Posts Tagged ‘ advice ’

Truths of Sherlock Holmes (Part 1)

Sherlock Holmes has taught me many things. For a start, that fictional source material is often better than the version of it you’ve seen on the telly; but also that some TV creators do understand the source material and do a brilliant job of recreating it for the small screen, as discussed in my previous post.

But there are other, more practical truths that travel writer Tim Richards and I have learned in decades of studying the great detective and his methods.

Here’s a dozen of them, with references to stories which you can read via this link to Project Gutenberg. No, really, it’s our pleasure.

  1. Never trust a colonel. Unless they own a racehorse. Then it’s okay to simply not like him. We don’t know how well this one applies to life, but we’re always wary when there’s a colonel in the offing.
    (See Silver Blaze, The Bruce-Partington Plans, The Empty House)
  2. If a family member has a secret past they won’t talk about (especially if they’re from America) – it will end in tears.  The basic rule for life being it’s best to be honest with those you love, especially if your secrets might bring them harm.
    (See The Dancing Men, The Five Orange Pips, The Yellow Face)
  3. If a stranger makes a job offer or a bid on your house/property that is far too good to be true – it is. What’s more, your life may be in danger. At the very least, they’re trying to steal something from the bank over the road. Time has not dimmed the truth that you should be very wary of something that seems too good to be true (especially if the offer is coming from an exiled Nigerian prince).
    (See The Three Gables, The Copper Beeches, The Red-Headed League)
  4. You can tell a lot about a person by their hat. Or by their accessories in general. It’s probably not as easy these days, but we remain fascinated by the idea that a person’s dress and accoutrements can tell you as much about them as the way they speak and what they say.
    (See especially The Blue Carbuncle for Holmes’ masterful study of a hat, culminating in the deduction that a man’s wife has ceased to love him)
  5. Never be too impressed by someone’s high station in life or their charming manners. “The most winning woman I ever knew was hanged for poisoning three little children for their insurance-money, and the most repellent man of my acquaintance is a philanthropist who has spent nearly a quarter of a million upon the London poor.” – Sherlock Holmes in The Sign of Four. Conan Doyle and Holmes both knew that while people love stereotypes, they get in the way of discovering the truth. Holmes was always disdainful of class in that sense.
    (See A Study in Scarlet, A Scandal in Bohemia, The Bruce-Partington Plans.)
  6. Brandy is a miracle cure-all. It’s astonishing how often Conan Doyle has brandy administered to someone who’s had a shock. But sometimes all you need is a good stiff drink and a minute to collect yourself, before you’re right to go again. We could do with a spot of it now.
    (See The Greek Interpreter, where brandy brings a man back from the brink of death by sulphur poisoning. Amazing stuff, brandy.)

For the remaining six truths (and a bonus 13th), click here to read the second part on Tim’s travel blog Aerohaveno.

Narrelle M Harris is a Melbourne-based writer. Find out more about her books, iPhone apps, public speaking and other activities at www.narrellemharris.com.

The art of receiving

In December, the always thoughtful Ross Gittins wrote about studies on how spending money on gifts and donations makes people happier than just buying things for themselves. It’s one of many studies that show how economics and altruism can combine to make people more satisfied with their lives.

However, while the art of giving is the subject of much analysis, I’m not sure as much thought is given to how well we receive things – whether it be gifts, help or compliments.

It’s true that some things are too extravagant to accept, and it may be better to demur on those occasions. But some people are unable to accept even the smallest token or word of appreciation, and fight so hard to reject both that the giver may end up feeling like they were trying to pass on something stinky instead of something nice.

It can be hard to accept things graciously. Perhaps we think that by refusing a compliment or offer of help, we’re being thoughtful and modest, or maybe we’re just embarrassed and don’t feel like we deserve it. Mostly, we don’t think how the person at the other end of the exchange feels about our repeated cries of ‘No, no, no, you mustn’t! I can’t!’

When Tim and I returned from three years of living overseas, we came back with almost nothing. We had no jobs to return to and we came back fretful from some things that had happened while living in Poland: notably the murder of our landlord in the downstairs of the building in which we lived. I don’t think we realised how distressed we were at the time, but our need to get home meant that we weren’t able to prepare better for coming home.

