It's Always Been About the Readers

All right. I don't know where my "hackles" are, but they're raised.

I'm pissed. Vexed. Hot. Fuming.

A certain literary agent has suggested those "self-publishing" are doing it for selfish reasons and don't care about readers at all. You can read the whole ugly post here.

Sh*t.

You couldn't be more wrong, Ms. High and Mighty, AKA protector of the weak, innocent reader. My God, what would readers do without big, tough literary agents guarding their reading time (and dollars)?

Here's the best part:

"My conclusion: This trend toward self-publishing serves primarily the writer.

(Not readers and not the publishing industry as a whole.)"

Oh--that's right, because it's my f*cking job to serve the publishing industry. I forgot. *smacks head* I'm supposed to work for free for years to try and squeak through the needle's eye until the great gate-keeping elite think they can properly profit from my free labor.

Yes, do you see that little word: profit. Because publishers are in this business to make money. Not "protect" readers.

I'm sick of the hypocrisy of a system which would publish Snooki's trash and then pretend to be a protector of readers. Sick of it. Stop lying to me. Stop lying to the public. Stop lying to readers.

You know who cares more about readers than you, giant publishing machine? Writers do--all of them, whether "traditionally" published or indie or whatever. I like how we've decided the indentured servant model of publishing is "traditional". Back in Ben Franklin's day, anyone who owned a printing press was published. Don't play word games until you know a little history.

But wait--I'm not the one who has to prove I care about readers. I'm not the one readers are questioning, am I?

Every story I write is a love-letter to storytelling.

Go climb back in your stupid castle and shut the gate. We heathens will sit around our campfires and tell stories well into the night--as it should be.

Write hard!

How to Hold a Book Signing (If You've Never Done it Before)

Today's essential question: Should you schedule a book signing?

Here's how my first ever went down (with hints and spoilers):

After playing phone tag with a few bookstores, I finally nailed down one manager. Two days later, I consigned four copies each of Loathsome, Dark and Deep and The House Eaters. We scheduled a signing one month out (this was on February 12th).

So, flash forward one month. I was nervous. What if I didn't sell a single book? I used to work at a bookstore (long before I was a writer), and we used to make fun of the visiting authors who didn't sell any books. I was an asshat back then...

Hint #1: Show up early. I arrived a little early (to help set up as all good authors suggest you do), and surprise, surprise, a little table with my books and signage was already displayed in the entryway. So far so good.

Hint #2. Don't sit down. They gave me a chair. I only sat in the chair to sign books. You must be up and moving around. Engage with customers. Smile. Just say "hi".

Hint #3: Bring something to give away. I had bookmarks and candy. Candy is good. Everybody likes candy. I shared with the employees. They are your friends. Trust me.

I sold my first book within three minutes. Hey, I thought, this might be okay. 10 minutes later, I sold two more books. Hey, I thought, I might run out of books. I'd sold two more within another 10 minutes. Wow. The score after a half-hour: 5 books down, 3 to go.

And then I stood around for another 90 minutes, talking to a lot of folks about my books, but with no takers. *sigh*

Hint #4: Keep talking to people, even when they just want to talk about themselves. Several individuals told me how they were writers, too, and would be published...but. There was always a but. But I can't edit. But nobody "gets" me. Keep talking. Be real.

My second and third sales came to two women who didn't look like they were my target audience. Why did they buy the books?

Hint #5: Love your books. If you hate to sell, stop writing for an audience. Even if I'm giving you a story for free, it is still a sale. The reader pays with his/her time. You have to love your work or no one else will. Enthusiasm is addictive. Be excited about your stuff. I knew it was time to go home when my energy level waned.

Final score: 5 books sold; 3 books back on the shelf; $34.54 in my pocket. Understand that those books were consigned and about a $1 each actually went into my pocket (I'd got the books at a discount through my publishers). Of course I'm donating the $34.54 to Tsunami/earthquake relief efforts, and I'll give you a gift if you donate, too.

