The View From Here

Some comments on self-publishing and the way people go about it.

One of the drums I thump regularly has to do with discovery and the paths readers take to find new fiction to read.

Lots of social marketing people will try to convince you that you must blog regularly, that quality content will draw readers to your website, and that you must use good Search Engine Optimization (SEO) techniques to funnel readers to your books.

I'm not one of them. 

My stance is that readers aren't looking for fiction on Google. No sufficiently granular search string exists that will turn up your fiction on a generalized search of the web and most readers know it. Just like they don't look for mangoes at the hardware store.

They go to the bookstore to shop for books. These days, maybe GoodReads or StoryGraph for clues, if their favorite authors haven't released new work lately. They might ask on social media to see if any of their virtual friends have suggestions.

Later, once they've read your work, then they might look you up on Google. They might want to see what else you're doing, or who you are when you're at home. They might want to see if you've got any DVD extras on your site, or just find out who you're reading. There are lots of reasons why a reader might want to look you up on the web. 

They're all predicated on discovering you somewhere else first. The two largest factors for readers deciding to read a book involve knowing the author and liking their work, or a recommendation from a trusted friend. (See also: Polly Wanna Cracker)

Eric Schmidt seems to agree with me noting that – in search – Google's biggest competitor is Amazon.[1]

While it's true you can find mangoes on Amazon and a lot of the searches on the 'Zon are not for books, the lesson for fiction authors is clear.

Discovery does not happen with Google. SEO is how to fool people looking for one thing to find you instead. Trying to establish SEO to lure new readers to your work via your website is like looking for mangoes at the hardware store.


See also: A Few Notes on Discoverability


1. https://www.businessinsider.com/eric-schmidt-says-amazon-is-googles-biggest-search-competitor-2014-10

The problem for most indies – particularly new ones – isn't producing a book. Once you've gotten a full draft written, the rest is mechanics. Cover art is cheap. Editing is relatively cheap. Conversion from wordprocessor to ebook and even paper is cheap.

Everything is cheap mechanics except for one aspect. 

Sales and Promotion. What the kids are calling “marketing” today.

It's the one thing every indie needs to tribe up to handle because yelling in the woods alone is – well – lonely. It's also counter productive. It scares away readers, attracts predators, and exhausts the author. 

It doesn't have to be like that. 

We've known the market is a conversation since the ClueTrain[1] left the station in 1999. We've known about the importance of being remarkable since the Purple Cow[2] mooed in 2003.

But too many authors still operate as if ad buys and exposure gets sales. As if a 5-star Amazon review opens the flood gates to wonga while a 1-star one kills your career. As if there are only so many readers in the world and they're all taken.

You don't need a co-op to produce a book and you don't need a company to network. People have been networking since the tribal days and it's only gotten easier now that we don't need drummers to bash out our messages on the jungle drums. 

I've said it before and I'll probably have to say it again:

Face to the audience. Peers at your back.

“I don't have any audience.” – everybody starts at zero. 

“I don't have a network.” – build one.

“I don't have time to build a network.” – you're reading this post aren't you?

You've already had more than enough time to work on a network. It takes a few minutes a week to lay the groundwork. You can spend more, if you're having fun.  If you're not having fun, you're doing it wrong. 

“But don't I need friends and views and likes and followers?” – Not really.

A few connections to start is usually enough. You don't need to be everywhere and probably shouldn't be. 

What you need is some work that people can buy – or at least get for free. You can't promote the book you're going to write. More is better. A blog where you publish your short stories is fine, but that's not where the juice is. Newsletter “reader magnets” only work for readers who already know you. Get your work listed in a marketplace. Even Wattpad, if you must, but there are better alternatives. Give people a reason to look at you before you stand up and start yelling “Hey! Look at me!”

What you need is to stop thinking like you're on Madmen and start thinking like the artist you are. One with a global marketplace and a global reach. One where the distribution channels funnel you directly to eager customers in their pajamas around the world with just a few key clicks. 

What you need are a few people who are in the trenches with you. If you're reading this, you're already part of a network. Mastodon has a great community of supportive writers – along with a few people who didn't get the memo about trying to sell pork chops to a butcher.

If you want to be part of the community of letters, stand up and claim your node.


See also: – Face To Your AudienceWhat Is Marketing?


Up Next: Publishing: A Glossary ...


