This novel I've been banging on about - you might have gathered by now that I'm self-publishing. Why wouldn't I? I've learned enough about the technology and marketing pitfalls through the travel writing, so that bit doesn't daunt me.
But I did make a brief foray into traditional publishing - mainly in the hope that someone else would fund the editing. It was, mostly, a grim business. Not because there was no enthusiasm - on the contrary. Out of eight submissions (one agent, seven independent publishers) I was asked for six full manuscripts. Which is enough to tell me this can't be total twaddle.
It also took forever. With one exception, it disappeared into a publishing abyss for months. I'd send gentle reminders (that balance between not wanting to be pushy and suggesting that they treat me with respect). And each time, eventually, that 'we love it, but we just don't love it enough' arrived.
But I do want to highlight the exception: The Linen Press. I sent it to them because I'd read in an interview with the main editor in Mslexia, and she came across as kind and funny and honest. She responded to my query within days, asking for a full manuscript. And the rejection came within two weeks - and with it a comment about my complex sentences.
Pah, I thought. What does she know? Besides, no one had ever said that to me before, and so it was no doubt her way of being kind.
And then I looked again at the opening paragraph of the novel - and there, right in the middle of it, was a dog's dinner of a sentence.
It was one of many back-to-the-beginning moments. I went back to the manuscript, and unpicked it line after line. I knew what I was trying to say - but would anyone else? So I owe them a huge thank you.
It has, since, been through a number of readers (and countless rewrites) and then I bit the bullet and found an editor. That has been another learning curve, as she asked about lost characters (I knew where they were, but had to admit that maybe they weren't on the page). Plus one character who, she felt, needed active retribution that went far beyond feeling a bit miserable.
And now I am on the home straight. My editor has been poorly recently, which has set things back a little. But, give me a week or several, and The Planter's Daughter will be ready to go!
Showing posts with label self-publishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-publishing. Show all posts
Sunday, 6 November 2016
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
Publishing ebooks.
I've had an email from someone asking me to blog about my experience of self-publishing on Kindle - the pros, the cons, and is it cost-effective. So - here goes.
I must begin by saying that this is only my experience. There are thousands of us uploading, downloading, groaning into our cocoa trying to make the bloody technology work and then realising we forgot to press the save button ... We all have different stories to tell.
The decision to self-publish was easy: I won a place on a mentoring scheme, as a result of which Over the Hill was lashed into shape. It was my mentor who told me that, ten years ago, I would have found a publisher. But not now - I'm neither young nor famous. But this was good enough to see the light of day and so I should do it myself. So I did - there are some early blogposts of the general angst but I made it.
And don't regret it. I've made mistakes, learned along the way, but have generally enjoyed myself. Putting the second book on Kindle was an easier decision: it's too short to be a print book but was such fun to write it made sense to give Over the Hill a follow-up.
But - there has to be a 'but' - is it cost-effective? It's not going to make me rich. In fact, if I cost the time it took the write, then paying the copy editor, then the time formatting and uploading, then it's a crazy way to spend my time if I want to make money. Amazon, of course, makes money. Cheap books (less than $3.50, I think) earn me only 35% - so that's 35p for a book costing £1; that's how many books to pay for one cup of coffee? And how many cups of coffee are needed to write one book? Pricier books earn 70%, but you still have to sell them in the hundreds or more to make serious money. Mine are niche books - they are never going to sell in huge numbers. (Well, would they if I spent hours marketing? I'll never know - that's the bit I'm truly rubbish at).
So, why do it? I'm lucky - and I know it. I have enough to live on and so am not dependent on my writing to pay the grocery bill. I can do it because it's fun, because I love it when people send emails saying they've enjoyed the book, or asking more about my travels - and yes, emails that prompted this post. And because I love the writing - I can make myself laugh. (I am already working out how to write a trip to the physio where I must ask her to get my knees strong enough to manage squat toilets ...)
That's how it was for me. How was it for you?
I must begin by saying that this is only my experience. There are thousands of us uploading, downloading, groaning into our cocoa trying to make the bloody technology work and then realising we forgot to press the save button ... We all have different stories to tell.