What I learned:

1. Book signings are not about making money. Five bucks didn't even cover gas.

2. Book signings are about talking to people about your book. They are about meeting folks you might not meet any other way. Five copies of my books walked through the door. Four new readers took my books home. Maybe they'll pass them on or tell someone else.

Will I hold another? Maybe. It was pretty exhausting.

The Price Wars

Diving into what Mr. Hyde calls "sweet tasty fruits" of ebookage, I've found numerous opinions on the price of ebooks. Some authors argue that lowering prices devalues a writer's work. Okay, point taken. While I understand the philosophy behind charging more than 99 cents for a book, I also know the market. Cheap sells, especially for unknowns.

I'm an unknown author. Glad to meet you.

When I release We are the Monsters and Borrowed Saints, I want to charge a price that is a) fair to me and b) fair to the market. My goal (remember) is to tell stories. I don't want to put up a barrier between me and a potential reader.

So, do you go with the market or go with your heart? What is a fair price? What would you pay?

(and hey, there's a survey thingy in the upper right-hand corner)

Ain't Taking Shorts No More (Writing for Free)

NPR's Morning Edition ran a piece this morning titled "Is Writing Online Without Pay Worth It?"

Listen to it. (Or at least read the summary) Then read David Carr's original article at the NY Times, "At Media Companies, a Nation of Serfs".

Yes, they're talking, in general, about non-fiction (sort of...I guess). Hell, just commenting on an article online is offering content for free. Some irony there, considering some of the comments on Carr's article. According to Carr, your Twitter feed and Facebook profile are forms of writing for free. Yikes... Facebook has learned how to cash in. Twitter isn't there. Yet.

Look--this isn't new. I occasionally listen to sports talk radio. I know, it might seem a little "out of character" for me, but it is entertaining. And you know what? The callers provide much of the content (and they are weirdos). No, it isn't a new phenomenon at all.

But is it scary? Yes, especially to anyone who wishes to write for money. Is there a corollary to fiction? Hell yes. I read a good deal of fiction online for free. Yes, many of the markets are well-paying (Apex*, Clarkesworld, Fantasy, etc.), but I'm not buying copies of Fantasy and Science Fiction or Asimov's when I'm spending my limited reading time with Redstone SF or Lightspeed online for free. I currently have subscriptions to Shimmer, Space & Time, and Necrotic Tissue. I try to spend a little money on small press every month (books, etc.), but the writing, I think, is on the virtual wall.

Will I stop blogging? No. Will I stop commenting on others' blogs, tweeting, or any of the other content-creating exercises? No. Am I going to throw an old-school Harlan Ellison rant about paying me? No.


Not yet.

And writing fiction? I'll quit when I'm dead. (but hopefully not from starvation)

*okay, so I did sign on for the Apex subscription, but I could read it for free.

Who's on the Dream Team?

The EIC over at Aqueous Books (publisher of my forthcoming short story collection, The Saints are Dead) asked for a list of authors I'd like her to query for blurbs.

Whoa.

How about Neil Gaiman, Ray Bradbury, and if it isn't too much trouble, raise Mary Shelley from the dead and land her thumbs up, too.

Kidding, of course.

In all seriousness, who whould I add to the list?

Me = Social Networking Fail...or Not?

I topped 20K in Borrowed Saints this weekend--big news in my world because I'm aiming for 50-60K for the final book. With all luck, I'll crest halfway this week. My minimum word count/day has been over 1K . I saw 2K on a few occasions (3K on that glorious Tuesday). I know Brendan...word count race and all that.

But I mention the word counts simply because it's what I can do when I make writing the first focus. When I sit down in front of the monitor, I open the Borrowed Saints file and start working. I don't sit down at the computer and check my email, blogs, forums, Twitter...

Of course, I feel like I've missed something. An opportunity. A social occasion. Something. I feel like I should work harder drumming up readers, followers, whatever. I feel like I'm failing, not because of my writing, but because I'm not spending enough time building my "platform". And I don't like that feeling. I hate it. This race feels like it goes to the best salesperson. Exposing people to your product without annoying them and pushing too hard is a tricky proposal, especially in writing because you are the brand. The product. Love it or hate it, it's true. (There's a reason I label these posts "shameful self-promotion"...I'm just not comfortable...)