1. ClueTrain Manifesto: http://www.cluetrain.com/book/95-theses.html

2. Purple Cow by Seth Godin   http://www.amazon.com/Purple-Cow-New-Transform-Remarkable-ebook/dp/B00316UMS0


The publishing landscape is littered with misinformation. Sometimes it helps to see what the terms we use actually mean. Some of these will be familiar, but some might make you see the process from a different perspective.

Literally “the right to copy” a work. The person or entity that “holds the copyright” is recognized as the legitimate agent to distribute and collect revenues of a work. In the U.S. the first instantiation of a work sets the copyright to its creator. For writers, that means a completed first draft is covered by copyright as is every subsequent draft.

A copyright may be sold – some markets require the transfer of copyright from the creator to the producer – or licensed. A license permits a producer to create and distribute copies of the work for some limited amount of time without requiring the creator to give up their intellectual property forever.

Copyright covers the work for any form of production including

  1. Primary right – the right to produce the product
  2. Derivative rights – the right to produce work created from or extending the primary like sequels and spin offs
  3. Subsidiary rights – the right to produce work in different forms and media like audio or merchandise

Copyright registration creates a third-party validation of copyright for a particular work and creator. In the U.S. registration offers additional legal remedies for cases of infringement beyond those granted on creation. The creator must have the wherewithal to pursue those remedies in court for them to be of value. In the U.S. registration does not provide extra protection, only additional paths for remedy.

Key Point: As soon as you make it, you own it.

Publisher:

The person or entity that presents your Intellectual Property (“the work”) to the public. For writers, this usually means the person/entity that uploads your files and collects the revenues – if any – from the sales.

Key Point: The publisher makes the work available to a public.

Traditional publishing:

A process by which creators agree to license their work to a company or individual for production and distribution. The company collects the revenues and dispenses the creators' share to them.

The process for publishing traditionally usually goes through a query period followed – with luck – a negotiation process to establish the terms of the relationship, leading to a contract. It doesn't matter if you're dealing with a short story for a magazine, or a novel for individual publication. You could be working through an agent to get to the publisher, but the same query process occurs. Twice if you use an agent because you need to convince the agent to represent you, then the agent has to convince a publisher to consider the work.

The company takes on the duties of production and publication – creating a product that is suitable to the purpose and making it available to the public. They perform these duties according to the strict terms of the contract. The creator bears the onus of knowing and understanding those terms before signing.

Companies involved in traditional publishing include but are not limited by:

  1. The Bigs – The largest global publishing conglomerates. They operate multiple companies each of which may have multiple imprints serving discrete market niches. Typically agents control access to these publishers.
  2. Independent (Small) Press – Publishers that remain unaffiliated with the Bigs including various short story markets like zines. Some small presses represent significant market share in their niches. Writers who use these publishers are sometimes referred to as “independent writers” (See also: Self-Publishing).
  3. Vanity Press – Publishers who charge the creator for production and publication expenses. They depend on creator fees rather than sales revenue for their income.
  4. Scams – A subset of vanity presses present themselves as “self-publishing companies” or “hybrid presses.” They usually disguise their fees as “risk sharing” or “service fees.” Like other vanity presses, they make most of their revenue from the fees authors pay. I classify them as scams because they hide their role as vanity presses behind the language.

Key Point: You cannot choose traditional publishing. You can only choose to pursue it. A publisher has to choose you. (I don't remember who I heard this from. If was you, thanks!)

Note: Vanity Presses and Scams have very low barriers to entry in terms of the works they'll accept, but you must be willing and able to pay them for the privilege.

Query:

In order to be considered for traditional publication, the creator must submit an application to an appropriate publisher. In the trade, that's a “query.” The query must conform to the specific guidelines posted by the publisher. Failure to follow said guidelines is grounds for rejection. The process is made more complicated by use of the terms like “Standard Manuscript Format” for which no universal standards exist.

The typical query cycle consists of:

  1. Determining an appropriate market for the work
  2. Finding a target publisher (or agent) that serves that market
  3. Preparing the query documentation that conforms to that publishers requirements
  4. Waiting for the response.
  5. If the publisher (or agent) rejects the query, the cycle begins again at step 1 or the creator gives up trying to be selected for traditional publication for that particular work.
  6. If the query gets accepted, the query cycle ends.

