Of blurbs, ISBNs and finding the right fish

Writing and producing a novel is a little bit like building a house, and I’m at the final-finishes stage, which means that my body is in the room, but my head is editing my book description for the 47^th time.

My poor husband. He has to repeat himself a lot these days.

The last time I was so obsessed with details was when we (actually mostly me) had to choose paint colors, carpeting, vinyl flooring, fixtures, door knobs, etc. for the second story we were adding to our house.

This time around, it’s book bits: the back-cover teaser,  the one- and two-sentence endorsements from other authors, even the extra pages you flip through to get to Chapter 1. You see, my publisher just sent me my “first pages,” which showed me for the first time what my book will look like on the inside, with actual book-sized pages, chapter headings and formatted text.

Most readers pay scant attention to the inside title page, author dedication and . . . what’s this blank sheet doing here? They certainly don’t stop to read all that copyright jargon and ISBN-code stuff in the beginning. Nor do they appreciate how the book’s interior layout and typeface contribute to the atmosphere of the story.

But those subtle things matter. They speak volumes about professionalism, which is why I’m sweating the details.

Getting blurbs

Unless you’re Stephen King or Margaret Atwood, you won’t have other writers knocking on your door begging for the chance to sing your praises. You have to ask. And if you’re a complete unknown, as I am, it seems like a particularly audacious request to make of another author.

Hi, um, you don’t know me, but would you mind terribly much reading my 340-page novel and writing something nice and pithy about it for my cover?

That’s what I was thinking as I sent endorsement-request letters to writers I know only through their work, including Meg Rosoff. She’s the award-winning author of seven novels, including How I Live Now, which has sold more than a million copies in 36 territories, won the Carnegie Medal and the National Book Award, and was made into a film.

Meg hasn’t gotten back to me yet.

But four other writers, all recognized young-adult authors, did respond, and graciously. Two begged off because they were too busy, one asked me to send her an ARC (Advance Reader Copy) of my book and the fourth, Lish McBride, said “yes.”

I’d like to think Lish was eager to read my book again (she had read a far lesser draft), but more likely she was remembering the first time she had to ask for endorsements and took pity on me.

I’ll take pity.

My deepest thanks to Lish and the other authors/editors who have given me awesome blurbs: Anne Leigh Parrish, Emily Russin and Jan Von Schleh. You’re the best.

What’s that fish?

Largemouth bass. Micropterus dolomieui.

Since my book is about the daughter of a lost salmon fisherman, the interior-pages designer thought to accent my title pages with fish graphics. There’s a shadow image of a jumping fish under my title, and a little fish swimming between “A Novel” and “By Pam McGaffin.” I really love the design, but something about that shadow fish bothered me, so I consulted an expert.

Steve Kink, a former commercial fisherman, was my beta reader for all things fishy. I sent him the pages and asked him to tell me if these were salmon or not.

He responded almost immediately, from Hawaii, no less.

Coho salmon. Oncorhynchus kisutch.

“The first one looks like a bass and the second looks like a scrod,” he said. “You might want to redo those.”

Granted, nine out of ten readers wouldn’t know the difference between a scrod and a goldfish, but the one who does, like Steve, would surely call me on it. So we will fix this, along with any other errors I find as I once again comb through my 84,500-word novel.

I have an ISBN!

I have to confess that I read every number and word of legalize on my copyright page. There’s my name. There are my ISBNs. What’s an ISBN? I had to Google it to find out. Really quickly, an International Standard Book Number is a 13-digit number that uniquely identifies a published book for marketing purposes. Fascinating, huh?

My ISBN is: 978-1-943006-81-6

I will send a Starbucks gift card to the first person who can tell me what all those numbers mean without looking it up. (Of course I have no way of policing this.) Give me your answer in a comment below, or simply share your thoughts on publishing, life, fish, whatever. I’d love to hear from you!

Illustration of group of fish: Set of fish illustrations by Denton in Fishes of North America digitally enhanced by rawpixel.com

Illustrations of single fish: NOAA Great Lakes Environmental Lab