book on the shelves in a store... In my case, my daughter, then three, tried to return it to me. Having seen the cover on my computer, having been with me to open the cartons of ARCs and finished books when they arrived, she was certain those nefariuos bastards at the bookstore had somehow broken into our home and stolen Mommy's books. Enjoy every moment, Sarah!
Posted by: Lauren Baratz-Logsted | May 04, 2005 at 01:07 PM
Lauren is right. Nothing is quite so sweet as going into a bookshop on the far end of the country and seeing your novel right there on the shelves.
Just make sure you introduce yourself to the book store staff and offer to sign stock. They'll be happy to help.
Congratulations.
Posted by: David Terrenoire | May 04, 2005 at 01:20 PM
Yea, even more so, because that’s when you’ll notice the glaring error everyone missed on the line edit and the ARC… ;}#
But it’s still hella-cool, isn’t it?
Posted by: Stuart MacBride | May 04, 2005 at 01:24 PM
When I opened my galley proofs for the first time, it felt like I was reading someone else's book, even though my name was on every other page. It was so surreal yet so exciting at the same time, and I can't even imagine what it'll be like once the actual book arrives.
Posted by: Karen Olson | May 04, 2005 at 01:24 PM
When I got my copy of FEDORA III, I asked my 8-year-old son, "Remember when you said I was 'just an email writer'? Take a look at this," and pointed to my name in the table of contents. He was suitably impressed.
Posted by: Graham | May 04, 2005 at 01:52 PM
It's a great moment, Sarah, no doubt. I received mine when I was in Italy, and I rushed off to a cafe and sipped espresso and stared at the shapes of the letters (there's nothing like a professional typeset) and felt like my life had just become fiction--romantic fiction, in fact. A cliche writer's dream of what life could be.
But it's funny how fast you grow out of it. The second time around the elation lasted about 5 minutes, then I realized how much they'd gotten wrong, and worse, how much I'd gotten wrong.
So cherish it now, baby, because this is as good as it gets.
(Well, ok, when every other page has your name at the top you'll be able to relive it! I expect that'll come soon enough for you.)
Posted by: Olen Steinhauer | May 04, 2005 at 01:54 PM
Olen's right on two counts. Seeing typeset pages is about the look of them, it's about seeing that page with the ISBN and all the copyright information, and seeing the design of the chapter headings, even the blank pages. However, you will soon come to hate the proof stage - you think long and hard about using a particular word or placing a comma, only for someone to circle it in pencil and suggest a replacement. Infuriating. It reminds me of that moment in "Wonder Boys" when Grady says of his editor, "I sweat blood for four years and he corrects my spelling".
Posted by: Kevin Wignall | May 04, 2005 at 02:18 PM
Will you be this big a geek when you get finished books?
The first copies of my book came from this crummy printer in Baltimore (which explains some of the problems I've had pushing this thing). So while they looked... um... less shiny than the ones you buy in the store, I ripped open the box and pranced around the house laughing like a hyena on mushrooms.
So to answer your question, yes, you will.
Posted by: Jim Winter | May 04, 2005 at 02:19 PM
I must be abnormal. The proofs made me uncomfortable and the printed copy even more so. I hid it away immediately. As for seeing it in the library: depression because it isn't checked out. In the bookstore: why is there only one? Or worse: why aren't my books on the shelves? The latter produces bitter anger against the store and a shopping boycott. Obviously I'm just not cut out for this life.
Posted by: Ingrid | May 04, 2005 at 02:24 PM
Graham,
Empty Houses was a nice noir piece you wrote for Fedora III. Keep up the good work.
I hope you haven't spent that 50 cent royalty yet. I'm framing mine.
Posted by: David Terrenoire | May 04, 2005 at 02:26 PM
I'm someplace between Ingrid and the rest of you. Every time I get a set of proofs, my heart drops. I think: this is for real. And: I can't change much, no matter how awful it feels on this read through. And: why did I ever get into this business?
When I first see a new one of mine in a bookstore the thought that comes first to mind: it was a good thing, the decision to write under a penname. Because I can stand back and observe. That's where I'm most comfortable.
Posted by: r/s | May 04, 2005 at 02:52 PM
PS what I should have said first: congratulations. looking forward to reading it.
Posted by: r/s | May 04, 2005 at 02:53 PM
David, I don't think I'm going to cash that check - I'm going to frame it with the caption "(Almost) The First Dollar I Ever Made". Another contributor said he's going to put a down payment on a Big Mac.
Incidentally, I'm glad you liked my story. I have absolutely no idea which one you wrote but plan to check on it when I get home.
Posted by: Graham | May 04, 2005 at 03:22 PM
My first paying gig was a short for SHRED OF EVIDENCE. I promised my wife I'd buy her dinner on my first writing check. I had to borrow $5 to order pizza.