I know what I should do as an author (writing is the prime directive), but how do I chase away the demon of doubt? How do you make your "product" accessible without alienating an audience?

Charlatans and Thieves

Here's the truth about truth: you'll never get the "real" story about anything that's ever happened.

Why?

Human beings have a propensity for skewing reality toward their own point of view.

Take my lies last Friday. Several people identified #6, When I was twelve, my mother took me on a cross-country camping trip in search of dinosaurs, sulfurous hot springs, and giant stone men, as the truth. Yes, we took a trip (in a camper) to see Dinosaur National Monument in Utah, Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming, and Mt. Rushmore National Memorial in South Dakota. True.

But, all of the others held an element of truth:

1. The least true of them all, although I do have a score of unusual birthmarks and one sort of looks like Texas.

2. I did have a cat named MacArthur (General MacArthur was his full name). The others...not so much.

3. I didn't write the story, but I had plenty of nightmares and trouble sleeping after that funeral.

4. I dated a pre-med student once. (at least she said she was pre-med...) We did look at cadavers. She wouldn't let me snip an ear, though.

5. Oh, you know I will. I just can't keep doing it every week. (too many irons in the fire)

7. Totally true except for the part about stabbing the other kid. What did I offer for the exchange that year? Two Star Wars action figures from Return of the Jedi. What did I get? Lifesafers. Suckage.

So I lie. And I lie well enough to hide the truth some of the time. Do you feel robbed? Am I a thief of the first order?

Hope not.

But Robert Swartwood has a nice post today about a different kind of thief, and he raises questions that bear serious discussion. As to the New York Times article about e-book prices, just remember that stakeholders (editors and their ilk), have a stake or investment (hence the name "stakeholder") in keeping themselves relevant. And they are relevant. For now.

Me? I'm done giving away my work for nothing. Meaning, I will still give away my work to venues which increase my audience (I told you I was a liar), charities, and direct-to-my readers. Me to you. Free doesn't need a middle-man unless that middle-man brings something to the table (e.g., bigger audience).

I've got something free to offer in the next couple of weeks. Me to you. We only have to invite a middle man if you want.

Edited to add: You can preview a bit of "Empty Vessels" a short forthcoming in Morpheus Tales #8, here.

This is Why You Sign a Contract

I've "lost" a few publications in the past, mostly to venues that disappeared before my story could see the light (Grim Graffiti, Our Shadows Speak II, Arkham Tales*). Grim Graffiti vanished without a trace, the editor of OSS II dropped a note on his blog, and Arkham Tales is back.

Last summer, I blogged about an acceptance, and the magazine's TOC is now listed at their website. Behold: my name is not on the list.

So am I angry? Yeah, a little. With myself, too.

This is why you sign a contract, folks. I guess I assumed the line "This one is a yes from us. Payment would be £10. How does that sound?" meant they would print my story. I guess I was wrong. (At least no one's proven I'm not...I queried the mag two weeks ago and they have yet to respond).

So I'm bummed. But smarter. I don't expect every little FTL mag to have contracts. I don't feel so bad about losing a FTL publication.

But this particular magazine (I don't want to be a sour-puss and toss their name around, get it?) is cool. I was stoked. Now I'm just sour.

Where'd I leave that sugar...

*And the resurrected Arkham Tales accepted a story yesterday, more later. So, whoot!

Edit This

Does anyone edit anymore? By anyone I mean editors, and by editors, I mean those ladies and gents at the big houses.

I'm reading lost boy, lost girl by Peter Straub, and bammo, right in the middle of the book, he slips out of the 3rd person omniscient narration for a paragraph of 1st person confessional. I read and reread the section: did I miss a piece of dialogue? Was I confused? No?

It seems this slip of perspective was purely accidental. Ouch. I haven't mentioned the unnecessary insertions of exposition. Talk about show vs. tell.

