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.

I’m going to do something utterly pretentious; I’m going to quote from my book.

“You can’t make things better or worse, just different. Make a move. See what happens.”

When I first wrote that, I was trying to encapsulate a character’s attitude to finding himself in a bad place, but it’s become something of a mantra for me since. As I write, I’m waiting on the jacket proof for a small (100) run of hardbacks I’ve ordered, and even now, it’s hard to remember the point at which I decided to print the book myself. I know I’d pretty much given up on the idea of getting a book deal in the current market (Make a Move is NOT supermarket-friendly) and wanted to do something while I wait for the industry to open its doors to new writers again, so I did the maths, found the cash, the technical knowledge and the friends to help, and I placed the order. My break-even point is comfortable, and I’ve got a lot of pre-orders.

But what if it all goes wrong? Well, so what if it does go wrong? Completely wrong. I’m out a few hundred quid, I’ve got a couple of boxes of books to pulp/store and I’ve got a bruised ego to salve. But does it really matter?

No. My biggest obstacle right now – that the publishing industry knows nothing of my book – is also my safety net. I can’t damage my reputation with this project, only enhance it. Even if the run sells out and I reprint, no one in publishing will care. It doesn’t matter. My only goals are to get my book out to people and have some fun doing it, maybe meet some new people and learn something. I can achieve all of those goals whether the project succeeds or not, and I love no-lose situations.

You don’t have to become a print publisher to get your work out there – although I’ll be writing about my experiences and findings to help you if that’s the path you choose. There are many paths available now, and if you’re prepared to do the work, and have modest ambitions, you can achieve success. And if you find a path isn’t taking you where you thought, choose a different one.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“What is a Publisher? ?The Publisher is generally the person or body who takes the financial risk in making a product available. For example, if a product went on sale and sold no copies at all, the Publisher is usually the person or body who loses money. If you get paid anyway, you are likely to be a designer, printer, author or consultant of some kind.”

I lifted that from www.isbn.nielsenbook.co.uk – the people who’ll sort you out with an ISBN number (that you DON’T NEED) in the UK. It gives a good definition of what a publisher is, and if we’re extrapolating to define self-publishing, with “self” being you, you need to make sure you fit that description.

I’m assuming you’re also the author in this equation; if you’re not, you’re just a publisher, in which case you’ve got your own problems to deal with.

A self-publishing author, therefore, is someone paying to have his or her book printed. Note “printed”, not “published”. There’s a difference.

So what other acts of publication are routinely lumped in under the self-publishing umbrella?

Print on Demand (POD)
I looked into POD, and on the surface, it’s a great idea. A customer orders a book, it’s printed, and you get paid. Kind of. The returns on POD aren’t great, as there’s essentially a printer, publisher and distributer in the queue ahead of you taking a bite out of your pie. If you’ve written a non-fiction book on a specialist subject that you can sell for £20 or upward in paperback, POD can get you in touch with a large market quickly, and you can make a lot of cash. Otherwise, it’s fine as a hobby.

Publishing Services
I don’t know much about these, as the idea is flawed so I’ve never explored any further. When you send a submission off to a publishing house, you’re hoping they agree to print your book and send you a cheque for a couple of grand, not ask for a cheque and expect you to do all the marketing. Whichever way you look at it, this route is closest to the traditional view of vanity publishing.

Online Publication/Podcasting
This is a great way to get your work out there, and you’re in control. Unfortunately, until someone invents a replicator like they had in Star Trek that can knock up a printed book when you click download, there’s no good way to monetise this, and who wants to give their hard work away for free? EBooks? Kindle? I’ll leave those for another post.

Self-publishing, to me at least, means doing it yourself. You pay to get the books printed, you arrange retail or sell direct, and you handle the distribution. It’s a lot of work – a LOT of work – and there is significant financial risk involved, but – and here’s the important part for me – it’s a lot of fun!

Take control, get involved, learn the skills, meet the people, make a move. If you think your book is strong enough to risk £500-£1000 of your own money, and you have the enthusiasm, then find a printer, become a publisher yourself and collect 100% of the royalties. After tax…

I’m going to write about everything I experience in getting my book printed and into readers’ hands, so maybe I’ll be able to help with the technical aspects of how it’s done – the typesetting, print-ready pdf generation, ISBN numbers, copyright, and so on – but as for that stake money, yeah… you’re on your own.