Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "self-publishing"
What I've Learned About Self Publishing
It's coming up for three years since I first embarked upon the crazy venture of self publishing. Here, in no apparent order, are the lessons I've learned.
People will be snobbish
Something you'll discover early on: when some people hear the words "self publishing," they'll hear "vanity publishing", and nothing will convince them otherwise. If you decide to self publish, you have to do it for the right reasons. If you think you're not ready or your writing isn't good enough, I urge you to reconsider.
I know exactly why I self published. I'd repeatedly been told that although my plots and writing were fine, my inclusion of LGBT characters meant my books were "niche", with the oft heard phrase, "If you made them straight ..." I researched lesbian publishing houses but the books always gave the impression of having been knocked up by a dirty old man in his shed, the typical cover showing an orgasmic blonde straddling a butch brunette's face.
I knew this mindset was wrong. There was a market for my kind of story, and I was determined to find it. The success of self published authors like Kiki Archer has proved that the Kindle is the natural home for lesbian books.
It won't make a fortune
If the media condescends to mention self publishing, it's always in the same breath as multi million bestsellers like Amanda Hocking or E L James. This may give fledgling writers the impression that it's a cakewalk. Quick reality check: your average traditionally published author earns around £11,000 a year. Your average self published author, having far fewer resources, will inevitably make less.
Some of the guides I've read have been astonishingly cavalier, recommending that writers jack in their day jobs and promote their book 24/7. Unless you're Bruce Wayne or a stay at home parent, this isn't an option for most people. In my experience, your earnings from your ebook will be a supplement to your main income rather than a living.
Use social media
Some writers regard social media with a mixture of distaste and suspicion, arguing that the greats managed perfectly well without it. Time to get real: if your novel only exists as an ebook, it's your number one resource. It won't survive without it.
Traditionally published authors have marketing teams working on their behalf. When you're self printed, you're your publicist, and you have to make every piece of communication count. Don't rest on your laurels. You need to use a variety of platforms; you should at the very least be on Facebook and Twitter, and I strongly advise having a presence on Goodreads as well. Don't make all your posts sales oriented; just as you wouldn't buy from someone who pursued you down the street, hitting you on the head with a hammer, no one will succumb to heavy handed techniques. Take part on writer and reader forums and make friends. If people get to like you, you'll have allies and potential readers.
Blog!
Blogging is an essential part of a writer's utility belt, whatever the cynics might think. It's the most versatile way to communicate with your audience, whether it's discussing tricks of the trade or commenting on news stories. The best thing about it is you can update as little or often as you wish, and cover whatever you like. Like participating on forums, it allows readers to see the real you.
You can't guess what people will like
A truth readers might not realise: every writer firmly believes their latest book is their best. And since they're human, they're bound to have favourites. They might hate one book because it reminds them of their ex, might like another because they had a ball writing it.
This doesn't translate to sales. The Revenge of Rose Grubb is a very personal book, and I think it's better than The Governess, but it lags far behind the older book in terms of popularity. Like anything else, a book can capture readers' imaginations or be in the right place at the right time; a genre might drop in or out of fashion. You can't guess if a book will be a bestseller - and if you deliberately write to tick boxes, you'll end up with a shallow, derivative work.
Don't get disheartened
There's a human tendency to expect instant results - and to feel like a failure when they're not forthcoming. If you're the kind of person who checks their sales every few hours or cries over a bad review, self publishing may not be for you.
Writing is one of the most personal occupations there is. It hurts when a stranger criticises your creation. But if you genuinely want to make writing your career, you'll have to keep on going. Just as a salesperson can't lock themselves in the toilet and refuse to come out, you can't let a bad experience put you off.
Ultimately the pros outweigh the cons. I've had enjoyable chats with readers about certain plot points and received reviews that made me walk on air. One reviewer found Grubb after the search term "lesbian" yielded pages of tasteless threesome fics; while it wasn't quite what she had been looking for, she couldn't put it down. That put a huge dopey smile on my face.
People will be snobbish
Something you'll discover early on: when some people hear the words "self publishing," they'll hear "vanity publishing", and nothing will convince them otherwise. If you decide to self publish, you have to do it for the right reasons. If you think you're not ready or your writing isn't good enough, I urge you to reconsider.
I know exactly why I self published. I'd repeatedly been told that although my plots and writing were fine, my inclusion of LGBT characters meant my books were "niche", with the oft heard phrase, "If you made them straight ..." I researched lesbian publishing houses but the books always gave the impression of having been knocked up by a dirty old man in his shed, the typical cover showing an orgasmic blonde straddling a butch brunette's face.
I knew this mindset was wrong. There was a market for my kind of story, and I was determined to find it. The success of self published authors like Kiki Archer has proved that the Kindle is the natural home for lesbian books.
It won't make a fortune
If the media condescends to mention self publishing, it's always in the same breath as multi million bestsellers like Amanda Hocking or E L James. This may give fledgling writers the impression that it's a cakewalk. Quick reality check: your average traditionally published author earns around £11,000 a year. Your average self published author, having far fewer resources, will inevitably make less.
Some of the guides I've read have been astonishingly cavalier, recommending that writers jack in their day jobs and promote their book 24/7. Unless you're Bruce Wayne or a stay at home parent, this isn't an option for most people. In my experience, your earnings from your ebook will be a supplement to your main income rather than a living.
