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Archive for the ‘Opinion’ Category

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…

 

I Smash Pads

Tuesday, March 30th, 2010

I was disappointed when Apple released the iPad. Not because it sucks in any way, but because I was hoping for a new idea – something that hadn’t been done before. Functionally and physically, the iPad is just a large iPod Touch; there’s nothing new about it – it’s just more of something we could already buy. I wanted it to do something mind-blowing, something that would create or revolutionise a market. Like I said, I was disappointed.

One area I thought Apple might explore, given their history of placing pro-level creative tools into the hands of amateurs, is publishing. Maybe adding an iPublish app to the iLife suite that would allow you to upload magazine layouts or text from their Pages app to create online magazines or eBooks for sale from their online store. Maybe iPublish would let you take the podcast you could already create in Garageband and upload it to the iTunes Music Store. I’m just thinking out loud here, like I was back then, but that’s the kind of market shift I was hoping for. There’s still time for them to do this – the iLife suite is overdue for an update, and could be released soon after the iPad with a new twist to offer, but it’s not looking likely.

Then, two days ago, I realised that Apple had actually delivered that market shift; they signed a distribution deal with Smashwords. I know that Amazon have allowed writers to publish directly on the Kindle store for a while, but you need a US bank account to do it, which shuts out a lot of people. Apple have removed the last obstacles to any writer reaching their readers. By signing a deal with an independent distributor of independently published books, Apple have removed all need for publishers and agents. Notice that I said need, not want; there’s every chance the iBook store will devolve into the same morasse as the App Store, so there’s still a strong argument for the consistent “quality” that the traditional publishing machine can deliver, but as long as I can buy a title of the quality of Doom Resurrection in the App Store, there’s hope for its literary neighbour.

This isn’t “the death of traditional publishing”, but something big did just happen. Where we all go from here is anyone’s guess; I’m sure that Apple like to think they know, but they can’t predict what readers are going to choose any more than I can. And Smashwords aren’t predicting anything; they’re just enabling the rest of us.

The Results of My eValuation

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010

When Amazon released the Kindle application for the Mac last week, I downloaded and installed it, then went onto the store to see what was available. I wanted to see what the fuss was about. I found some bestsellers around the $10 mark (yes, I have to buy in dollars and stitch a commission when my credit card company performs the exchange) and a lot around the $0 mark. As in, a LOT of free eBooks. Guess which I bought?
Neither. I went to the Amazon UK store and ordered a couple of paperbacks instead. Seriously – I’m not just trying to make a point.
My thinking was this:
BULLET $10, with an exchange commission, is about £7 on my credit card bill. That’s almost the price of a new release paperback in Waterstones. On Amazon UK, I can get the same paperback for between £4 and £5 if I don’t mind waiting a couple of days for free delivery (and bear in mind that this is a book for my reading pile, not music or a movie; I can wait). If I don’t get the physical book to keep, I’m not prepared to pay more than half of the cover price for an eBook edition, so for an £8 print book, my eLimit is £4.
BULLET A price of $0 tells me that you don’t think your book is worth anything. I understand that writers want to build a fanbase and get “sales”, but a fanbase of people who “bought” your book for free is simply a list of people who downloaded your book. They didn’t pay for it, so there’s no compulsion to read it and extract value from it. And if you spent 2 years writing it, and don’t think it’s even worth one penny, why should they risk 10-12 hours of their time reading it when there are books to be read by authors who think their work is good enough to justify charging a fee in return for their time, writing skills and creativity? I know authors whose only goal is be as widely read as possible, and I admire that goal, but I’m not sure giving your work away for free is the way to do it. 1000 unread downloads doesn’t generate word-of-mouth. How about charging one dollar and giving the proceeds to charity (and making the charitable nature of the sale clear in the online store)? Now that would probably sell and be read.
I know that the eBook market is aimed more at customers using eReader devices, but I wanted to buy a book, and if I factor in the price of hardware, that first eBook purchase is going to cost over £200, with no guaranteed savings over the following years to cover that outlay.  And I can get the same book on Amazon UK for £4…
So, my first foray into eBooks was a non-starter. I tried, honestly I did. I looked around and read some blurbs and compared some prices, but couldn’t find a price point I was happy with for a book that interested me. I was disappointed.
So how has this affected my opinion on whether to publish Make a Move as an eBook? Find out tomorrow…

When Amazon released the Kindle application for the Mac last week, I downloaded and installed it, then went onto the store to see what was available. I wanted to see what the fuss was about. I found some bestsellers around the $10 mark (yes, I have to buy in dollars and stitch a commission when my credit card company performs the exchange) and a lot around the $0 mark. As in, a LOT of free eBooks. Guess which I bought?

