Michael Jecks's Blog, page 33

End of the Series? Or Just a Pause?

 

The new book cover – nice one, Simon & Schuster!

This blog piece was prompted by an email I received this afternoon.

The message was from someone who wanted to let me know how sad they were to hear the news that Baldwin and Simon’s series was to end. I know this has affected a lot of readers, so I thought it would be a good idea to explain the situation.

First, please understand that no author wants to upset his or her readers. Equally, for me to kill off Baldwin and Simon would be like murdering my own friends. I didn’t only create these two, I have lived with them intensively for the last twenty years (ye Gods! It’s really that long!) – they are old friends of mine.

However, the sad fact is that I have to live in modern world. There are commercial realities that impinge on an author’s life.

In the last few years, the sales of my books have declined. My last publisher never had a marketing budget for my books. They were allowed to go into the world and sink or swim, basically surviving because of my efforts.

That is why my new publisher suggested changing tack slightly. It is clearly impossible for a publisher to keep on paying for authors whose books are not earning back their money. This isn’t a difficult angle to understand. Publishers are in business to make money.

Some years ago it became clear to me that Headline, my original publishers, had lost interest in the series, and stopped marketing or promoting the books. Because of that I was forced to consider radical changes.

My first idea was, to look at writing a different style of novel, or perhaps change genre. Various concepts were put forward by me, but Headline really didn’t want to have me change. They wanted more of the Templar series. But they wouldn’t advertise or market my books, so clearly sales wouldn’t grow. Which meant my income wouldn’t either. After some months of horrible negotiation, I finally had to bite the bullet and move to Simon and Schuster.

Lots of lovely books!

And – deep breath – it’s been a fantastic move. Suddenly I have marketing, publicity, sales and social marketing support. My new editor is an enthusiastic supporter, and the whole team is fully behind my books. I haven’t had such wonderful backing for many years.

But, and it is a large “but”, no publisher has a chequebook held constantly open. Normally they snap shut like a Venus Flytrap when an author walks into a room. Authors like me have to keep our feet on the ground and accept that sometimes a change of direction can be worthwhile creatively as well as financially.

It was for that reason that I wrote Act of Vengeance and slipped it out as an ebook last year. It’s a modern spy book, and on Kindle it is selling really well. And now, for a similar reason, I’m working on alternatives to the Templar Series.

Ebook only for now. But I can hope!

The next book, Fields of Blood, is a new take on the men who participated in the Crécy campaign. I have taken a small body of men and looked at them, their problems, their fights and their fears leading up to the battle. And there was a lot to consider in there, believe me.

For the future, I will work with two of the characters from this book, and use them to consider later battles in the Hundred Years War campaigns, and in the fighting with the Free Companies afterwards. There are three strong books already planned.

This doesn’t mean I won’t write another Baldwin and Puttock book. It doesn’t mean Simon and Schuster want to kill it off either.

In fact, Simon and Schuster have already republished the first six of the series in their own brilliant covers. They have bought the rights for the next seven books, and as I speak, they are trying to persuade Headline to give up the rights to the remainder of the series. Sadly, Headline are being inflexible, which means that I’ll have to fight for each title, I expect, before I can rescue them from the horrible limbo in which they now exist.

The reason is simple. Although Headline paid tiny advances to me, and although each of the books has fully earned out, paying back both the initial advances with big profits to Headline, a publisher’s assets are only what it possesses in terms of titles.

If another publisher wanted to buy Headline, the value of Headline would lie in the books for which it owned rights. Without them, the publisher’s value lies in a number of desks and phones. Which isn’t much.

That is why Headline is being very difficult about letting us take back the rest of the rights. They did suggest that they’d let me have the rights back for a silly sum – £100,000. That is more than they paid me in advances for my first fifteen books – which means at least double the profits they made from me and my books in those first eight years or so. Which is plain daft – and it changes nothing. The rights will come back and Simon and Schuster will have the whole list.

However, you aren’t interested in the old titles. You want to know what will happen with new books, don’t you?

Well, put it like this: if the republished titles sell well, and Simon and Schuster starts to make good money from the series, Simon and Schuster will want more in that series. If they can see cash flowing into their coffers, they will commission more in the series to keep that money coming in.

Therefore, if you want to see future books in the series, there are ways you can help.

The first thing is, to recommend my books to all your friends. If you know people who are keen on crime books, people who are keen on historical novels, who are keen on the Templars, or who just like a good, entertaining read: tell them about Baldwin and Simon. Put a comment up about them on your Facebook page, or on Twitter or any other social media you like. If you can, go and put positive reviews up on Goodreads and Amazon. These things really do help – and help much more than an author’s wittering about his efforts. Benjamin Disraeli once said, “An author who speaks about his own books is almost as bad as a mother who talks about her own children”.

Harsh, but fair: he was a popular novelist, as well as Prime Minister of Britain during the British Empire.

Simon and Schuster have proved they’re serious about the series.

There is something else you can not do. Do not recycle! If you give the books away, or sell them, that takes money out of Simon and Schuster’s (and my) pocket. We earn nothing from resales of our work. Also, if you buy from a second-hand shop, that hurts us too. Publishers cannot survive if their books are sold through charity shops, second hand stores and exchanged in markets. Publishers and authors depend entirely upon new sales for their survival.

So, sad though it may sound, if you aren’t going to want to keep the books on your shelves, then send them off to be recycled properly.

Yes, I know people are enduring hard times. I know that looking for a bargain is uppermost in most of our minds. But if you can, buy new: you will be supporting authors, publishers and bookshops. And we all want to do that.

