INTERN here, fresh out of a two-hour long editorial meeting. Breath smelling like coffee, fingers ink-stained. Ears ringing with the news of the latest acquisition. Ready to spill the redacted-for-publisher-confidentiality goods.
So here's the story. About three months ago we got a submission from this lady who had developed a program for, shall we say, learning to love your headaches. THE INTERN dutifully read this book proposal, which detailed a complete self-helpy guide advising readers to stop fooling around with Tylenol and ice packs and start loving your headaches instead. It was kinda interesting, kinda schlocky in places—it read like it had been written by one of those chronic seminar attendees, the kind with frizzy hair and a purse full of dubious-looking natural snacks. Nevertheless, it wasn't exactly bad—so THE INTERN jotted down some notes and passed it on to our health editor.
The manuscript then sat in the health editor's box for several months, as she waffled on its questionable publish-worthiness. It had a nagging quality to it, naggingly un-rejectable, yet naggingly un-scoopable too. It pushed us to a plateau, where all concerned sat awaiting further stimulation.
Then the author wrote in saying she was slated to appear on Dr. Phil to talk about her love-your-headaches program, and that she would love to say she had a book forthcoming from our publishing house.
Ba-da-bing! Book acquired. This author, wishy-washy writing and all, managed to push the editors off the edge, by virtue of doing some seriously mad hustling before her book even got accepted. Now she has a book deal.
Props, headache lady. Maaaad props.
THE INTERN wrote about this hustling stuff in the last Money Talks post. Now see it in action!