Neither. I went to the Amazon UK store and ordered a couple of paperbacks instead. Seriously – I’m not just trying to make a point.

My thinking was this:

  • $10, with an exchange commission, is about £7 on my credit card bill. That’s almost the price of a new release paperback in Waterstones. On Amazon UK, I can get the same paperback for between £4 and £5 if I don’t mind waiting a couple of days for free delivery (and bear in mind that this is a book for my reading pile, not music or a movie; I can wait). If I don’t get the physical book to keep, I’m not prepared to pay more than half of the cover price for an eBook edition, so for an £8 print book, my eLimit is £4.
  • A price of $0 tells me that you don’t think your book is worth anything. I understand that writers want to build a fanbase and get “sales”, but a fanbase of people who “bought” your book for free is simply a list of people who downloaded your book. They didn’t pay for it, so there’s no compulsion to read it and extract value from it. And if you spent 2 years writing it, and don’t think it’s even worth one penny, why should they risk 10-12 hours of their time reading it when there are books to be read by authors who think their work is good enough to justify charging a fee in return for their time, writing skills and creativity? I know authors whose only goal is be as widely read as possible, and I admire that goal, but I’m not sure giving your work away for free is the way to do it. 1000 unread downloads doesn’t generate word-of-mouth. How about charging one dollar and giving the proceeds to charity (and making the charitable nature of the sale clear in the online store)? Now that would probably sell and be read.

I know that the eBook market is aimed more at customers using eReader devices, but I wanted to buy a book, and if I factor in the price of hardware, that first eBook purchase is going to cost over £200, with no guaranteed savings over the following years to cover that outlay.  And I can get the same book on Amazon UK for £4…

So, my first foray into eBooks was a non-starter. I tried, honestly I did. I looked around and read some blurbs and compared some prices, but couldn’t find a price point I was happy with for a book that interested me. I was disappointed.

So how has this affected my opinion on whether to publish Make a Move as an eBook? Find out tomorrow…

The Pace of Independence

Friday, March 19th, 2010

I’ve taken my foot off the marketing gas this last couple of weeks. Balancing writing and promoting is difficult at the best of times, but I let disharmony creep into my domestic life, and that’s been eating away at my free time. Now that I’ve been able to straighten out my schedule, I’m back in the game, but with an air of tension that I’ve somehow damaged my reputation as a self-publisher by not pushing the book as hard as I could have. It’s not been a complete washout – one of my retailers called to ask for more books – but I have this feeling that I could have, and should have, done more. I was beating myself up over this failure, when I came to a realisation.
This project is running to my schedule.
This mantra of promote, promote, promote didn’t originate in my world – it came from publishers of music, books and films who have moved from a position of developing artists over time, to looking for a fast return. If your debut album bombs, you’re done. If a movie underperforms on its opening weekend, it’s a flop. The big publishing houses are still putting marketing money behind significant releases, but that window is narrow, with other book slots chasing it, and that title has to hit big in its allotted time. No one cares about letting a product find its market through word of mouth any more, as it takes too long.
Word of mouth is everything to me for two reasons. First, I don’t have access to national/international physical distribution, and second, I want my book to find the readers who will love it, and I know they’ll love it because it’s been recommended by friends who know their tastes.
Word of mouth takes time to build. A long time. And I have that time, as I don’t have to provide an immediate return on this title. Yes, I’m mad that these last two weeks have been unproductive, and yes, I’m working my ass off to catch up, but I’m not stressing about it anymore. There is no deadline.
Not that I’m being complacent, and allowing apathy to creep in. I’m just seeing this project for what it is: my life.

I’ve taken my foot off the marketing gas this last couple of weeks. Balancing writing and promoting is difficult at the best of times, but I let disharmony creep into my domestic life, and that’s been eating away at my free time. Now that I’ve been able to straighten out my schedule, I’m back in the game, but with an air of tension that I’ve somehow damaged my reputation as a self-publisher by not pushing the book as hard as I could have. It’s not been a complete washout – one of my retailers called to ask for more books – but I have this feeling that I could have, and should have, done more. I was beating myself up over this failure, when I came to a realisation.

This project is running to my schedule.

