Sharon De Vita: Love, Laughter, and her Legacy

A few days ago, the writing community and romance fans lost one of the true greats. Sharon De Vita passed away after a brief illness. Her loss cuts deeply, at least for me. And while writing a remembrance blog post isn't really my thing, I feel compelled to share with you my love and respect for Sharon and my absolute sorrow at her death.

I first met Sharon through Musa. We hadn't even opened our doors yet, and she submitted her novel The Estrogen Posse to me. My first thought was, "No way. Someone's playing a joke on me. There's no way that Sharon De Vita is submitting to us!" I mean, this was THE Sharon De Vita--NYT Bestselling author of over 30 books, winner of the RT Lifetime Achievement Award, beloved of Harlequin and Silhouette readers--why would this writer be sending ME her new novel?

But it wasn't a joke. Sharon, returning from a hiatus after the tragic death of her son, was taking her career down a new path. The Estrogen Posse was a departure from the light-hearted romances she was so well-known for. The manuscript clocked in at a hefty 150,000+ words, with elements of suspense and humor framing a recently divorced woman's quest for herself amidst murder, family turmoil, and a new romance. The first scene was a one-sided conversation between the protagonist, Ellie, and God.

And Ellie won the argument.

There was no way I was going to let that novel be published by anyone else. I'd made such a connection with the story--and its author--that I'd determined we would publish the book within the first hundred pages. We contracted the book within a few days. I edited the novel myself, and The Estrogen Posse was one of the three books we published on Musa's opening day. 

Can't think of another e-publisher who started off with such a writer/book combination, or one with a Janet Evanovich blurb on the cover. But what had started as a business relationship between Sharon and myself, morphed into an editor/author connection that was one of the most rewarding professional experiences I've ever had. By the time Musa opened for business, Sharon had become our one-woman encouragement team and biggest fan. She brought us other authors, who'd been screwed over by their traditional publishers releasing electronic versions of their books and paying them a few cents per sale. She bragged about our way of doing business, our transparency, and our support system.

Sharon was so important to us at Musa. Every time we saw her emails in our inboxes, we automatically felt good.  

What a rare gift that is! Think about it: online communication is somewhat sterile, especially in a business situation. Think of what kind of person you have to be to supersede that cold formality. Sharon was such a writer, such a wonderful person, that even in an email zipped out in two minutes flat she could evoke such warmth and sincerity and such caring that it could make four people she'd never met feel happy with just a few well-chosen words. That's why Sharon's books were so well-loved: she had such a gift with evocative language that her readers cared about her characters with the same kind of intensity that they cared about their best friends. The Kirkus reviewer for The Estrogen Posse saw the same thing: 

While working with these dark topics, the author skillfully weaves in a dose of levity without any heavy-handedness. As a result, readers jump between gasps of shock during the murder investigation and stints of uncontrolled laughter as Ellie’s ridiculous “posse” mobilizes into action. An emotional, fun-filled romp.

You see, Sharon cared about those characters and shared them with us in her books, just like she cared about us as individuals--and she shared those feelings so candidly and with such sincerity that it was impossible to doubt that she meant anything other than exactly what she said. Don't get me wrong: Sharon and I went toe-to-toe several times during the editing process. She could be just flat out ornery if she chose to. And then, once the  orneriness had passed, it was like the sun breaking through the clouds and banishing the storms from the horizon.

It's hard for me to accept that I'll never have that feeling again, that I'll never get another email or phone call from her to brighten a dark day, or that I'll never fall in love with another amazing story that came from her figurative pen. 

Sharon gave Musa another wonderful gift: her daughter, Jeanne, came to work with us at Musa and became such an integral part of the company that it was hard to imagine how we'd ever gotten along without her. Jeanne is another one like her mother--she has the same spunk, the same warmth, the same earnest interest in what's going on around her. When health issues started to come between Musa and me, Jeanne stepped in and I trusted her to do so. 