We needed help from our friends and our families – and they did not desert us. A friend let us stay in her house until we were settled. That was a few months of two more people in her home, until we could find work and then a flat to live in. It took a little while to be able to contribute towards household costs, too. We tried to be good guests, doing our share of the cleaning and cooking, but it must have been a bit of a strain. Once we moved, she and others helped us to move the little we owned and donated some furniture as well. Everyone was very kind and incredibly generous, particularly as we had no idea when or if we’d ever be able to repay them.

It was my first lesson in learning to receive with grace. I had to accept help knowing we might never repay that help in kind – but knowing that I’d do what I could if they ever needed me. I resolved to pay it forward whenever I could, because kindness and generosity like that is inspiring.

I said a heartfelt thank you, and let my friends help me.

It’s strange how difficult a thing that can be. To let someone help you without feeling guilty, to accept a compliment without protesting too much. Accepting a kindness or a good word with grace is a kind of gift itself. It allows someone the pleasure of giving, which itself can be an act with the subtext of ‘I care about you’.

Friendships aren’t based on keeping a ledger in which you tally up the favours.  As long as you both know that you’ll help out when and where you can, it shouldn’t be a numbers game, weighing up the number and worth of the things you do for each other. That’s a business relationship, not a friendship. Friends do what they can, when they can, however they can, in ways both large and small.

Graciously accepting that compliment or offer of help, with a heartfelt thank you, is freeing, as well. It feels good to let your friends be nice to you, and builds up positive feelings which make it easy to be there for others when they need you.

So learn to accept those declarations of friendship and love with grace and a smile, and give them in return, unconditionally. It’s an art, I know, but one worth learning.

Narrelle M Harris is a Melbourne-based writer. Find out more about her books, iPhone apps, public speaking and other activities at www.narrellemharris.com.

Narrelle’s Xmas list for the Nice and the Naughty

It’s that time of year when even the atheists among us celebrate the end of another year by seeking out gifts for our loved ones. Whether your celebrations are secular, religious or pagan, you may be looking for some ideas for gifts. (If you don’t celebrate Xmas, this list may help you for other festivals and birthdays. Also for unbirthdays and those times when you think, damnit, *I* need a present.)

You could visit Twelfth Planet Press and buy one of their excellent volumes. Publisher Alisa Krasnostein recently won a World Fantasy Award for her outstanding work with this small press. You could even splash out on a subscription to the entire Twelve Planets series. Bad Power is the most recent of the series. (My volume, Showtime, will be released in early 2012. It contains a Gary/Lissa story!)

If you’re a Melbourne local, you should locate one of the Melburnalia pop-up shops, where you can find items hand-crafted by your fellow citizens! Goods on offer include jewellery by the lovely Ali Alexander, delightful books from Arcade Publications, knitware, cycling accessories, tea, quirky buttons and, you  know, neat stuff. The pop-up shops are at terrific Melbourne locations too, like Captains of Industry and the Parlour in the Nicholas Building. The shops are only open until Christmas Eve, so get there while you can! Find them on Twitter or Facebook for addresses and hours.

*Late addition* What was I thinking to have missed a link to Clan Destine Press? If you love Kerry Greenwood’s Phryne Fisher books, it might be time to branch out with her historical novels set in ancient Egypt and ancient Greece. Clan Destine also has crime books, including Lindy Cameron’s excellent actio thriller, Redback. Non-fiction, comic fantasy and the story of Dougal the kitten are also on the site.

Bookshops

You could also just go straight to Arcade Publications online to get a set of their wonderful little books about Melbourne. I can personally recommend Madame Brussells: This Moral Pandemonium, about Melbourne’s famous 19th century Madam, but there are books about E W Cole, Australia’s pin-up girls from the 60s and, recently, Australia’s first novelist, Henry Savery.

Other bookshops you should visit, online or in person, are:

  • Embiggen Books, whose names comes from the Simpsons! And they have books about cool science as well as fiction. They stock some Twelfth Planet Press titles too, so show them some love. (I interviewed Warren a while back too.)
  • Readers’ Feast, which is about to re-open at the old Georges building on Collins Street. We’ve missed them. Show them some love too.
  • Of Science and Swords has moved to 377 Little Collins Street and now has a flatmate in Critical Hit. This means you can get great fantasy and SF books along with geek T-shirts and Angry Birds slippers.
  • Oh, and Fablecroft are having a sale: impressive books, with award nominees among the stories.

