Every day I see posts from new writers asking basic questions about publishing, questions that range from “how to I write my book” to “where do I find a publisher?” There are no easy answers to any of their questions because all answers to their questions involve research.

The internet is responsible for a lot of good stuff. Information is available at our fingertips: we no longer have to trek across town to visit the local public library and pull out heavy reference tomes to painstakingly search for the information we need. It’s made us lazy.

Way back in the early 1980s when I really began to take my stories seriously enough to pursue publishing—this was before the internet—I made many such trips to the local library. I bought printed copies of The Writer’s Market and The LIterary Marketplace to discern what acquisition editors, literary agents, and publishing companies wanted and would accept. I invested in postage, paper, ink, envelopes, and boxes.

The point here isn’t to give you the “I walked uphill in the snow to school carrying my brother on my back—both ways!” story, but to illustrate that reality that no one was going to do the work for me. That work is easier now: it’s all at our fingertips. There’s no excuse for laziness.

To find a literary agent or publisher, you must still do your research. This may still mean going to the library and perusing at the book shelves. Find books in your genre or on your topic and see what companies published them. Jot that information down. Go home or use the library’s computer to visit those publishing companies’ websites. On each company’s website, find the submission guidelines. The information on that page should inform you as to whether the company still accepts material like yours, if they’re current accepting submissions, and how those submission should be made. If the publisher accepts submissions from authors, follow their guidelines to the letter. A refusal to follow instructions does you no favors here.

Submission guidelines usually include expectations, such as beginning with a query letter, perhaps a synopsis, and standard manuscript format. Nonfiction book publishers may also require book proposals. There’s both an art and a science to crafting those documents, and deviation from established standards will result in automatic rejection. To learn what’s expected in a query letter, a synopsis, book proposal, and manuscript, you need to do your research.

If you see something along the lines of “does not accept unsolicited submissions,” that means you must go through a literary agent.

So, now you have to find a literary agent. Once again, do your research. Literary agents specialize; there’s little chance you’ll find an agent who handles every topic and genre, both fiction and nonfiction. To suss out which agents are the best match for your work requires starting your search with The Literary Marketplace, The Writer’s Market, and other online services like QueryTracker. Each agency, just like each publisher, will have its own submission requirements the author must follow. Again, you’ll need to have an effective query letter, perhaps an intriguing synopsis, a properly formatted and well-written manuscript, and maybe a book proposal.

Failure to jump through the hoops invites rejection.

Then there are insights you probably won’t find in an industry reference guide. Authors learn these insights from networking other (successful) authors. Ways to ensure an acquistion editor doesn’t take your work seriously include:

• Poorly written content. If misspelled words, incorrect grammar, and other such flaws riddle your query letter, synopsis, or manuscript, it won’t matter how wonderful your story is: the agent or publisher will want nothing to do with it.
• Failure to follow instructions and the submission of incorrectly formatted documents. Publishing is a legacy industry that holds tightly to tradition.
• Claims of future best-selling status. An unknown or little known author has no credibility to substantiate any such claim. If you declare your book will be the next NYT bestseller, you’ll be seen as undeservedly arrogant.
• Demands for excessive royalties or high advance amounts. Again, an unknown or little known author has no clout in the industry, no credibility. If you’re viewed as demanding and entitled, a publisher or agent won’t work with you. Understand industry standards for royalties and compensation.
• Previously published work. Instances in which a publisher will accept previously published work are few and far between. This includes keeping your drafts off platforms like Wattpad. If you self-publish your book, no publisher will touch it unless it’s selling like those proverbial hotcakes—and if that’s happening, you don’t need a publisher.

Understand that rejection does not necessarily reflect upon the quality of your work or inability to follow directions. Major publishers accept only 1% – 2% of the manuscripts they receive. Your odds are low to begin with. Factors not related to the quality of your work and which may result in rejection of your manuscript include:

• The story is not written to a up-trending market. (For instance, if hockey romances are hot right now, then they’ll be passé by the time your book would be released 18 to 24 months later.)
• The author did not make a persuasive case for acceptance.
• The author did not write to market. (This means the story does not cater to the expectations of the target audience.)
• The manuscript greatly exceeds or falls severely short of genre length expectations.
• The publisher does not believe the book will turn a profit. (Publishing is a business, and a business must make a profit to remain in business.)
• The acquisition editor or literary agent is having a bad day. (Sometimes personal challenges intrude upon professional decisions.)
• The author’s unprofessional attitude or conduct.

What publishers and literary agents do want is simple, but simple does not mean easy:

• Well-written, polished (meaning well-edited) content that needs minimal work to make it fit for public consumption.
• Properly formatted documents.
• Content that appeals to a growing market and/or addresses a burgeoning need.
• Authors who follow directions.

Before expecting strangers on the internet to spoon-feed you their hard-won wisdom, educate yourself. You don’t know what you don’t know, so begin your self-education with venerable, standard resources. Lurk in authors and publishings forums to learn from the ongoing discussions there. Those will teach you the basics and help you learn what questions to ask to further your education.

Publishing is one of the few industries in which someone with no prior training or experience has the audacity to expect immediate success and profit. Like any industry, quality and professionalism are distinguishing characteristics for success. Do your research. Educate yourself. The better informed you are, the smarter decisions you’ll make.

Good luck with your book!

You’ll find every trope known to humankind within the romance genre, but there’s one that never fails to make my teeth itch. In the multitude of book promos that populate my social media feed, the trope of the female main character harboring secrets reigns supreme. The secrecy trope comes in two basic variations:

1. The heroine has a “dark” background that she keeps secret, and it comes back to bite her. But all is forgiven, of course.
2. The heroine is intimate with a dangerous man and gets pregnant. She keeps the pregnancy secret … until she can’t, of course.