With a little luck, if you can help tell people about my books (and other authors’ books you really love), you will help the trade.

More specifically, if you promote mine, it may well lead to increased interest from Simon and Schuster, which may lead to their commissioning more Templar series stories.

It’s also possible that I could write some more books and put them out as ebooks, of course. But it is a lot more effort to write and self-promote that way. For me, to be able to sit at my desk and write is much more appealing.

And it means you get more books to read, of course.

Happy Reading!

Tagged: author, books, crime writing, ebooks, publishing, republishing, Templar series, writing

A Literary Heavyweight

It was about ten years ago we stretched ourselves and bought this house. And, I have to say, it’s been a good place for us.

A hundred years ago it was put up as a purpose-built home and shop. The main building is rather like a pair of semis, because there are two front doors. On the left is the big front door, on the right the entrance to the shop itself. For those of an historical bent, it was a butcher’s, and my delightful little brewery shed behind was the slaughterhouse. Ideal for a man contemplating murder, naturally.

I publish books. Then I get given copies. These are the hardbacks.

But there was a lot of work to be done when we moved in. First we had to replace the kitchen floor where the damp had got to it. The raised floor collapsed (we moved a fridge onto it, and it fell through the floorboards). Next, when the kitchen was done (i.e. hygienic), we attacked the sitting-room. I wanted that done before I went to that year’s Bouchercon. This room was a little different, because it was put up in the 1970s or so as an extension. It’s huge (25 feet by 12 or so), a single storey addition thrown up because the owner had a full-size snooker table and was determined to use it.

However, by the time we arrived, we had plans for it. We took down part of a south-facing wall and put in French windows; the antiquated (i.e. bodged) electrics were ripped out and replaced with modern ones that made use of hi-tech cabling; and a result of that was a really very good sound system and TV. Yup, we were very happy.

But then our world fell about us. Nearly.

We were out one day, and when we returned, my daughter asked to watch TV. To keep her quiet while we prepared supper, we agreed. And she wandered in, sat down, and burst into tears.

The ceiling had dropped two inches, and she thought it was about to fall on her head. Actually so did we, as we (very calmly and quietly) coaxed her from the room.

So what had happened?

Life is not all hardback editions! Here are the paperbacks. Some in two editions now.

It’s my fault, actually. You see I didn’t get a surveyor to check the place out. If I had, I’d have learned that the guy who had owned the house was a bit of a jobbing builder. He didn’t want to go to the effort of knocking holes in a granite wall to support the joists, so he had them run north-south instead.

It would have been better if he’d been a little more structural, perhaps. Full-length timbers to reach across that space would have been better than the half-length ones he used, which he nailed together to extend them. Oh, and if he’d had time, he should have had the ends resting on the walls, rather than on the plasterboard panels. But that wasn’t the real problem.

It was me.

I’ve published more than 30 books. Yes. Since I’m an author and can’t afford a social life, I find I spend a lot of time sitting in front of a computer.

Anyway, all these books have hardback and paperback editions. Many are published in, oh, German, Dutch, French, Greek, American – you name it. And all these delightful publishers send me copies of their editions. The Americans made an error and sent me double quantities of the first three titles. Isn’t that nice? And the Spanish changed the cover three times, so I have several copies of those titles.

A selection of foreign titles.

And I never even thought about it. Well, you don’t, do you? You just pick up the latest parcel, box them up, and store them somewhere safe and dry, grumbling about the weight.

Now, my house used to have four streams passing underneath it. That was what the diviner said, and the JCB confirmed it. So dry storage has always been rather at a premium. The best place to store books is clearly… Yup, you’re ahead of me. They all went into the loft space.

The loss-adjuster agreed that the collapse was an accident. Clearly it was, because my inability to consider the weight of 30 titles with at least 20 copies of each in each edition is an accident of birth.

So if you are like me and put your faith in the strength of your attic’s beams, just take a word of advice. Get the damn books down now. As an afterthought, perhaps this is one advantage of ebooks?

Anthologies and short stories

A Day in London – OR – A Travelling Author Muses

 

An excellent evening last night. In fact, a wonderful day.

I was going up to see the guys at Goldsboro Books in Cecil Court, London. They always do a huge amount for new writers and for collectors. If you ever want a signed first edition of any title, they are, really, the only place to go now.

Empty Cecil Court in the afternoon!

Signing books with them is always good fun. Yesterday, apart from the fact that I was able to meet Mia for the first time, it was good to scrawl my name in all the massive towers of books on the desk. If I’d thought, I’d have kept all of them on the desk so I could take a photo – but I’m an author, not a marketing expert! Mia, meanwhile, was bored. She made this plain by eating the handle on the chair.

Goldsboro’s Pile of Books!

Mia is a Border Terrier. Pavla was the assistant helping me sign.

Anyway, in the evening (after a delightful lunch with Paul, the superstar agent, and then tea with Blakey, the superstar company chairman of The Edge in Covent Garden, followed by an even more delicious couple of pints of Tribute in the pub round the corner with David Hewson, one of my favourite authors) I was back at Goldsboro.

Wine, if no women or song, was the order of the day. And I had a great time, even though it was a little hard in places, especially when chatting about the market.

There are more mergers coming, you see.

Apparently the Penguin/Macmillan mix will soon get stirred. But also, it’s said that HarperCollins and Simon and Schuster are having talks.

