RSS |

Archive for the ‘Blogging’ Category

Making a Move: Prologue

Friday, June 4th, 2010

I think I’ve lost sight of why I’m writing this blog, and why I decided to put Make a Move out myself. I wanted the blog to help people out – provide good information and suggestions/warnings for other writers looking to self publish – in the hope I’d be able to connect with people who shared my interests and goals. Thing is, I’m not that happy talking about myself – I’m not doing this to get famous – but that seems to be what I’m doing; I’m promoting myself as a product. That was never the plan. It’s also not much fun, and that was the whole point of starting this.

I love Make a Move; it’s an awesome book, and writing it pushed me to new levels of creativity and inspiration. It made me happy. I’m trying to sell copies of Make a Move, but I’m not marketing it, I’m marketing me. That probably explains why I’m not enjoying it as much as I thought I might; printing and typesetting and retailing aren’t fun; ideas and creativity and kick-ass dialogue are fun.

I need to dig words out of the book and get them into the wild. I need to find new ways to market the book using Freddy, Jay and Holly as my spokespersons. I need to play to my strengths and let my writing do the talking for me. I’ve already got some cool ideas…

I’m not giving up blogging about the process of self publishing; I’m getting some good traffic and I still feel I have a lot to offer those just starting out. I am, however, going to be looking into my writing more; I’m going to tone down the technology and focus on the ideas. After all – I want readers to enjoy the site as well as writers.

When I told my friends about this refocus, it confirmed my decision, as they immediately returned with topics they wanted me to discuss. I had three friends with me throughout the writing and editing, but more arrived after the book was done, and they want to learn more about the process that brought the book into being. I’m going to write five posts covering the subjects they asked about, and publish one a day next week (7th-11th June).

There. I’ve said it now, so I have to do it. It’s going to be a busy week.

 

The Importance of Being Indie

Monday, May 24th, 2010

“Writers need to stop defining themselves by their publisher, or lack thereof. “Indie” is becoming a meaningless affectation.”

@glecharles, 1:00 PM May 19th

I really, really wanted to agree with this when I read it. It resonates with how I feel about my book and what I’m doing – that I’m competing with all books, and not just the independently produced ones. I’d never send my book for review by a publication dealing only with indie books; I’m putting Make a Move up for the Pepsi Challenge against every book out there, and I’m competing on story, character, dialogue and ideas, knowing that my editing and printed product are comparable with anything the mainstream can offer, and won’t let me down. The quality of my book is more important to me than any label I could attach to it, or myself.

And in a perfect world, that would be enough.

Thing is, if you don’t label yourself, someone else will. And that label is “vanity publisher”. It happened to a writer friend of mine last week; she was enquiring about whether attending a seminar on book marketing, targeted at publishers and held by a respected outfit in Manchester, would be of benefit to her. The reply she received told her that there would be little of interest to a vanity publisher. Nice.

This stereotype – the vanity publisher – was weak ten years ago, outdated five years ago, and is now just tired. Even its irony value as an inaccurate, mindless cliché sustained by a supposedly creative industry has faded. It’s time it ended.

I read Zoe Winter’s blog post over at IndieReader.com about how the term “indie author” is starting to catch on, and how indies with the skills and drive to produce a quality product need to stand up and define what it means to be an indie. I agree with her assertion of what it means – or what it should mean to be an indie author – and I’m committed to playing my part on all counts, but I’m skeptical about one thing, and that’s how far we, as indies, can push the title. I “officially” adopted the title of indie author when I changed my About page recently, but I didn’t do it because I needed to feel like part of a movement, or I was looking for validation, or I was yielding to peer pressure; I did it for the reason anyone running a business should do anything: because the customers asked.