The “Dark” Background

So-called dark backgrounds run the gamut from a history of childhood abuse to current illegal or illicit activity to present circumstances resulting in impending homelessness, joblessness, or other situational catastrophe. It’s almost always used as a reason for shame, something the heroine doesn’t want other people—especially the hero—knowing about because it reflects poorly on her.

In a (very) few such instances, the dark background is something actually does need to be kept secret, like the heroine’s employment as an undercover operator or integrated in WITSEC (the witness protection program). In those (very) few instances, I can accept the secrecy as necessary: she’s undercover. That rarely happens, however, because the heroine is usually employed as a waitress, primary school teacher, a secretary/administrative assistant, a student, or unemployed.

There’s nothing dishonorable about any of the above jobs, but the limited career options for romance heroines leads to another … er … discussion. I’ll save that for another post.

Mostly, however, the secret is used as a contrived device to elevate tension in the story. It justifies the failure of the heroine to have a candid discussion to explain her odd behavior, at least until the third act climax when all is revealed and explanations are overdue to facilitate the touching reunion of the romantically involved.

The Secret Baby

The secret baby trope comes in a couple of standard options.

First is the one night stand or brief affair in which the hero and heroine part (for whatever reason) before she realizes she’s pregnant. The heroine doesn’t bother to contact the hero to let him know of his impending fatherhood because … reasons. They’re usually really bad, ill-considered, downright stupid reasons. When the hero and heroine reunite, he’s always surprised by the revelation of his fatherhood—the child is usually a few years old by that point—and oftentimes angry she kept it a secret. Well, the hero’s immediate reaction is understandable. However, the revelation then leads to the hero taking over the heroine’s life: he compels her to move in with him, and they usually and quickly wed. Cue the violins.

The second secret baby option occurs primarily in mafia romances, but may be found in other sub-genres, too. A one night stand or brief affair results in pregnancy. The mobster hero finds out … and now she and their soon-to-arrive offspring belong to him. He forcibly takes over her life, marries her, and basically sequesters her on his estate, showering her with luxury and withholding freedom. But that’s okay because he’s keeping her safe. Ugh.

Twists on the Secret Pregnancy Trope

Every so often, I’ll come across a twist on the tired old trope that intrigues me, if only because I want to see how the author handles it. In 2024, I came across a paranormal romance that had the pregnant heroine approaching the hero to inform him of his impending fatherhood and responsibilities. He dismisses her as a liar and gold digger. That’s so unusual for the genre (not real life) that it sparked my interest.

Another book I read last year had to do with a single mother heroine whose child was a teenager. She did attempt to locate and inform the hero, but he was nowhere to be found. Of course, the surprise reunion had its prickly moments with sufficient name calling and self-flagellation of guilt, but the twist was enough to hook my interest.

The secrecy trope has become so ubiquitous that I’ve nearly gotten to the point I immediately dismiss a book from consideration if the back cover blurb even mentions the word “secret.”

What romance tropes would you like to less of?

I saw a post on LinkedIn that tossed about the term “toxic masculinity,” and it got me to thinking.

First, what is toxic masculinity? Verywell Mind says this about it:

Many definitions of toxic masculinity appear in research as well as pop culture. Toxic masculinity generally has three core ideas.

1. “Toughness”: Men should be physically strong, emotionally callous, and behaviorally aggressive.
2. Antifeminity: Men should reject traditionally feminine behaviors such as showing emotion and accepting help.
3. Power: Men should work toward obtaining power and status (social and financial) and thus gain the respect of others.

A less authoritative source, theconversation.com, explains toxic masculinity this way: “The term ‘toxic masculinity’ points to a particular version of masculinity that is unhealthy for the men and boys who conform to it, and harmful for those around them. The phrase emphasises the worst aspects of stereotypically masculine attributes. Toxic masculinity is represented by qualities such as violence, dominance, emotional illiteracy, sexual entitlement, and hostility to femininity.”

So, where does one most frequenly find the most blatant examples of toxic masculinity?

(I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.)

Romance.

That’s right. In the genre primarily written for women and by women, toxic masculinity accurately describes the vast majority of romantic heroes. Some of the genre’s most popular authors celebrate toxic masculinity, turning violent, domineering, womanizing “alphaholes” into objects of lustful fantasy.

The heroines for these males all too often tend to be their perfect complements: passive, helpless, hapless, submissive. It’s not a good look, but it sells and sells well.

If you’re reading a romance, regardless of sub-genre, pick up the book you’re reading and take a look at it. Which of the following may be applied to the hero?

• Extreme possessiveness
• Extreme jealousy
• Extreme protectiveness
• An adamant insistence on being obeyed and being right
• Promiscuity (before the heroine comes into his life, of course)
• Power (physical, financial, social, political)
• Violence.

I think women, in general, like these traits, just not taken to excess. A woman wants her man to be possessive of her, but not to the extent that she can’t have friends. She wants him to be jealous, thus reassuring her of her enduring appeal to him. She wants him to protect her against that which she cannot protect herself. She believes a man of commanding nature and certainty exemplifies his supreme, well-deserved confidence. His (former) promiscuity assures her that he’s skilled in bed and attractive to other women. His power means she need not fear penury or ostracization. His violence, she believes, will be exercised on her behalf and not against her.

We have all heard and seen toxic masculinity in action, particularly when the news breaks on yet another woman having been imprisoned, used, and abused by a man. In real life, excessive manifestation of these traits horrify us. These are not the men we bring home to meet the parents.

Romance glorifies that which we decry and makes it cater to our romantic fantasies. I think that, in a genre primarily written for women by women, it’s a cutting irony.

In romance we all love an alpha male, but how many of us would actually enjoy living with one?

Ironic, don’t you think?