Books I loved this year:

  • The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins – not new, but brilliant. You may recall that I gobbled the trilogy up in five days.  The film comes out next year, so get your friends and family into the book first! If they’ve already read The Hunger Games, I recommend The Girl WHo Was on Fire, a collection of excellent essays about the trilogy. Here’s my review of that book.
  • A Most Pecular Malaysian Murder by Shamini Flint is the first of her Inspector Singh series. Its great to read a crime novel set in another culture, written by a person from that culture. It’s a good choice for someone who likes their crime fic in foreign locales.
  • The Shattering by Karen Healey – Karen Healey is doing some terrific work, and her second book is a fantasy set in contemporary NZ, with a multicultural cast and a sense of humour, as well as heart-stopping moments. This book deals with teen suicide and grief in ways both illuminating and sensitive. It’s also got magic, idyllic yet sinister small towns, wonderful textured characters and smart, pacy plotting.
  • Melbourne by Sophie Cunningham is a love letter to Melbourne and a beautifully crafted object in its own right. Perfect for the Melburnite who has everything. Here’s my review.

Other books I loved this year (also set in Melbourne) were Graffiti Moon by Cath Crowley and Madigan Mine by Kirstyn McDermott. The Happiest Refugee by Anh Do was another favourite, the well deserved Book of the Year winner.

Finally, it’s not out yet (but aha! I read an early version and I think it’s AMAZING!),  Mary Borsellino’s new book, The Devil’s Mixtape, is due out on 15 December from Omnium Gatherum. In her trademark style, all sharp edges, crystal prose, horror, heart and compassion, The Devil’s Mixtape follows three threads: a girl writing letters to her sister from hell, a music journalist following a band on tour and a road trip in 1950s Australia. I can’t wait to get an official copy!

STOP PRESS 16122011:  The Devil’s Mixtape e-book, published by Omnium Gatherum, is now availabe from Amazon.com for only US$3.99!! (It’s brilliant: review coming soon!)

Anyway, I hope you find some ideas there. And hell, it’s the time for indulgence, so why not buy yourself a present while you’re at it?

Narrelle M Harris is a Melbourne-based writer. Find out more about her books, iPhone apps, public speaking and other activities at www.narrellemharris.com.

Many strings to my bow

A few months ago during the Q&A session of one of my library talks, I mentioned that I had a day job. One of the attendees promptly asked me whether, in that case, my novel writing was just a hobby.

I have to say, the comment stung a little. I replied that, no, it was not a hobby. That in fact many Australian writers could not afford to write full time and therefore had day jobs as well as writing novels and short stories. Some are lawyers, academics or office workers. We squeeze in our fiction writing around our jobs and families. We get paid, even if it’s not always a lot of money. For every writer who also has a day job, writing is not ‘just a hobby’.

The fact is, my day job is part of my work as a writer. I’m very lucky that I get to be a writer for my living as well as my vocation. I generally contract my skills out these days, so I have done all kinds of writing: external communications, advertising copy, editing of content for the web, report writing, copyediting.

At present I edit training materials for grammar, punctuation and style. It may sound dull to some of you, but i’m getting paid to be pernickety about grammar, so I enjoy it. I learn a lot too, so it is helping me becoming a better writer in other fields.

Those other fields include writing content for iPhone apps. My app, Melbourne Literary, was done in partnership with the US tech company Sutro Media. They provided the platform (the content management system, basically).  I pitched the idea of the app to them and then wrote everything and sourced all the pictures. I’ve pitched another app idea since then and am in the process of writing that one too.  We share the profits of the apps sold through iTunes (and hopefully one day soon through Android). So that’s another little bit of income from my writing.

I have my fiction writing, too. So far I’ve had four novels published, one short fiction story and one non-fiction essay. I wrote a one act play once, and was paid a royalty by the little theatre that performed it in WA a few years ago.

Another writing-related activity I do is public speaking. I talk to libraries and organisations (and very occasionally schools) about different aspects of writing and reading. Of course, being a writer, pretty much everything I do counts as research. Travel, theatre, reading, shopping. It’s a good life.

There are so many things to being a writer, especially these days, when diversifying your skills is so important. All writers, these days, also need to be marketers, PR people, public speakers, educators, mentors and more.