I run Google Analytics on this site, and I monitor what people are searching for when they find me. Know what my most frequent search term is? “indie novel”. I don’t know specifically what these browsers want when they search for indie novels, but I hope they want the same thing I did when I used to search the “contemporary” section of a bookshop: something new, inspiring, raw, alternative, edgy – exactly the kind of books that are struggling to get book deals as publishing pounds are redirected to easier sells. So these readers are searching for something, and they’re finding me, and they’re sticking around to explore the site and download my sample episode (okay, I admit it, I have a data fetish).

So there is an indie movement in books, but it’s the readers who are driving it, not the writers. We have no control over where it goes, other than to do our utmost to give the readers print books and eBooks of the quality they deserve. And as for the title of “indie author”, its your choice whether to adopt it, but given the energy, enthusiasm and acceptance of the indies I’ve met since I published Make a Move and started this blog, it’s one I’m proud to accept.

 

How To Be Cool

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

It’s not possible to be cool; it’s only possible to be thought of as cool.
That was something I worked out a long time ago, something that’s since flavoured my perception of all things deemed worthy of my limited attention. Being cool has nothing to do with writing, as authors are generally considered uncool, but it has everything to do with the subjectivity of brands. If you’re marketing your own book, you’re creating a brand: you. You have control over that brand through what you do and say, and what you do and don’t reveal about yourself. What you don’t have control over is how that brand is perceived.
Writers are a predominantly solitary breed, so a common approach to building a brand would be to plan, create, execute and then sit back, safe in the knowledge that you have created a good thing. The benefit of this isolationist stance is that you’ll never know if you were wrong. It could be that your brand is so finely crafted and astutely executed that you’ll perceived as the literary equivalent of Eric Clapton from the second your website goes live, in which case you should probably give up writing and go make six figures a year in advertising. Chances are, though, that you’re not making as good a first impression as you could, and the perception of your work suffers as a result.
So How Can I Be Cool?
I already told you – it’s not possible. It’s only possible to be thought of as cool, and in the absence of the powers to pull off the Jedi mind trick, there’s only one way to achieve the perception of coolness, and that’s to engage your readers in the development of your brand. Give them every opportunity to feed back on:
Your blog posts – good or bad? too long or too short? too tame or too sweary?
Your book cover and marketing materials – it took a 1cm drop of my book title to change the perceived message of my book, and I didn’t spot that – someone else did. It really is the little things. 1cm was all the difference between a contemporary slacker-thriller and a Clive Cussler knock-off.
Your social media – you might think that last Twitter update was biting satire, but there’s a fine line between satire and just being a cock.
No matter how long you’ve been working in solitude on writing the book, you have to let others get involved once you go public. I get the impression that too many indie authors are working in a vacuum (I can’t think of another way to explain some of the ridiculously high prices on Smashwords, coupled with typo-ridden synopses) and that’s not a good place to create a brand that’s going to have broad appeal.
Let’s go one further; how about letting others design your brand? I recently shot an author interview that will be online in a few weeks (volcano, ash, technology shipments, tedious story…) and my only role in designing the piece was to put the team together and show up with cake. The list of questions and the final edit are out of my hands, because that’s the only way I can produce something that shows me and my writing as perceived by others.
Will I come across as cool, and thus enhance my brand and the perceived value of my writing?
You tell me.

It’s not possible to be cool; it’s only possible to be thought of as cool.

That was something I worked out a long time ago, something that’s since flavoured my perception of all things deemed worthy of my limited attention. Being cool has nothing to do with writing, as authors are generally considered uncool, but it has everything to do with the subjectivity of brands. If you’re marketing your own book, you’re creating a brand: you. You have control over that brand through what you do and say, and what you do and don’t reveal about yourself. What you don’t have control over is how that brand is perceived.

Writers are a predominantly solitary breed, so a common approach to building a brand would be to plan, create, execute and then sit back, safe in the knowledge that you have created a good thing. The benefit of this isolationist stance is that you’ll never know if you were wrong. It could be that your brand is so finely crafted and astutely executed that you’ll perceived as the literary equivalent of Eric Clapton from the second your website goes live, in which case you should probably give up writing and go make six figures a year in advertising. Chances are, though, that you’re not making as good a first impression as you could, and the perception of your work suffers as a result.

