RITA eligibility, part II

I mentioned the RITA kerfuffle briefly last week.  There’s been some discussion on the rwa-org listserv (ha ha, “some” discussion) about it, and one of the things that has come up is a not-quite verified comment that “mass produced” means “listed in the Ingram’s catalog as returnable to the publisher.”

To which I have to say. . . wha?

Let’s see if I got this one right.  RWA’s goal is to advocate for authors and to advance romance publishing.  Got it–fine, I understand that.  Good.  Publishing is in turmoil.  I won’t say “in crisis” although surely it is a crisis for the editors who were fired, the imprints that were closed, and the authors who were abandoned in the dust-ups that are still ongoing.

And one of the major issues–one that I have seen listed far and wide from industry professionals on nearly every side of the fence–is the somewhat byzantine system of returns.

I understand this might not be the actual criterion used by RWA for defining “mass-produced” since I did not see an official proclamation.  I also understand that it probably was not chosen with great forethought–just that when push came to shove, someone had to come up with a definition and that was it.  But if you’re going to advocate for authors, can you not use as a criterion of minimum professionalism something that people believe is killing the publishing industry?

Squee! Amazon knows I exist!

I realize that this is the sort of blog post that will make everyone realize exactly how obsessive one (and by “one” I am slyly referring to “me”) can be about all things authorial.

So, I do not have a book on Amazon, in case you were wondering.  No.  I do not even have an author page on Amazon.

What I have is a slice of an inkling of an existence on Amazon.  Try this.  Go to amazon.com.  Go ahead–open it up in another window.  I’ll still be here.  I’m waiting.

Okay.  Now in that big search box, start typing “Courtney Milan.”  Start typing it–don’t finish!  Wait for Amazon to give you search suggestions.  It will start out thinking you are searching for calendars or cell phones.  Then, as you type in more letters, it’ll suggest coldplay and coupon codes.  By the time you hit the “R”, Amazon will have figured out that maybe you mean courtney love.  Yes, yes–you love Courtney–but not that Courtney, or at least not that Courtney at this moment.

It isn’t until you get into the last name that I appear.  courtney milan, right below courtney martin.  I know, I know.  It is the least exciting thing in the whole wide world.  You can’t even believe I made you go to Amazon to see it.  In fact, you are probably thinking I might be crazy.

Because what I am announcing is something like this:  Squee!  I am now a figment of Amazon’s imagination!

Oh, we takes our joys as we can find them, we soon-to-be-published-authors.

So, does Amazon know that you exist?  Are you a figment of Amazon’s imagination?  And if so, how many letters does it take Amazon to imagine you?

Bad at Querying?

Everyone knows that if you want to get published, it helps if you can write a really damned good query letter.

But what if you can’t do that?  I mean, what if you try to write a query letter–and by “try” I do not mean “give up after the space of an afternoon”–I mean, try and try and try to write a query letter over the space of months, and still don’t get anything that you love?  Some people say that this is a sign your manuscript has fundamental flaws in plot, or that you are a bad writer.  But since this happened to me, I’m going to tell you that it’s possible you are just a bad querier.  Being a bad querier doesn’t make you a bad writer; it just makes you a bad querier.  Think of it like this–you can be bad at flirting, but still be really, really good in bed.

So what do you do if you are bad at flirting–uh, I mean, querying?  Obviously, my path to publication is not one everyone can follow, but it was hardly the only path to publication.  And, knowing that I was not particularly good at querying, I did not hang all my hopes on the slim possibility that I would win Sherry’s query critique, and the even slimmer possibility that she would read my pages as a result, followed by the completely anorexic possibility that she would like what she read.  I had a lot of irons in the fire.  Here’s some of the things I considered.

Ways to Skip Querying

If you can’t query, it makes sense to try to find ways to get your material in front of an agent through some other means.  Here are some that I tried.