This mantra of promote, promote, promote didn’t originate in my world – it came from publishers of music, books and films who have moved from a position of developing artists over time, to looking for a fast return. If your debut album bombs, you’re done. If a film underperforms on its opening weekend, it’s a flop. The big publishing houses are still putting marketing money behind significant releases, but that window is narrow, with other book slots chasing it, and that title has to hit big in its allotted time. No one cares about letting a product find its market through word of mouth any more, as it takes too long.

Word of mouth is everything to me for two reasons. First, I don’t have access to national/international physical distribution, and second, I want my book to find the readers who will love it, and I know they’ll love it because it’s been recommended by friends who know their tastes.

Word of mouth takes time to build. A long time. And I have that time, as I don’t have to provide an immediate return on this title. Yes, I’m mad that these last two weeks have been unproductive, and yes, I’m working my ass off to catch up, but I’m not stressing about it anymore. There is no deadline.

Not that I’m being complacent, and allowing apathy to creep in. I’m just seeing this project for what it is: my life.

Adverbs are for Children

Monday, February 22nd, 2010

It’s a curious coincidence that somebody sent me this link today, as I’ve been planning a post on writing tips for a while now. The problem is, I’m not a big fan of writing tips, as writing is such a personal endeavour, I think it’s incredibly pompous to think that what works for you has value for others. Also, people love to give advice whether there’s any worth to their ideas or not; the joy, for them, is in the giving.

So, this post isn’t writing advice; it’s just some changes I made to my writing and life styles that got me through Make a Move, and that are on my mind as I plan book two. Maybe there’s something in here that will inspire you to make your own changes.

The List

  • Don’t plan in too much detail. If you already know every last plot detail of a book, there’s nothing left for you, as the author, to discover. If the writing of a book isn’t filled with delights and surprises, it’s just work, and most day jobs pay better.
  • Make it as easy as possible to write. For me, this meant buying a new battery for my laptop and taking it with me everywhere. A lot of people create a sanctuary of creativity in which to work – a haven of peace and inspiration. If you need that to write, what are you doing when you’re not in it?
  • Stop watching tv. Okay – this was one bit of advice I did take on board from Stephen King (in his book, On Writing), but I added my own twist. I like tv – I think Make a Move would make a great tv show, so I’m not going to dismiss it, either as an art form or a source of inspiration. What I did instead was to break my watching habits so I watch a show in my own time, rather than when it’s on. I have Sky+ for that, but there are many ways to “time-shift” your viewing (legally…): HD/DVD recorders, catch-up tv services, hell – even a VCR. The trick is to get out of that mentality that tells you “it’s 9pm, time for show X”; that hard stop is like an incoming truck ready to crush your productivity. And try to limit yourself to having one or two shows on the go at a time unless you’re working to a 30-hour day.
  • Create demand. The first book you write has nobody waiting on it, so the only pressure to complete it comes from within. If you can, deliver it to your first readers in stages, so that their expectation for subsequent parts is driving you. Make a Move is written in six episodes, so it’s perfect for this, but any book can be broken up during the writing. Those smaller project goals make it easier to keep going too.
  • Write something new. Okay – this is a contentious one, but it applies to me, and that’s what this list is about. If you’re writing your own take on a story that’s already in print, all you’re doing is walking in someone else’s footprints, and chances are, their story was pretty good (or why else did you read it) so you’re setting the bar even higher than it needs to be. My biggest issue with this approach is that I feel like I’m copying/rehashing/riding coat-tails (choose a term based on which is least offensive to you), and I can’t think of anything more likely to sap energy and creativity. If you think you’re in familiar territory, make it REALLY different. Play with textures of writing, with readers’ expectations. Break the rules. And if you’re convinced that you can’t get away from that previous work, ask yourself if there’s even a need for your book. Maybe you should move onto the next idea instead.

Like I said, this isn’t advice; it’s just a summary of the thought processes that got me where I needed to be, but like I said above, people love to give advice, so I’m going to give in to temptation and share one cast-iron writing tip:

Adverbs are for children.

The Divide Could Be Great

Wednesday, February 10th, 2010

I was reading this blog post earlier about how only professionals can give a manuscript the full attention it needs to see it into a complete, quality book, and I was getting pretty pissed until I realised it was sarcasm. In hindsight, it’s a great post. It got me thinking though…

The commercial viability of books, and how some books are too niche to sell enough copies to justify the setup costs, is one of the main arguments of the “gatekeepers” – those who decide who does and doesn’t warrant a book deal, namely agents and editors. It’s a fair point; if a book is going to lose money, you’d hope they wouldn’t print it, especially if you have shares in their employer. It’s a shame, then, that so many vocal supporters of the gatekeeper model are so negative about the alternative – namely indie publication (whether small-press or self-published). Books published through these channels are so often dismissed as “not good enough”, but the fact that they could just be “too niche” is never considered.