So How Can I Be Cool?

I already told you – it’s not possible. It’s only possible to be thought of as cool, and in the absence of the powers to pull off the Jedi mind trick, there’s only one way to achieve the perception of coolness, and that’s to engage your readers in the development of your brand. Give them every opportunity to feed back on:

  • Your blog posts – good or bad? too long or too short? too tame or too sweary?
  • Your book cover and marketing materials – it took a 1cm drop of my book title to change the perceived message of my book, and I didn’t spot that – someone else did. It really is the little things. 1cm was all the difference between a contemporary slacker-thriller and a Clive Cussler knock-off.
  • Your social media – you might think that last Twitter update was biting satire, but there’s a fine line between satire and just being a cock.

No matter how long you’ve been working in solitude on writing the book, you have to let others get involved once you go public. I get the impression that too many indie authors are working in a vacuum (I can’t think of another way to explain some of the ridiculously high prices on Smashwords, coupled with typo-ridden synopses) and that’s not a good place to create a brand that’s going to have broad appeal.

Let’s go one further; how about letting others design your brand? I recently shot an author interview that will be online in a few weeks (volcano, ash, technology shipments, tedious story…) and my only role in designing the piece was to put the team together and show up with cake. The list of questions and the final edit are out of my hands, because that’s the only way I can produce something that shows me and my writing as perceived by others.

Will I come across as cool, and thus enhance my brand and the perceived value of my writing?

You tell me.

I Am Not For Sale

Tuesday, April 20th, 2010

As the currents of power and money circulate in the sea of publishing, and authors and publishers from traditional shores wait for an arm to raise from the water, clutching a profitable, sustainable business model, sparkling Excalibur-like in the sun, one word constantly lurks just beneath the surface: Platform. Joanna Penn (at The Creative Penn http://www.thecreativepenn.com/2009/06/26/author-platform/) defines the term pretty well, but to summarise, your platform as an author is the things you do to engage with the book-buying public. This includes blogging, social media (Twitter, Facebook, et al), podcasting, or any regular event where you contribute as an “expert” (such as writing workshops).
Exploring Social Media
When I first created a Twitter account (www.twitter.com/cinemanche), I didn’t know what my goal was. It was pitched to me as a great way to reach customers and sell books, but after six months of active participation, I’ve decided that it isn’t. It’s a great way to connect with people who can help, advise and inspire you, and to return the favour where you can, but these are your peers/friends/contacts; they’re not potential customers. Aside from celebrities, you do see people with thousands of followers, who are clearly marketing a product, but the value of these relationships (mostly generated by spam-like follow/auto-reply behaviour) is negligible.
My Facebook profile is for my real-life friends to stay in touch and let me know, passively in many cases, what they’re up to. Some friends have bought my book, but they were all connected with the project outside of Facebook. I put the odd post about the book on there if I feel it’s a noteworthy achievement, but otherwise, I don’t try to sell to my Facebook friends. If they wanted a copy, they’d have bought one; they’re not potential customers. I do see people on Facebook who are simply using it as a marketing tool, spamming my feed with link after link, but they get their asses hidden, if not blocked, pretty fast.
I set up a Facebook fan page for Make a Move, and again I didn’t know what my goal was. Now it’s a great way for people to follow my progress and get updates first when they’re not on Twitter. In almost every case, my fans have bought the book; they’re not potential customers.
So if these tools aren’t a source of potential customers, what value are they to my platform? None. Because, contrary to what most people will tell you, they’re not Platform; they’re Presence.
Connections
I wrote Make a Move for me. I published it to connect with people. I know that sounds trite, but I sure as hell ain’t doing it for the money. I want real connections – not the one-way street of supplier > customer. I want to have a conversation, to learn something, to be entertained, and my Presence provides the conduit for that. I hope people see my blogging/tweeting/posting as adding value to the Make a Move experience, and that it will keep people with me as I write more books, but I’m not selling anything. It’s just me, online, having fun.
A Time and a Place
Some of the more aggressive marketers out there would say I’m lazy and ineffectual in not exploiting every available avenue to sell books, but like I said, it’s not a sales channel; it’s just me, online, having fun. When I do want to sell books, I go to places that have a uniquely important resource: book buyers who haven’t read Make a Move yet. You can check out the list of online and offline places comprising my Platform here, but note the common factor; in every case, people go to those places primarily to buy books.
I’m smart that way…
I try not to give advice on my blog, just examples of what I’ve tried and what the outcome was, good or bad. So consider this an insight into my psyche rather than a piece of advice: I’m more than happy to talk, to listen, to collaborate, to drink and dance until the sun comes up, but nothing turns me off faster than the rancid odour of a sales pitch. And I’m not the only one…