Key Point: The only limits to iterating steps 1 through 5 involve the number of appropriate markets for the work and the creator's willingness to continue the cycle. This seemingly unending cycle is sometimes referred to as the “query-go-round” which can only end when you stop the ride or catch the metaphorical brass ring.

Rejection:

The query process necessary in Traditional Publishing frequently results in the publisher (or agent) declining to publish (or represent) the queried work. The publisher (or agent) seldom states the reason(s) for declining.

Typical reasons:

  1. The submission violated the company's submission guidelines. Ex: Failing to format the manuscript with proper paragraph indents, not including a 500 word synopsis, or submitting more pages than required.
  2. The submission does not meet the company's content area. Ex: Submitting a romance novel to a horror publisher, a novella to a short story magazine market, or adult litfic to a kitlit publisher.
  3. The submission is too similar to a work recently signed by the publisher. Ex: They just licensed Lil Piece Of Your Heart cozy murder mystery so rejected your Fifty Ways To Leave Your Liver cozy murder mystery.
  4. The submission has no clear genre category. Without a genre label, the publisher doesn't know where to put your book in their catalog. Ex: Your gritty, dystopian retelling of Peter Rabbit, set-in-space whodunnit as written by Jane Austin.
  5. The slush reader had a bad morning and hasn't time to put up with your nonsense.
  6. The writing. Ex: Kludgy language usage, lack of punctuation, surplus punctuation, pacing, profanity or lack of same, story that doesn't conform to accepted structure, characters that have no/too much/too little personality, etc.

Key Point: The rejection may have little to nothing to do with the story itself. A successful query consists of the right work to the right company at the right time in the right format. While the creator can control most of those aspects, fate spins the wheel on every submission.

Negotiation:

After the publisher agrees to accept a query, the creator and producer may enter into a period of negotiation to establish the terms of their agreement. In some cases the negotiation starts and ends with “take it of leave it” when it comes to what the two parties will accept. Many markets – like short stories and poetry – use simple enough contract language (and small enough compensation) that legal assistance may not be necessary or even advised. For contracts involving longer works and substantial amounts of money, it behooves the creator to involve legal counsel specializing in intellectual property when dealing with extended contract terms.

Following the contract negotiation, an additional “negotiation” period may occur when the publisher requires the creator to make changes to the work prior to publication. Note that the creator's right to refuse these changes may be curtailed – even negated – by the terms of the established contract.

Key Point: Getting accepted is just the first step toward a publishing contract. The next steps carry greater risks.

Royalty:

The amount a publisher owes the creator for the sale of a unit of work. For short works, this might be a flat sum on acceptance as in an article or story for a magazine. For longer works, this might be expressed as a percentage of the cover price or gross profit.

Key Point: Royalty is your share of the revenue earned when the work sells.

Advance Payments:

Some traditional publishers offer an “advance” or “advance payment” as part of their contract. The terms usually specify how that payment gets made – often a third on signing, a third on their acceptance of a final manuscript, a third on publication. Depending on the publisher's production cycle, those three payments may be separated by weeks, if not months.

Before any royalties accrue to the writer, the book must “earn out” – that is, accumulate in royalties an amount equal to or greater than the advance. In effect, repaying the advance payment to the publisher with sales before the publisher will make additional payments to the writer.

Key Point: A large advance might signify the publisher is willing to support a title with more efforts in sales and promotion or higher production values. It also means the book must earn that much more in accrued royalties before the writer gets paid again.

Self-Publishing:

The creator takes the roles of the publisher, becoming producer and distributor. The creator underwrites the production of the work and collects all the revenues. In the simplest cases, the writer and publisher are the same entity so gross profit becomes revenue without consideration of a royalty split.

Self-published authors sometimes use the term “indie” or “independent author” to describe themselves because they publish through the smallest of independent presses – one that produces and distributes only their own work.

Key Point: You can choose to be a self-published author.

Production

The process of preparing a work for publication. This might be done in-house by the publisher or contracted out to specialists like audiobook producers.

For writers this generally means 1. Editing – Some level of review for story structure, continuity, format, and correct spelling and punctuation prior to layout. 2. Cover selection – Acquiring the appropriate artwork for the publication. The nature of the cover varies by form (ex. Short stories or poetry may only have an evocative graphic or none at all). 3. Layout – Designing how the final product will look, putting the manuscript into the appropriate format to support that look, and combining it with the cover art. This may include acquiring and assigning ISBNs where applicable, creation of bar codes, or other necessary features required by the market.