The decision to self-publish was easy: I won a place on a mentoring scheme, as a result of which Over the Hill was lashed into shape. It was my mentor who told me that, ten years ago, I would have found a publisher. But not now - I'm neither young nor famous. But this was good enough to see the light of day and so I should do it myself. So I did - there are some early blogposts of the general angst but I made it.
And don't regret it. I've made mistakes, learned along the way, but have generally enjoyed myself. Putting the second book on Kindle was an easier decision: it's too short to be a print book but was such fun to write it made sense to give Over the Hill a follow-up.
But - there has to be a 'but' - is it cost-effective? It's not going to make me rich. In fact, if I cost the time it took the write, then paying the copy editor, then the time formatting and uploading, then it's a crazy way to spend my time if I want to make money. Amazon, of course, makes money. Cheap books (less than $3.50, I think) earn me only 35% - so that's 35p for a book costing £1; that's how many books to pay for one cup of coffee? And how many cups of coffee are needed to write one book? Pricier books earn 70%, but you still have to sell them in the hundreds or more to make serious money. Mine are niche books - they are never going to sell in huge numbers. (Well, would they if I spent hours marketing? I'll never know - that's the bit I'm truly rubbish at).
So, why do it? I'm lucky - and I know it. I have enough to live on and so am not dependent on my writing to pay the grocery bill. I can do it because it's fun, because I love it when people send emails saying they've enjoyed the book, or asking more about my travels - and yes, emails that prompted this post. And because I love the writing - I can make myself laugh. (I am already working out how to write a trip to the physio where I must ask her to get my knees strong enough to manage squat toilets ...)
That's how it was for me. How was it for you?
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
What I learned along my self-publishing journey.
I said I'd reflect on the process of self-publishing, so here are my thoughts now my book is Far Away in the big wide world.
First - I must stress these are personal opinions. There will be those who can weave a path through the technology without coffee and chocolate - I salute you. I can't. There will be those to whom marketing is second nature - I am still rubbish at it. But, for what it's worth, here goes:
Self-publishing is not easy, but it is possible. Every time the formatting had hiccups or I lost pages of text, I reminded myself that other people managed - and so could I. I might have to read the instructions many times, get the techy stuff translated - but I did it. Of course I felt like giving up at times, but that's why god made chocolate.
The biggest problem is formatting. Your lovely manuscript, that looks so pristine on the page, is quickly mangled the minute you try to change the format. And change the format you must (unless you had the presence of mind to think as far ahead as publishing when you began playing with your first draft). You don't have to like it - but you do have to accept it, and then settle down to untangle it. Then - just when you think you've got it right, it will tangle again. Tantrums are allowed, but only if they give you the energy to try again.
The ebook - in some ways this is more straightforward, as you can read the whole thing on your computer screen. But, though this make formatting blunders obvious, typos are much harder to spot. And the one thing you want to avoid, if at all possible, are typos and major grammar problems. (Which is why I would alway advocate a copy editor, even if you are only producing a small ebook - if you are going to invest your time and effort into this, it is worth the cost of making this the best book it can possibly be.)
Once the formatting is sorted (which can take days) it's relatively easy to load the whole thing onto Kindle - but wait, you need a cover.
And a cover for your print book. Trawl through all the advice-blogs; you don't need me to tell you how important the cover is. If you don't have a wonderful son-in-law to help, it is worth paying for this, too.
And then the print book. I won't go over the Createspace v Lulu debacle. Suffice it to say that the process for a POD book is similar, though the formatting is different (of course). And you get a proof of your lovely book to hold, and smell, and wave at people, and remind you how clever you are writing all this ... and then you have to read it, looking for mistakes. Yes - you really do. I know, you've read it so often your eyes bleed at the first sentence, but this is the last chance to find typos. (Someone suggested reading it backwards - which worked for me. I meant I didn't skip bits because I knew them too well.)
And then the marketing. Sorry, I have no advice on marketing. Even the thought of marketing can bring on a fit of the vapours. If anyone wants to chip in with marketing - or any other thoughts on your self-publishing experience - then please do. Maybe someone will have found it easy?
