Yesterday it was announced in a special PW Alert that the publisher Houghton Mifflin Harcourt would be calling a temporary halt on new acquisitions. As you can well imagine, if you haven't experienced it directly already, this caused quite a hue and cry on writers' lists across cyberspace. After all the dire pre-holiday reports of depressed sales, was this the sign of the End Times? First the stock market and mortgage banks, then the auto manufacturers - could a need for a publishing bailout be far behind? And really, who would ever bail out publishing anyway?

In fact, the HMH move is not as across-the-board as would first appear. For example, at this time, the measure only extends to the adult division, while the children's division remains unaffected; and one insider notes that it has more to do with a credit crunch and a highly leveraged position following a recent takeover than anything else. It's not permanent, but simply a temporary reaction to a current situation.

One agent said that in her seven years in business, she'd never seen a publisher make a move like this. Since I've been in this business for 25 years, I've actually seen other startling things. I've been around long enough to remember when Harper took the unprecedented move of cancelling 100 book contracts in one fell swoop. You want to see mass author panic? Tell 100 authors (one of whom was Kurt Vonnegut's granddaughter), who believe that they've already sold the book - and have finally had a happy Thanksgiving where when relatives ask the dreaded question "Did you sell that book?" were able to answer "Yes, I did!" - that "Oops, sorry, ain't going to happen." Now there's a shoot-yourself-now moment if there ever was one. I sometimes say that the saddest story in publishing is when someone sells a book, sees it published, believes they're in the game, the book fails to sell in sufficient numbers, and they find themselves right back out of the game, relegated back to those depressing Thanksgiving dinners. But I think an even sadder story is the person who sells and then gets knocked out before that one book even sees light of day.

But, you know, Harper was simply reacting to an economic reality: they'd been publishing far too many books - I believe the year the axe fell on the 100, they had something like 1500 new books out across divisions - that they couldn't possibly do justice by, so a corrective was needed. They made the corrective - not a happy move for anyone by any means - but Harper is still there and so are a ton of Harper authors.

The sad truth is that publishing - like the stock market, the mortgage industry, and the auto manufacturers - has been operating under a broken business model for quite some time. For years - decades, even - there's been talk of the need to revamp the antiquated returns policy, but no real action ever gets taken. Maybe it's time? Maybe it's finally time to change that and a whole lot of other things?

Do I think publishing will survive? Yes, I do. Do I think hard changes will need to be made? Yeah, like yesterday, but since that didn't happen and one always hopes tomorrow will be better, might as well start making those changes today.

A lot of the buzz in cyberspace has to do with writers who have yet to be published worrying about how things like the HMH move affect their chances. Will they have to live yet longer with a dream deferred? I do get why the very idea of that is so hard. It took me nearly eight years of writing, having written seven books along the way, before selling one book. I know all about those depressing Thanksgiving dinners. But as tragic as a dream deferred is, for thousands of people we're talking about their livelihood: agents (who need to sell books to go on making a living regardless of who's calling a temporary halt to acquisitions); editors (Random House already cut 10 percent of Doubleday's staff and most publishers feel that cuts in their own houses are a matter of when, not if); and writers like me (seriously, I'm a full-time writer and my entire income stems from what I do, so if I don't keep selling books and winning contracts, I'll eventually run out of money and I'll be looking for a new career at 50).

So what can writers, whether published or unpublished, do to help their own cause?

Write the best book you can. Yeah, I know, you've heard that one before. You've been hearing it your whole bleeding writing life. But have you really been listening? Writing the best book you can doesn't mean endlessly chasing new trends blindly, sacrificing what may be unique to you in favor of what is hot-hot-hot even if it's an area foreign to you where your own writing is not-not-not. That's not to say you shouldn't pay attention to where the market is or where it's going, but nothing fails to succeed in publishing like excess. Do we need any more vampire books this year? Actually, if it's a really good vampire book, we do. But if it's a derivative/doesn't have its own voice/published just to fill a page in the catalogue or a space on the shelf - if it's one of those vampire books, you can keep it this year. Look at the market for what's popular but that you can bring something unique and special to; listen to the silences in the market to see what's underpublished but that readers scoop up when it's out there. No matter what area you write in, develop a voice, a real voice - be special. Seriously, just write the best damn book you can...and then send it out there.

Did I just tell you to send it out there? Yeah, I did. Even though the Chicken Littles are saying to hold onto your material until the economy improves, if it were me and I was still trying to break into this business, you bet I'd still be submiiting new material. I'd make sure it was work I believed in whole-heartedly first, but then, yes, out it would go with the usual wing and a prayer, the same wing and a prayer all my work still rides out on. For here's the thing: never mind economic reality, there's also biological reality, meaning we none of us are going to live forever. I live by the credo that states that a meteor could take me out tomorrow, so I might as well live today. And that means submitting. Even in hard times. Just so long as I'm sure the work is the best I can make it. Seriously, some publishers may temporarily stop acqusitions, some publishers may cancel contracts. But books will go on being sold to publishers and put out by those publishers, and some people will even buy them. So as long as you go on writing the best you possibly can, this job could still be yours.

Before this turns into another dissertation-length blog post, I should probably go do that thing I still make my living at: writing. So I'll put it down for next week to discuss here what the other two principals in the equation, agents and editors, can do differently in this depressed climate. (Damn! At this rate I'll never get to my blog posts on "Is Stephenie Meyer Bad for Girls?" and "You'll Go Blind if You Do: Self-Googling.")

But before we go: Is the sky falling? Nah. We just need Atlas to hold it up. But I'm pretty sure he's around here somewhere. Oh, yeah, that's right: He's US.

Be well. Don't forget to write. (Seriously.)