I consider myself so lucky to be a professional writer in so many parts of my life. I pay the bills, I nourish my creative self and I have opportunities to meet and encourage other writers and readers. And every different type of writing (or speaking about writing) that I do adds to my knowledge and skills, and makes me a better writer.

Really, I have the best life!

(But I confess, if no-one paid me to write, I’d write anyway.)

 

Narrelle M Harris is a Melbourne-based writer. Find out more about her books, iPhone apps, public speaking and other activities at www.narrellemharris.com.

Authors Suing Libraries. Part Three—The rest of the interview with Sophie Masson

This post follows on from Parts One and Two of Authors Suing Libraries.

In the first blog I gave a precis and some opinions about Google Books, the Hathi Trust and whether writers are tacky for suing libraries. The second post was part one of my interview with Sophie Masson, writer and Chair of the Australian Society of Authors, to find out more about the relevant issues.

This is Part Three of the series, the rest of the interview with Sophie Masson. I hope you find it useful

* *

Narrelle: I see that already there are cases of books labelled as ‘orphaned’ that are not orphaned at all, and the writers are in fact still alive and fairly easy to find. What are the real, practical consequences for the authors of ‘orphaned’ books if they and their books are not reunited in the relevant database?

Sophie Masson: It is rare indeed that there are real ‘orphan works’. Books are either in copyright or they are not. Clearly, when authors are alive, they own the copyright, unless they have assigned the copyright to someone else, ie by way of contract or agreement, as a gift or to a publisher or institution as part of their contract.

In Australia, works come into the public domain 70 years after an author’s death. Thus an author’s estate (whoever are the author’s beneficiaries of the works) own the copyright after the author’s death. That can be family, friends, organisations, whoever you’ve left your copyright to. So even when authors have died, people wishing to do such things as quote from, extract or digitise their works must seek permission from the rights holders. This can be paid or provided free, with acknowledgement, but it must still be requested.

Of course it could be said that sometimes it’s very hard to track down who owns the rights in a book published long ago. But it is still incumbent on whoever wants to use it to identify the rights holder. Out of print doesn’t mean out of copyright. But where an author is alive, easily identified and is clearly the owner of the copyright, there is simply no excuse that can be made.

What it means for authors if works are abducted in the way those in the Hathi Trust case were, is that not only are you not remunerated for the use of your work, but you have no control over how it is presented. You will get no lending rights if these apply, no reproduction rights payments (CAL), and future legal digitisation of that work will be in jeopardy. And if respectable bodies like university libraries engage in this kind of behaviour, and are allowed to get away with it, what hope is there for any of us to protect our rights as creators?

* *

Narrelle: Many people think a digital repository of all books is a good and noble thing. Is there a model of doing this which the ASA would consider supporting? (One that does not have a commercial aspect, for example? One that was run by the Australian National Library or the Library of Congress in the US?)

Sophie Masson: The ASA is not at all against digitisation per se or a digital respository of books per se, properly constituted. It would be worth investigating whether a national scheme could be devised, perhaps co-ordinated through our own National Library, but with proper consultation with creators, publishers, libraries and readers.

This would also work to ensure that, just as in the ‘physical library’, authors would be eligible for PLR and ELR on the books in such digital libraries. This is something that would not occur if the standard digital library was based outside Australia, incidentally, as would have been the case with both Google and Hathi Trust.

Readers would not be disadvantaged by such a scheme. Quite the opposite, because it would ensure equity of access throughout the country. Libraries—which have always worked in a happy partnership with creators and publishers—would have a unified system suitable for Australian conditions. And of course it could also be part of an international network of such properly-constituted digital libraries.

What the ASA is dead against is the attempt by some parties to attempt to destroy or dilute copyright. Authors and illustrators depend on copyright for our living. Without it, we would have no royalties, no lending rights, no copying payments, and no way of earning subsidiary rights. Frankly we could not earn a living from our work. And we could not protect its artistic integrity either.

Besides, intellectual property rights are the same as any other property rights. No-one can simply walk into your house and take it over, unless you live in a dictatorship. No-one should be allowed to simply help themselves to your books, either. Whether that is for ‘commercial’ purposes, as was the case for Google, or supposedly for high-flown ‘noble’ purposes of access, as was the case with Hathi Trust, doesn’t matter. Our rights as creators should be respected, in the world of paper books and in the world of digital books. As I said before, the format makes no difference whatsoever to that. And why on earth should it?