Posted by: Jim Winter | May 04, 2005 at 03:30 PM
Hey, that line-up looks awfully similar to Sarah's blog roll . . .
I loved all the "firsts," but I think holding the physical book in one's hand is the best. Putting it on the shelf, lining it up with other books, marveling at how it looks like the others.
(Oh dear. Just taught my last class of the semester and I'm feeling awfully tender and dewey-eyed about the whole writing thing.)
Posted by: Laura | May 04, 2005 at 03:55 PM
All the stages of finally seeing one's stuff in print are amazing from the galleys to finding a copy on a bookstore shelf. Before Mary and I had our first book pulished by Poisoned Pen Press a few years ago, Barbara Peters and Rob Rosenwald chose to email us, without warning, as a surprise, on Christmas Eve, a jpg of the cover! Incredible.
Posted by: Eric Mayer | May 04, 2005 at 04:51 PM
If you're talking about seeing the galleys for DN, I don't know because I ain't freakin' received 'em yet. Suffice to say, I AM in there (page 119 - thanks, LeBlanc), somewhere in the middle, right where you need me.
But there is summat spicy about seeing page proofs. Like you're a proper writer an' that.
Posted by: Ray | May 04, 2005 at 05:03 PM
BRILLIANT NEWS! can't wait to read DUBLIN NOIR!
And soon :-
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2005/05/04/boweek30.xml&sSheet=/arts/2005/05/04/ixartleft.html
Ali
Posted by: Ali | May 04, 2005 at 05:10 PM
I hope you get to be geeky for a long long time and that it's thrillingly happy geekiness. Congratulations!!!
Posted by: Cornelia Read | May 04, 2005 at 06:44 PM
When I determined to write crime fiction, I went to a Mystery Writers Workshop at the wonderful Book Passage in Corte Madera, California. Imagine the kick a few years later when I returned to be on the faculty and to see stacks of my book on the tables there.
A friend of mine says to have champagne (it doesn't have to be the expensive stuff) every time something good happens with your book. I bet you should buy a case, Sarah.
Posted by: Jim Mitchell | May 04, 2005 at 07:23 PM
Yes Laura, that list does look quite similair to Sarah's blog roll with one glaring exception...ME! I show up a couple hours late for Bouchercon, miss the big dinner of bloggers and now I'm out in the cold like a dog with gas. But mark my words you all, when I am asked (either nicely or through a hostage negotiation) to edit Detroit Noir ain't none of you gonna be in it. None of you!
Posted by: Bryon | May 04, 2005 at 10:21 PM
Congrats, Sarah. Enjoy the feeling.
I confess to being with Ingrid on this one - at first. I felt sick reading over the page proofs for TAMING THE BEAST and just horrified when the actual book was in my hands. It was all so final - I hated that it wasn't perfect and I couldn't change it ever again. But it's getting better. Enough time's passed now that the anxiety has subsided and I get a little thrill when I see it in the stores now.
Posted by: Emily | May 04, 2005 at 11:54 PM
Bry - I still like your idea for Hug Noir. Real possibilities, babe!
Sarah, you beat me to it again. I've only reached the signing the publisher's agreement stage.
You'll always be cooler than me.
And taller.
Posted by: Jennifer Jordan | May 05, 2005 at 01:20 AM
Bryon, I thought you were going to do Oklahoma! Noir -- an anthology of hardboiled stories inspired by musical theater.
In which case, you're going to need me, Sarah and Mark Billingham, who was singing Sondheim in the bar at Bouchercon.
Posted by: Laura | May 05, 2005 at 10:19 AM
Jen -- taller yes, cooler, not so much.
Laura -- now that's something I'd sign up for. Besides, GUYS AND DOLLS was pretty hardboiled...at least the source material was (does anyone read Damon Runyon anymore?)
Posted by: Sarah | May 05, 2005 at 10:24 AM
I second the champagne idea -- a bottle for each landmark: first review, good review, bad review survived, first reading, etc. And make it the best you can afford. Life is too short to drink stuff that isn't fun.
I generally fall in the ecstatic-geek category, but not this time. When my "Mew" ARCs arrived, I opened one at random and for some reason got into my head that pages had been printed out of order. I broke out in a sweat. I felt nauseous. I desperately started searching for my editor's number so I could call and ask that the reviewers be contacted, that a new set of ARCs be printed... whatever.
Then I came to my senses and checked the page proofs. The two bits I read followed one on the other. And when I read them again in the ARC the transition made perfect sense. Three minutes and at least three years of my life lost...
Posted by: Clea Simon | May 06, 2005 at 12:44 PM