I had lunch
a few days ago with a friend who’s a published author. We met in the 1980s at
meetings of the Mystery Writers of America (Midwest Chapter), which held
monthly meetings in downtown Chicago.
I loved
those meetings. I never missed them if I could help it all, and I dragged my
friends, co-workers, and even my wife to them as often as I could for drinks,
dinner, and discussions about the finer points of murder.
The world
has changed a lot since then. The publishing industry has consolidated into a
few big publishers and a lot of smaller, independent ones, e-books are now a
force to be reckoned with (and don’t get me wrong—I love reading e-books on my
iPad), and anyone can put out an e-book on Amazon.
But it sure
seemed simpler when I went to my first MWA meeting. I was suddenly in the same
room with a combination of wannabe writers like me and a bunch of successful,
published authors. They may not have been making millions of dollars writing NY Times bestsellers (although some of
them eventually did), but the formula for success they shared was basically
this: Write a book, get some feedback, and find an agent—or maybe send it
directly to a publisher. That worked for at least a few writers in the group. Keep
doing it, and eventually you might see your books on the shelves of your local
bookstore. Back when there were actual bookstores.
My friend has
written a bunch of really good crime novels. They range from a series of books featuring
a hard-boiled Chicago cab driver to a couple of novels about a reformed
terrorist, and then to a sequence of police procedurals in the 1960s era. I
confess that I haven’t read every single book he’s written, especially since I
switched my focus from mysteries to science fiction in the mid-2000s, but he’s
a fine writer. And right now he’s frustrated at not knowing how to sell the
books he’s already published, and wondering how he’s going to get a publisher
to put out his most recent works.
And me?
After almost 30 years, I’m sort of nowhere. Lots of stuff written, none of it
sold. One award for an SF story. One detective novel almost published, except
that the publisher went out of business.
I could
simply publish Prodigal Prince on
Amazon. And that’s a serious option. I have another novel I’m sending around to
actual publishers, an urban fantasy, and I have higher hopes for that than for
my two Foxe novels because I think it’s more original, and it fits into an
established niche without being too derivative.
But I sure
hope someday I can find a publisher, because I don’t think I’m suited for a
career of trying to market and promote my own work all by myself. I admit I’ve
made a lot of mistakes. I’m certainly going about this all wrong.
The problem
is, I can’t stop. I read a story once about Madeleine L’Engle, who wrote A
Wrinkle In Time. One night after a lot of failure she decided to quit
writing. Then, as she was walking upstairs to go to bed, she thought of a story
about a writer who decided to quit writing, and by the time she reached the top
of the stairs she realized that was her next story.
Or something
like that. Maybe I remember it wrong. But even so, that’s me. For better or
worse, I’m going to keep going.
Darn it.
Write, John, write! You can self publish. I've purchsed a number of Kindle books on Amazon by self publishing authors. Some good, some even more. Your Foxe is very good and could find an audience. Don't stop. Ebooks for the 21st century!
ReplyDeleteDon't stop, John. Keep going. It's your thing. If the marketing aspect isn't your thing, maybe try the RenFest model: the artists make art, and then they hire an entrepreneur/staff to man the booth and do the selling. Know any salesmen who would make a good partner? But don't stop writing.
ReplyDeleteThat's exactly the thing: Publishing it on Amazon is a very attractive option, but actually winning attention for it seems like a whole different skill set. So I'm thinking about it.
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