There’s this iconoclastic Internet-based movement which claims that ‘copyright is theft’, rather like the old slogan of ‘property is theft’. Authors and publishers have even been characterized as villains for defending rights that these people think shouldn’t exist (though of course if it was a question of their own rights it would be a different story!)

Much of this is simply to do with the idea that some people think everything digital ought to be free, because they associate it with the Internet, where things have very often been free. But some of it may also be due to a simple misunderstanding of copyright of books. I think some people may confuse it with a ‘patent’, whereby you can register an idea as belonging to you and no-one is allowed to even try that idea for at least innovation patent 8 years, standard patent 20 years, unless of course you sell your patent in the meantime.

Patents protect inventors from being ripped off, but they can also lead to situations whereby a company may buy a patent from an inventor and sit on an idea without doing anything about it, purely to stop others developing that particular idea, or to sell it on the highest bidder. This has been claimed by some people to slow progress on worthwhile ideas or to make a grab for things that aren’t actually anyone’s brainchild (like a wild plant occurring in nature, for instance.)

But copyright such as occurs with literary works isn’t about squatting on an idea; it’s about protecting the integrity of a creative work. To use a personal example, I have no copyright on the idea of the manhunt for Ned Kelly, and I couldn’t and wouldn’t want to stop anyone else who wanted to write a novel set against that background. Where I do have copyright is in my actual novel, The Hunt for Ned Kelly, and it is protected by law from piracy, plagiarism and any other unauthorised use.

I mentioned France earlier in regards to these issues. Personally, I think it offers a good model for possible solutions to these issues. The French have always strongly defended their national culture, and literature is a very important part of that. What is less well known is how much they’ve been anticipating these digital literary issues and working collaboratively with the book industry on solutions for present and future problems.

The successful Google case in France resulted in the Government expanding its already evolving national digitisation program, Gallica, which is run within the Bibliotheque Nationale de France (National Library–http://gallica.bnf.fr/ )

The French Ministry of Culture has been working extensively with authors, publishers, and libraries to make this national scheme into a digital repository of works. They are also working on solutions to the problem of the so-called ‘orphan works’ by proper research and documentation and by dealing with what they call ‘the grey zone’—that is, books published before 1995 where rights holders may or may not be known but where digital rights clauses were not included in contracts.

Digital rights for these books will be established by the Government and Gallica will digitise them—with the permission of authors. Commercial exploitation can remain with the writers, with the publishers if they wish, or instead go to Gallica.

This is potentially a very big and important intervention as it could set the model for e-book commercialisation in France and set national formatting standards, as well as lay the ground for a genuinely collaborative and useful digital repository of books.

**

So there we are. I hope between Part one’s summary and opinions and Sophie Masson’s detailed responses to my questions, you are no longer as confused as I used to be about Google Books, the Hathi Trust and who, exactly, looks bad when authors feel they have to sue libraries in order to protect their ability to make a living.

Doing It Yourself (with other people)

A little while back, I wrote about self-publishers needing to put in the time and effort to match the excellent work that traditional publishers do in getting a novel ready for publication. That work includes editing, proofreading, cover art and design. (Not to mention expertise, PR contacts and simply taking on all that hard slog so that the author doesn’t have to do it.)

It’s all well and good, you say, to declare that e-book authors need editors and cover designers and whatnot. But where are these persons of skill and virtue?

Good question, I reply to my imagined interrogators, where are they indeed?

So I asked some fabulous and talented people I know for some clues.

Alex Adsett of Alex Adsett Publishing Services says “The absolute best place to start for all this information is the Australian Writers’ Marketplace.  It’s a book and an online database, and invaluable if you’re looking for an editor.” Alex herself provides publishing advice, including contract and rights advice, to all writers.

Clandestine Books, headed by crime writer Lindy Cameron, provides editorial and PR services, including manuscript assessment, too.

Individuals offer editing services as well. Gillian Pollack (author of Life Through Cellophane) is a teacher-editor based in Canberra. Her approach is to work with writers to increase their editing skills. “Editing is part of the writer’s longer journey when they work with me.” You can find her contact details at http://www.gillianpolack.com.