Now generally, you need large multinationals to achieve cost benefits and keep the prices to consumers down. I know that. But the problem here is, as the big firms merge, they lose sight of the ball. We’re heading towards four main publishers. With only one retailer on the high street, effectively, and one main retailer on the internet (who can compete although, stone me, Amazon doesn’t make profit from all its UK sales, and therefore pays no taxes), the publishers are being throttled.

However, they’re losing their authors because of this. In the past, publishers would take on new authors and hand-hold them. They’d help them through their first years. OK, my publisher didn’t: Headline seemed always to have a business model that was based on sink or swim. There was no marketing or PR behind new writers, and those who didn’t achieve any sales (usually on the back of their own marketing efforts) were dropped after a few years. I saw so many talented, good writers disappear in my first few years.

However, good publishers nurtured their new talents and helped them develop until, sometimes after a long time (like Ian Rankin, for example), they hit the mark and suddenly because top sellers.

In the past, publishers would wander out and sign ludicrous deals for politicians’ and sportmen’s and women’s biographies. They rarely earned out. Tales of half million pound cheques for books that sold in the few thousands are not uncommon. And all that money paid to those politicians and others was actually earned from the mid-list authors, the run-of-the-mill authors, who regularly wrote good books that sold pretty well, in the fifty thousand plus bands, and earned fair money.

Party time Cecil Court

But now, those geese have been culled, and their golden eggs are no longer being laid. Whereas publishers could depend upon a wide range of authors, now they depend upon an ever-more dwindling number. Once Collins had more than thirty crime authors writing for them. Now, HarperCollins in total has fewer than twenty. All authors have to demonstrate that they’re in the top few in order to keep their contracts.

Of course the good side to this is, that the largest publishers will simply leach their talented authors out into the indie market. Smaller publishers are springing up, and they will take on many of the writers and soon you’ll see a resurgence in publishing – hopefully, anyway.

Because one thing is certain. As you have ever larger publishing houses, with ever fewer authors, providing a smaller number of new titles each year, it will only take one or two poor business decisions by senior editors to wreck the publishers.

If all your goose eggs, assiduously collected over the decades, have one stone dropped on top of them, even the golden ones will get dented.

Nice metaphor, eh?

The lovely Ayo from Shots Ezine – who buttonholed me for some work … More later

Tagged: authors, books, crime writing, Goldsboro Books, party, publishing, writing

Gardening – and Cats

There are times when writing is a sheer dream. Other times, of course, it isn’t.

Today I set out with the best of intentions. I managed to subdue the work displacement activities that immediately sprang to mind, and got on with work. Off, first thing, with the dog to keep her quiet while I worked, and then back home to see … that the house next door has a severe case of gardeners.

Now I can understand the joys of gardening. I’ve been trying to get into my own vegetable patch at regular intervals. In fact, I’ll be out there again later today, mainly with a view to spreading Agent Orange on all those places where some green is actually showing (and shouldn’t be). My garden is a haven. Mostly for birds, shrews, mice, voles, and cats.

Cats.

I rather like cats. I always have. They are delightful little furry creatures, when they aren’t crazed, vicious monsters with nails like razors. We used to have a cat: Wallis. He was gorgeous. We moved him from the city into the country when he was ten years old or so, and he was freaked out by the – well, the space, I guess. His proudest moment was trying to bring a buck rabbit almost his own size in through his cat flap.

Sadly, he died a while after that. A feral cat arrived in the area. Over several evenings, it entered our cat door, beat up Wallis and ate his food. We didn’t realise what was happening, until one day it attacked poor old Wallis and left him to die in our garden. A few nights later it got into our neighbour’s house and almost killed his one-year-old kitten, going for my neighbour when he tried to get it away. In the end, after taking police advice, we had to shoot the thing.

Still, I prefer to remember Wallis rather than the feral brute.

But, and it’s a big but, I do dislike intensely all those other cats in the neighbourhood that like to use other people’s gardens as toilets. There is one that gets into my garden every night and does what cats do in a neighbour’s vegetable patch. When my daughter was very young, she was keen on learning about plants and gardening, right up to the moment she was playing in the soil I’d dug over the day before, and found something she shouldn’t have. That rather put her off.

A while after that, I built a play area for the children. It was great, with a massive climbing frame, a safe wall all around, and thick layer of rubber from shredded car tyres in case they fell.

Within a couple of days, the rubber was infested with little catty lumps.

The cure for cats in the vegetable garden?

I am always hearing people complain about dogs defecating in the street. Yes, dogs do so occasionally, and yes, some

owners don’t clear up after them. However, cat owners never come and tidy my garden after their blasted pets. So, generally, I get grumpy in the extreme about cats – and especially cat owners complaining about dogs. I loved Wallis, but I detest other people’s cats in my garden.

Perhaps it’s time cats were licensed. There are too many for the good of small animals and birds, apart from anything else. And when it comes to hygiene …

Anyway, so I can understand the need for gardening. However, when I’m trying to work, the sound of chainsaws, power hedge-cutters, ploughs and other powertools of various sizes and loudness, is not conducive to work.

Dogs Good. Cats …

That being the case, I got back to work displacement activities with a vengeance.

I’ve been thinking for a long time about getting a new phone. This old HTC has done valiant service over the years, but it’s a bit past it now after 24 months. I could keep it on a reduced contract, but something a little newer appeals. So I’ve spent a good hour on the phone to save myself spending too much. However, the two phones I want, the HTC One (beautiful) and the Sony Xperia Z (waterproof – look, I live in Dartmoor, OK?) are just a little out of my league. The money is too much for me to justify. So I’ve gone for the slightly lower-specced Xperia SP. Hopefully it’ll do at least as much as the old phone, but the battery will last a damn sight better!

