The fourth in a series of five blog posts by Julia Johnston (author of If Everyone Knew Every Plant And Tree) charting her journey from preparing to submit her manuscript to agents, through to the self-publishing of her debut novel.
This week: she explains her decision to self-publish her novel.
Dazed and confused by the keen interest/no-interest-at-all-anymore from two lovely successful literary agents, I braced myself for the writing of another batch of begging letters. I braced myself, too, for the year or more of waiting. I’m on a merry-go-round, up and down, round and round, going nowhere fast (well, slowly I suppose).
Out of nowhere, blogs, articles and podcasts oozed information, advice, and real-life experiences on self-publishing; you couldn’t move for them. I see now it was the zeitgeist phenomenon in action. Perhaps I needed to think seriously about it? “Why don’t you self-publish?” I kept hearing. Easier said than done, I thought, and wasn’t that for rubbish writers, anyway, who weren’t good enough to take the ‘proper route’? Or was that ‘Vanity Publishing’? And did any of it matter?
Yes, it turned out, it did matter.
‘Making the decision: should you self-publish?’ The words sprung themselves at me from an uncannily timely Writers & Artists email. Are you convinced by your book, but couldn’t convince a traditional publisher? Would you like to have control over how it is published? Are you committed to making it work? Aye aye—I liked the sound of this. All a bit scary, but could this be the very thing?
The London conference was entitled ‘Self-publishing in the Digital Age’. It was to offer insight and advice for every critical step of the self-publishing route and delegates were invited to submit their book blurb too, with the chance of winning a publishing package. The day was going to be just the ticket; it was to cover five main areas:
- choosing a provider and distribution route
- editing your manuscript
- surfing the tsunami of content to bring your book to the top
- building a social media platform
- engaging your readers and building book buzz
Oh, and it was to be followed by networking drinkies!
Post-conference and aforementioned beverages, my head was swimming from the sea of knowledge I’d lapped up that day in December 2012; I had copious notes and stacks to follow up, but the key attraction was that it all made perfect sense and it seemed all doable. The begging letters could cower in my cupboard for now. I’m at the end of the ghost train ride, wondering what all the fuss was about, ready to enter a new bright domain—ready to self-publish! But who to go with? And how much could I afford?
A week later, I was about to press the goodbye button on a spam-looking email, beginning as it did with the trick word, ‘Congratulations!’ but, would you believe it, I’d only gone and won the blinkin’ blurb competition?! I’m on one of those rides that shoot you straight up in the air and hovers you in ecstasy awhile. It was judged by the editor of Writers' and Artists' Yearbook, Alysoun Owen. My first novel, If Everyone Knew Every Plant And Tree, was to be published by Amazon’s Createspace, and the prize package included a professional cover design and edit. The novel was to be on sale via Amazon and through American bookshops as a paperback within a month, and would be available on Kindle three weeks after that.
It ended up taking nigh on a year before the book was out… more on that in the next post.
A bit weird that my book was buyable through bookshops in the US, but not here. My hope was that, if it did/does well, there might be a possibility of being picked up by a traditional publisher; some refer to Amazon as the 'annotated slushpile'. But I don’t know about that any more—whether I want that, I mean. Through joining ALLi (Alliance of Independent Authors), I realize there is much priceless advice, support and know-how for indie authors to freely tap into. For the moment, I’m embracing the conviction that anything’s possible. At least my novel is no longer hostage on a hard-drive, and can be acquired by anyone who cares to read it.
On this bookshop malarkey, I am totally aware of the unrelationship between book stores and Amazon, but it still surprised me that my local (award-winning) bookshop was positively nauseated by the idea of stocking my tainted tome. I had thought the whole 'local writer wins international competition to have book published' angle might swing it for me, since it sits comfortably with other local news items such as, 'Man sets fire to tree stump', ‘Dolphin comes to play’ and ‘Boy’s pocket money stolen’, but it seemed not.
I reckon they ought to let little old me have my book displayed in the window/back shelf/toilet; makes me feel like I’m still not classed as a proper author to be refused inclusion. I am not for the demise of bookshops in any shape or form, but there’s a place for everyone in this new era of publishing. I think we would all do well to wise up to that. My book might have even dragged a few more punters through the door! But, hey, I no make de rules...
And as for securing a literary agent... it's on hold for the time being while I bask in the certainty that at least a few respected writing people have endorsed my book (yes—I can finally say 'book' without feeling like a fraud!)
Writing tips:
TIP 1
Self-publish if you are convinced about your work, but can’t convince a literary agent or publisher.
TIP 2
Self-publish if you would like to have control over how your book is published—editing, interior design, cover design, price, blurb…
TIP 3
Self-publish if you have the time and motivation to make it work.
Some suggested reading:
Choosing a Self-Publishing Service is a thorough, intelligent guide from The Alliance of Independent Authors, which will be updated regularly, available as it is in eBook form, pdf and epub. The guide will take you through each area of consideration and will save you months of research.
www.thecreativepenn.com is a highly recommended website. There’s not much the ubiquitous and brilliant Joanna Penn doesn’t know about self-publishing…!
Find out more about Julia on her website and follow her on Twitter. Find out more about her debut novel here. You can also find her on Goodreads.
