Some Thoughts on Publishing Contracts

Dear Writers: You should be reading your contracts at least as many times and at least as closely as you do your prose or poetry. Because that misplaced comma that has you so freaked out in your story? That’s not half as bad as the misplaced comma in your contract.

Over the past few days I’ve been going over novel contracts for a new project. I’ve been posting notes on how I think about contracts and why reading them carefully is so important. This post gathers all of that information in one place.

We (writers) tend to focus heavily on craft to the occasional detriment of the business side of publishing. Contracts are vitally important and signing a bad one can be deeply harmful to both your career and your psyche. So far, I have been lucky in that I haven’t yet hit a bad clause in a contract that I couldn’t live with or get changed. But part of that “luck” is knowing that there is a point at which walking away makes more sense than signing, and being willing to push on stuff you don’t like. This is one of the reasons why I’m glad to have an agent, and why my first criteria for an agent is contract comprehension and negotiation. It’s much easier if you’ve got an agent to do the bad cop side of things.

Without further ado some random thoughts while reading contracts:

Just finished the third pass through the new contracts. This one was quickly cross comparing clauses with previous contracts. I.e. have I signed something like this before without it blowing up. If yes, hooray! If no, lets double check that bit there. Next up, close read of the whole thing with notes. Whee.

Beyond the important who gets paid how much for what stuff, one thing the boilerplate part of a publishing contract represents is a sort of archaeological record of previous author flame-outs. Also, previous publisher flame-outs, rights grabs, etc. It’s instructive reading in that way as well.

The how have things gone wrong with this publisher’s past deals portion of the reading is especially critical for smaller houses. (Catherine Lundoff reminded me of this bit)

Finished 4th pass (close read) through new book contracts. Brain melty now, so, I’m off to kill orcs for a bit (Shadows of Mordor). Next up: Reeading critical bits (things I’ve flagged on this or previous passes). Hopefully by this time tomorrow I can actually sign the things.

Finally, in response to a question about whether my agent shouldn’t be taking care of this:

Rule 1 of agents and contracts: No matter how good your agent is and how much you trust them, it’s still YOUR contract and your work on the line.

I like and trust my agent. I’m very happy with my publishing house and I adore my editor. Verifying everything is still part of my job. If your book is truly successful, that contract could be a big part of your life for the next 20 years. If it’s a smash hit, that contract could be a part of your heirs lives 20 years after you’re dead. You want it to be solid and as favorable as you can get it.

Post Script: This time I’ve done six passes through the latest contracts. Now I just need to briefly discuss two paragraphs with my agent to verify my reading and I can sign them and get them out the door.

 

Friday Cat Blogging

I was thinking we could try something different this time, a dialogue.

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Meow?

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You know, a back and forth between the two of us.

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I am a cat.

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Am I getting through to you at all?

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I like cat food.

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Facepaw.

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Cats, man…

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In Memoriam Jordan

We lost our wonderful black cat yesterday completely unexpectedly. Laura went to get her for snuggles and found her cool and stiff. I think she might already have been dead when I took the picture of her in the Friday cat blogging immediately below this. It’s the position she was in when we found her tonight—curled up in one of her favorite spots. She was fat and grumpy and a bully who beat up the other cats, but she was also a sweetheart who loved to snuggle with her people and had a marvelous diesel engine purr. I’m in a complete state of shock as I write this. She hadn’t given any indication of poor health. A cat we loved is simply, suddenly gone, and there’s nothing we can do about it except mourn her. That’s the second cat we’ve lost in four months and I’m kind of broken about it. Please people, hug your loved ones and tell them how much they mean to you. You never know when the chance will be gone forever.

 

Here’s what she looked like when we brought her home.

Move over old man! (Spot passed not long after this)

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She approached napping with reckless abandon.

Sprawl!

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She was an explorer and too smart for her own good.

I conquered the kitchen!

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I is in your drawers walking on your stuffs.

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Hey there, want to bring me some treats?

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I like treats.

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I really really like treats!

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Keep the plates coming thumb-monkey, I’m just getting started.

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She possessed a certain gleeful malevolence.

If I was your size, I’d eat you. You know that right?

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I am secretly the dragon Toothless.

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It my chair, back off.

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My puzzle my rules.

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But she could also be playful.

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All shall love me and despair.

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She was utterly devoted to her nap partner. (Asleep on Laura’s chest)

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She didn’t take shit from anybody.

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Well, most of the time.

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She could look grumpy in the most elegant of circumstances.

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She adored the sun.

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And the radiators. Here she is on a low bench I made so she and Meglet

could get up and down more easily as they got older.

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She was very interested in the neighbors.

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This is her watching robins build a nest above the window.

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She was gluten free and knew which shelf she belonged on.

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Adored the screen porch or anywhere she could be above other cats.