For the last week I’ve been working hard on ideas for the Medieval Murderers book – the tenth anniversary edition. It’s not been too easy (which is true for all short stories and novellas, in my experience), but it’s finally coming together today. I’m beginning to see how the story might develop.

At the same time, I’m mulling over book two in my Hundred Years War series. I have two possible kick-off points, and just now I’m not certain which way to jump with them. It’s a source of mild irritation to me, but I’ll get over it. I think what I may have to do is write an initial beginning around half-way through the story, and see where it goes from there.

Meanwhile I have a set of talks to give. From a delightful after-dinner to editors (I’ll be cautious with that one), to an evening on 6th November with Tom Vowler with the Plymouth Book Festival. They’ve just picked my latest, TEMPLAR’S ACRE, as their book of the month, so I like these guys a great deal! I’ve had confirmation that I’ve a stand at the Chagford Show this year, which is the third Thursday in August, and at the Dartmoor Folk Festival, which will be the weekend before. Both will be great fun – although I think there’ll be more beer at the Dartmoor show!

One of the key joys of Morris Dancing!

And now I’m getting myself ready to go up to London on Thursday. A full day of wandering the streets and trying to sign copies of my books in all the Waterstone’s I can find, ending up in the wonderful Goldsboro Books in Cecil Court. If you’re in London on Thursday, I’ll hope to see you there!

Tagged: author, Cats, crime writing, Dartmoor, phones, projects, writing

A New Diary

A short blog today – there is far too much on for me to spend too much time here.

I have, over the years, tried out a load of different types of planner and diary. In between writing a novel or two, you understand.

Just the novels. I’ve not included all the foreign ones!

Many years ago, I was determined to keep a diary so I would be able to look back in my white-haired dotage and peer with vague stirrings of memory at my writing and recall ancient emotions. I bought a five year journal, and almost kept up with it for one year.

The trouble is, I’ve never been disciplined enough to keep scribbling about my own life. It just doesn’t work like that for me.

However, when I was in business, I was introduced to a number of new systems to make life easier.

Yes, I started out with a rubbish series of annual diaries (each pathetically designed and printed on terrible, cheap paper). Then, one day in Bentall’s Department Store in Kingston-upon-Thames, where I worked at the time (Wordplex, Greencoat House), I discovered the absolute joy of the French diaries made by Quo Vadis.

At last I had a diary I could use as a salesman. It was designed for people like me. Good, sequential time slots for meetings, I could plan the time to get to each meeting, and each week had a notes section, forward planning, things to do, and a little tear-off corner so that getting to the current week was a doddle. I loved those diaries. I bought several while I was in Kingston.

But we change. When I moved to Wang it wasn’t so easy to find the Quo Vadis diaries. And Wang Labs being the forward-thinking firm it was, there were diaries set up on the computers. Wonderful. I started goin electronic … lost meetings, forgot where I was meant to be, and bought a cheap Collins diary again.

Which was what I stayed with. I tried Filofax. I tried a number of different systems, but always fell down because if there was one thing I was dreadful at, it was duplicating all the tasks from an annual plan to a weekly plan to a daily action sheet. I hate duplication – always have. But I dislike electronics for diaries.

I did have a lot of fun with Day Runner. That was like a Filofax, but when I used it originally, it was a tiny less-than-A5 leather book, and gradually I got the full A5 and then the A4. It was lovely, and I used them until the fateful day, in my 13th year as a salesman, when I lost my 13th job. (I hasten to add that for ten years I had two jobs: 5 years Wordplex, then 5 years at Wang – but then the recession hit, and every firm went bust.)

Suddenly, I didn’t have a need for a diary. If I was going to London, it was for a meeting with my editor. And since that happened once a year, roughly, I didn’t need to diarise (yes, I hate that word too – why did I use it?) events much.

But gradually, over the years, the planning and needs for a diary have grown. I’ve been called to give talks at libraries, called to work on panels in festivals and conventions, been called to travel to Italy or Idaho, been asked to work with other authors arranging workshops, or – now – working with students in Exeter University and helping them with their writing.

And this means more careful planning again. I have to use my time effectively.

Which brings me to Chronodex by Scription, and Patrick Ng.

Chronodex – I use stickers to put into my Midori Traveller’s Notebook.

Some time ago, while looking over the Fountain Pen Network’s wonderful pages (I’m a sad old git, I know), I found Chronodex reviewed. It sounded weird and really rather daft, but I looked at it, got hooked, and started playing with it.

It’s a simple idea. It assumes that not everyone thinks sequentially. This is very true of creative-types like me. I don’t like a series of sequential blocks running down or along a page. It looks daunting and odd. Mainly because my time slots aren’t equal. My 8-9.00 slots are narrower and less usable than my 9-10.00 and later. Sounds silly? Yes, it is. But my mind functions better later. An equal spacing doesn’t work for me.

But a circle of time does. It just looks right somehow.

Chronodex works on the basis that it’s an analogue clock design. You start at the 12 o’clock at the top, and then there is the 3.00 to the right, the 6.00 at the bottom, and 9.00 on the left. Simple enough. And works for  a 12 hour period, obviously.

No. Because we never use an entire 24 hour clock for our working days, do we? We function hardest over about an eight hour working cycle, with much of the day set to travel or rest periods. So the great thing about Chronodex is, it actually starts with a little inner ring before 6.00 a.m., and then from 9-21.00 it is working through the day. After 9.00 p.m., there is space for essential social time as well.