But now we find ourselves here, heartsick and sad, when the days have dimmed unaccountably and even the sounds of an Ohio spring seem to be muted. Our world of writers and readers has lost a beautiful person, one whose talent made so many people happy and whose personality and loving nature was evident in every message or interaction. But beyond that community of authors, Sharon's loss resonates on a deeper, more personal level. We have lost a member of our family, a selfless lodestone to set our course by. We have lost an advocate, who fought zealously for other writers throughout her career. We have lost an innovator, who was willing to take a chance and make the best of it. 

And I have lost a dear, dear friend. Sharon encouraged me as both an editor and a writer. She cared about what was happening in my life, and she made my life brighter once our paths intersected. Her passing was sudden and wholly unexpected, coming as it did without warning.

Sharon leaves behind her husband, Frank, her two daughters, Jeanne and Annie, and two lovely little granddaughters. She also leaves behind legions of devoted fans, bereft authors, and shattered friends. But Sharon has also left us her books--all those wonderful books, the stories that remain as her legacy--that will always remain, immortalized, like she is now. My grief is for my own sake, because I've lost someone important and dear to me, and for her family, whose pain is just so intense right now. And yet, this particular death has brought to mind something that Leonardo da Vinci once said: "As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death."

Life well used. An apt turn of phrase, and one that so embodies Sharon De Vita and the legacy of love and laughter she has bequeathed to us all. Her life was well used.

God speed you, my friend. You will be--and already are--sorely, painfully, sorrowfully missed. 

(And when I get there, wherever there is, we'll continue that argument about commas that I will, as usual, win. Or perhaps I'll let you win it, and just rejoice in the moment that we'll share.)

Giving Thanks--It Ain't As Hard As You Think

Let's see--what am I thankful for this year?

I could go through the whole usual litany of "things Celina is grateful for in 2011" but I'm sure you'd be bored.  The list is short and...well, quite frankly, you guys don't read my blog to see what I'm being nice about.  You want to see what's pissing me off.  So let's head to the top of the list, shall we?

I hate divas.

Now, I realize that's strange coming from a girl who worked in theater AND in drag shows for a long time, but it's the God-honest truth.  You know all the awards show speeches that thank the "little people?"  Well, who are the "little people" in publishing?

The cover artist. The content editor. The line editor. The proofreader. The book designer. The marketing people. The bookkeeper. The review coordinator.  The list goes on and on and on.  A whole lot of people go into creating a book.  Sure--the writer is responsible for the lion's share of it; after all, they WROTE the book.  But the steps of the publication process mean that a lot of different people touch that manuscript before it becomes a BOOK and makes it to readers.  

There is a growing trend I've noticed lately, one that I find more than a little disturbing: authors who feel they have the right--and the power--to treat the crew that works on their book disrespectfully.  Authors who talk out of their asses, criticizing...say, a cover artist, for example, for creating a cover based on the author's OWN DESCRIPTION of the theme and plot instead of reading the book and pulling an image directly from the author's brain and regurgitating it onto the page. Last year, as a matter of fact, an editor who is a dear friend of mine was told by an author that he would SUE HER for copyright violations if she "dumbed down" his manuscript by correcting his very (very,very) horrific use of the English language.

At least I assume it was English. It might have been Tagalog for all I know.

In fact, earlier this year PM (pre-Musa) I retracted a contract offer to a writer who took it upon himself to correct the CONTRACT (one that I did not write and didn't have anything to do with) and then expressed concern over the level of editing he would receive if the contract was any indication of the company's standards.  But what made THAT encounter resonate even more strongly (and heads up!  herein lies the lesson) happened a couple of months later, when the same author submitted the same manuscript to the same editor at a different company. 

Guess who didn't get a contract offer from Musa?

And you know what?--it's a damn shame.  The book was well-written, funny, timely--and with a good, strong editor and the proper platform could have done very well.  But that book lingers with the author as far as I know, and probably will for some time.

