#11. My dog book
Every middling writer does a dog book at some point. Maybe they’ve had some success writing journalism, or sold a few books, but then they hit a wall, write something heartfelt about a puppy, and BOOM! College tuition? Covered.
Even Tolstoy gave it a try. In the middle of Anna Karenina he briefly switches the narrative POV from the humans to Laska, the hunting dog, and the story finally comes to life. Honestly, if he’d just stuck with Laska, and cut the rest, the book probably would’ve been a much bigger hit. The ending could’ve been funnier, too.
This trend is driven partially by demand. Publishers love pet books. Normally, when I submit a first draft of a book to one of my editors, I’ll get a reply like this:
“Love the voice. You’re close. Add some cat?”
or
“The characters are compelling but frustratingly bipedal.”
or even just
“More dog, please.”
So, what to do? Before I address that, here’s a brief message from our sponsor.
*
Hey, this is Greg. In a little more than a month, Mattel and Amulet Books will be publishing the very first autobiography of Skeletor. And we worked on it together. He was lazy, demanding, predictably tyrannical with regards to word choice, but I’m thrilled with the result.
Really. I’m proud of this one. It’s fast and funny, and I invented a few words and insults, too. Reserve a copy by pre-ordering today!
*
Sorry about that; I feel like that guy is always trying to sell me something. Last month it was cashews, now it’s a book? Weird. Anyway, back to writing about dogs….
Why do publishers want dog and cat books? Because they sell. Marley & Me was originally about the author’s love of reggae music, but the book proposal wasn’t garnering enough interest, so he added a dog, and turned his manuscript into one of the bestselling memoirs of the last few decades.
I try to work dogs and cats into my books, but I’m not very good at it. The title character of the Jack and the Geniuses series finds cats creepy. And when I tried to talk Neil deGrasse Tyson into adding a chapter on puppies to our book, Astrophysics for Young People in a Hurry, he refused, babbling on about standards or something. The book was somehow a huge bestseller despite his choice.
These mostly failed efforts, combined with the steady stream of “more dog” editorial comments, have left me with only one option: to write a pet book of my own. About what, though? Great question. I’m still working on that.
Our dog’s name is Toby. I think he has anxiety. He follows me around everywhere. The other day I tested this out, walking a random path around the neighborhood, including past our neighbor’s outdoor toilet, and there he was…
Everyone says he’s smart, but my wife and kids are smarter. Why is everyone so impressed when he’s the fifth most intelligent life form in our house?
He smells, too, but he smells like a dog, so I guess that’s normal. I’m a human, though, so I’m not super charmed by the odor.
We kind of work together, since I work at home, and he’s always hanging out near my desk. He doesn’t do much writing, though. Or does he…
Maybe, in the story, I’ll develop an AI that translates his barks, facial expressions, and posture into human phrases, and then he’ll become really famous and write a bestselling book - my editor won’t need to tell him to add more dog - and we’ll drift apart and then come back together as friends in the end. Only he’ll be walking me.
I have a few other projects to finish first, but I feel like this one’s a winner…