It's a good book, all in all. I won't run out to snatch A Dark Matter off the new releases table, though. I'm not sure Straub is my style. Too dense and forced at times...maybe that's an editing issue, too.

I've heard rumblings that editors (at the big houses) don't edit anymore. Usually, a writer and agent make this happen (once a writer has an agent); unagented writers edit themselves until landing said agent, and then...

So is this gossip or truth, sour grapes or reality?

Commission vs. Submission

No school today (yippee!). More below.

I'm a geek for word origins (etymology). In follow up to yesterday's post, I started thinking about the words commission and submission. As a writer, I've had exactly one commission. It was nice, my highest per word rate to date (a whopping 2 cents a word). Granted, as a piece of flash, it was only 1000 words (so I earned 20 bucks). Whoot.

Everything else has been via submission. Different world...and more competition.

Basically, the difference lies in the those two words: commission and submission. A commission is an assignment (from words meaning commit and mission); an editor/publisher comes to the writer and requests something. The writer writes to specifications. Hit it big enough, the door will open for a writer to receive more commissions. The pay rate is generally higher (from what I've learned) because the editor is trying to sell the idea to the writer. Supply (the work from that particular writer) is limited.

In the more typical submission model, the writer is trying to sell to the editor. Submission traces its history through Late Middle English and Latin, once upon a time carrying the denotation a letting down. When a writer submits, they take a lesser role. They join the horde trying to squeeze through the door. Understandably, the pay rates are going to be less. (Um, remember supply and demand...more stories=less pay for stories)

Ironically, submission requires an author to be on their 'A' game. There is a horde at the door, and even the worst FTL markets reject work occasionally, regardless of what other POVs may suggest. (You can't bank on Duotrope for accurate numbers, that's for sure...I'm not accepting 50+% of subs to 52 Stitches...no where near that, in fact) Competition brings out the best (and worst). Competition makes those at the top better. It does. (there are downsides to competition, but I'll reserve those for a later discussion)

Maybe, when a writer becomes good enough to garner commissions on a regular basis, it's because all those submissions did their job. Maybe a writer gets better through competition, first at the little mags, growing stronger and making better sales. It doesn't have to be every writers' journey, but it's a legitimate path...every bit as legit as landing a bestseller and then writing sub-par work on commission (as some "pros" invariably do). Pro writing isn't a clear line on the playground; if it was, as I said yesterday, everyone would eventually cross that line. Writing, like all art, will always be subjective.

...so, rant over. Like a said, snow day today. I should say "ice" day because there just isn't much snow. (see the picture from my front door)

But...the ice continues to fall. Ice is dangerous, I 'spose, and I do teach in a rural district. So I'm off to write our family Christmas letter. My wife, luv ya, thinks this should be easy because "I'm a writer". Har. I don't think any of my weird, dark magical realism, horror-fantasy will work in the letter.

If you're still reading, and I salute you if you are, you can roll over to Flashes in the Dark and read "Bleeding the Trees". I wrote it for Northern Haunts (talk about competition...didn't I know other people would write about maple trees?), and then sold it to another market which subsequently folded. As I've said before, I don't really mind giving away flash. Sorry.

It's the story, not me.

The Power of the Interweb

Every time something like the brouhaha over the pay rate at Black Matrix Publishing rears its ugly mug, I'm reminded of the power of the Interweb^TM. (for a nice POV on said brouhaha, check out L.R. Bonehill's blog)

John Scalzi brought the fight to Black Matrix on his Whatever blog, claiming, in part, to be a watchdog for the little guy, pointing out publishers that are taking advantage of them...er, me. I've been paid less than Black Matrix's stated rate...hell, I've given my work away in the past. I don't have a name that's going to sell anything, so nobody's knocking down my door with 5 cents+ a word. (Scalzi writes about his own rates here) It just ain't going to happen. If I want to earn that kind of money, I'll have to fight for it.