  • Networking. If you know someone who likes your writing, who has an agent, ask them to recommend you.  I didn’t ask Sherry to recommend me to Kristin–she offered–but I did ask a few other people, who said yes.
  • Networking (part II). I volunteered to do things, like give a workshop at the Beaumonde’s annual conference.  One of the multi-published, award-winning authors who attended my workshop ran into me a few days later and said she’d enjoyed my workshop so much that she’d mentioned me to her agent, who wanted to see more.  Someone else (who had also judged me in a contest) later told me she’d mentioned me to her editor, and her editor had asked to see my manuscript.  At the time, I had an agent and we were already on submission (with offers on the table), but I really appreciated both those efforts–and you can be sure I would have followed up on them.  If you are bad at querying, it helps to put yourself out there.  It may never pay any dividends–in fact, when I volunteered to do the workshop, I never imagined there would be dividends; I just thought I’d done a lot of useful research that might help other historical romance writers–but if nobody knows who you are, nobody can help you out.  And believe it or not, a lot of published authors–including multi-published, award-winning authors–really do want to help out younger writers.
  • Conferences. I went to Chicago North’s Spring Fling Conference, where I pitched to two agents (one of whom was Kristin) and one editor.  All three requested materials.  Of course, this depends on your having a good pitch, but believe it or not, I found it much easier to pitch in person than on paper.  I think it’s because expectations for in-person pitches are lower, and since I’ve spent time as a lawyer, I probably have more experience handling my speaking-out-loud anxiety.  Also, most agents are too nice to say “no” in person.  Take advantage of that.
  • Contests. I specifically entered contests that had agents listed as the final judge.  To be honest, I am surprised that more people do not do this.  Editor judges are well and good, but I wanted to get an agent first.  So I targeted contests with agent judges.  Of course, my manuscript that ended up getting published fared exceptionally unevenly in contests, and so I never finaled in any of those contests–but don’t think I didn’t try it!
  • Critiques. At the point when I signed with Kristin, I had not yet bid on agent/editor critiques, but these are offered every so often from various auctions.  I got a lot of mileage out of Anna Campbell’s critique from Brenda Novak’s auction, and at the point when I signed with Kristin, I had already scoped out the agents on the list there.  Let’s be frank–this option is very, very expensive, and I hadn’t decided if I was going to do it.  But you do get your pages in front of the agent in question.  It’s useful.  But the price is so high that unless you really don’t mind donating that money to charity, it makes much, much more sense to attend a conference where your agent-of-choice will be, in order to pitch to her (and others as well).

Ways to Make Agents Request From a Query (despite not nailing the pitch paragraph)

Of course, you’ll notice that all of the items on the list above have a serious cost–money or time or connections, none of which are infinite.  So I also focused on ways to make an agent request my manuscript from a query, even if I never managed to nail that pitch paragraph.

  • Contests, again. In my case, since there are a lot of RWA chapter contests, and it’s never clear to an agent or editor how competitive the individual chapter contests are, I thought it was important to have something Big in the bio paragraph.  For romance writers, there is one main Big contest:  The Golden Heart.  I read everything I could in preparation for the Golden Heart.  I stalked the Wet Noodle Posse‘s blog in November, when they talked about what to do.  I polished and polished my synopsis and pages for both my eligible manuscripts.  There are no guarantees, of course, and I was lucky that one of my two manuscripts finaled.  But it wasn’t just luck.  I had done enough research that I knew I should end on as strong a hook as possible, that I needed to have my best, cleanest pages there, and that the synopsis was far more important than I had originally thought.  I hoped that if I could say “I am a Golden Heart finalist,” that the agent reading the pages would give me bonus query points that would make up for a subpar pitch paragraph.
  • Homework. I had a list of agents.  I did a scary amount of research on the agents on my list.  I don’t just mean looking up who their clients were.  I mean, googling them for any and all interviews about what they were looking for; reading numerous client books, to see if my voice/style seemed like something they would be interested in.  For every agent on my list, I had several bullet points, so that when I actually sent the query, it would start with something like this (but obviously targeted for the agent):  “Dear Agent Y, You’ve said before that you are looking for strong, smart heroines in historical fiction.  If your client X is any indication, you do a great job finding them.  I hope you’ll be interested in reading more about Jenny Keeble, an independent, intelligent woman who has made the best of a bad lot in Victorian Britain. . . .”

    To give you an idea, by the time I pitched Kristin, I had not read Ally Carter’s “Cheating at Solitaire” (I couldn’t find it), Becky Motew’s “Coupon Girl” (ditto), Cheryl Sawyer’s first two books (ditto), and Jenny O’Connell’s nonfiction.  Everything else that she’d sold, that had been released?  I’d read it.  And Kristin wasn’t the only one whose client list I went through so voraciously.  I love reading, and I figured that the more I liked someone’s client list, the more likely it was that they’d like me.  There was not an agent in my top ten list where I hadn’t read books by at least three clients, if not more.  (Besides, I really do love reading, and an agent’s list is like a list of recommendations.)  I wanted to be able to truthfully and clearly convey that I thought I was a good fit for her list.  So I did my homework.  I did a lot of homework.