Key Point: Production consists of translating a manuscript into forms suitable for a reader's consumption.

Distribution

The process of putting the work into the pubic sphere. For writers this means sending the book to bookstores, making it available to readers. The publisher handles this process using the appropriate technologies for the market.

For paper-based products, publishers sometimes use catalogs and/or sales representatives to inform bookstore buyers of a title's availability. Online stores generally use print-on-demand technology to produce each book as it's ordered and shipping it directly to the reader, by-passing warehousing and intermediate shipping.

For digital products, publishers need only make the appropriately formatted file available to the bookstore's system. Readers purchase and download the files.

Key Point: Distribution is a necessary but insufficient condition for sales. The book may be in the store, but that's no guarantee that a reader will buy it.

TLDR

  1. A publisher presents a work to the public.
  2. A traditional publisher chooses what works to present, sometimes with the intervention of an agent. They are responsible for making the work available to bookstores that – in turn – make the books available to readers.
  3. A self-publisher generally makes their book available to readers directly through digital storefronts, through alternate modes like crowd funding, and physical sales via dealer rooms and bookstores.

Once the publisher distributes the work, the process becomes one governed by sales and promotion – a completely separate set of tasks but which get bundled into the publishing umbrella because the publisher needs to recoup publication costs before paying the writer.

Re-phrased: Publication is easy. Getting paid is a different process.


Up Next: Art of the Schmooze

What else is there to see in The View From Here? Check the Table of Contents for other essays about writing, marketing, and publishing.

If there’s anything scarier than public speaking, it’s private speaking. Not the quiet conversations you have with friends but the prospect of being thrown into a room of strangers and having to get out with any shred of dignity intact. Some people have no trouble making new friends, but introverted and anti-social writers seem to have a harder time than average. The normal strategies of hiding behind a potted plant all evening, or orbiting the room clutching a beverage like a life-ring while refusing to make eye contact may leave you feeling like you missed out on opportunities.

How do people do that schmooze thing without feeling icky? 

It takes a bit of mental jujitsu.

First, you have to understand that everybody in the room is there for the same reason. You’re there because you’re passionate enough about the subject matter to have found the time and resources to attend. Just by being there, you’ve got common ground with every other attendee. Just being there automatically makes you one of the cool kids.

Second, you need to check your excuses at the door. Even introverts can get satisfaction from sharing ideas they’re passionate about. Leave the “I’ve got nothing to talk about” excuse and the “Who’d want to talk to me?” excuse at the door.

Third, the hardest room is your first one. Not everybody in the room is a first timer, but everybody in that room was a first timer once. Most of them remember it. Newcomers are always welcome. When it’s your turn to meet the newcomers, welcome them. If nothing else, it gives you someone to talk to.

A few simple ideas can help even the shyest individual over the threshold.

Have a goal or two.

I believe too many people struggle because they have goals that place too much emphasis on measurable return on investment. They want to pitch their stories to three agents or get an acquisitions editor to request a manuscript. While those are certainly valid goals, for somebody trying to learn the art of the schmooze these goals put Olympic-sized pressure on Wading Pool skills.

My goals for every convention I attend—writer oriented, fan oriented, whatever—are always the same. Meet three interesting people and take home one actionable idea. I don’t limit myself to what I think “interesting” means or what kind of action I want to take. Sometimes I meet interesting people in the lobby or sitting beside me in the audience at a panel. Sometimes the ideas are time management or dealing with stress. Occasionally I learn about new tools, gain insight into new techniques, or find writers I want to learn more about. I can’t achieve any of those goals unless I get out there and meet people.

Listen more than you talk.

Probably the most common advice given, but too often not followed.

Sometimes conversations get forced on you at organized dinners. Nothing's worse than having to take a seat with a table full of strangers. Simple courtesy can ease the conversation into starting on its own. Take a seat, smile at the person on your left/right, offer your hand, and say, “Hi, I’m <Your Name>.” Or whatever your name is. Typically, that triggers a response around the table. This also works at meet-and-greet events, BarCons, session audiences, and other situations where you’re in a room full of strangers all wearing the same badges. If the conversation lags, you can always ask “Who came the farthest to get here?” Chances are nobody will know so you’ll have to compare notes. After that the conversations generally sort themselves out.

