I received a hilarious e-mail from a friend whom I've been consulting during his process of writing his book and getting an agent and a publisher.

He has a great deal that includes a movie, a television series, and a bunch of money (like, hundreds of thousands of dollars), and this is is first book and he's not even a writer.

Here's the e-mail:

I received the editors edits yesterday. My book is now in a mostly unrecognizable form. What had been a low brow, puerile, jejune adventure in ******** is now a thoughtful, mature story of life passage.

I suppose this is normal, or is it?

Yes, in fact it is normal. And you can fight it if you want. You might even win a couple of battles. But the editor's job is to use your manuscript to create (recreate) the book that is the most marketable. A team of people (not including the editor, often) crafts the sometimes-new angle (or voice) of your book, and the editor's job, like the film editor's job, is to cut the product to fit the vision of the director (publisher).

Though many people would respond: How on earth can you complain about anything when you have a deal like that, imagine if there were things about your book that someone tinkered with. A lot of things. Things on every page.

I hope that someday you're in a position to even have the opportunity for such a problem.

Nothing provides motivation to write (or revise) better than a looming deadline when your publisher has already paid you your advance.

However, for those of you whose deadlines are looming only in their minds, the resulting motivation may be, shall we say, less urgently experienced.

Accountability is of course a blessing and a curse, but when you want to get something done, if you create a system for accountability you dramatically increase the probability that you'll get it done.

Why?

Because you'll be mortified if you don't.

A writing partner who is currently writing something is ideal, as you can set goals together and your processes might be similar. I recommend weekly goals for, say, 90 days. You should speak or e-mail once a week, and report what you have done to your partner and even give them something to read and comment on (it hurts, I know). This way, you have someone to talk to about your writing and your struggles, and that someone can even give you feedback if you want it (sometimes you won't. Instead, you'll simply want a congratulations for doing what you were supposed to do.).

Not everyone is surrounded by writers, however. Or maybe the writers you know aren't people you'd feel comfortable going on a 90-day journey with. If that's the case, who in your life--whom you trust and wouldn't mind speaking with once a week--is either working on a project or hasn't started a project they've always dreamed of (i.e., their "someday" never arrived). Ask that person if he wants to get down to business and explain how you can help each other with your goals by being accountable to each other.

Create a spreadsheet with deadlines, actions to take, goals to be reached, and even your feelings during the process, for the entire 90 days (or maybe just 30 days--whatever time period works best for both of you). Make two copies: one for you and one for your partner. Once a week, talk about what you've done and how you felt. A regular set of topics will likely emerge in your conversations, which will end up being like therapy: who is supportive of your work, who resents the time you spend on it, where you get your best work done, when you get your best work done, how you feel about being accountable.

You might revise your schedule based on how things go during the first week or two. Many people find they were unrealistic when they created the schedule, not factoring in all of the vicissitudes of daily life that keep them from their plans.

Finally, remember to give yourself something wonderful upon reaching your goal. Do something fun with your partner--celebrate your accomplishments!

And then set some new goals and begin again . . .

I've written a book about my experiences with animals who have died shortly after they've met my acquaintance. After over 100 animal deaths, and about the same number of animals who didn't die after meeting me, I came to certain conclusions about the place of animals in our lives. These conclusions are far from what mainstream Americans believe, and I understand that my book is a tough sell and needs someone with a unique set of traits to champion it.

One of those traits, unfortunately, is an appreciation of the macabre and a sense of humor and irony. And those come through in the "voice" of the book, which two agents have told me they found, shall we say, not to their liking.

Now, I can easily write something in a different voice, but I am a bit dark and twisted by nature. Furthermore, what the world doesn't need is another sweet book about a person whose relationship with a dog or cat makes them realize that there just might be something more to nonhumans than instincts and reflexes.

Voice is very subjective, and though there are many criticisms that you shouldn't take seriously, voice isn't one of them. Your voice is the personality--the person--behind the writing. And when someone doesn't like the voice of your writing they're sort of saying they don't like you--the way you present yourself in your work.

If you're a journalist, voice should be something no one notices, as you're reporting and your personality shouldn't be noticeable. But if you provide commentary--think Andy Rooney--people will react to what you say, but they might react more to how you say it. Your diction, syntax, tone, inflection and pauses tell your listener a lot about you and how you see the world. And the same is true of your writing.

If an agent or publisher doesn't like the voice of your work, it shouldn't be entirely surprising as you should choose agents and publishers wisely, based on whether they have appreciated writing or topics similar to yours in the past. If your work has a distinctive voice that you know isn't for everyone, here's my advice: Your topic is secondary to voice when you're searching for agents and publishers (unless you change the voice, which I can do with a rewrite of about a month, and it will be far more acceptable for most people, but that's not the book I want to write). For instance, though it's important to find someone who wants to read about animals, it's more important to find someone who appreciates quirky or dark voices.

What's the most distinguishing quality of your book? Is it the topic, the genre, the voice? Whatever it is, find someone who appreciates that quality, and assuming your writing is great, the rest should fall into place eventually.

A friend just received a $200,000 advance on a book that is about something timely and has a significant celebrity and beautiful-people component to it, and let's just say it's not what one might call serious literature (nor is it meant to be). Another friend commented on how "unfair" that was.

Here's my advice: If you think about the publishing business in terms of fairness, you'll drive yourself to fits of rage. Publishing is a business and, generally speaking, its goal is to profit from the sale of books (and rights and ancillary products, etc...). If a large mainstream publisher has a choice between signing an author with a sexy book that will appeal to enormous numbers of women (we are the ones buying most of the books), or a more artful book with a more narrow appeal, who do you think is getting a book deal?

Now, small and independent publishers often have missions that do not begin with: Make as much money and appeal to the most people as possible.

If your niche-y idea, well-written of course, is rejected by large publishers, that's probably because a large publisher isn't the right place for your book. If you want a huge publishing house to sign you, you have to offer it a huge publishing house-kind of book, including a great platform.

Do yourself a favor and eliminate the word "fair" from your vocabulary. Think instead in terms of matching your work with the right publisher and doing your part to demonstrate you have what it takes to work with that publisher.