Hi Julia, many thanks for your kind words. With Confessions of a Mask, it resonated with me on a deep level and challenged me to question my view of the world. When I first read it back in 1977, it was actually quite an uncomfortably read as it dealt with subjects which probably seem quite common-place now but were not so back then. Strange how over the years it has become, as you say, almost a comfort blanket for me as it represents a simpler time in my life.
I also found inspiration a few years ago with a self-help book by Julia Cameron called The Artist's Way. It was given to me by a friend's wife (who was a publications manager at MacMillan's) while on holiday in the south of France. I was mesmerised by the content of the book and it helped rekindle my love of writing. Another book, The Writer's Journey by Christopher Vogler, helped me plan the first draft of my Children's book. So while my heart leans toward challenging literature, my head loves the practical nature of self-help and reference books. I will take up your kind offer of 'off-topic' discussions via your website.
Very best regards
Mark
Wow, a lot to take in here, Mark! All fascinating. Sorry I only just saw this post as there are no alerts set up that a comment's come through. I love your line, ' ...the only limiting factor was the distance my dreams were prepared to journey.' I find those words quite inspirational. I will look up the writer(s) you mention here. The idea of an old favourite book representing a sort of comfort blanket tickles me - I wish I had such a book. I do go back to certain books, but I wouldn't mention them as they're not typical of the kind of literature I generally read... okay, I'll mention one - 'The Power is Within You' by Louise Hay. Some of it is very American if you get my drift, but there was enough there to affect me quite dramatically. I suppose it's hardly 'literature' in the true sense, but what does that mean anyway? Most people scoff at 'self-help' books, I realise. In a way, your Mishima novel acted as one...
We do seem to have gone pretty drastically off topic here, so do contact me through my website/email if you'd like to communicate further 'off-topic'!
Strangely enough, my favourite book is actually by a Japanese author. It's Confessions of a Mask by Yukio Mishima.
I first discovered my love of Mishima and Japanese literature in my teenage years. It was the late seventies and I had left London to start a new life in one of the overspill towns that had grown up around the capital.
Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, I'd started working in the book department of W H Smiths in Basingstoke. My introduction to Japanese literature was due to a book industry practice at the time that enabled a bookseller to return just the covers of unsold paperback books back to a publisher in order to get their account credited. The coverless book could then be left in the staff room to be read or taken home by employees.
One day, while having a tea break at work, I spotted one of coverless books in the staff room which took my interest. It was entitled Confessions of a Mask and it was written by the Japanese author Yukio Mishima. My reading tastes up to that point had been Science Fiction novels, but I was sufficiently intrigued by the title of the book, and the fact that I had never read anything by a foreign writer before, to start reading it during my mid-morning tea break. I continued to read it during my afternoon break and then even on my two mile walk back home after work.
I enjoyed Mishima's particular writing style. His heavily descriptive approach to his subject matter and his ability to capture the minutest detail left an deep impression on me.
It's clear from the biographies I've since read about Yukio Mishima that he was no angel and his politics were extremely suspect. As a protest against what he perceived to be an increasing Americanisation of Japan and a ongoing lack of respect towards the Emperor, he ended his life by Hari-Kiri, a suicide ritual involving disembowelment followed by beheading. It was 1970 and Mishima was forty five years old.
Although many years have passed since I first read it, I still enjoy Confessions of a Mask and will re-read it every year to remind myself of what I enjoy about Mishima's style and Japanese literature in general. Over the years I have supplemented Mishima's writings with the discovery of other Japanese authors, Yasunari Kawabata, Junichiro Tanzinaki, Shusaku Endo, Natsume Soseki, and Jiro Osaragi, and while I enjoy and appreciate all of these writers I still find myself drifting back to my first love Mishima.
It's hard to define what it is about Japanese authors that I enjoy so much, but I believe certain cultures strike a chord within us that will sometimes defy rational explanation.
With regard to Mishima, I believe it is the quality of his writing and the beauty of his word usage that keeps me enthralled, but another factor is the sense of nostalgia that I feel when reading Confessions of a Mask. It enables me to return to a time in my late teens when I first discovered my passion for the written word.
The bond between me and things oriental has endured through all of the various changes that have occurred in my life, including marriage breakdowns, estrangement from my family, job losses, the loss of friends, and occasionally a loss of self. Yet it only takes picking up my tattered copy of Confessions of a Mask and within a few pages I have returned to a simpler time in my life. A time when the world appeared new and exciting and the only limiting factor was the distance my dreams were prepared to journey.
And so a few years ago, I decided to realise my long term ambition and undertake a journey to Japan. I'll admit I was concerned that I might be disappointed with the reported over-commercialisation of a culture that had previously been so rich in tradition and diversity. But I needn't have worried, because it only took an early morning wander around the back streets of Tokyo, far away from the steel and concrete high-rise buildings, to make me realise that the post war Tokyo of Mishima's novels was still there. I believe that if you scratch the surface of any modern city, you will find the roots of its past waiting to be discovered by the astute wanderer.
At its heart, Confessions of a Mask is a story of self-discovery and although it is essentially a sad story it is not self-pitying. It is a story told in a brutally honest way - an honesty that I believe Mishima aspired to even in death.