Some claim you should only publish in pro mags, regardless of how long it takes you to get there. Some claim publishing in lesser arenas will smear your name and make it harder to go pro later. I call bullshit for a whole variety of reasons. 1. I would have quit writing before I'd "honed my skills" at all if that were the case (still desperately seeking that 1st pro sale), 2. the amount of space open to unknown writers is pretty damn small...last time I checked, there wasn't a shortage of folks vying for that space, 3. Being published in a pro venue isn't a simple matter of writing well enough--no, it involves having your work in the right place at the right time and a whole pile of external factors (like editorial preferences, etc.). If it were as easy as writing pro-level material, everyone who writes long enough and works hard enough would go "pro".

Sorry, I'm not buying that argument.

In steps the power of the Interweb^TM. David Daley of Five Chapters has a nice interview here. Listen to it. If you don't want to, let me summarize: the internet has made "everything" free. Remember all that blather about cost-benefits analysis last week? It goes for readers, too. Read something of slightly less quality for free online? Sure. Sales have dropped for all printed (dead tree) fiction and nonfiction. Newspapers are dying. Sales are drying up for classic magazine venues for genre fiction. Bestselling authors working awfully damn hard to keep their heads above water. I salute all of them for making it work as long as they have.

One comment on Black Matrix's blog (singed simply "Pittsburgh journalist") carried the angst all professional writers must feel at this point in history:

"Well, as a professional writer who struggles every month to pay the bills, I frankly resent the fact that you are forcing down the price for the rest of us."

Sorry Pittsburgh, it's not Black Matrix that's driving down the price...it's free that's doing it. It's the market. Yeah, some fiction markets make it online and pay decent rates. How Strange Horizons does it, and has done it for so long, amazes me. Awesome, really. But by and large, the money isn't there...not enough to feed the hordes of people, like me, who want to tell stories more than cash checks.

Call me all the nasty names you want. Insult my writing. Throw stones. I have nothing to hide, and I won't comment anonymously on your site 'cause you know, the Interweb^TM has freed my speech a little, too.

Let me "out" with a little snippet from Maya Angelou:

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."

On Eating One's Tail: The Death of Necrography and the State of Short Fiction

Another small press magazine bit the dust. As a former contributor, I received an email that Necrography was no more. The publisher produced one and only one issue (which can still be purchased through Amazon.com), and my short story "Brian Cullen's Confessional" found itself in the TOC. It's a nice little magazine, glossy and slick with clean layout.

Am I sad that another paying market has bitten the dust? Yes.

Am I surprised? No.

I turned to writing short fiction when my first novel was in the "query quagmire". I loved it. Still do. In order to continue to sell short fiction, markets have to exist to exhibit that short fiction. How do paying markets exist? Well, by selling copies (or enough advertising to make the cover price reasonable.)

To whom does a small press horror mag generally sell copies? Well, from my experience, contributors (generally at a discount), or hopeful contributors doing "research". Eat your tail, short fiction community and cough up some cash to help small presses. Buy a copy of a nice looking anthology or magazine. Most of the folks "publishing" do so with limited help, volunteering their services, and often paying for the excess costs from their personal cache. Short fiction publishing doesn't make money, folks. Not for most 'zines...not until they've survived long enough to build a reliable readership. Unfortunately, many don't have the resources to "live" long enough to see that happen.

I quote from the email:

"Our submissions have been 12 times the number of our purchases and the advertising and promotion we've done have only served to increase those submissions rather than our readership."

More advertising=more people jostling for limited spots in the TOC? Where's the sales? If we, as short fiction writers, expect fine, small press venues to continue to exist, we must help support that press. We can't just complain and throw up our hands.

In full disclosure, yes I "own" a small press (all by myself now that Ed's been "fired"--not really, but that's for another post). Yes, I'd love your support...(wink, wink). But part of me want to keep going just because I know there's a bunch of writers whose work needs an outlet, even if I have to eat the financial loss...or part of my own tail.

Starve Artist, Starve!

How much is art worth?

I always like to understand an idea's evolution. This post comes by the way of Jeremy Brooks who sent me to this post from Amanda Effing Palmer, but the seed was planted when I read about author royalties at Galleycat a few weeks ago.