First - I must stress these are personal opinions. There will be those who can weave a path through the technology without coffee and chocolate - I salute you. I can't. There will be those to whom marketing is second nature - I am still rubbish at it. But, for what it's worth, here goes:
Self-publishing is not easy, but it is possible. Every time the formatting had hiccups or I lost pages of text, I reminded myself that other people managed - and so could I. I might have to read the instructions many times, get the techy stuff translated - but I did it. Of course I felt like giving up at times, but that's why god made chocolate.
The biggest problem is formatting. Your lovely manuscript, that looks so pristine on the page, is quickly mangled the minute you try to change the format. And change the format you must (unless you had the presence of mind to think as far ahead as publishing when you began playing with your first draft). You don't have to like it - but you do have to accept it, and then settle down to untangle it. Then - just when you think you've got it right, it will tangle again. Tantrums are allowed, but only if they give you the energy to try again.
The ebook - in some ways this is more straightforward, as you can read the whole thing on your computer screen. But, though this make formatting blunders obvious, typos are much harder to spot. And the one thing you want to avoid, if at all possible, are typos and major grammar problems. (Which is why I would alway advocate a copy editor, even if you are only producing a small ebook - if you are going to invest your time and effort into this, it is worth the cost of making this the best book it can possibly be.)
Once the formatting is sorted (which can take days) it's relatively easy to load the whole thing onto Kindle - but wait, you need a cover.
And a cover for your print book. Trawl through all the advice-blogs; you don't need me to tell you how important the cover is. If you don't have a wonderful son-in-law to help, it is worth paying for this, too.
And then the print book. I won't go over the Createspace v Lulu debacle. Suffice it to say that the process for a POD book is similar, though the formatting is different (of course). And you get a proof of your lovely book to hold, and smell, and wave at people, and remind you how clever you are writing all this ... and then you have to read it, looking for mistakes. Yes - you really do. I know, you've read it so often your eyes bleed at the first sentence, but this is the last chance to find typos. (Someone suggested reading it backwards - which worked for me. I meant I didn't skip bits because I knew them too well.)
And then the marketing. Sorry, I have no advice on marketing. Even the thought of marketing can bring on a fit of the vapours. If anyone wants to chip in with marketing - or any other thoughts on your self-publishing experience - then please do. Maybe someone will have found it easy?
Sunday, 30 October 2011
When is a book not a book?
Well, I did it. I fought the Kindle formatting and won.
You don't need to know about the blood, sweat and blasphemy that went into sorting it all. (Though I will, here, say a huge thank you to Anna, a daughter, who kept her head when I was in danger of losing mine.)
And, should you have a Kindle, you can even buy it by clicking here!!
I will get the linky-thing working at the side of the blog over the next few days. Hopefully that will also link to the smashwords version - yes, I'm even doing battle with their (different) formatting requirements, and believe that, too, is almost cracked. I'm just waiting for - I think it's some sort of review, and then they give me an ISBN and I have to do something mysterious with that, and then the smashwords version will also be available.
Smug - of course. Not only have I done the travelling, I've written the book, and mastered the technology. Worth a little smugness, just for a day or two? Even some celebratory wine? (Yes, please join me in that. Especially my little band of loyal followers who drop by every blogpost and have cheered me so much these past few weeks. I've raised a glass to you, too - you have definitely helped keep my spirits up in those bleak moments when I wondered if I was ever going to get the hang of this. Thank you all.)
Ah, but this is not the whole story, is it? I am still waiting for the proofs of the 'real book' to come from createspace, and there are bound to be mistakes in that (I rushed it), so there will be more amendments and waiting. It may well be the New Year before I have the final, polished, version to offer you.
And so - my ebook, that lives in the ether and cannot be held or smelled or leafed through - it is real? It has no substance, no body, fills no space. I'm in an odd limbo, knowing my efforts already exist in the contents pages of a Kindle or few, and yet with nothing to hold - nothing, if you like, to show for it.
So - does anyone else experience this odd existential questioning when the ebook is there for all to see, but there is still nothing for anyone to hold?
You don't need to know about the blood, sweat and blasphemy that went into sorting it all. (Though I will, here, say a huge thank you to Anna, a daughter, who kept her head when I was in danger of losing mine.)