You see, all those "little people?" They are working on multiple books from numerous authors at varying levels of proficiency.  That artist is making five or six more covers this week.  The content editor has her next two books already lined up.  The proofreader just got done working with the best-known author in the house, who treated her with kindness and respect.  And THAT'S why the best-seller is loved by the staff--because courtesy and professionalism go a long way to greasing the gears of the process. 

So my Thanksgiving post this year isn't about turkey or family or Pilgrims. My Thanksgiving post is about the actual giving of thanks to the people who work with you on your book.  Be courteous. Be professional. Speak to these publishing pros like equals. You don't automatically assume god status when you sign a publishing contract. 

Don't demand. Ask.

There are enough divas in the world as it is.  In the publishing industry, we don't really have divas.  Instead, we have asshats--and that's the last title you want dangling from your name.  Because usually right behind it, there's another tag that's even worse.

Failure.

Breaking News from Musa Publishing

Musa Publishing is proud to announce our acquisition of the entire collected works of American pulp fiction author and a pioneer in America speculative fiction--Homer Eon Flint. Best known for stories like The Emancipatrix, The Devolutionist, The Blind Spot (co-written with Austin Hall), The Lord of Death and The Queen of Life, Flint was an influential and popular writer who amazed readers with his flowing prose, his incredible vision, and his ability to create credible and vivid imagery that rolled out just like a film-which is good since he was doing film treatments as well.

At Musa, we believe that electronic publishing has value and uses other than just publishing. We believe that the archival ability of e-publishing allows us to better the literary world in general. These manuscripts have been stored away for almost a hundred years. Now they are going to see the light of day for the first time in some cases--and Homer Eon Flint's bibliography will increase accordingly.

The Homer Eon Flint collection will be published in its own Musa Gold line through our Polyhymnia short fiction/collections imprint. Dr. Matt Teel, the head editor at Urania, will be working with myself and Vella Munn on the collection, which Musa will publish bi-weekly throughout most of 2012.

Musa invites you to join in this gradual revelations of this amazing author who helped to lay the groundwork for our genre nearly a century ago--and let whose words read smoothly, whose voice is still fresh and original in the kind of world that he actually DID imagine with a great deal of prescience. Stay tuned to the Musa website and blogs for more information and release schedules for his books.

And congratulations. The entire world of Homer Eon Flint is about to be laid at your feet.

Cogito ergo sum

I think therefore I am.

For me, it could just as easily be "I think I am" or Cogito sum, instead. Or maybe Cogito quae facio? Like the little engine that could?  (Reading lots of books to babies these days) Yes, my Latina lingua is rusty.  But I kind of feel that way--I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

While my agent shops my manuscript around New York (gods help her!) I've been busy with a new project.  Last week, I helped to launch Musa Publishing as part of a four-person partnership.  We're full of ideas these days, working 18-20 hours a day (six of that is my writing; I'll be honest) to create a small press that encompasses all the problems we identified within epublishing in our experience and addresses them.  I'm pretty excited--you can check out the work in progress at www.musapublishing.blogspot.com for yourself.

In the meantime, I'm putting the finishing touches on my steampunk Ripper story What a Pretty Necklace.  It might actually be more of a gaslight fantasy, but the setting of 1891 New York and the added benefit of Jack the Ripper scenes to satiate my lust for descriptive brutality is a lot of fun to deal with.  I really think..hesitantly at least...that this may be my new milieu.  The blend of technology, fantasy and history is pretty seductive to a girl like me. If you ever read this book and see the term *copperplate* applied to a JTR murder scene, run.  That's all I have to say.

Aside from that, things are starting to settle into a routine.  I'm not really talking about what happened with my last publisher, so don't ask.  I'll just say that I'm heartbroken at leaving, am completely tragic that I lost the imprints I'd work so hard to build up, and have resolved to move on without bitterness or recriminations.

Yep. The high road.  Me.  See? Cogito ergo sum.  I think, therefore I am--not playing that game.

And in the near future, you guys may be hearing more about Asphodel.  Just sayin'...