I’ve been working a lot lately on getting things published, which includes trying to find a publisher, or an agent to represent my work, or just someone who cares. I’ve had some success, as always, with poetry and short stories, but…
I want to get my novel published!
Okay, several novels, but things aren’t working out how I planned. I’m to the point that Charles Dickens found himself when no one would publish A Christmas Carol… okay, maybe not to that point, but it feels like it.
Traditional or Legacy Publishing versus Self- or Independent Publishing: To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?
I’m ready to take arms and oppose.
I grew up believing, earned my degrees and still believing, and even now believe that I should be traditionally published. It’s validating, right? Reality, however, is screaming that my only hope, especially considering what I write, is to become an “Indie” and self-publish (or find Obi Wan). Despite the likes of Beatrix Potter, Walt Whitman, Marcel Proust, Mark Twain, William Blake, Oscar Wilde, Virginia Woolf, and Charles Dickens all having done it, it makes my skin crawl.
Just close your eyes, they say. Let all your fears and common sense blow to the four winds. It’s useless to resist (or was that Resistance is Futile?). Just jump in with both feet and do it. Who cares if it ruins you (financially, mentally, and creatively)?
I find myself overwhelmed and dizzy, as if I’m a Lilliputian standing at the edge of a Yahoo sidewalk contemplating Jumping from the Curb into the gutter, into the maelstrom of self-do-everything, floating downstream into subterranean levels of damp stink, black cold, and obscene obscurity, with what little self-esteem I have left mingling and mating with sewer rats and abandoned alligators.
I think what really is holding me back is that “self-do-everything” part, which includes the two things that are always insisting on being on opposite ends of my life spectrum: time and money. When I have the time, I’m broke. When I have the money, I have no time. Then there are a few other minor things:
- Editing the manuscripts, manuscripts that have seen Alpha and Beta-readers and a lot of self-editing (and they still feel incomplete and imperfect)
- Establishing a publishing company, acquiring business licenses, figuring out taxes
- UPCs, EANs, ISBNs, ASINs, Copyright, LOC, to infinity and beyond
- Art, Covers, Backs, Spines, Interior matter, blah, blah, blah…
- Self-promotion, press materials, marketing, public relations, and an advertising campaign
- A website to showcase and sell, a blog to attract fans, distribution, social media, book signings, release parties, swag…
Working on all of this kind of sucks every molecule of creativity out of my body directly through pores that are only a half molecule in diameter. It hurts. I just wanted to write books, be creative, and stay in my comfort zone….
The first three self-do-everything covers for three previously published shorts I’m going to put out on Amazon for .99 cents each. Yes, I want similarities, and these will all be joining a future collection called – you guessed it – Haunted Tales (unless someone thinks of something better quick). The collection will include published and new work, as well as a professional cover, spine, back, front and back matter, etc. Your feedback is requested, welcome, and appreciated – thank you!