  • Voodoo. I have to admit, I had a very firm idea in my mind who I wanted to represent me.  I was also terrified of jinxing it, and so I didn’t tell anyone what my list was.  Seriously.  My critique partners asked me when we were in Vegas, and I think I gave them some really vague ridiculous answer that wasn’t even true.  Was it because I didn’t trust them?  No.  It was because I didn’t want the universe to overhear and decide to taunt me Odysseus-style.  I was sure that it would, given half a chance.

    I am not normally a superstitious person.  In fact, I probably lean toward hyper-rational.  But occasionally (and I blame you for this, Mom) I indulge in ridiculously superstitious impulses.  This was one of them.

  • The bio paragraph. I’ve done a few things that are different and interesting, perhaps even among writers.  I wanted to make sure my bio paragraph captured that without going over the line into boring the agent with credentials.  That being said, given a choice between saying “I am a personal assistant,” and saying, “I am Oprah Winfrey’s personal assistant,” you always want to say the latter.  (But given a choice between saying “I am a personal assistant,” and “I am Joe Blow Off The Street’s personal assistant,” you are just a personal assistant.)

So there you have it.  If you’re bad at querying and you didn’t win a critique from Sherry Thomas, you still have a lot of options.  Don’t let a little thing like being bad at querying stop you from getting your manuscript read.

Oh, and one final thing?  If you are bad at querying, you’ll probably get fewer requests for pages.  That means that every request you get must count.  Seriously count.  And that means, especially if you are bad at querying, your pages have to be damned, damned good in bed.

Thanks

This is what I had hoped to see on Day One.

It pays few political dividends.  It doesn’t jumpstart the economy or do anything to address the hard problems of health care, education, or energy efficiency.

It just shows integrity and a commitment to the rule of law.  It demonstrates that the oath he swore to preserve, protect, and defend our Constitution had real meaning other than lip service.

Thank you for this one.

Why you need an agent

A long while ago, Moonrat wrote a lovely post on why you need an agent.  It’s nice to see someone say this from the editorial side of the desk, and I’ve kept that post in mind all these months.

I do have to add one thing that I know now that I didn’t know a year ago.  A year ago, when I was looking for agents, I looked at publishing deals as the end-all be-all.  More was better.  More money was better.  More debut sales were better.  And to a certain extent, that’s true.

But agents do a lot of work after the deal, too, to make sure that the relationship between author and publisher is productive and fruitful.  I’m in e-mail contact with a lot of writers–a lot of debut authors in that crowd–and while I can’t break confidence to give any specifics, I feel like over just the last week, I have seen a million scenarios where someone has said, “Help!  What do I do about X?”  X might be a deadline the author has to miss because of an unexpected sickness, or a miscommunication with an editor, or a question about what to do in such-and-such a circumstance.  Any number of things.  In all of those instances, it turned out that the right answer was, talk to your agent.

If your agent is just there to make the sale, she’s not helping you along in your career enough.  Her goal should not just be to negotiate a great advance for you (although she should do that, too).  She should also make sure you get the support and help you need so that you deliver a great book and get the maximum push from the publisher, so you earn out your advance and you both start earning royalties.  When you’re trying to decide on agents, don’t just look at sales.  Talk to clients and see what the agent does for them behind the scenes.  Don’t just look at first sales; look at what they do for author’s careers as a whole.  Your agent is your partner in your career; choose someone who will take your success as seriously as you take your own.

(In case you are wondering, my agent is surely one of the best.)

Weapons of Mass Production

Many of you who are remotely involved with RWA know that there is a huge kerfuffle right now about the current guidelines for entering the RITA.  This year, the following provision found its way into the RITA eligibility requirements:

Be mass-produced by a non-Subsidy, non-Vanity Publisher in print book format.

