I don’t have any blurbs for The Melting Season. My editor didn’t think I needed to ask for any. She felt that I had enough praise for my last two books, which came out fairly recently, so “they” (the sales people, the marketing department, my publicist) had enough to work with. I kind of wanted to ask for some blurbs anyway, just so I could hear my friends say nice things about me. But of course I would never waste their time like that.
I recently watched two authors arguing about blurbing. Both of the authors were “famous” in their way, one, a man, more so than the other, a woman. Both had received a great deal of press (“profiles”) about themselves, but also glowing reviews of their work. They were both much more successful than me, from, at the very least, a business perspective, which is to say they had better reviews from more “important” publications, and, I was guessing, had sold more books than I had. This means a lot of things (Does it? Yes, it does), but for the purposes of this discussion it means they get asked to blurb more than I do. Which of course is a blessing and a curse. And I think mostly a curse.
The woman was saying that she did not want to have to lie. That she blurbed just one book a year usually, and it would have to be a book that she loved, and that was all she was going to do. She was pretty serious about the whole thing, and also slightly pained. Why should she have to lie? Why, indeed.
The man was saying that if he could help out a lesser-known writer every so often, he would. He had written a book that had taken place in Montana. (I’m lying. It’s somewhere else.) And that a horse-raiser (I’m lying again. Not a horse-raiser) had written a book that was coming out on a small press, about the very same town the author had written his book about. And the author said, “If I don’t blurb it, it might totally get lost in the crowd. So if my blurb helps just a little bit, I should do it, right? Shouldn’t I help out the little guy?” Well, of course you should.
I have written only three or four blurbs in my life. (I get asked maybe once or twice a year. Because I am not “important.” Or maybe I am just the same as a lot of other people.) Two were for small press authors, two were for bigger presses. Two of the authors I already loved, two of them I did it because I was asked nicely and was pleasantly surprised.
Once I got asked by an experimental writer who I have met before and who seemed very nice, and we have friends in common, people whom I greatly respect, and they love her work a lot. So it made sense for her to ask me but I said no, because her writing simply wasn’t my cup of tea. Like I could not wrap my head around it at all. I picked it up, looked at it, and it was like reading something in a foreign language. I felt bad saying no to her, but I could not figure out what I would actually be able to write about her book. My brain simply froze.
Another time I got asked by an agent who was a friend of a friend to consider blurbing a book about single women hanging out in the Hamptons for the summer looking for love.
…
I don’t think you should have to lie, I agree.
That famous male author from before told me that he got asked to blurb an already-famous-in-a-different-way person’s first book and he said no because he figured he wouldn’t need his help. I very much liked this famous male author. He seemed pretty punk rock to me in a lot of ways. He had interesting things to say. From that perspective, I think he deserved all of his press. Why not give it to the punk rock man who wants to help the little guy? Give it to him!
I end this meandering little blog post with a final story, of another “famous” “successful” writer. This writer is a very good writer. Endless talent. For real. I love his work. But when he is asked to blurb, he is not nice. Not only does he say no, he says explicitly why, as if he is reviewing the book in an “important” publication. On one occasion he told an editor “no” and then suggested how he would change the ending of a chapter.
No, I will not help you, and also, do your job better.
On the one hand, it is as if all the brilliance in his head is bursting forth and he wants to share that knowledge with everyone he knows and he cannot help himself, he wants to improve all writing everywhere. On the other hand, maybe he’s just being a dick.
Blurbs don’t mean that much anyway anymore anyway. Who is it for? Is it for the author? The editor, safe in their office? The salesforce and the publicist, having something to point to? Would you rather buy something because I told you to do it or because your best friend told you it was the best book ever?
I’m pretty happy with not having to blurb a lot, it sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. But occasionally I do like having my name on the back of someone else’s book. For some reason, that always feels nice. Like I made a new home for myself in someone else’s world.