Laura Goodin, who Gillian also recommended, has specialised in business and academic writing and may be a good choice if you’re writing a non-fiction book.  Another of Gillian’s recommendations is Elizabeth Fitzgerald. Elizabeth’s website,  Earl Grey Editing, will be active in a week or so. In the meantime, you can email her on elizabethafitzgerald@gmail.com for information and her rates.

The divine Davina MacLeod is the freelancer who copyedited The Opposite of Life. She charges by the double-spaced 12-point page and can be contacted on davinamacleod@gmail.com for a quote. Davina also does illustration and can be hired for cover designs.

Twelfth Planet Press publisher, Alisa Krasnostein, says “I hear Sarah Endacott is one of the best editors there are.” Endacott also provides manuscript assessment.

In terms of cover art and design, Lucy Sussex—researcher, reviewer and writer of crime and science fiction—says: “I find my own artists–go to galleries, collect photos, fight like hell with the publisher to get a decent image on the front of the book. It’s worked well so far.”

The previously-mentioned Gillian Pollack recommends Andrew McKiernan of Kephra Design, who designs for Aurealis and designed the cover of Life through Cellophane. Gillian also spoke highly of illustrator Kathleen Jennings in Brisbane.

For printing your book, Paul Collins, writer and publisher at Ford Street Publishing, says “One of the cheapest printers I’ve come across is a print broker called Alfred Hornung of Tingleman Pty Ltd.”   Paul also recommended Ekonvurs for the conversion of print to e-books.

So if you want to get a new cover and do a final polish on the out-of-print book you want to e-publish, or if you’re thinking about self-publishing an original manuscript, visit the websites or get in touch with these persons of skill (and, one assumes, virtue) for some quotes. Work out a budget to make sure your e-book is whipped into the best possible shape, with all of its apostrophes and commas in the right place. Banish those typos and continuity errors to the nether reaches of hell with some expert help and make your book the best it can be.

The role of the writer’s friend

On Friday night, I attended the launch for Pulp Fiction Press’s latest book, Carolyn Morwood’s Death and the Spanish Lady. It’s a murder mystery set in Melbourne in 1919, in the aftermath of the Great War and during the deadly flu epidemic that killed more people than the actual war managed to do. I’m excited to see it out and it’s next on my to-read pile!

I love a book launch. The publisher gets to finally release their latest project into the wild. An honoured guest gets to launch it with good and kindly words about the author, the subject matter and how everyone there should buy a copy because BOOK X IS AWESOME AND YOU WILL TOTALLY LOVE IT.

And the nervous author, often better at hiding behind a keyboard and typing than standing up in front of a bunch of people, gets to say “I’m really proud of my book. I hope you like it.” (Perhaps with a subtext of “I’m kind of glad it is all over now. Someone pass me a drink!.” and maybe a frisson of ‘Oh god, now I have to write another one!!”

In short, a book launch is all promise and hope. It’s that marvellous/terrifying moment of letting your words finally fly beyond your own brain and fingertips and hopefully find some hearts and minds in which to nest.

But the release of a novel can be a fractious time for a writer as well. To be more accurate, it’s the months after the release that can be fractious, with well-meaning friends deciding that the best time for critical feedback on everything they think you did wrong is after publication.

I’m not talking about reviews, whether in the pages of a newspaper or magazine or in the blog of an enthusiast. All writers know that their book will be reviewed, and they hope some people will like it, though they know some people will hate it. It’s part of the deal. Bad reviews only upset me, for example, when I agree with the point they’re making. But I can live with the bad reviews. Not everyone’s going to like what I do. I don’t like everything that other people do. We all bring our own interpretation and ideas to what we read. I’m not even trying to please all of the people all of the time, so it’s hardly surprising when I don’t.

I’m talking about the friends who say “There’s a spelling error on page 58″ or “I thought it had a weak ending” or “I really hated your lead character.”

I don’t mean to sound like a hypersenstive, delicate little flower but… why are you telling me these things? Why are you, my friend, telling me you don’t like my work, to my face, as though that is a helpful thing? I don’t expect that all my friends will like everything I do, but seriously, why do some friends feel the need to tell me they think my work sucks?

