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have both put out work online for free download, and who are both “out there”, and that it originated from a number of unpublished, unrepresented, unfinished writers.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.

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.