That clause, “mass-produced” is where things get dicey.  What does it mean for something to be mass-produced?   Well, I’m not entirely sure.  It weeds out self-published books (but so does the non-Subsidy line).  It weeds out fly-by-night e-presses that have a contract with PublishAmerica so that authors can see their books “in print” even though there is no distribution program connected to the print program.  But it also weeds out authors at some very respectable e-publishers with strong print programs–Ellora’s Cave, Samhain, and the Wild Rose Press are all examples that spring immediately to mind.

My immediate, knee-jerk response was that this seemed like too much weeding for me.  But having now read through volumes and volumes of messages on the rwa-org listserv, I am now completely confused.  Certainly, some of the things that people have put forward (not allowing Passionate Ink to call themselves the Erotic Romance Special Interest Chapter?  Huh?) seem downright discriminatory.  But there are some real problems with every alternate solution I’ve seen put forward.  And the ultimate inclusionary answer–allow every printed book with the appropriate copyright date–runs smack-dab into the question: What is the purpose of RWA?

We don’t allow non-romances to be entered into the RITA.  Maybe someone has written the best non-romantic mystery in the entire world, but nobody thinks that it should be allowed into the RITA, even if it is in some sense objectively better than every published romance during the year in question.  So that’s something that’s easy–we’re not wholly about inclusion in the first place.  We do draw lines.

Likewise, I can see a clear rationale for saying that self-published books are ineligible for the RITA.  After all, the purpose of RWA is to provide an organization of writers of romance who are pursuing professional publication, and although a handful of self-published authors go on to make mega-bucks, the vast, vast majority of them–99.9999%–don’t make enough that they would have to declare the earnings on their taxes.  (This is not to denigrate self-publication; just to say that I don’t believe self-publication is professional.  It can be the first stepping stone to professionalism–just as sending an agent a query letter is a stepping stone to professionalism–but it’s not itself professional.)

So now we get to the thorny issue of e-publishers.  Now, e-publication is not at all like self-publication, and I don’t want to imply it is.  But let’s face it–some e-publishers are pretty damned sketchy.  I’ve heard of e-publishers who require authors to cough up the money for their own cover artwork, a practice I find extremely shady.  And then there are some e-publishers who are not shady, but just gormless–who will buy all rights associated with a book, for the length of the copyright term–and then be able to sell only a handful of copies.  I don’t think that RWA should be supporting publishers of either type, print or electronic.  There are limited resources available for running the RITA and judging the books in question, and I don’t see why RWA should have to waste those resources on the unethical and the gormless.  RWA is about professionalism, and although it may hurt a writer’s feelings to be told that the publishing company that accepted her book is either devious or dumb, I just think that signing away your copyrights to a devious and/or dumb company is just not the act of a professional writer.

BUT–and this is a huge but–there are a lot of e-publishers out there who are neither devious nor dumb.  Instead, they are extremely nimble and savvy.  They make a lot of money, both for themselves and for at least some of their authors.   I would have a hard time saying that someone published through the best e-publishers was not “professional.”  But RWA has chosen to draw the line between the gormless and the savvy primarily by means of giving out an advance of at least $1000 for a published novel.  This is true in part for PAN membership (although you can circumvent that by sending in a royalty statement), and true in larger part for getting space at National conference.  And so the question is:  Is getting an advance necessary for professionalism?  (I think not.) And if it is not, what alternate criteria could we use?

(Someone put forward the argument on the loop that advances were some kind of necessary symbol for professionalism, because they guaranteed income without risk.  I seem to recall that some major print publisher has experimented, at least with some authors, with a no-advance system, and instead implemented profit sharing.  Which is a lot closer to the Ellora’s Cave model.  Don’t get me wrong; I like an advance.  But I just don’t think it’s the only way to be professional.)

I had never really thought about what RWA meant for the published author.  I’ve always seen RWA as kind of a romance writer’s association, and now that I am published, I had never actually asked myself what I wanted it to do for me.  Aside from accepting our workshop proposal, that is.

I still don’t know what the right answer is, and I think you can find problems with every solution I’ve seen put forward.  I like inclusion.  I also like merit.  I would prefer inclusion here that encompassed more merit, but I would disprefer inclusion that encompassed dismerit, if you catch my drift.

Right now, having read through a whole heap of hurt, confused messages coming from both sides of the fence, here is what I think:

1.  I really want there were some way to be more inclusive of professional e-published authors.

2.  I am so glad I am not on the Board of RWA, because I am sure whatever they come up with for 2010 will tick off a lot of people.