I don’t think Make a Move is niche (in fact, my current readership is more diverse than I dared to hope for) so this isn’t about me. It’s about a segregated market – and the colour and variety that can provide – being hindered by a curious, self-defeating world view of the mainstream.

I’m not sure what the cause of this view is, but whenever I see some unfair disparity in a situation involving massive numbers of unconnected people, I just assume it’s fear, and it usually is. I know that makes me sound old and bitter (I’m 35, and reasonably equanimous) but I’m pretty sure it’s the case here. Maybe it’s the fear that with the advent of eBooks, there’ll never be another Harry Potter (there won’t – piracy guarantees it) but maybe the real fear is that we might see a literary Blair Witch Project. Now that would upset the apple cart.

It’s not a polished theory, but it’s an interesting notion, and one I’m going to explore more.

Thoughts?

Going Non-linear

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2010

There’s an established process to take you from writing a book to it reaching a reader’s hands, and it goes like this: submit to an agent > agent pitches book to publisher > publisher buys, prints and distributes the book. There’s more to it than that, obviously, but that’s the bare bones (and I’m ignoring the option of bypassing the agent step as although there’s a chance of getting a deal by going direct to a publisher, 0.0001% is zero in my book). From the moment you step outside of your story-in-progress to research your potential markets and study the process, you’re conditioned to believe that this is the only route to success (not your definition of success, mind you, but everyone else’s) and that failing to make it through this process is failure.

Fair enough. Money and celebrity – or lack of – seem to be the benchmarks for success in modern culture, so let’s assume the masses know something I don’t.

So what if you can’t make it through that process, and you’re stuck without an agent? Would you keep trying for a year? Of course. How about 10 years? Maybe. How about your whole life? What if the inability to get a deal on your first book is mentally holding you back from writing your second? Would you blow your entire career waiting for someone to give you a chance?

Or would you try something else?

The Past

I submitted Make a Move to 5 agents and publishers. These were people/companies who’d expressed a taste for the kind of work my book vaguely falls into, so I thought they’d be worth a try. As I’ve said before, Make a Move is a hard sell, and I targeted people I thought would give it more than the cursory look it needs to understand why it exists. I got stock rejections from all but one of them. I was ok with that, as I’d prepared myself for that rejection, but I admit I was disappointed. A bit.

About that time, people were arriving in my life who helped me break out of that linear mindset, and stimulated me to look at other options. Readjust my perspective. Break out of the box. I recalibrated my definition of success and what my goals were in getting Make a Move out. I looked at the money in my bank account, decided that having more of it wasn’t going to make me any happier, and thought hard about what I needed from my writing. I needed connections. Ideas. Human interaction. Life.

And all of those things were there for the taking, without needing a single nod of approval from anyone in “the process”.

It’s been two months since I released Make a Move, and in that time I’ve met more cool people than I have in the previous two years. I’ve created relationships. I’ve given people ideas. I’ve changed.

The Present

I received some comments today that implied that I’m nothing more than a vanity publisher, and that my book, by definition, must bite. It’s not the first time. What was scary to witness though, was that the negativity was aimed at myself, and another writer, who have both put out work online for free download, and who are both “out there”, and that it originated from a number of unpublished, unrepresented, unfinished writers. It’s the internet, and we all know the joke about arguing on the internet, so I left it, withdrew with my honour intact, and thought about what I’d learned. And what I learned is this:

People need the validation the system gives them, as they’re too scared to say “my work is good enough to sell”. They cling to that system, even when it steals their productive years from them. Sure, the system keeps mediocre or even terrible books off the shelves, but there are more good writers than there are publishing slots, so good writers – good people – are going to be left behind.

The Future

I’m not turning my back on the system – I’d love to land a deal with a reputable publisher who could get me into the big retailers – but I’m not waiting around either. I’ll send some more submissions once I have time, but I know that establishing a readership is probably the only way I’ll find someone willing to give Make a Move a read with a view to taking it on. A lot of people dedicated to the process would call that arrogant; I call it self-aware. A lot of people would say I’ve given up; I say I’ve opened myself up to possibilities.