And, should you have a Kindle, you can even buy it by clicking here!!
I will get the linky-thing working at the side of the blog over the next few days. Hopefully that will also link to the smashwords version - yes, I'm even doing battle with their (different) formatting requirements, and believe that, too, is almost cracked. I'm just waiting for - I think it's some sort of review, and then they give me an ISBN and I have to do something mysterious with that, and then the smashwords version will also be available.
Smug - of course. Not only have I done the travelling, I've written the book, and mastered the technology. Worth a little smugness, just for a day or two? Even some celebratory wine? (Yes, please join me in that. Especially my little band of loyal followers who drop by every blogpost and have cheered me so much these past few weeks. I've raised a glass to you, too - you have definitely helped keep my spirits up in those bleak moments when I wondered if I was ever going to get the hang of this. Thank you all.)
Ah, but this is not the whole story, is it? I am still waiting for the proofs of the 'real book' to come from createspace, and there are bound to be mistakes in that (I rushed it), so there will be more amendments and waiting. It may well be the New Year before I have the final, polished, version to offer you.
And so - my ebook, that lives in the ether and cannot be held or smelled or leafed through - it is real? It has no substance, no body, fills no space. I'm in an odd limbo, knowing my efforts already exist in the contents pages of a Kindle or few, and yet with nothing to hold - nothing, if you like, to show for it.
So - does anyone else experience this odd existential questioning when the ebook is there for all to see, but there is still nothing for anyone to hold?
Sunday, 11 September 2011
Working with a copy editor.
Well, I found a copy editor. That bit wasn't difficult. They advertise in the back of writing magazines, pop up all over the Internet.
I chose to work with a big editing company in London. They are reputed to be constructive and highly professional. I found no negative reviews. And so I sent a sample, we agreed an estimated bill, and off went the tome.
Thumb-twiddling time? Not exactly - there are other projects on the go. A short story nagging me to edit it; a life writing competition that tempts me. But there is a corner of me still with Over the Hill. Is there a sense of story? Have I managed to describe the exhilaration of swimming in the Barrier Reef, or flying over Mount Cook? Should I ring her, ask her if I've overdone the discomforts of Nepal?
And then I make myself stop and think about why I can't, quite, let it go for a couple of weeks. What do I really want from this copy edit?
I want two things. I want her to find the mistakes, the wobbly grammar, the cumbersome sentences, those moments when I've followed an idea and become tedious. I expect the manuscript to come back covered in red marks, an ugly reminder of just how much work this still needs. She is professional and I expect her to be thorough.
And then I want her to like it. It is, of course, not her job to like it. Indeed, as long as she finds all the mistakes it doesn't really matter whether she likes it or not. But that doesn't stop me wanting her to like it, to make a brief comment about how working with my book was, well, entertaining, or fun, or - well, anything but boring. I have trusted her with something I've treasured for years, my precious efforts, my book.
Dissonance is never easy. But by recognising my all-too-human hope that she will like my work as well as improve it, it is easier to live with these waiting days. She will do her job. I'll get the report - and yes, I shall probably scan it for hints that she might have enjoyed this project - and then settle down to work with her recommendations.
Has anyone else worked with a copy editor? How did you negotiate this split between needing constructive criticism of your work and the gut-wrenching fear that she might cast judgements on your baby?
I chose to work with a big editing company in London. They are reputed to be constructive and highly professional. I found no negative reviews. And so I sent a sample, we agreed an estimated bill, and off went the tome.
Thumb-twiddling time? Not exactly - there are other projects on the go. A short story nagging me to edit it; a life writing competition that tempts me. But there is a corner of me still with Over the Hill. Is there a sense of story? Have I managed to describe the exhilaration of swimming in the Barrier Reef, or flying over Mount Cook? Should I ring her, ask her if I've overdone the discomforts of Nepal?
And then I make myself stop and think about why I can't, quite, let it go for a couple of weeks. What do I really want from this copy edit?
I want two things. I want her to find the mistakes, the wobbly grammar, the cumbersome sentences, those moments when I've followed an idea and become tedious. I expect the manuscript to come back covered in red marks, an ugly reminder of just how much work this still needs. She is professional and I expect her to be thorough.
