An iconoclast examines fiction writing: lesson three of five…
[Many readers of this blog are familiar with my unconventional and acerbic opinions about the writing business—see the posts archived in the “Writing” category of this blog. I recently saw something about SkillShare, so I thought maybe it was time to distill some of those ideas into a short course on fiction writing for would-be authors. You’re in luck. A perusal of that site’s offerings about writing didn’t impress me at all. So, here’s my short and unconventional course—and it’s free!
Actually, like any Irish whiskey, this little course is thrice distilled—a development over the years of my own ideas about writing, the afore-mentioned blog posts, and now this mini-course. You might not like some of the things I say because I don’t sugarcoat my opinions. That’s too bad. They’re my honest opinions at this stage in my writing career. BTW, while readers might enjoy my points of view, this is mostly for indie writers, but traditionally published authors who aren’t Patterson’s workers on his book-writing assembly line, or other Big Five old stallions, i.e. midlist authors, can benefit too. Without further comment, here’s lesson three.]
An Iconoclast Examines Fiction Writing
Lesson Three: Indie or Traditional?
Indie writers need to make a lot of decisions and do a lot of DIY before they reach out to their readers with a new release. So do most traditionally published writers. So, what’s the difference? The first group manages their entire business; the second supposedly pays others to manage the first part of producing the book from a manuscript (MS). The traditionally published author pays for that too, though. Don’t think so? Are you in for a surprise! The bloodletting will continue for the life of your contract and beyond. (Here’s where I differ from King’s On Writing in a major way, of course. Not mentioning this choice dates King’s book at the very least, or shows he disparages the indie option at the worst. We can excuse him, I suppose—he’s so famous he doesn’t have to worry about much, except maybe where his desk is placed.)
Don’t kid yourself. Whether indie or traditional writer, you’ll be working your butt off. The first step is always the same, creating that polished MS. The last steps are always the same (see the next two lessons). And you’ll pay dearly for the in-between by going the traditional route. First, traditional contracts are egregious (they always have been, even according to King). Not only is your royalty percentage low (the publisher’s cut is high because s/he has a lot of inflated bureaucracy to pay for, although, as years have passed, s/he does less and less for you, the author, so s/he gets more), and you often have to repay advances if your book doesn’t sell. Moreover, that starry-eyed yearning to see your book on the shelves of a big book barn doesn’t last long, max a few months, before all books are returned to the publisher. Finally, you’ve signed all your rights away to that book for years to come unless you pay a hefty penalty. Of course, there are a wide variety of contracts and lots of fine print—the publishers have lawyers on staff, and you don’t. Those lawyers are protecting the publisher’s interests, not yours. Be sure you understand what you’re signing!
Negatives and positives for the traditional route. Maybe you’re expecting your book to be a huge success, so you’re willing to tolerate the meager royalties from traditional publishing. You don’t like the idea of DIY and having to be your own boss. Or, you’re saying you just want to write your stories and forget about the rest. OK. If you were indie, you’d still need things that a traditional publisher provides, but the latter might not listen to you if you don’t like her/his cover, and s/he might not listen to you if you push back on final editorial comments of your MS (agents do that too—see below).
King, Koontz, Baldacci, and Deaver, to name a few best-selling authors (the definition of that is often arbitrary because sales don’t necessarily imply the book earns any literary respect) might be able to get by with meager royalties—they sell a lot of books!—but you don’t own their brands. Let’s face it: readers pay attention to authors if they spin a good yarn (that’s why any author should mention previous books somewhere in the new one). I can’t even say the four I’ve mentioned are household names, but they’re known brands in the publishing industry.
Chances are your book won’t sell well during that two or three month trial period in the bookstores, in spite of all the coddling and kudos from your agent and publisher, and your publisher won’t give a rat’s ass in the long run because s/he always has other authors to exploit (too strong a word? check the contracts!). You will, though, especially after you decide, “Oh well, I’ll just go indie”—getting your rights to that MS now is a lot more difficult! (Just ask Barry Eisler or Joe Konrath, two authors who struggled to go indie and often tell the world about that struggle.)
You’re the boss as an indie writer. That’s a negative and a positive. You might save a lot of time and grief by going indie ab initio. It’s your choice. Choose wisely. Truth is, chances are slim you’ll be the next Deaver or King. These authors and other “traditionalists” I’ve named have been doing their shtick quite a while, and they got in on the ground floor. Patience is a virtue, and it’s also a necessity in this new era of digital publishing, no matter what route you choose. (And King is wrong again: there is a conspiracy against indie writers. All traditional publishers and writers like King hate them—many have said so publicly because they feel threatened. They even have an organization called Authors Guild that has institutionalized this hatred.)