I know, I have explained it a little poorly, but the main thing is, it just works. You pick the period of the day you want, and block it out, adding comments above, below, to the side – wherever. Because it’s analogue and the periods are based on a clock’s face, it is easy to see at a glance what is happening and when.

After using it for really very little time, I’m getting used to it quickly. And for the year, I’m using a larger version to block out the periods of essential work and which projects I’m working on at any time.

Of course, I don’t need it every day. Which is why I have had the Chronodex scheme printed onto labels. Most days my diary only has a single entry. But occasionally, I stick one in my diary pages and then I can use it for that day. When I’m back at University, that’ll change. I’ll be using it every day again by then, I expect.

It won’t work for everyone. In fact my wife looked at it (and me) with disgust when I showed it to her. But for creatives, I think it works infinitely better than the usual sequential systems.

And now, because I’m getting ready for a lot of writing, I’ll sign off.

Highlights of the week? Having a trip to New Orleans confirmed for next year. Low? Well, there hasn’t been one, really. And that’s how a week should be.

Now, I have to get a planner for next year sorted …

Chronodex stickers and annual planner at a tidy(er) desk!

 

Tagged: author, books, Chronodex, crime writing, Diary, projects, Scription, writing

Authors and PLR

Authors and Money

When a new book comes out, it’s not all wine and roses, sadly. Sometimes – I know this is hard to believe – people expect authors to go out and do some work. I’ve been pretty busy since TEMPLAR’S ACRE came out, because of signings and wandering the streets aimlessly, and also because my car didn’t pass its MOT last week, which means I’ve much less in my bank than I was expecting. So this week has been a time for catching up on admin.

I’m very lucky, because I have an established readership. I can tell, usually, how many people will pick up my books and read them. For new writers, those early days, weeks and months stretch away into the future like a visit to Purgatory.

Writers, of course, are all self-employed. We depend on clients (publishers) like any other small business. The difference is, if you are a builder or a decorator, electrician or plumber, you can usually depend on even the worst clients paying up in sixty days for your work. Well, that’s nothing compared to trying to earn money from writing.

My first book came out in March 1995, and I was really happy. It sold quite well, I learned. And for a writer I was successful – which is why I’m still writing.

However, was I rich? Not by a long chalk.

Authors are paid based on royalties. These are a kind of commission which used to be based on the price of the book when sold. The system worked well for many years, until 1997 when the publishers fought and won the right to discount books. Not a great earth-shattering event, you’d think, but for writing and writers, it was devastating.

The thing is, first, that authors don’t see any money for their writing for up to three years. Yes, three years.

The way it works is, the author sits down and does some strenuous work, exercising his brain like billy-oh, and at the end of a few months (or years) has a manuscript. This is sent off and a few months later (if lucky) he gets a nice letter saying it’s not bad. A publisher sends him money.

Oh happy day! Cash! This is, after all, what all serious writers are most serious about. Money means glasses of wine, tankards of frothing ale, colourful shots of high-octane stuff (or white powder, for the super-star sellers).

But let’s think about the money for a moment.

An author is paid cash up-front. It’s called an “advance”, because the money is an advance against future royalties to be earned. And when the book started to sell, the money must be paid back. So an author paid ten thousand pounds in advances must earn ten thousand and one pounds before he takes home more money.

That’s not the only problem. Authors are paid in stage payments, just like a builder. So, for example, usually the writer will earn one third on signing a contract, a further third when submitting a manuscript, and the last lump when the book comes out.

Of course none of that matters because the author will earn millions in the first couple of weeks after the book comes into print, right?

Wrong. The author’s book will come out in, say, March. Publishers calculate royalty payments on the basis of six monthly periods: January to June and July to December, and then pay three months later, in March/April or September/October. So, if you take my first book as an example, I finished that in March 1994 and it came out in print a year later. I could not earn anything from that until September 1995. But I knew I’d get nothing at all then, because it was a hardback (who buys a hardback by an unknown?) and I knew that I’d only start selling when I had paperbacks on the shelves. More than that, I had a firm conviction that I’d not be making good money until there were at least three paperbacks on the shelves, because I rarely if ever threw my hard earned coppers at an author until I could see that his or her publisher had the courage of their own convictions with that writer, and I suspected other readers were the same.

So, with a book every nine months, that meant I would be looking to the first quarter of 1997 before I could start earning some real money – all this from a book I wrote in 1994. And the first money would go to pay off the advances. I’d probably not be earning until the third quarter.

Which is why Steinbeck said that writing “made horse racing look a solid, stable business.” There are few professions in which it is so necessary to be independently wealthy. If you look at the top literary writers, almost all had a lot of money before they started writing, and with good reason.

Of course, advances used to be based on a realistic estimate of how many books would be sold. It was easy to see a hardback selling about a thousand copies to the libraries, for example. An author would be paid one tenth of the cover price, so for a twenty pound book, the author could expect two thousand pounds. With paperbacks earning less, usually about forty two pence, the author could expect some more money.

That all ended when the Net Book Agreement was discarded. After that, books could be discounted. And the result was, shops up and down the country closed.

In Plymouth there used to be five or six small independent bookshops. There are none left. Exeter had several – not now. Up and down the country, all the little crazy, weird shops have been shut down.