And then I want her to like it. It is, of course, not her job to like it. Indeed, as long as she finds all the mistakes it doesn't really matter whether she likes it or not. But that doesn't stop me wanting her to like it, to make a brief comment about how working with my book was, well, entertaining, or fun, or - well, anything but boring. I have trusted her with something I've treasured for years, my precious efforts, my book.
Dissonance is never easy. But by recognising my all-too-human hope that she will like my work as well as improve it, it is easier to live with these waiting days. She will do her job. I'll get the report - and yes, I shall probably scan it for hints that she might have enjoyed this project - and then settle down to work with her recommendations.
Has anyone else worked with a copy editor? How did you negotiate this split between needing constructive criticism of your work and the gut-wrenching fear that she might cast judgements on your baby?
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Self-publishing. Just because we can . . .
Doesn't mean we should. Self-publish, I mean.
(Yes, I know I leap from one topic to another. I'm back in the self-publishing camp today.) One way or another Over the Hill and Far Away will be a book. Which has led me to play around on a self-publishing site or ten, and drown in blogs, and to read a couple of how-to books which explain the awkward bits. Maybe it's not so daunting?
This looks almost easy, I thought. Print on Demand - what could be more straightfoward? Typeset, sort a cover - and presto, a book! And putting books onto Kindle, onto Smashwords - yes, it looks fiddly in places, but it costs so little! Anyone can do it! Maybe I should put some of my short stories there -
STOP RIGHT THERE! Yes, it might be not-so-hard. But that doesn't mean my short stories are good enough. Oh, there are one or two that aren't bad; even a couple that might be reasonable if I could only - well - make them more interesting. Make the plot a bit more, sort of plottish. Find characters that I don't want to smack at the end of 2000 words. There is a reason they are sitting in the 'not really good enough' folder on the computer.
In her book Write to be Published Nicola Morgan (find her fab blog here) describes much self-published material as 'eel vomit.' No, it isn't very nice, is it? But, being honest with myself for just a minute, most of those short stories are eel vomit. They have taught me things about plot, and characterisation, and making settings work (or not). So they have a value for me. But when it comes to literary merit, well, they are rubbish.
In contrast - I am proud of Over the Hill. It is, now, almost the very best book I can make it. (Almost - yes, there is still work to do.) But I must resist the temptation to play with making other books, just because I can. Better to have one book to be proud of than piles of eel vomit.
And you - tell me I'm not the only one with eel vomit hidden in a bottom drawer?
(Yes, I know I leap from one topic to another. I'm back in the self-publishing camp today.) One way or another Over the Hill and Far Away will be a book. Which has led me to play around on a self-publishing site or ten, and drown in blogs, and to read a couple of how-to books which explain the awkward bits. Maybe it's not so daunting?
This looks almost easy, I thought. Print on Demand - what could be more straightfoward? Typeset, sort a cover - and presto, a book! And putting books onto Kindle, onto Smashwords - yes, it looks fiddly in places, but it costs so little! Anyone can do it! Maybe I should put some of my short stories there -
STOP RIGHT THERE! Yes, it might be not-so-hard. But that doesn't mean my short stories are good enough. Oh, there are one or two that aren't bad; even a couple that might be reasonable if I could only - well - make them more interesting. Make the plot a bit more, sort of plottish. Find characters that I don't want to smack at the end of 2000 words. There is a reason they are sitting in the 'not really good enough' folder on the computer.
In her book Write to be Published Nicola Morgan (find her fab blog here) describes much self-published material as 'eel vomit.' No, it isn't very nice, is it? But, being honest with myself for just a minute, most of those short stories are eel vomit. They have taught me things about plot, and characterisation, and making settings work (or not). So they have a value for me. But when it comes to literary merit, well, they are rubbish.
In contrast - I am proud of Over the Hill. It is, now, almost the very best book I can make it. (Almost - yes, there is still work to do.) But I must resist the temptation to play with making other books, just because I can. Better to have one book to be proud of than piles of eel vomit.
And you - tell me I'm not the only one with eel vomit hidden in a bottom drawer?
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