Agents. They’re pariahs in general (ever rented an apartment or bought or sold a house?), book agents in particular. The latter can be helpful, but more and more they’re just gatekeepers. (Instead of St. Peter at the pearly gates, though, they’re guarding the gates to Hades, as you’ll see below.) They filter out all those books they think the publishers won’t care about (meaning they’re the first determiners of so-called “market value,” even though no one can predict which books “take off,” especially them!).
Too many book agents, especially the younger ones, are failed and disgruntled wannabe authors who couldn’t, can’t, and shouldn’t write; and too many are recent MFA graduates who love books but get lost in the morass of traditional publishing’s greedy business model. More and more, their rejections are form emails without any useful information for the querying author—it’s been that way for the last twenty years at least (more, if you believe King’s tales of woe). And don’t dance the happy dance if they ask to read your MS—they can sit on it for months and then blow you off with nary an explanation beyond “sorry, not for ME after all” (emphasis mine for the arrogant deity-complex).
If you go the agent route, you will have to learn to write blurbs (you’ll need that anyway when you release your books) and query letters (you’ll probably also need those skills to get reviews, so it’s good to learn them). You need to read the agent’s rulebook carefully—some want snail-mail query letters (fewer these days); some want sample chapters with the query letter, sometimes in the text of an email (no one wants a virus); and still others want a complete MS (but most will request the MS only when they’re at least a bit interested in the story idea). Most will want an already finished MS because they don’t want to coddle you into finishing it (only the VIPs like King are coddled these days).
Prepare the MS to their specs (you’ll probably need a new version for every agent who asks for it!). Get used to pat phrases in their responses: “Sorry, your MS has potential but needs a lot of work” translates to “I think your idea sucks, so go away”; “I have too many novels in that genre” translates to “Write in another genre because you sure suck at this one.” Some offer gratuitous critiques: You send an MS for a sci-fi novel and s/he responds, “Your novel has too much narrative.” That translates to “I have no idea how to write sci-fi,” which is true, because s/he doesn’t understand world-building.
The turnover among agents is startling. Unlike incompetent teachers (those who can, do; those who can’t, teach—oops, I’m writing lessons on writing!), pay is low at the beginning and there are no unions. (Only the traditional publishers’ lackeys occasionally belong to unions—there’s no union for authors, by the way, even though Authors Guild, that quintessential protector of VIP traditionally published authors and their publishing houses, claims to be.) Still, if you can find one you can work with, more power to you. That can make a difference in an author’s life, I suppose, especially to those writers who like to be coddled (coddling only increases after you sell a lot of books).
Is there a place for traditional publishing? Sure. The actual production of the book for the indie writer is fraught with difficulties. (See the next lesson.) The traditional publisher can still offer an advance—you might get some money up front (less and less as the years roll by). Caveat emptor: you won’t see any royalties until you pay for that advance, and if your book doesn’t sell, many contracts require a payback. Your publisher might even line up a few book signings. All those things might be a positive for some writers. You might even find an agent you like, who has your interests at heart, and does her or his damnedest to get your book to a major publisher.
With today’s options, I don’t know why you’d try, though. When I tried, there were only two options: traditional publishing or vanity presses. I didn’t want the latter (do they still exist?), one of my many sins is pride, so I tried the former. Big mistake! I wasted many years and collected many rejections (over 1000). So I finally went POD and then into indie ebooks (I’m migrating back a little to POD as my budget permits).
Don’t let anyone tell you vanity is indie, by the way. That’s like saying a wooly mammoth is a modern elephant, except vanity presses (some are still around) didn’t even have the positive qualities of the mammoth. And if anyone says your indie book is vanity press with a smirk on her or his face, restrain yourself—that ignoramus doesn’t know what the hell s/he’s talking about (you should only write about homicides, not commit them!).
Either way, it’s up to you. The last lesson in this course is about PR and marketing. No matter the route you take, that chore is mostly yours. No one will buy your book if they don’t know who you are (name recognition) and know about your book (book recognition). But more on that later. First, we need to discuss formats. In this new age of publishing, there are many as the definition of “book” acquires new meanings.
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[Next week: Lesson Four, “You’ll Need Help.”]
In libris libertas….