As the currents of power and money circulate in the sea of publishing, and authors and publishers from traditional shores wait for an arm to raise from the water, clutching a profitable, sustainable business model, sparkling Excalibur-like in the sun, one word constantly lurks just beneath the surface: Platform. Joanna Penn (at The Creative Penn) defines the term pretty well, but to summarise, your platform as an author is the things you do to engage with the book-buying public. This includes blogging, social media (Twitter, Facebook, et al), podcasting, or any regular event where you contribute as an “expert” (such as writing workshops).

Exploring Social Media

When I first created a Twitter account (@cinemanche), I didn’t know what my goal was. It was pitched to me as a great way to reach customers and sell books, but after six months of active participation, I’ve decided that it isn’t. It’s a great way to connect with people who can help, advise and inspire you, and to return the favour where you can, but these are your peers/friends/contacts; they’re not potential customers. Aside from celebrities, you do see people with thousands of followers, who are clearly marketing a product, but the value of these relationships (mostly generated by spam-like follow/auto-reply behaviour) is negligible.

My Facebook profile is for my real-life friends to stay in touch and let me know, passively in many cases, what they’re up to. Some friends have bought my book, but they were all connected with the project outside of Facebook. I put the odd post about the book on there if I feel it’s a noteworthy achievement, but otherwise, I don’t try to sell to my Facebook friends. If they wanted a copy, they’d have bought one; they’re not potential customers. I do see people on Facebook who are simply using it as a marketing tool, spamming my feed with link after link, but they get their asses hidden, if not blocked, pretty fast.

I set up a Facebook fan page for Make a Move, and again I didn’t know what my goal was. Now it’s a great way for people to follow my progress and get updates first when they’re not on Twitter. In almost every case, my fans have bought the book; they’re not potential customers.

So if these tools aren’t a source of potential customers, what value are they to my platform? None. Because, contrary to what most people will tell you, they’re not Platform; they’re Presence.

Connections

I wrote Make a Move for me. I published it to connect with people. I know that sounds trite, but I sure as hell ain’t doing it for the money. I want real connections – not the one-way street of supplier > customer. I want to have a conversation, to learn something, to be entertained, and my Presence provides the conduit for that. I hope people see my blogging/tweeting/posting as adding value to the Make a Move experience, and that it will keep people with me as I write more books, but I’m not selling anything. It’s just me, online, having fun.

A Time and a Place for Everything

Some of the more aggressive marketers out there would say I’m lazy and ineffectual in not exploiting every available avenue to sell books, but like I said, it’s not a sales channel; it’s just me, online, having fun. When I do want to sell books, I go to places that have a uniquely important resource: book buyers who haven’t read Make a Move yet. You can check out the list of online and offline places comprising my Platform here, but note the common factor; in every case, people go to those places primarily to buy books.