In the past, these shops were set up my slightly unwholesome characters with curious interests. Some would like craft books, others books about magic and witchcraft, while some would deal in titles that had to be supplied in brown paper bags. All depended upon the Net Book Agreement. They could stock their books because they would make money from selling the latest JK Rowling, John le Carré or Michael Connelly at a good profit. The profit from the mass-market subsidised all the stranger titles on underwater basket-weaving.

Which is why publishing is hit badly too. Suddenly, all the more wonderfully strange titles are finding it hard. They don’t get into print because there aren’t the bookshelves at independent bookshops. Without them, and we’ve lost over nine in every ten up and down the country, I understand, there is nowhere for publishers to sell that kind of odd and esoteric title. Which means publishers aren’t bothering to print them.

Authors used to be able to count on a flat percentage of their book, but now many publishers, having successfully fought for the end to price-fixing for books, have now forced new contracts on their authors, so now if a book is discounted, the author’s percentage is also cut. If a book is discounted by fifty percent, so is the author’s take. So a hardback sold at half price to the retailer means the author gets only one pound where in the past he would have taken two. If it’s sold through a retailer like Amazon for eighty percent discount, the author collects forty pence instead of the two pounds.

And of course, many authors have disappeared, because they cannot earn enough, or because their publishers feel that they cannot.

Which brings me back to the latest piece of sad news.

As I said, this week I have been doing the admin. One essential piece of this work is to fill in the forms for the Public Lending Right for the new book.

Some years ago, it was agreed that libraries should pay authors a reasonable sum for lending out books. After all, writers depend on the books for their income, so it’s only fair that if a library wants to lend a book, it should pay the author for the right to do so.

In the past, when I started writing, the amount of money per loan of a book was about two pence. In more recent years, it’s risen to six pence. It’s not going to make anyone a millionaire – the main idea is to support writers with lower incomes, so the total any author can take is capped at a maximum of, currently, six thousand, six hundred pounds a year. Many top authors have waived their rights to PLR, so that the pot can be split in more ways to support the needy.

PLR is a lifeline to many authors. The money is paid out in February, which has been a life-saver to many impoverished writers after Christmas, when energy bills hit their doormats.

Sadly, the PLR is being hit, and hit hard. It was a marvellous and efficient little bureaucracy, but the government has decided it was too expensive, so it is becoming a part of the British Library. This may not make much difference, in truth, but the other changes do.

Many libraries are being closed. Hereford, I understand, has plans to close all their libraries except one. Other local authorities are being slightly less Philistine, but the closures are going ahead all over the country. Many are being offered to local communities for them to manage on a volunteer basis.

Which means that in future, authors will not be paid PLR. Not only to ebooks not earn PLR, neither do books lent from a voluntary library. So authors will see their incomes drop again.

When the Society of Authors last surveyed their members, they discovered that of all authors, more than three quarters earned less than the national average wage. Over two thirds earned less than half that, and fully one half earned less than five thousand pounds a year.

I wouldn’t tell any aspiring author not to write. But I would never advise them to only write. It’s becoming essential that all authors have a different, full-time job, if they want to be able to enjoy a reasonable lifestyle.

And now, I’m off. I’m packing for a few nights away with my brother Keith on the moors. And for the first time, I’m not taking a tent. Just a tarp and a bivvy bag. The idea is, I’m too old to lug around a 21 Kg backpack. Instead, I’m going to be off with a nice 10 Kg one. But that does mean certain comforts have to be left behind. Which is a pain because the weather forecasts are – well, consistent, I guess. It’s going to start raining as we leave, and the rain will stop about an hour after we get back.

Oh, the joys of an English summer …

Tagged: authors, Dartmoor, Libraries, novels, PLR, walking, writing

The Best Thing About a New Book

It’s a good feeling to publish a new book.

People in shops want to know about it, readers want to ask where to buy it, fans want to know how to get a signed copy, and all over the place there are happy faces.

First Signing of the Day Waterstone’s Roman Gate!

There are few people happier than the author – but there are some. No, I don’t mean the family and friends. It’s the people who suddenly discover that they’re on the dedication page.

I know many authors who always sign their books to their wife or husband, and that’s nice. George MacDonald Fraser did so with every book, I think. But personally, I like to mention other people. Friends, colleagues, people who have helped me along the way.

The odd thing is, many of those who really appreciate it are the ones I’d least expect to. After all, I’m guilty of inflicting 32 published titles on the reading public now, so I’m quite used to the idea of dedicating them. But authors and professionals can be as touched as anyone else when it comes to learning a book’s dedicated to them.

Some years ago I had a hardened agent almost in tears when she realised I’d made the latest book for her. I was astonished by the reaction of a good friend, a writer and historian, when he received his surprise copy of the book dedicated to him. It was the first book dedicated to him. My great friend Quintin Jardine was delightfully tongue-tied when I gave him his book.

But for other people there’s a curious bafflement, I think. They tend to be touched when they receive a book with their names inside, but it’s a strange sort of celebration of friendship. Most people have a hug, rather than declaring friendship in a book.

Last week I gave a copy of Templar’s Acre to its dedicatees, and I am glad to say they were very happy. One of their children was heard to loudly proclaim, “We’re famous!” when she saw her name inside the book.

In the last week or two, I’ve been to signings, I’ve spoken to journalists, given interviews, and generally done everything that an author should to help promote his book. It’s been manic, but rewarding.

But for me, I think that the very best part of launching Templar’s Acre was the reaction of my friends when they saw their names inside the cover of the book.

Thanks, Rowlipops!

The new book cover – nice one, Simon & Schuster!

