Post #98 – Women’s Memoirs, Book Business – Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler
By the Book
Or, How I Became My Own Publisher
By Susan Spangler
Author & Illustrator of The Year of the Bird
When I was a kid, there was a riddle that went, “When is a door not a door?” The punny answer was, “When it’s ajar.” A jar! Haha!
I remembered that recently, because I’ve been pondering the question of when, exactly, a book is… a book.
Real Books
When I was growing up, there was an easy answer to that question. It was not only, as it states on www.thefreedictionary.com, “A set of written, printed, or blank pages fastened along one side and encased between protective covers.” If you were defining “book” then, you’d also have added that it was published by a major publishing house located in New York or London, after having been accepted and promoted by an established literary agent. Not a “vanity” publisher. Oh my, no.
A real publisher is what made it a real book.
And that’s still the dream, isn’t it? For all of us, the working writers of the world. A book — a real book — with the word “by” preceding our name on the cover. The glossy dust cover, that is, with a thoughtful, yet saucy, head shot of us above a witty biographical blurb on the inside back flap. That’s the dream. Not the World Series. Not an Oscar or a Grammy or elected office. A book. A real book.
Changing Times
A lot has changed since I was a kid. Back then, we had dial phones, gas-guzzling cars, dress codes, smoking on airplanes, and no computers smaller than a medium-sized room. But it’s the 21st century now. The times, they have a-changed. And in a lot of ways, for the better.
Take, for example, books. Of course, we still have books printed by major publishers. But we also have e-books, i-books, audiobooks, blogs. And — drum roll — we now have Indie books: books we publish, promote and distribute ourselves.
Hmm. That sounds kind of familiar, doesn’t it? As in “vanity” publishers? You know, the companies that authors paid to print books that, presumably, didn’t measure up to “legitimate” publishers’ standards? Ouch! It hurts just to think of it!
So let’s not. Let’s, instead, turn our attention to this new category: independent publishing. Indie. I like it. Like Indie movies. Original, distinctive, edgy. I’m good with that category. But what does it mean? Really?
Discovering the Indies
These days, it’s so easy to look things up that it’s crazy not to. So I did. I found a great definition at http://book-promotion.blogspot.com, written by Bob Baker, an indie author. He makes indie into an anagram, with each letter signifying an attribute of the term. The first “I” is for Inspired; “N” is for Nontraditional; “D” is for Determined; the second “I” is for Innovative; and “E” is for Empowered.
He concludes with this summary sentence: “It has everything to do with how much you take control of your own life and take steps to build the kind of book career you deserve.” (If you’d like to read his whole article, here’s the link: ) I don’t think I’d go so far as calling this the book career I deserve. But it’s definitely the book career that the Indie movement has made possible for me to create.
Wikipedia defines Indies more simply. Indie books, it says, are “books published outside of mainstream publishing.” Okay. That covers a lot of ground. But it works, too.
Once upon a time, back in the last century, big movie studios ruled the cinematic world. They not only made the movies, they owned the theaters. The big recording companies owned the rights to music that musicians had created. Syndicates controlled the distribution of comic strips. And books? Well, we all know that story.
These days the whole world watches independent films. Musicians record and release their songs on their own computers. And underground comics started truckin’ way back in the sixties. Books have been the hold-out. The last to democratize.
New Possibilities
But our day has come. There are still gigantic movie studios, recording companies, and prestigious “mainstream” publishing houses. But now, we writers have alternatives.
And, honestly, if we didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here, writing this story right now. Because my book — The Year of the Bird: True Stories in Pictures & Words — would never have been published. Come on, you may say. How do you know that?
I’ll tell you how I know it. It’s because it’s got pictures. And it’s not a children’s book, a travelogue or a cookbook. It’s a book for grownups with color illustrations. And you know what that spells. That’s right: EXPENSIVE. As in: not sufficiently profitable for a publisher to produce, unless, of course, you’re already famous. Which I’m not. I could write query letters till the pens (or the ink cartridges) run dry. No publisher would ever say yes to my book.
