The Rubicon was crossed. I’d committed to publishing the novel. Ratio of euphoric to paranoid/neurotic/panic moments? Oh, about 1:1000.
A second circumcision
The Rubicon was crossed. I’d committed to publishing the novel. Ratio of euphoric to paranoid/neurotic/panic moments? Oh, about 1:1000.
Negotiating the contract was relatively straightforward. The publisher had a template and we haggled over the splits of the many potential revenue streams. It’s one of the beguiling facets of this business that, although the contract focused on imminent printed and e-books, it nevertheless also had to cater for the more outlandish hopes for a work of fiction – dramatisation rights, movie options, even a buy-out of the contract itself by a large publisher (most definitely not a hint to Bloomsbury).
With goodwill on both sides, this wasn’t too difficult. Of course, the absence of an agent was something of an exposure but, in the end, I proceeded on the basis that a smaller percentage of something is better than 100% of nothing. APP has a number of publishing options but, gratifyingly, they had such faith in ‘Grosse Fugue’ that the only commitment they required from me was to invest heavily in their marketing plan – not cash, but that rather more precious commodity: self.
And then the editing began. Not for nothing did I choose this particular title. Because that’s how it felt. The book has been reduced by almost 10%, some of it writing that I felt was among the best I’d done (not that this is any way to judge it). I write this through gritted fingertips but the vast majority of what the publisher and her editor said has improved the book, of that I have little doubt. The process has been excruciating, even though the end result is more than adequate compensation. It also identified some errors of fact, such as place names that I’d mistyped and areas where the historical research was not as spot-on as it needed to be.
Losing my original ending (back to the title of this blog again – sorry!), was particularly uncomfortable as I’d lavished a wholly disproportionate amount of writing time on creating a testament discovered after my protagonist had died. I had to concede that the novel now has a far more satisfying ending but there was plenty of wailing and blood, I can assure you.
Editing is so critical and so difficult that, with everyone’s permission, I’ll write about it some more next time.
Ian Phillips is a freelance writer for businesses whose first novel, Grosse Fugue, will be published by Alliance Publishing Press on April 11th. He’s tweeting developments @Ian_at_theWord.
Good question, Christina. Ideally, an agent would have been there, between the publisher and me, no doubt of that. Against that, any revenue would be reduced by their cut, of course, and - because I have a legal background - the convoluted terminology held no fears for me. Could I have done a better deal? Possibly. Do I beat myself up about it? Not for an instant.
I think the deal is fair for both APP and me. If it's successful in terms of copies sold, we both make money. That's enough for me and, if that is the case, I might negotiate harder for the 2nd book!
It all sounds incredibly painful just reading the title Ian and I have to admit the thought of having to go through it makes me shiver even though I realise it is a necessity to do it for the greater good of the book. When it came to the haggling once you got started did you ever think that you would have preferred to have an agent there? Maybe it is the world of constant nervousness and worry that I live in that I would make a whole dose of mistakes and not get the full benefits that I may get if I had an agent.