TEMPLAR’S ACRE Out This Week

So, here we are, in the launch week of another Templar Series story. But this time it’s going back in time to the siege of Acre, my first prequel to explain why Baldwin became the man he did.

It was huge fun to write this book. The main story was complicated to work through, but the period and scenes were so clear in my head after thinking about the story for twenty years, that it flowed really easily. It was a joy to sit and let the words flow. And now, I’m looking forward to seeing how the book gets received.

For those who’re interested, other writers said this:

“His best book yet. A cracking read in the best style of Conn Iggulden and Bernard Cornwell …” Manda Scott

“A breath-taking adventure which sweeps the reader directly into the heat, passion and horror of the infamous siege… Utterly enthralling” Karen Maitland

“as good as it gets” Susanna Gregory

“Compellingly brought to life – both bloody reality and glorious courage” Julian Stockwin

“I want more” Robert Low

I’m out all over the place from Thursday this week, first with signings in both Exeter Waterstone’s, then off to Newton Abbot, and finally there’s the official launch in Plymouth:

Thursday June 6th

 9:30am – Waterstones – Exeter Roman Gate

 10:30am – Waterstones – Exeter Cathedral / High Street

 2:00pm Waterstones – Newton Abbott

 4:00pm – Waterstones – Plymouth George Street

 6:30pm – 7:00pm Waterstones – Plymouth Drakes – Evening Launch Event

 Friday June 7th

 10:00am – Waterstones – Truro

 After all this, there’s going to be the thrill of me dancing Morris at Padstowe on Friday, and at the Royal Cornwall Show on Saturday, so if you’re around, and see Tinner’s Morris, drop by and say hello.

Now, to a serious final point: some people (can’t imagine why) rather like free books. If you are one of those sorts, you can help me. I need some new characters’ names. If you would like a free copy of Templar’s Acre in exchange for helping me to write my next story, and an acknowledgement for your help, go to http://www.cultpens.com/blog/category... and enter the competition.

I hope to see you at a bookshop somewhere soon!

 

 

Tagged: author, books, medieval, novel, publishing, Templar series, Templar's Acre, writer, writing

Stung

Reblogged from Quintin Jardine's blog:

I admit to being slightly underwhelmed by reports in recent days of Parliamentarians and their 'availability' to lobbyists. This is old news, and not worth the fuss that's being made. While it's all a bit seedy, nobody died, and nobody appears to be lying. Apart from . . .

These stories have been generated  by deliberate acts of deception by a couple of broadsheet newspapers and by the BBC's vicious, morally questionable, Panorama programme.

Read more… 95 more words

Quite agree. It sniffs badly, but there's nothing new in it.

Working Again

I was chatting to Paul Johnston, the author of several excellent books (I recommend them), and he demanded to know whether I ever actually wrote anything. Well, Paul, yes I do, actually. I don’t spend all my time Morris dancing.

Thanks to Lynn and Ray Thorne for this photo.

Writing is a tough job. No, seriously – the worst part is, that you’re never not working. You are always at home – or always at your office. Ideas come and then go with monotonous regularity. An idea that appeals at two in the morning as you’re going to bed, will seem so clear and obvious, but if you don’t note it down, it will disappear into the ether. And you did not have a piece of paper at the time, did you? So it’s lost forever.

Some years ago I got bitten by the bug of technology.

I have always loved the idea of anything that makes my life easier. I write using Scrivener from Literature and Latte because that software is the very best for anyone who needs to write books or anything else lengthy. Last year I began to use their Scapple package, because it’s a brilliant tool for braindumping. Before that, I was using Aeon Timeline for making sure my characters were all operating in real time and the murder didn’t actually occur three weeks after the body was discovered (I did see that in a thoroughly confused book once).

So some little while ago, I bought one of the first Apple iPads available, purely because I wanted to be more efficient.

There were good reasons for it.

First, the idea that I would always have it with me. It would be easier to carry than a laptop. And I could make notes on it whenever I wanted.

Then again, it is expensive to keep buying laser printers, toner and paper. Only natural, I thought, to get a tablet. Then I could send the manuscript to that, rather than printing. All my editing and reworking could be performed better on a fondleslab, obviously.

This was a simple concept, but it wasn’t as easy as it first appeared. Sending books to the iPad wasn’t intuitive or easy. I had to get the books into iTunes format, then move them from the main directory – just take my word for it. Not easy. But then I cracked it, and soon I was working.

I can still remember being on a train and a lady nearby commenting on my tablet with awe. I was rereading an edited copy of ACT OF VENGEANCE at the time, and it was working well. I didn’t have to carry 500 sheets of paper with me, but only the iPad. No need for ink or pens, nothing. I could sit back in comfort and read. And yes, I know that an iPad is heavy compared with a book – or a Kindle – but this was me reading my as yet unpublished work. The iPad was a wonderful improvement and a damned sight lighter than the print outs.

And yet …

When I got to twenty or so notes and corrections, it was a bit slow. The iPad couldn’t quite cope with the number of amendments I was making. I was correcting at least once in every couple of pages. The refresh speed slowed alarmingly. In fact, after two books I was persuaded. It wasn’t going to work for me. Much though I loved that iPad, it didn’t do the job I needed. Too large to carry all day, too hard to type on, too slow to edit. Its only real use was as a games machine. For that it was perfect (and the kids loved it). But that didn’t help me with my work either, when I had to wrestle it away from the children’s fists.

It was clear that it wasn’t the best device for me. Something else was needed.

Soon I was overwhelmed with desire. I had seen the future: it was an HTC Flyer.