Every writer has friends who have one — or more — unpublished novels in their drawers, gathering dust. Because no established agent or mainstream publisher ever said yes. And what’s the good of that? Is it really better not to publish at all than to publish the Indie way?
Obviously, there are many writers who feel that publishing outside the mainstream is a compromise they don’t want to make. I understand. My answer would not be “no” if Random House or HarperCollins showed up at my door. But I just checked. They’re not on the porch. And I’m not gonna live forever.
Book or No Book?
So. Book? Or no book? That is the question.
And, for me, given that choice, the answer is simple. Book.
Through a friend whose book I’d illustrated, I met a new Indie publisher who was willing to share the set-up costs of publishing my book. That meant that, even with all the color artwork, the expense for each of us was low.
My book was already complete. I’d finished the writing and illustrating. Over the course of a couple of years, I’d sent copies to several writer-friends, who’d generously read it, spotted typos, and offered helpful suggestions. In addition, when I signed with this publisher, he introduced me to a professional editor. Hiring her was an extra expense for me, but, I think, an essential one.
Because I’ve made my living as a graphic designer, I was able to format my book and create the print files myself. Graphic design was a service he offered at additional cost, and I was lucky not to have to pay it. We were ready to print.
This is when I discovered the concept of POD — print on demand. Unlike the large print runs ordered by conventional publishers, my publisher’s books were printed as needed: on demand. Listed online, on sites like amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com. And then printed, bound, and delivered as each copy was ordered. No big up-front investment, no overstocks, no buy-backs. When copies were sold, we shared the profits. And the product was beautiful.
Then, as luck would (or, more accurately, wouldn’t) have it, about six months after the book was published, my Indie guy joined the mainstream. He became a subsidiary of a larger publishing house and limited his focus to fiction.The Year of the Bird
Now what? Lucky for me, while I was writing and drawing and doing the dishes, the publishing world had been transforming itself. Sites like The Independent Author Network, The Alliance of Independent Authors, Virtual Writers, Inc., SheWrites Press, and Women’s Memoirs had sprung to life — for the express purpose of encouraging authors to take charge of their own publishing, and telling them how to do it. The individual imprint had been born.
Which meant — tada! — that any author could become his or her own publisher. Well. (gulp) Okay!
Because of my experience with my Indie guy, I had a fair idea of what was involved. I’d learned about CreateSpace and Lulu and Smashwords and other POD publishers. The Year of the Bird had been printed by Lightning Source, a company that prints books on demand for Ingram Content Group, a large POD publisher and major book distributor. Since I was familiar with them and the high quality of their product, that’s where I decided to set up my new account.
But first I needed a name. I must have come up with hundreds of possibilities. I narrowed them down to about fifty and googled each one of them, until I found one for whom no URL existed. I followed that by checking the trademark listings to see if it was already registered. Eureka! It was available. I became Little Known Stories.
Little Known Story
At this moment, the new edition of The Year of the Bird, under the imprint of Little Known Stories, is a few weeks from completion. Over the past several months, I’ve worked with a wonderful marketing team on search engine optimization and setting up my website to promote my book (a continuing learning experience). I tweet. I have an active Facebook author page. I’ve created ads on both Facebook and Google. I’ve learned a little about website analytics. I’ve done numerous radio interviews. I’ve written several guest blog posts.
That all adds up to a lot of time and a fair amount of money. And the end is nowhere in sight. I’ve probably spent way more on this book than I’ll ever make back. But don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that you can’t make money in the Indie book biz. I know that many people have. And you might, too! The journey is different for each traveler.
For my journey, I’ve had to learn a whole new way of looking at things — and travel miles beyond my comfort zone. As of now, I’m on no bestseller lists. The only household where I’m a name is my own. Okay, my family and friends know me, too. But you get my point.
Which is this: I have a book. Yes! A real book that I can hold in my hands. A book that readers can buy. As Bob Baker would put it, I was Inspired, Non-traditional, Determined, Innovative and Empowered. Yes, I am Empowered. By the potential. By the process.
By the book.
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