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I am the queen of the bathroom!

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Did I mention she knew how to sprawl.

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Dignity was not her long suit.

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Really really not her long suit.

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She loved to hang out in our reading nook.

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Or anyplace with defensible borders, really.

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She had a talent for looking bored.

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And for being comfortable in her skin.

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This is how I saw her the most often—peering over the edge of a basket

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I’m going miss her so much.

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Friday Cat Blogging

We are kittens and cuter than you are.

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Not listening.

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Cute, maybe. Also easily devoured.

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This is what it looks like after you devour a pair of kittens.

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I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Kitten waste space.

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Friday Cat blogging

Sandals, why did it have to be sandals?

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Could be worse, could be leezards.

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But everybody loves leezards! Especially cute little geckos.

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I scratch my ear at you leezard, I scratch my ear at you.

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Friday Cat Blogging Missing Meglet December Hiatus

Hi Folks,

I think I’m going to take December off from cat blogging because I don’t have it in me right now. I just need more time to recover from losing Meg. I will return sometime in January.

Thanks for your patience,

Kelly

Friday Cat Blogging—A Tribute to Meglet (Nutmeg)

I can’t begin to express how much I don’t want to have to write this post. My little Meglet cat died last Friday, October 30, and I am going to miss her forever. Over the years I’ve had to say a final goodbye to six dogs and seven cats that I thought of as mine to some degree. All of them were special to me, and much loved. But, as anyone can tell you, some beloved pets are extra special. Meglet was one of those for me. We brought her home in April of 2004 after she stole my heart at the Humane Society, and she  spent much of the eleven and a half years since then curled up on my chest or in my lap along with my beloved Isabelle cat, often forming one half of what I refer to as my catvest. I wrote fourteen novels with her on or near me.

She had spent two years at the Humane Society where they had named her Nutmeg. That quickly became Meglet once she got here because, like Winnie the Pooh’s friend Piglet, she was a very small animal—eight pounds at her heaviest, and three and a half when we finally had to let her go. But she was fierce and fearless and incredibly scrappy. She was also incredibly social—always willing to come out when we had guests and to greet everyone and collect pets and skritches. I think her years at the Humane Society were part of why the one thing she loved nearly as much as hanging out on my chest was lying in the sun on our screened in porch where she could smell the wind and feel both free and safe.

Meglet made marvelous little chirping noises that always sounded to me like she was asking: Murder? Murder? in the most cheerful way imaginable. Meg was an inveterate snudger, which is something between a snuggle, and a nudge, and a smear where she would rub her nose and lips across your cheeks and ears. Every night when I came to bed, she would stand on my chest and press her forehead into my chin as hard she could and just purr her heart out. She was utterly devoted to me and I adored her, and now she’s gone forever and I’m heartbroken. That’s all I can bear to say at this time, grief always robs me of words.

Goodbye little Meglet, I love you.

My last Meglet catvest on Friday

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And the first I have a picture of from ~2009
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And here’s Laura modeling the catvest.

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The week we brought her home

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In my old screen tent office on the custom built cat perch.

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She swore mortal vengeance on her tail.

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She wasn’t much for dignity.

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But she loved her monkeys, and wanted to be ON them, dammit!

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Climbing Mount Monkey Wiktory!

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Here she is helping me with one of my books.

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And sleeping between my knees.

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Every so often she’d get what we called her “crazy eyes.”

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Snuggled up in the down comforter.

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Love this shot of her. I think our catsitter Paula took it.

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With Isabelle and our late and much loved Leith cat in my lap.

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Sunbeams and happy smiles.

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Sprawling in my lap while I played video games was another favorite.

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Lying in the sun on the screen porch.

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Meg loved that Laura always let her finish off the milk from her cereal.

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Two of her favorite things in the whole world, a fire and a sunbeam.

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Did I mention a lack of dignity?

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She loved everybody. Here she is with our friend Matt.

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She adored the windows in my studio.

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I just love this shot.

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She was queen of the top of the stairs.

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I set a couple of logs on the windowsill and she claimed them as hers,

preventing me from putting them away.

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This was what it was like every night when it was time for bed.

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Most mornings too.

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This was her pick me up face, I saw it a lot.

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I will miss this smile so very much.

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Friday Cat Blogging—Black Border Edition

Today we had to make the decision to let our beloved little Meglet go. I’ll put a memorial post up sometime soon, but I haven’t the heart to do it now. Here she is on a happier day in her favorite place in the whole world. I am going to miss her so very much.Photo on 10-6-15 at 11.08 AM #2

Friday Cat Blogging

Is the world moving, or is it just me?

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Methinks thou doth ‘nip too much.

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To nip or not to…wait, what was the question?

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Y’all are embarrassing me again.

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My monkeys love me, see my heated cat bed in the sun on the porch.

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