3.  And since I am not running for the Board, and have no intention of doing so, and since I have no good solutions, only a sense that the problem is really, really hard, I should probably not bash anyone.  Except the people who said that Passionate Ink couldn’t have “erotic” in their name, because that is just crazy.

Lawsuits

Even though I don’t list it in my tongue-in-cheek biography, I am a lawyer–even though I am not now a practicing lawyer.  One of the things I think I learned as a lawyer is that civil lawsuits are an ineffective way of making people happy–and people often file suit, not out of coldly rational calculus, but because they are trying to fill an unmet emotional need.  It may sound great to win a giant verdict, but 95% of the time, a favorable ruling is an ephemeral brass ring that disappears once you touch it.

I started thinking about this a few days ago, when Kristin posted on her blog about cover consultations.  One of the commenters suggested that someday, a publisher would be sued, and an injunction obtained, over cover consultation.  It might happen one day–but it struck me as such a horribly wrong-headed approach to the matter, that I’ve been thinking about the problem presented for days.

It won’t surprise you to hear that some lawyers advise clients, when faced with a potential lawsuit, to avoid admitting guilt or providing information.  After all, if you say, “I’m sorry, it was my fault,” in court, they will ask you, “Hey, didn’t you say it was your fault?”  And you will have to answer yes, and then you will lose.  But there was a rather startling study produced by the Journal of American Medicine a few years ago that found that in malpractice cases, lawsuits went down if someone sat down with the people in question, told them precisely what went wrong, admitted fault and responsibility, and told them how they’d taken measures to prevent such accidents in the future.

Why?  Personally, I think it’s because most people don’t file lawsuits because they’re trying to get the money or because they honestly believe it is the best step to take in their careers.  Most people file lawsuits because they’ve been hurt, they are angry, and they want to feel vindicated.  They file lawsuits because they’ve stopped seeing the person they care about as human and real, and they see them only as an adversary to be ground into the dust.  Adding that human touch–letting the patients know that the doctors did care, and responded to their pain and wanted to do what was right–made a huge difference.  Ultimately, people know that a lawsuit will never bring Grandma back.  But being treated by the medical professionals as if you are human instead of a walking, talking liability helped them channel their grief and anger in some way other than lashing out legally.

I’m not trying to say that lawsuits serve no purpose.  They do, obviously, and they’ve done great (and terrible) things for our society.  I’m not even trying to say that you shouldn’t sue doctors for malpractice.  If a doctor is incompetent, she should not be treating patients, and I approve of methods that make it impossible for that doctor to earn a living.

But I do think that your life will be happier and more free of stress if you try not to find a lawsuit everywhere you look.  This is especially true of publishing contracts.  Most of what I saw in my publishing contract was about two sides working together.  I’m going to give them a timely product that is the best work I can do.  They’re going to let me know how to make it even better, and I’m going to listen–because we both want the same thing, which is for my books to capture as many readers as possible.

And I don’t see how I could have that relationship if I thought of the contract, and our agreement, as an adversarial one.

Sometimes, this relationship breaks down.  (When it does, it leads to cringeworthy train wrecks on Dear Author that leave me noting to myself that I will never, ever under any circumstances work for a publishing house where managers tell authors to shut up or sue.)  But most of the time, you don’t hear anything about it–except thanks, from authors to editors and publishing house staff, for all their hard work.

The Historical is Dead

Two years ago, all I was hearing was how dead historicals were.  Historicals were dead, dead, dead.  They were going the way of the dodo and chick lit.  If you wanted to get published, you had to write vampires and werewolves–everyone knew that.

Today, I did a quick tally in my head of people I know–and by “know” I mean, have met in person and talked with–who have debut historical novels coming out from major New York houses in the upcoming year-or-something.  By my count, that number stands at eleven.

Here are the debut authors in that once-dead genre (note that release dates are tentative the farther you get out):

All that doom and gloom two years ago?  It turned out kinda like this:

Exciting News

I have to admit, calling this “news” is a bit of a stretch, since I’ve been sort-of-not-really sitting on this piece of information for a few months.  But I’ve never formally announced it on my blog, and so I figured I should do so.

PROOF BY SEDUCTION will not be my publishing debut.

There.  I’ve said it.