I’m smart that way…

I try not to give advice on my blog, just examples of what I’ve tried and what the outcome was, good or bad. So consider this an insight into my psyche rather than a piece of advice: I’m more than happy to talk, to listen, to collaborate, to drink and dance until the sun comes up, but nothing turns me off faster than the rancid odour of an underhand sales pitch. And I’m not the only one…

 

5 Things a Self-publishing Author Doesn’t Need

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

It seems there are a lot of things to spend money on in getting a printed book to market. Kind of like optional extras on your new car. If you’re going to make any money on a self-published book, you have to keep your unit cost as low as possible, so avoiding any unnecessary expenses is vital. Whenever you are considering whether to pay for something, look at the increase to your unit cost price and compare it with the chance it will increase sales. If you can’t see a guaranteed return on investment, don’t buy it. Here are 5 things I decided didn’t offer enough return:

  1. ISBN Numbers. Most independent booksellers don’t need a barcode to sell your book, and you certainly don’t to sell direct. So who uses a barcode? Amazon, Waterstones and supermarkets. If you can make a deal to supply to those retailers and stop your cost price being higher than theirs, you’re printing in such quantities that the £107 for ten ISBNs is negligible. In other words, if you need an ISBN, you can afford one; if you can’t afford one, you don’t need one. Apparently you need an ISBN to sell an eBook through Amazon Kindle or the other ePublishing services; yeah, eBooks are great…
  2. Author Photo. Before the internet, the author photo (and About the Author section) created brand identity and enhanced the connection with the reader. Now we have the internet. The only thing you need to print on the back cover/flap of your book is the address of your website. If you’ve decided you want an author photo, don’t pay a professional to take one. So many people have digital SLR cameras and photo editing software now that you must know someone who can take that photo for you. Professional photographers turn up and take perfectly framed and exposed photos on demand; you have the time to experiment until you get the shot you want. I’ll post soon with some tips on how to get better portrait shots with a variety of levels of photographic gear.
  3. Website. I’m lucky – I have a good friend who runs a web/graphic design company (Lemonaise) and is happy to help me out with my site, but even if you’re on your own, pre-built blogging platforms and services like WordPress, Tumblr, Blogger and so on are more than enough for establishing your web presence. Add a Twitter account and not only will you be expanding your reach, you’ll have access to thousands of people who’ve set up their own sites and offer links to help and advice. You don’t need to pay for a website (although you may choose to if you’re after something unique).
  4. Distribution. If you’re going to make enough money to give up your job, you need access to retailers. But if you have the tens of thousands of pounds it would cost to supply Amazon et al at the cost prices they’ll demand, and you can supply those books on sale or return terms, with no guarantee of sales, you probably don’t need to work anyway. So let’s discount distribution at that level as beyond out reach. Print on Demand (POD) companies such as Lulu allow you to sell to foreign territories, as the books are printed in the country to which they’re shipped when ordered. Access to the US market for a UK author is tempting (it’s not something I’ve completely discounted) but the profit per book is so low compared to printing the books yourself, I’m not sure it’s worth it. If you could establish sufficient reputation in a foreign market to sell a few thousand books, I’m not sure the time spent couldn’t have been spent pushing your book in your home market, at ten times the profit (I’m generalising on the numbers, but I’m not far off). “Local Author” is a brand that can sell books, and you should work hard to maximise the returns on that brand.
  5. Middlemen. We all need more middlemen, right? I don’t know too much about publishing services as I stop reading early whenever they’re mentioned. Forget vanity publishing, misleading branding or outright cons, there just isn’t enough profit on a small print run to leave room for anyone else to take a cut. You, the printer, your retailers; that’s the guestlist, and there isn’t room for crashers.

There are way more than 5 things you don’t need when you’re printing a book (swine flu is one I can advise against based on experience) but these are the main money-sinks I considered and discounted when planning my print run, and upon which I feel able to offer some insight. So what other ways can you suggest to keep that unit cost price as low as possible?