I quote from the comments:

Marvin11: "I think that writer [sic] make MORE than enough money"

PeterKing: "writers should be writing because of their love for the craft, not for the money"

I could go on...but you are all big people. Read for yourself.

So how much is an artist's work worth?

According to some, evidently a penny is too much. Personally, I'm not there yet...I can't and won't demand money for my work. I don't even expect it. The work (in my case writing/editing) is done first, and then maybe, if I'm fortunate, some editor at the Goat's Lunch Review might say "hey, let's print that guy's story and send him a copy and a free donut."

I will continue to write because I enjoy it. I really do...for now. But, if you expect that I'm going to spend thousands of dollars out of my pocket to make someone else money?

I will...only if my payoff is worthwhile. Personally, I favor the direct artist to fan model, but face it: distribution sucks. If I self-publish something, only a handful of people--maybe as many as a dozen, might buy a copy (and that's only after my mom picks up six). I can add value...something special to sweeten the deal (signatures, freebies, etc.), but if nobody sees the deal, it doesn't matter how sweet it is.

You can build a church (or website), but no guarantee people will worship (or visit).

So the big publishing houses have power...at least the ability to help your book be seen by bookstores (they have the distribution channels--they can help it be "seen"). If an author works for a publisher (i.e., the book deal), the publisher is being paid by the author, not the other way around. Famous folk, even D-listers, land huge deals because publishers know they can make money on a D-lister byline. Even a silly celebrity will sell books because of a name. It's about making money, after all. Always has been with "middle men".

Artists create. Fans consume. Middle men do neither, but benefit from the creation/consumption cycle--their motivation is to feed the "beast".

For now, I'm satisfied being what the aforementioned Jeremy Brooks once called a "literary busker". Picture me with my open typewriter case, reading my stories on the street corner, hoping a few kind souls will toss in the latest copy of Goat's Lunch Review...maybe even a leftover donut.

Care to join me?

The New Gatekeepers? IndieReader.com

This story from GalleyCat gave me pause. Go ahead...read it. (Right click on the link and open in a new tab so I don't lose you, of course ;))

So basically, I self-publish and hope these folks (IndieReader.com) agree to let me pay them a yearly fee to list my self-published book on their site (plus they take a % of sales). The supposed benefit, I guess, is that their site would have more traffic than another website, giving said self-published book visibility. Because face it: a website without traffic is just digital doo-doo. I haven't even heard of IndieReader (not that I'm any kind of gatekeeper or 'net expert) but they launch um, like now.

I don't think so.

First of all, "gatekeepers-jeepers creepers". The fee is what they are after, plain and simple. The base cost is $149 (regardless of book #s), plus a $25 submission fee for each book after the first. I don't pay to submit, unless it's a contest. This gatekeeper crap is ridiculous. Maybe, just maybe the "gatekeeper" mentality is what has hindered traditional publishing? In the world of infinite variety (thank you, Interweb^TM), artists find their fans, making the quality of work the gatekeeper, not some third-party profit monger.

...and wait. Doesn't Amazon have more traffic than just about any other book-related site out there? (For better or worse--I know some peeps have issues with Amazon) Um, you can self-pub with them for next to nothing (how about a $3 proof?). Sure, you haven't been "gate-keepered", but well...you didn't shell out 150 bucks, either.

Shite like this makes me oh-so-mad. This is akin to those charlatans (masquerading as agents or publishers) that charge all sorts of fees to look at a manuscript. I'm not the first to take a shot at the cost of being an IndieReader author (look around your friendly neighborhood internet). Not that taking a % is a problem, but up-front fees certainly are. I think the business model is all kinds of jacked up.

But guess what? I bet they have truckloads of hopefuls sending in their books.

(shakes fist at ceiling)

(oh...and for the record: self-publishing wasn't invented with the 21st century)

Edited to add: This post (or non-post, as the post has been removed but the comments haven't) sums up a lot of my feelings. ;)

More goodness from Publisher's Weekly: It seems IndieReader.com is partnered with Blurb.com (a Lulu knock-off). The plot sickens me.