HQN has asked me to participate in a Christmas-themed anthology for 2009, and so my offical debut will be a novella that I am writing for that collection.  The other novellas will be from Mary Balogh and Nicola Cornick (they are, I think, previously published novellas for the other two authors–when I have more details, I’ll let you know.)  It should be released in October of 2009.

As for my little novella….  well, if you want to find out more details, you’ll just have to come back and see what you get, right?

Five Awesome January Romances

So, I’ve read five books that come out in January, all of which have been beyond incredible.  It’s been an embarrassment of riches over here.  All five qualify as romances in the broad sense of the word:  There’s a happily ever after at the end, and the love story is an integral part of the book (although in all cases, the love story is not the only part of the book).  Of course, not all of them are marketed as romances–but that’s another matter entirely.

The interesting thing is that while I love all these books, the heat level varies wildly from nearly no sexual content in one of them, to an erotic romance involving multiple partners.  If you’ve been wondering what to read this January, look no further.

In order of heat, from lightest to hottest:

  • Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, by Jamie Ford.
    This is the novel with little sexual content, and this book is about so many things–love between races, the Japanese internment (and I can’t help but think of the parallels in this time), patriotism, and families on all levels.  I loved this book.  I have wanted to read this book since I read about it on Kristin’s blog, and reading her editorial letter about this book is what convinced me I wanted her as an agent, because if she could make me long to read a book that much, I figured she had to be the best at what she did.  You don’t want to ask what I did to get an advance copy, but I will be buying extras when it is released for my mother and for a former boss, who will both appreciate it.
  • Perfect Chemistry, by Simone Elkeles.
    Even though this book was released almost a week ago, it took me forever to find a copy of it.  My local Borders was out within two days, and when I special ordered it, they couldn’t get another copy right away–it turns out that this book is going into a second printing.  This is a Young Adult novel, but there is a sex scene.  It’s central to the whole book, though, and it takes place (mostly) off screen.  This book is so beautifully written, and even though I didn’t think I would like the heroine (she is perfect and a cheerleader), Simone made me fall in love with her in the very first chapter.  (Full disclosure:  Simone is also one of my agent’s clients and a member of my RWA chapter, but I swear I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t love the book anyway.)
  • Marrying The Captain, by Carla Kelly.
    Carla Kelly is a new-to-me author.  As in, how on earth is it that I have never read a Carla Kelly before now?  In any event, Marrying the Captain is a Regency.  The sensuality is fairly light (although there are sex scenes), but the tension is beautiful, and the character development, the slow build up in this novel, is fantastic.
  • Talk Me Down, by Victoria Dahl.
    Damn.  I’ve really loved all of Victoria’s awesome historicals, but Talk Me Down just took everything I loved about those books up a notch.  Her heroine was wounded–both because of fairly recent events involving an ex, and also because she kept everyone at a certain arms’ length.  This book contained one of the most poignant and beautiful love scenes that I’ve ever read.  If you’re wondering–it’s the photographs.  You’ll know it when you get there.
  • Stranger, by Megan Hart.
    I’ve heard a lot about Megan Hart, but just never got around to reading her until now.  This book was incredible–think, kick me in the gut awesome.  It was dark and edgy without being about abuse or any other truly unthinkable things.  I fell in love with the heroine right from the get-go, and I ached for her to be happy.  This book is an erotic romance–there is a lot of sex, including sex with strangers–but it is also an incredibly emotional read.  One of the things I’ve noticed is that sometimes, authors try to inject emotion into their books by making everything larger than life.  He’s not just ticked, he’s furious.  She’s not just jealous, she is smoldering with desire.  I find that this emotional magnification doesn’t work for me.  In fact, it usually has the opposite effect.  It leaves me feeling disconnected from the characters, as their emotions are too large for the events of the day.  Megan Hart gets that, and I think one of the most powerful things about this book is how the heroine understates her emotion.  The effect for me, is magnificent.

There aren’t many months out there where, in the first two weeks, my reading material is this incredible.  So you tell me:  What are you reading, and is it this awesome?  Because I’m almost afraid to read anything else, for fear of breaking this streak of perfection. And now that I’ve looked up all these books on Amazon to link to them, I notice that two of them are agent-brothers and sisters, and the other three are all from different imprints of my publisher. That was entirely unintentional, and I’m guessing that when I do this again next February (and I will do it again!) hopefully I will have greater variety.