I’ve already had a handful of readers (with particular skills and viewpoints and a mandate to look for the flaws) provide critical feedback it before I submitted it to my publisher. My publisher has read it. So has my editor. Numerous times. Both have provided firm, unflinching but constructive feedback on how to polish it, picking up the continuity errors, plot holes and thin character development as we went. A team of other readers, including the proofreaders, have gone over it and hopefully caught all the errors (though, yes, sometimes we miss them).

So, you know, it’s been edited before publication. Once the thing is printed and sitting in its crisp, shiny cover, smelling of ink and new paper and potential, it’s too late to change anything. And if you don’t like the ending or the lead character, that’s really okay, but what is the purpose of telling me so? The reviewers will cheerfully tell me they don’t like my work, and I’m prepared to live with that, but why are my friends telling me? I, my editor, my publisher and a bunch of other people responsible for releasing the thing actually really liked the book and the ending and the characters, or we wouldn’t have released it.  I’m not going to rewrite it now. It’s finished. It’s published. It’s done.

Here’s the deal.

Writers:  Never ask your friends what they thought of your book. They may not care for it, and you don’t want to make either party uncomfortable by putting a friend on the spot and making them either lie or hurt yourfeelings with their brutal honesty. It’s needy and awkward, so do not do that to your friend or to yourself.

(By the same token, if you are sharing your manuscript pre-publication, ask for honest feedback. You don’t have to take it all on board, but this is when the honesty is essential.)

Friends of writers:  Feel free to tell your proud author friend that you enjoyed their book if you did. That’s nice, but it’s not essential. You can always say “I like the cover” if absolutely nothing else appealed. If you think the whole thing’s a wash, try “You must be so proud of your achievement.” But skip the part where you imply that your writer friend would have better spent that two (or more) years of their life learning shorthand and becoming a secretary, which would at least have been useful.

Offer your your support and a little kindness because, believe me, there have been times when this process has been really rough and the writer concerned has seriously considered that secretarial course.

To show your support, it’s ideal if you buy a copy of the book, even if you don’t read it (though it’s nice if you do). It’s great if you like it, but you’re not obliged to. Just like you’re not obliged to tell the author every defect, great and small, you think the book contains.

So please, if you love me, if you understand what hard and emotionally exhausting work this has been, oh please be kind. Suppress that need to tell me how flawed you think my book is*. And I promise not to tell you that you really can’t sing, that you’re a bad cook or that your children are ugly**.

Because that would be rude and tactless.

*Though actually, if you find formatting or typing errors in my e-books Witch Honour, Witch Faith, Fly by Night or Sacrifice, I’d like you to tell me about those, because those ones I can fix.

**These examples are not aimed specifically at any of my friends, just in case you think it’s you I mean. All of my friends are excellent cooks, sing like nightingales and have exquisitely behaved and beautiful children.

Self-publishing = vainglory?

Dymocks’ announcement of the launch of D Publishing Network is lighting up the newsgroups and Twitter at present. It’s at pains to state that the venture is not ‘vanity publishing’, the service will nevertheless allow writers to pay to have their books designed and uploaded, with the distant possibility that some books may be distributed via the Dymocks chain of bookstores.

I am not sure how this model is different from ‘vanity publishing’, but it will allow Dymocks to participate in the shift to authors self-publishing that is already very common on Smashwords and Amazon.com.

I myself have books on both Smashwords and Amazon.com. Each of the titles was previously published by small presses (Homosapien Books and Five Star Science Fiction) and are now out of print except for the digital imprints I’ve now released online. These books have been through the curation process of having a publisher select them from submissions and polished in collaboration with a professional editor.

So, like Dymocks, here am I distancing my own online efforts from that dreaded label, ‘vanity press’.

Cory Doctorow doesn’t seem to have this problem owning what he does. But of course, he was a professionally published author long before he experimented so successfully with the digital self-publishing route.

Why is it that readers automatically assume self-published means bad books? True, we’ve all read books that were published in this way that were at best full of typos and at worst full of badly plotted, badly written, self-indulgent purple prose. But then, I have read professionally published books that are just as guilty of poor structure and style, many of which I’ve abandoned by chapter five because I just don’t have the time to read books I’m not enjoying.

