Rethink

Turns out, a month of pretending to be a real writer was enough.

The queries I sent out confirmed my suspicions that any publisher accepting submissions is a vanity press in disguise. In a way, it was easier back in the day. The publishers you found in the Writer’s Digest Yearbook were real, and submitting required time, effort, and money. There were SASEs (Self-Addressed Stamped Envelopes for you youngsters), fresh copy (you often had to re-type the manuscript if it came back wrinkled and dog-eared) and cover letters, and these hurdles kept out the dilettantes.

I’m not dissing the advances in technology, I could not do what I do without them, but it has encouraged a flurry of unscrupulous people willing to self-publish your book for you—something you can do yourself for next to nothing—and charge you thousands for the privilege. And from reading the reviews, it seems doing it yourself would produce better results. And, of course, that same technology encourages many, many people to do just that when, in most cases, they shouldn’t.

But that’s not the only reason I’m having a rethink.

Another is, as much as I hate to admit it, my books are not up to snuff, and that’s a hard truth to swallow. They’re good, and I’m particularly pleased with the Talisman series, but there is no way it can stand up to the many fine YA books currently available (I did a search so I could name some actual authors, but a quick look at Wikipedia brought back a list of over 700).

Additionally, having finally finished The Exodus Connection, the feeling I have for it is akin to the way you might feel if you saw a really nice cake recipe and you gathered all the ingredients and carefully mixed and baked and applied icing only to find it’s lopsided and tastes kinda dry. It’s an all right effort, but you know anyone eating a slice is secretly judging you.

However, having written it for my ten-year-old granddaughter, I have no choice but to move forward. I am having five pre-publication copies printed and will hopefully find five beta readers. My wife will read one (I slipped that into the marriage vows, so she’s contractually obligated) and my Oregon correspondent will get one because she is very kind, which leaves three for anyone else who wants to have a go. Just send me an email and I’ll get one to you.

The final reason is one that took a lot of soul-searching, and that is this: I don’t really want to find a publisher.

The minor and fleeting success I did enjoy showed me a bit of what it is like to have a publishing contract, and interviews with real authors provided confirmation: if I won the publication lottery and sold a manuscript to a bona fide publisher, I would be legally required to revise, edit, and proof the manuscript, do marketing and publicity and, in many cases, write another book the following year, whether I wanted to or not. And, though it pains me to admit it, I haven’t got the time, talent, or inclination for any of that.

I like my life; it’s comfortable, busy and satisfying. A spanner (US: monkey wrench) of that size thrown into the works would really upend things. Besides, I don’t need the money, and I don’t crave the adulation (though a little would not go amiss) so there is no reason to upset the turnip truck.

Therefore, my plan going forward is to re-load all my past efforts back on Amazon (I did this just now, so you hundreds of people rushing to buy them may have to wait an hour or so). And once the beta version is proofed I’ll put The Exodus Connection up, as well. Then I will send a copy to my son with yet another reminder to not give it to his daughter until she is 21. It may have been written for her, but she’s an adult in this near-future dystopian tale, which includes a fair amount of up-close killing and some light sex. (If nothing else, that should encourage more beta readers.)

(Aside: although The Exodus Connection has nothing to do with the Talisman series, astute readers—both of you—may find a cheeky link.)

My warnings about the content are probably unnecessary because I doubt my son will be curious enough to read it, nor do I think my granddaughter will, at age 10 or 21. Truth be told, I don’t think my grandsons read the Talisman series, either. They read the children’s versions, but not the finished series, which is less kiddie book and more YA (with some off-camera sex!!). When you can’t even get your own family to read books you’ve written, starring them as heroes, then you might as well just give up.

Except I’m not going to. Despite the angst and the sleepless nights, I like writing, and I just thought of a terrific cake recipe that I want to try and I’m sure I can pull it off and it will look spectacular and everyone will love it and want a slice.

Maybe.