HTC Flyer hard at work with an edit – nice machine, but wrong for me.

A brilliant little device, full of cleverness and style. It allowed me to use a pen to write on the screen. Rather than stubbing a finger where I wanted to put something, I could put a red line through it, and then draw arrows and add in handwritten words. My notes could have comments appended and, best of all, when I returned to my office, the appended comments would appear on the iMac at home! It was fantastic!

Not only that, it was smaller. Only seven inches across the screen, it was petite enough to slide into a coat or trouser pocket. Yes, it was expensive, but it was cheaper than the iPad, so when I sold that, I used the money to buy an HTC. Sorted.

Or so I would have been. But …

The Flyer is a lovely little piece of technology, but it’s not as good in many ways as, say, an iPad. I loved that device because it was coherent and simple. The Flyer is, too, but I never grew to love the Android OS on it as much as I did the iOS on the iPad. It’s a simple taste thing. And while I could use it for editing, (and it was more like reading a book), the fact is, the text didn’t look quite the same, and when I used the pen to strike through or add text, it wasn’t easy. I’d have to write more carefully, because when on A4 I had plenty of space between lines, on the tablet, the spacing was less helpful. Which is why, more recently, while working on lengthy proofs, I’ve discovered that I need something else.

Basically, I need paper. It’s easier to work with. And, to be honest, when I go away, I can carry the book I’m working on. If it’s a problem, I can carry my magical MacBook Air, which is as light as a paperback and allows me to work on my book in Scrivener.

So I am going back to paper. It’s easier for the edits. But I’m rapidly realising it’s a damn sight easier for notes and general working too.

A few of my notepads. Can an author ever have too much paper?

I have tried DayRunners, Moleskines, Time Managers, and File o Faxes, but nothing has ever quite hacked it. Trouble is, I like at least A5 sized notepads for writing. Smaller than that is OK for when I go out, but my notes take space. I usually need a bit more acreage when I’m putting ideas down.

The problem, of course, is that it is not always convenient. How do I carry them?

I wear Craghopper trousers most of the time. These all have massive map pockets on the right thigh, which will easily swallow a Moleskine book, but Moleskine paper is not good enough for most of my pens. When I am writing with my wonderful Visconti, or any of my lovely Conway Stewart pens, the ink bleeds through and smudges the page behind. Not good.

So in recent years the Moleskines have been relegated to second-division for my work, and I will grab, for preference, my Rhodia pads. These use thicker, much better quality paper, and I happily recommend them to anyone who wants good paper for fountain pens.

However, there is one difficulty. There’s always one, isn’t there? Nothing to do with the paper, or the bindings. That’s all fantastic. Rhodia is excellent quality. No. It’s the ruddy trousers.

I’ve been fasting on and off for the last few months, and it’s meant that I’ve lost some weight. Quite a lot. I’ve had to relinquish comfortable old trousers with fraying hems and pale, sun-bleached colours, and buy newer ones. And therein lies the problem. The newer ones have smaller cargo/map pockets. My Rhodia pads don’t fit!

What is a man to do?

In my case, it’s easy. Some while ago I saw the Midori Traveller’s Notebook, a ridiculously expensive item which is, basically, a sheet of leather with some elastic bands. But the more I’ve seen of the Midori, the more it’s grabbed my attention and interest. The leather is gorgeous, and ages well. It accepts bumps and scrapes with dignity and merely looks (like me) well-travelled. Or over-used in my case. The Midori gives me a notepad for ideas to do with my books, a sketch pad for when I’m out and don’t have a camera, a diary for daily use, and a section notepad for project notes, plans, and day-to-day lists. It is, in short, ideal.

Every so often I can collate ideas from my daily notes into my main journals at home, adding any extra thoughts as I go. Sketches of scenes, notes of comments from other people, everything can he held. Book plots and character ideas will go into the Rhodia A5 pad with separators. General notes to work on will end up in the A4 pads, and lists and things to do will stay on my desk in the other Rhodias.

The Midori is a little longer than wide, as tall as A5, but narrower. That means it’ll fit in all my cargo trousers, but it’ll also go in a jacket inside pocket. It will be with me all day long. No ideas need be missed ever again. And when I go to bed, the Midori can sit on the bedside table. Last thoughts can be scibbled before sleep. Or, more to the point, before I pick up a book and read. Because if I don’t have a little fondleslab, I confidently expect to read a lot more again.

Could the HTC do all this noting and stuff? You bet. But the temptation with the tablet was always to do a little more. I would check the news with it, because I could. I’d look at my emails, glance at Pinterest or Flickr, or do one of the other things I could – purely because I could. With a notepad, I won’t. Instead I will pick up a book and read for a bit. Which will, I reckon, enhance my life. Periods of my day will no longer be tied to technology.

And so the HTC will shortly appear on ebay. The funds released will go towards a new notepad and refills that I can use with my Visconti or Kaweco. And I am looking forward to it enormously.

Hopefully it’ll arrive before too long. Because it would be good to have it with me when I start to tour the south west with my latest book: TEMPLAR’S ACRE, from 6th June.

In fact I wish I had it for tomorrow. Saturday 18th May is the day for Tinner’s Morris to go dancing with Winkleigh Morris on an extended day of dance all over the north of Devon, ending up in Winkleigh again in the evening. It’ll be a great day. I’ll just have to carry a different notepad, that’s all.

Small armed services, but we do have sticks!

 

Tagged: author, books, crime writing, Dartmoor, making notes, Midori Traveller's Notebook, novel, planning, plotting, writing