If someone creates jewellery that they then sell at markets (or on Etsy), we might be intrigued and praise the artist for their work. We might similarly encourage and support musicians who fund their own CD to sell while busking. Such efforts don’t have the sales reach of an official music publisher or art gallery to promote them, but we don’t disparage the efforts or talent of such entrepreneurial creativity.  The popularity of such work will soon be determined by those who see and buy things on the spot, and help the creators build up an audience of enthusiastic fans.

But try to write a book, publish it and sell it on a roadside stall (or online) and everyone will just assume it’s terrible. Admittedly, it’s harder to determine in a short period whether the book will be your cup of tea. A painting, a piece of jewellery and even a track from an album can be assessed in a pretty short period of time. Taking out fifteen minutes to read the first chapter or two of a budding new work is more time consuming and maybe less revealing to the casual purchaser.

But this is not far from how we select books (either digital or paper) in the bookshops. There, we may leaf through the first few pages to see how it strikes us. We also go by word of mouth or, in digital books, a free sample to download and try. Staff and friend recommendations and reviews give us an overview of what we might like to read. Surely this same model can apply to self-published books?

I am trying to train myself out of the old gut response that a self-published book is necessarily a bad book. I’ve been disappointed often enough with traditional titles, and every good book started as an unpublished manuscript at some point. The self-published titles on Smashwords, Amazon and, in future, D Publishing, will eventually be sorted into wheat and chaff by virtue of the same methods used for books with publishing houses: reviews and recommendations.

Nevertheless, authors taking this route can learn a lot by understanding and valuing the process that takes place in traditional publishing, where manuscripts are selected, curated and promoted by experts.

Many self-published books fail on a basic level because of the lack of editorial input and proofreading. I owe so much to my own proofreaders and editors for catching things that I have missed because I have just been looking at the damned thing for far too long. It’s not fresh to me any more, and I’m reading what I meant to say; not what I actually said.

Those fresh eyes, who are paid to be constructively critical rather than being friends, who are looking out for my delicate writerly feelings, are essential to helping me become a better writer, and to releasing books that are as good as I can make them at the time. Luckily, the publishing house takes on the economic responsibility of paying these fine people in the hopes that my books will sell well enough for them to recoup their costs.

My publishers have all been small presses, so while finding distribution channels can thankfully be left to them and their expertise, on the whole, promotions and marketing are left a lot to me. It’s hard work, and it’s time spent spruiking that I would rather spend writing, but I have to get word out somehow. Those recommendations and reviews don’t write themselves. (Well, some try via programs, but nobody’s falling for that.)

Doctorow recently pointed out in a Locus article that self-publishing and especially marketing books is much harder than it looks.

In the end, I think that self-publishing can work and be worthwhile, but the author needs to exercise professionalism. Self-publish by all means, but be professional and businesslike in your approach to the manuscript. If you don’t have a professional publisher to take on the costs of editing, find an independent editor to at least proofread your work. Value their input. Even if you don’t agree with it, don’t dismiss it out of hand. If they’ve missed the point of your prose, maybe you haven’t written that passage well enough.

Take the time to learn more about the craft of writing. Learn about grammar, spelling and structure. Read widely to see how others do it. Accept constructive criticism gracefully. Be painstaking and check your work. Consider your marketing approach, because publishing is absolutely not a case of ‘if you write it, they will come’.

Be like those artisan jewellery-makers, those struggling artists, those hungry musicians. Put everything you can into perfecting your craft. Help to get rid of the stigma of self-publishing by respecting everything that a publisher does for a writer and replicating it as much as you can.

Then, with luck and good timing, the readers will determine what happens in the market.

***

My thanks to Katherine Horsey, a fellow editor, who proofread this entry for me.

I will be presenting ‘Introduction to digital matters for writers’ at the Australian Society of Authors’ E-Exchange Day on 17 September 2011. Check out the ASA page for the details.

Bullying – how not to put up with it

Karen Healey, the author of the most excellent Guardian of the Dead, has posted recently about her experiences of bullying, and what we as individuals can do about it. I found it a moving piece, which reflected some of my own experiences as well.

Karen’s blog is always interesting, often funny, sometimes moving, always smart. You should read her blog, and her books, anyway. But this blog especially – if you’ve ever been bullied, if you’ve never been bullied but you’ve seen it, if you’re a parent or a teacher or a sibling or just an interested bystander. Maybe we can all take her excellent advice and make the world a little kinder and a little stronger.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 868 other followers