The thing about listening is that you always have something to do. If you’re focused on listening, you’re not thinking about what to do with your hands or whether your hair is sticking out at an odd angle. You’re thinking about what the other person is saying and maybe asking questions about it. Listening has the added advantage of making you seem smart, even when you don’t think you are. Do it regularly, and the odds are good that you’ll become smarter over time.

Wallflowers Unite

There will always be somebody who’s off to the side, out of the path, and standing alone. The art of the schmooze is making sure you’re not that person. Find the wallflower or the person standing or sitting alone and introduce yourself. You’ll each find you have a lot in common and both of you will be able to practice the art.

Breaking In

What about when you’re trying to join a conversation that’s already going on? A lot of people feel like they might be intruding if the conversation is already in full swing. Sometimes you might be, but more typically, there’s always room for one more smiling face. Stepping into the gap—often literally—with a smile and a nod usually works. If the conversation doesn’t stop, chances are you’re just as welcome as anybody else. This is a great opportunity for you to practice listening. Asking a pertinent question at the next pause in the festivities works very well to cement your place in the conversation.

Semper Paratus

Awkward silence is awkward, but a little preparation can push awkwardness to the backseat. Questions like “So, what are you reading these days?” or “How are you dealing with social media?” often yield interesting responses. Personally, I avoid questions like “What do you do?” or “What are do you write?” The first sets up a “you are what you do” vibe and the second is most likely to get a pat elevator pitch.

A bit of noodling time with your favorite professional online sources can add currency to your conversation as well.

Finally, when that awkward feeling just won’t leave, have an exit line of your own ready. A simple “Nice to meet you. I need to circulate a little. Enjoy the convention” lets you wander off without feeling like you’ve stepped on anybody’s puppy. You can change it up with “I need another drink” or “I need to find my partner.” Even “I need to find the little writer’s room” can give you the exit you need without falling into TMI.

Have fun

That probably sounds a bit like “Hey, they’ll only hang you once. Enjoy the gallows.” This is one place where you actually can “fake it til you make it.” Smile at people. Meet their eyes and nod. Extend a hand and introduce yourself. Before you know it, the person you met in the first session on the first day will show up and you can compare notes. Or the person you had breakfast with will invite you to eat dinner with them. Take a few selfies with other attendees. Ask for cards from interesting people. By the time you have to leave, you’ll find you’ve actually had more fun than you thought.

After all, these people all cared enough to arrange their lives to be in that space with you, even when they didn’t know you’d be there. The least you can do is make it worth their while.


Up Next: Abandonment Issues

What else is there to see in The View From Here? Check the Table of Contents for other essays about writing, marketing, and publishing.

While there may be a lot of arguments for leaving Amazon's cruel embrace, one reason not to leave seems to be getting ignored. Readers.

I've heard all the arguments for writers to “go wide,” to step away from Amazon's exclusivity requirements and leave the Kindle Unlimited catalog. A different audience, diversification of revenue streams, protection against future negative actions, upside potential, taking a moral stance against late-stage capitalism.

They're all good reasons and very easy reasons to support if your writing has not taken root in the Amazon ecosystem.

But what if it has?

From my perspective, the decision to leave Amazon carries two significant burdens.

The lesser one, financial.

Over 60% of my revenue comes from KU. As a full-time, self-published author with a significant catalog, that's a lot of money. I could afford to drop that without sacrificing my family's standard of living in the short term. Good financial planning over the years would let us carry on for a few years, barring an overwhelming tragedy.

The greater burden is one I wouldn't have to carry, which makes it all the more onerous for me to consider. That burden would fall to thousands of readers who rely on KU to provide them with the books I produce.

While that's self-aggrandizing to a certain extent, consider how many times have authors “screwed over their fans” by signing restrictive deals with publishers, by taking actions that cut their existing audience out of the picture by one action or another.

I understand that being exclusive to Amazon cuts out a lot of potential readers. Readers I do not have at the moment and who may or may not even like my work and be willing to support it.

For me, the idea that I might be serving some greater moral good by casting off Bezobub's Golden Shackles falls flat when I think of the thousands of readers who like and use KU, who rely on it to provide them with reading material they enjoy at a price they can support.

So, no, I won't be leaving KU unless/until it becomes untenable. There are two sides to audience loyalty, and I'm going to continue to hold up my side of the bargain.

As always, your mileage may vary.


What else is here? Check the Table of Contents for other essays about writing, marketing, and publishing.