Little Books and Big Ambitions

I recently read an interesting post from Leigh Russell, author of the Geraldine Steel series, in which she reminds readers of the value of having a publisher. Having recently started work on a set of humour ebooks, along the lines of The Little Book of Cynics, I found myself smiling at her post.

She's right, of course, that having a publisher (and an agent, come to that) enables a writer to concentrate on what they do best (and enjoy the most!): writing. I'm an advocate of self-publishing, initially by necessity and now by choice. I submitted my fantasy, Covenant, to more agents and publishers than I could shake a manuscript at. There were one or two nibbles, but in the end none of them came to fruition. 

Books are written to be read, so what's a writer to do? I decided that publishing Covenant myself would provide several benefits:

1. It would give me a final version of the book, after a final, heroic edit. (A lovely idea, but for the 33 typos subsequently discovered and now fixed.)
2. It would put the book out there for public scrutiny, allowing for the prospect of feedback and reader engagement.
3. It would draw a line under the book and enable me, the writer, to breathe out a sigh of satisfaction and then go and start writing something else. (Or, in my case, spend time working on the other three novels.)
4. It would pave the way for book sales and all the good stuff we associate with being a successful writer. To date, I've had a magazine review Covenant and I've made some money.

However, as an indie / self publisher, you not only wear many hats, you're also responsible for not dropping any of them. You get 100% of the choice and 100% of the responsibility for making it all happen.

But we're skirting around one of the issues here; we're avoiding the literary elephant in the room. No, not this one - the other one: literary achievement. The argument runs that becoming a selfie will most likely end in financial disappointment, whereas conventional publishing... Well, that's the thing about publishing - there are no guarantees. Delving into any bargain bucket will show you that.

I think that writers need to have a mature conversation with themselves and with one another. We're not all going to the prom, as I'm fond of saying. In the cold light of day my fantasy, Covenant, will never trouble the bestseller list, regardless of how it's published. That doesn't mean it's without literary merit (however that's defined), or that it won't show a healthy profit over its lifespan. 

Not every book gets on the podium. There are so many factors at work  including context, timing, luck, connections and the actual style of writing. As a writer / author, you can only produce your best work and then put your work out there. (And then promote your book mercilessly!)

I decided to produce four little books because I'd written material that really didn't fit anywhere else. I did approach some humour publishers, but nothing materialised, apart from an honest and interesting conversation about the economics of impulse purchase / gift titles. Mindful of that discussion, I've opted for ebooks. It's an easier, lower cost route to market and, given the proliferation of devices and platforms, coupled with the unit price, it makes more sense.

My forthcoming quartet of ebooks comprises:
Man Up! The wisdom of ignorance. The male mind laid bare.
Wise Up! Modern wisdom for those with a short attention span.
Newsclash. Real news stories + boredom = satire.
The Little Read Book of Project Management. An alternative glossary of terms.

I'll announce the birth of my other little darlings on my personal blog, over at www.alongthewritelines.blogspot.co.uk

Cynic no more

We'll always respect our first...

I'll never forget that first, magical book contract.

David French and I had been producing our own satirical magazine, As Above So Below, for a few years - a mixture of cartoons, spoof articles, quizzes, ads and interviews. But we wanted to break into print.

I was already experimenting with one-liners and slogans, and we liked to subvert popular sayings, so it seemed logical to put a collection together. Once we had around 100 quotes - some of which had originally appeared in the mag - I set about contacting every 'Little Book' publisher I could find. To our great suprise, one wrote back with an encouraging response. They said they had no budget left for that year, but they'd be willing to consider us for the following year's list.

Wind forward an exchange of letters and a year later, and we had a contract. We read it through carefully because we'd never even heard of a buy-out before. For the unitiated, it means they own your book lock, stock and barrel. Instead of royalties, they give you a one-off payment. I spoke with the Society of Authors and we went back to the publisher to try to get an improved offer, but their terms were standard.

After much deliberation we decided, based on the fact that half the material had already been in our magazine, that it was worth taking up their offer. Besides, it was effectively just a collection of 100 or so gags, and I knew from personal experience back then that gags were hard to sell unless you had contacts.

When the free copies of the book arrived, we were really disappointed with the graphics and cover design. I'm not sure what we were expecting, but that wasn't it. The cheque was nice though, even though it was split two ways.

Only later, as I waded deeper into the world of writing and publishing, did I realise how lucky we'd been. Easy to write, published on time, and with payment forthcoming, The Little Book of Cynics was a lovely introduction into the world of paid writing.

LBoC also opened the doors to a whole range of experiences: 

1. There was the book signing, where friends in Glastonbury bought in dozens of copies and watched as we sold three copies in a day. An event not recorded in any of the local newspapers, despite my press releases. 

2. The Little Book was also partly responsible for an interview I did on comedy writing with BBC Cornwall (where we were bounced off early because a dog was coming in to promote the Dog Olympics - I kid you not). 

3. And, more positively, LBoC remains a calling card, which I've no doubt has helped me procure freelance work across the web and in the real world.

The most important lesson about the Little Book of Cynics is that you never know where an opportunity will take you. I believe the book is out of print now, so if you were one of those people in Glastonbury, with a signed copy, it could be worth something one day.