I’ve been thinking for some time that I’m too tuned-in to the internet and the ideas and opinions of its denizens, and today confirmed that. I’ve found a few good people online whose opinions I know I can trust, but aside from them, I’m going to tune out the noise . Take a step back and focus. Enjoy this new clarity.

I’m going to go non-linear for a while.

Digital Values, Or Lack Of

Friday, January 22nd, 2010

Not many publishers or agents accept email submissions, so it was refreshing to find an increasing number doing so when I began submitting Make a Move. Paper submissions take time to prepare and are relatively expensive to both produce and post (twice), so it was with some relief that I sent my first four or five email submissions out alongside a reduced number of paper-based queries. A lot of the publishers accepting submissions by email are independent, demonstrating their flexibility and willingness to stray from the traditional path when they see value in doing so, and the majority responded promptly with a stock rejection.

So far so good.

One indie publisher I queried seemed particularly well-thought-of, having won awards for their trade, and were advertising a willingness to view work of the type I was sending, so I had high hopes that this might be “The One”. I was reminded of that submission a couple of days ago when I received an email advertising their print-on-demand service, the second (or third?) I’ve received from them. Their service is actually a bit more than print on demand, as they’re offering to pick up top-selling POD titles with a “traditional” contract, so they’re effectively asking you to pay some money, do all of their marketing, promotion and market research for them, and they’ll step in at the last moment to pick up a sure-fire hit. Good business for them, but not for me, so I passed.

Thing is, this is the only communication I received following my submission about nine months ago. I didn’t even get a rejection letter.

If I was feeling charitable, I’d suggest a slip on their part that is not the normal way they treat people, but I’m not feeling charitable today, so I can only see it as a marketing ploy of questionable ethics. They offer a potential publishing opportunity, attract a market of writers keen to get published in an increasingly impenetrable industry, and make it as easy as possible for you to give them your email address for their direct marketing. That first advertising email from them shattered a few illusions I had, and I felt thoroughly let down, to the point that I’ve only now felt able to write about it dispassionately.

One other publisher failed to respond, but they’re much bigger and, to be honest, it’s easier to dismiss if you’re expecting it, but that’s kind of the point of this post. Email is easy and free, and that perceived lack of value impacts on how people behave in response to it. If you send a paper submission with return postage, the recipient is compelled to respond, but with email, it hasn’t cost you anything, so people find it easier to let their manners slip.

I wrote before about how the perception of poor quality in one self-published book affects all self-publishing writers negatively, and I don’t want to reinforce negative preconceptions about independent publishers and small presses by suggesting this behaviour is commonplace. It isn’t, and most indies are far more open and engaged than their larger, traditional counterparts, and should be a valid, if not preferred, target for your submissions. Just take care, do your research, and don’t be surprised if your eSubmission fails to find its way back to you.

And, no, I’m not naming names.

Why Self-publish?

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

Word of mouth has now carried Make a Move as far as friends-of-friends, and yesterday I heard that a friend recommended the book to someone, only to be told “not a self-published book; they’re just badly written ego-trips”. You could say the same thing about most celebrity autobiographies, and they’re selling okay… Fortunately, the person in question was open-minded enough to listen to a counter-argument, and not only did he accept that well-written work can be self-published, he also bought a copy. It’s something I’ve encountered before, and will again, but coupled with a number of blog posts I’ve read this week explaining why the authors self-published, it made me think it was time I justify my decision.

The Reasons

The following reasons are not stating why you should self-publish; they’re just why I did.

  • Make a Move is a VERY difficult pitch, which means it’s hard for an agent to work out how to sell it to publishers, and it’s hard for publishers to work out how to sell it to customers. Try this on for size: it’s a thriller populated by slackers, it’s about spies, but there’s little-to-no spycraft; it’s set in a porno cinema, but it’s not smutty, and the narrative structure is stolen from a sit-com. Would you pick it up for publication? Explaining the book takes time, and doesn’t fit into the paragraph or two available on a cover letter, so I decided to get the book out there, so it might find readers with the time to explore and understand it, who could then pass that knowledge on, and eventually word might reach an agent or editor looking for something different. Of course, editors aren’t looking for something different, they’re looking for something “original”, which I guess means different things to different people, but publishing is in flux right now, and who knows what opportunities that could create.
  • Even if I could get a book deal, it wouldn’t pay very much. I’ve read the figures and I know the chances of getting a bestseller and being able to write full-time. Looking at it pragmatically, it ain’t gonna happen. I enjoy my day-job and it pays well, so if I’m not trying to get the book published for money, why give up the rights and control when I can do this myself? A lot of the process of self-publishing is hard work, but there’s a lot of fun to be had too. And I don’t need a publisher to arrange the fun stuff, such as networking and promotion. I’ve met some cool people in Manchester since I started this process, and while I’m in control, there’s no reason that can’t continue. As long as I’m chasing fun and not money, I can’t go wrong.
  • Make a Move is the first in a series of 3-or-so books, and that series is dead while the first instalment is stagnating on my hard disk. I NEEDED to get the book out. I’ve nearly sold out the first print run, which means I’ll soon have 100 readers. Then I’ll have 200 (my target). Then I’ll have 1000 (my dream). That’s impetus enough to keep writing these characters, and that’s really all this is about. Me, Freddy, Jay and Holly, seeing how far we can take this.

