By Rachael Preston
“Most TWUCers,” writes John Harris of The Writers’ Union of Canada’s members, “think self-publishing is demeaning, that it’s not much better than wanking, an activity associated with immaturity and best left behind once artistic consummation has been achieved.”
Too right. When I announced (mumbled) to my writer friends that I had decided to self-publish my third novel, they tried to talk me out of it. That’s crazy, one said. Another well-intentioned soul even booked an editor’s slot at TWUC’s recent Vancouver AGM and used it to pitch my book.
They didn’t understand. The truth was, when my agent couldn’t place The Fishers of Paradise with one of the larger publishing houses, she suggested I put it up myself on Amazon. It was her fault idea.
Not that it hadn’t crossed my mind several times during the years I spent procrastinating and wallowing in doubt writing. I’d even promised my husband that if nothing came of going the traditional route, I would put Fishers out as an e-book.
Easier said than done. And I’m not talking about the learning curve involved in formatting mobi and epub files. I mean the guts to take the self-pub plunge in the first instance. To cross that line.
Why does anyone do it? What is the attraction?
No gatekeepers, no rejection slips. No upfront costs. No waiting for agents, editors, contracts or sales directors. Freedom to choose your own cover and write your own copy. In place of twice-yearly, hard-to-decipher royalty statements, sales figures available at the click of a mouse (warning: addictive and leads to nasty mood swings).
And, with royalty rates 3 to 7 times higher than those offered by traditional publishers, more money. More potential for money. Even while setting their prices low to attract readers, reams of self-published authors are making coin mid-listers can only dream about. I’m not talking five and six figure advances, but steady monthly paychecks. Enough to cover the mortgage, the car payment, to dine out, to take a nice vacation. Yes, lots of newbie self-pubbers will only ever scrounge enough for a cup of coffee, but the Kindleboard threads reveal a surprising number who have purchased a hell of a lot more. Genre is king in this new(ish) world, as genre’s voracious readers have more readily embraced the new technology and, perhaps, are more willing to take a chance on self-published authors.
My sales? Oh, you know, tick, tick, tick. Marketing’s a bitch. Build a social media platform, the pundits crow, at $4.99 a pop. Really? It’s like flicking your Bic lighter (or phone app equivalent) in a street filled with flashing neon. Most of my ebook sales have come from running free promotions with Amazon Select. For a 90 day exclusivity deal you get the opportunity to set your book free for five days. The higher the number of downloads, the higher your book climbs in the popularity rankings when it reverts to paid. Now your title is visible, ideally having landed on the first couple of pages of a coveted list, which means sales. Plus, you now have dozens of “also boughts” on your product page, another great Amazon book-finding feature.
Giving away thousands of e-books to sell, in my case, a hundred or so may seem counterintuitive, unsustainable even, but for an unknown author in a sea of tens of thousands, it appears to be the only way to generate sales. How long can it continue? As long as it’s working in Amazon’s favour. When the freebie shine wears off, known affectionately as the 30-day cliff, your book tumbles back down the popularity lists and sales flatline–unless you were fortunate enough to have been catapulted into the top 500 paid rankings, or better, the self-sustaining top 100—difficult, but not impossible, for indie authors to crack.
E-readers haven’t yet caught on in Canada to the degree they have in the US. No matter how much I cajoled and wheedled, readers who enjoyed my first two novels were reluctant, sometimes adamantly so, to read electronically. “I like book books,” they insisted. “The smell and feel of them. You know, the real thing.”
So I put out a print version.
Is selling the real thing any easier? Yes. At least on Saturna, where I live, and Hamilton, where the amazing staff at Bryan Prince, Bookseller, have thrown their support behind me. As has Jaime at Epic Books, and Hamilton Public Library. The December edition of Open Book Toronto showed Fishers in the #8 spot of Bryan Prince’s top 10 sellers. The novel’s gritty Hamilton setting helps, also that Bryan Prince launched my first two books. That I taught creative writing at Mohawk College for ten years, and chaired gritLIT, Hamilton’s literary festival, for two. That Hamilton poet John Terpstra penned a beautiful blurb for the inside cover. Also, the book doesn’t suck. It won’t please everyone, but what book ever does?
Was self-publishing the right decision? Depends on what day you ask me. I could have pushed my agent to make another round with the smaller publishers. Fishers wasn’t out of chances, only shots at the bigger houses. I rolled the dice. I’ve since raged about it; I’ve broken down and sobbed. I’ve whooped and hollered and danced the dogs around the room. I’ve made sales in the US, the UK, Germany and Australia—markets my other books never reached. What I haven’t had so far, is much of a Canadian e-audience. This may yet change—all those e-readers and tablets unwrapped in Canada this Christmas, waiting to be filled with novels.
I still have an agent. I will write more books. But would I self-publish again?
Yes. I’ve travelled the learning curve, it isn’t so daunting anymore. Publishing is experiencing radical change and the mid-list is in peril. Whether authors put e-books out themselves or new companies emerge to do it for them, the mid-list is going digital. Devices and platforms may change, but e-books are here to stay.