So that’s honestly why I made this choice. You should make it for different reasons, as it’s your time and money you’re investing, and those reasons have to sustain you when times get hard. And they will get hard. But as long as you’re doing it for reasons that are right for you, there’ll be easy, fun, fulfilling, creative times too.

The Road to eQuilibrium

Friday, January 8th, 2010

eBooks are an interesting concept for me, as they potentially solve a problem I have: the only way to ship books to international markets (such as the US) economically, is in bulk, and I’m not dealing in bulk, so those markets are closed to me. I’ve been looking into eBook platforms as a way into those markets, but the eBook market is barely more than nascent. If anything, it’s childlike. Any effort I put into ePublishing will yield a fraction of the return I could get by marketing my printed book in the UK. There might be a time when the market is mature enough to allow a self-publishing writer to receive a good return on their efforts, but it’s a long way off. I can see a point where eBooks and printed books will coexist, satisfying the needs of a varied readership, but I don’t think it’s as imminent as some others appear to.

The Hurdles

Before the eBook market becomes a serious contender, I can see a series of hurdles holding back mass acceptance:

  • FreeBooks. The race to the bottom has seen most books by independent or minor authors on sale for jack – $0. Trading financial remuneration for exposure, these authors/publishers have driven the market into the ground, to the point where the content has been so devalued, even if people do start charging again, it’s going to take a long time before customers are prepared to pay.
  • Loss-leading. At the other end of the scale, blockbuster titles are selling at heavily discounted prices; for example, at time of writing, the Twilight novels are selling on the Kindle store for just north of $5. This means that even if customers are prepared to pay more than nothing for a book, you’re very soon going to hit a ceiling beyond which you can’t charge. There’s no market in that gap.
  • Format Wars. A slew of new eBook readers arrived at the CES show this week, and with them comes an increasing number of conflicting eBook formats and DRM systems. I don’t know exactly how many formats, as I don’t care, which is my point. Customers don’t want to be restricted in what they can and can’t do with their content, and don’t want to be stuck with hundreds of pounds-worth of eBooks that only work on a dying platform. There has to be consolidation, and it has to happen quickly, otherwise the market will be dead before it’s started (look at what happened to HD DVD: people waited and waited to see which format would become the standard, to the point where they gave up waiting, and now the winner also the loser).
  • Publisher Acceptance. The book publishing industry is chasing its tail trying to work out how to survive in the digital real, and they’re not, in my opinion, playing it smart. When Apple launched the iTunes Music Store, they became the gatekeepers to a way around the music piracy problem; the record companies needed Apple, and as a result they got reamed on the deal. The book industry doesn’t have a problem – at least, not to the same extent – yet they seem to be elevating Amazon to a position of power. It’s not like book pirates are scanning books in their bedrooms and uploading the pdfs to torrent sites. So why are the publishing companies letting Amazon lead them in this dance? They need to work out a deal in which everyone, and not just the technology manufacturers, benefits and books, and good writing, don’t become the innocent casualties. Then they could focus on how to market and manage this new product. Of course, if the publishers realised that by joining together for a common good, they could kill off eBooks within a month by refusing to move to a digital platform. But that would be naughty.

I’m not anti-eBooks. Not really. I think eBook textbooks for students are an amazing concept, and newspapers/magazines could flourish in the digital space. And I do know a few people who read a lot and don’t want to own the paper books, and they could be a good niche market for eBook publishers. Whatever happens, I just want it to be over. All of this wrestling to establish the market, it only really harms consumers, and it seems that, as always, the media companies are fine with that.

But this is books, not pop music, and not Hollywood movies. There’s always been a certain legitimacy associated with the book industry – an element of class. How about we keep that traditional image intact, and just get this done as quickly, and as painlessly as possible?