Mid-List Gone, E-books Here, Time to Self-Pub?
Articles
By Rachael Preston
“Most TWUCers,” writes John Harris of The Writers’ Union of Canada’s members, “think self-publishing is demeaning, that it’s not much better than wanking, an activity associated with immaturity and best left behind once artistic consummation has been achieved.”
Too right. When I announced (mumbled) to my writer friends that I had decided to self-publish my third novel, they tried to talk me out of it. That’s crazy, one said. Another well-intentioned soul even booked an editor’s slot at TWUC’s recent Vancouver AGM and used it to pitch my book.
faultidea.Not that it hadn’t crossed my mind several times during the years I spent
procrastinating and wallowing in doubtwriting. I’d even promised my husband that if nothing came of going the traditional route, I would put Fishers out as an e-book.Easier said than done. And I’m not talking about the learning curve involved in formatting mobi and epub files. I mean the guts to take the self-pub plunge in the first instance. To cross that line.
Why does anyone do it? What is the attraction?
No gatekeepers, no rejection slips. No upfront costs. No waiting for agents, editors, contracts or sales directors. Freedom to choose your own cover and write your own copy. In place of twice-yearly, hard-to-decipher royalty statements, sales figures available at the click of a mouse (warning: addictive and leads to nasty mood swings).
And, with royalty rates 3 to 7 times higher than those offered by traditional publishers, more money. More potential for money. Even while setting their prices low to attract readers, reams of self-published authors are making coin mid-listers can only dream about. I’m not talking five and six figure advances, but steady monthly paychecks. Enough to cover the mortgage, the car payment, to dine out, to take a nice vacation. Yes, lots of newbie self-pubbers will only ever scrounge enough for a cup of coffee, but the Kindleboard threads reveal a surprising number who have purchased a hell of a lot more. Genre is king in this new(ish) world, as genre’s voracious readers have more readily embraced the new technology and, perhaps, are more willing to take a chance on self-published authors.
My sales? Oh, you know, tick, tick, tick. Marketing’s a bitch. Build a social media platform, the pundits crow, at $4.99 a pop. Really? It’s like flicking your Bic lighter (or phone app equivalent) in a street filled with flashing neon. Most of my ebook sales have come from running free promotions with Amazon Select. For a 90 day exclusivity deal you get the opportunity to set your book free for five days. The higher the number of downloads, the higher your book climbs in the popularity rankings when it reverts to paid. Now your title is visible, ideally having landed on the first couple of pages of a coveted list, which means sales. Plus, you now have dozens of “also boughts” on your product page, another great Amazon book-finding feature.
Giving away thousands of e-books to sell, in my case, a hundred or so may seem counterintuitive, unsustainable even, but for an unknown author in a sea of tens of thousands, it appears to be the only way to generate sales. How long can it continue? As long as it’s working in Amazon’s favour. When the freebie shine wears off, known affectionately as the 30-day cliff, your book tumbles back down the popularity lists and sales flatline–unless you were fortunate enough to have been catapulted into the top 500 paid rankings, or better, the self-sustaining top 100—difficult, but not impossible, for indie authors to crack.
E-readers haven’t yet caught on in Canada to the degree they have in the US. No matter how much I cajoled and wheedled, readers who enjoyed my first two novels were reluctant, sometimes adamantly so, to read electronically. “I like book books,” they insisted. “The smell and feel of them. You know, the real thing.”
So I put out a print version.
Is selling the real thing any easier? Yes. At least on Saturna, where I live, and Hamilton, where the amazing staff at Bryan Prince, Bookseller, have thrown their support behind me. As has Jaime at Epic Books, and Hamilton Public Library. The December edition of Open Book Toronto showed Fishers in the #8 spot of Bryan Prince’s top 10 sellers. The novel’s gritty Hamilton setting helps, also that Bryan Prince launched my first two books. That I taught creative writing at Mohawk College for ten years, and chaired gritLIT, Hamilton’s literary festival, for two. That Hamilton poet John Terpstra penned a beautiful blurb for the inside cover. Also, the book doesn’t suck. It won’t please everyone, but what book ever does?
Was self-publishing the right decision? Depends on what day you ask me. I could have pushed my agent to make another round with the smaller publishers. Fishers wasn’t out of chances, only shots at the bigger houses. I rolled the dice. I’ve since raged about it; I’ve broken down and sobbed. I’ve whooped and hollered and danced the dogs around the room. I’ve made sales in the US, the UK, Germany and Australia—markets my other books never reached. What I haven’t had so far, is much of a Canadian e-audience. This may yet change—all those e-readers and tablets unwrapped in Canada this Christmas, waiting to be filled with novels.
I still have an agent. I will write more books. But would I self-publish again?
Yes. I’ve travelled the learning curve, it isn’t so daunting anymore. Publishing is experiencing radical change and the mid-list is in peril. Whether authors put e-books out themselves or new companies emerge to do it for them, the mid-list is going digital. Devices and platforms may change, but e-books are here to stay.