Use social media
Some writers regard social media with a mixture of distaste and suspicion, arguing that the greats managed perfectly well without it. Time to get real: if your novel only exists as an ebook, it's your number one resource. It won't survive without it.
Traditionally published authors have marketing teams working on their behalf. When you're self printed, you're your publicist, and you have to make every piece of communication count. Don't rest on your laurels. You need to use a variety of platforms; you should at the very least be on Facebook and Twitter, and I strongly advise having a presence on Goodreads as well. Don't make all your posts sales oriented; just as you wouldn't buy from someone who pursued you down the street, hitting you on the head with a hammer, no one will succumb to heavy handed techniques. Take part on writer and reader forums and make friends. If people get to like you, you'll have allies and potential readers.
Blog!
Blogging is an essential part of a writer's utility belt, whatever the cynics might think. It's the most versatile way to communicate with your audience, whether it's discussing tricks of the trade or commenting on news stories. The best thing about it is you can update as little or often as you wish, and cover whatever you like. Like participating on forums, it allows readers to see the real you.
You can't guess what people will like
A truth readers might not realise: every writer firmly believes their latest book is their best. And since they're human, they're bound to have favourites. They might hate one book because it reminds them of their ex, might like another because they had a ball writing it.
This doesn't translate to sales. The Revenge of Rose Grubb is a very personal book, and I think it's better than The Governess, but it lags far behind the older book in terms of popularity. Like anything else, a book can capture readers' imaginations or be in the right place at the right time; a genre might drop in or out of fashion. You can't guess if a book will be a bestseller - and if you deliberately write to tick boxes, you'll end up with a shallow, derivative work.
Don't get disheartened
There's a human tendency to expect instant results - and to feel like a failure when they're not forthcoming. If you're the kind of person who checks their sales every few hours or cries over a bad review, self publishing may not be for you.
Writing is one of the most personal occupations there is. It hurts when a stranger criticises your creation. But if you genuinely want to make writing your career, you'll have to keep on going. Just as a salesperson can't lock themselves in the toilet and refuse to come out, you can't let a bad experience put you off.
Ultimately the pros outweigh the cons. I've had enjoyable chats with readers about certain plot points and received reviews that made me walk on air. One reviewer found Grubb after the search term "lesbian" yielded pages of tasteless threesome fics; while it wasn't quite what she had been looking for, she couldn't put it down. That put a huge dopey smile on my face.
Doubt: The Writer's Constant Companion
Over ninety odd blogs I've discussed various aspects of the writing experience. Now I'll attempt to address the elephant in the room, the devil squatting on every indie author's shoulder: doubt. (Not that it doesn't afflict traditionally published authors, but that isn't the focus of this post).
Ninety five percent of the time I love being indie. I can write when I like, no deadlines looming. I scribble away with my tongue out, lovingly transforming the wild scrawls into a book. I blog and tweet so people know I'm still around. When the story gets five stars or I receive a message from a reader, it's great.
But then there's the other five percent, the five that makes me want to take the books down and forget writing altogether. Bitchy reviews are depressing but at least they're proof that someone somewhere has bought a copy. More frequent is the resounding silence on both sides of the Atlantic. Without a non stop marketing mill behind you, your project is condemned to sink, of no interest or consequence to anyone.
I realise I must sound like a petulant child. "What did you expect, a parade?" Hypothetical Reader 1 scoffs. Or: "If you wanted a wider audience, why not get a traditional publisher like everyone else?" Or, most toxic of all, "Is it because you secretly know you're not good enough?"
Doubt is awful. It's anti creative and harmful. I've come closer these past few months to giving up than ever before; some days I wonder if I'm just being bloody minded. I have to remind myself that artistic careers are measured in a completely different way from other fields. While people accept that not every entrepreneur is Richard Branson, you're not considered a "real" author unless your book has been reviewed in one of the nationals. And if my only concern is fame and fortune, shouldn't I jack it in anyway?
Once I stopped writing for nine months. It seemed like a reasonable decision at the time. I'd received my first rejection from a serious publisher; ergo I'd never get anywhere. (I was fifteen and very melodramatic).
The result? Pure misery. It may sound overwrought and pretentious, but it honestly felt as though a dear friend had died. I somehow managed to go through the motions and pass my GCSEs, but it wasn't life as I knew it could - and should - be lived. I didn't feel like myself until I had a pen in my hand again. Screw Publisher X!
Doubt will always be there. Only the supremely talented or unaware lack it. Since there's no way of exorcising it, you may as well roll up your sleeves and carry on.
Ninety five percent of the time I love being indie. I can write when I like, no deadlines looming. I scribble away with my tongue out, lovingly transforming the wild scrawls into a book. I blog and tweet so people know I'm still around. When the story gets five stars or I receive a message from a reader, it's great.
But then there's the other five percent, the five that makes me want to take the books down and forget writing altogether. Bitchy reviews are depressing but at least they're proof that someone somewhere has bought a copy. More frequent is the resounding silence on both sides of the Atlantic. Without a non stop marketing mill behind you, your project is condemned to sink, of no interest or consequence to anyone.
I realise I must sound like a petulant child. "What did you expect, a parade?" Hypothetical Reader 1 scoffs. Or: "If you wanted a wider audience, why not get a traditional publisher like everyone else?" Or, most toxic of all, "Is it because you secretly know you're not good enough?"
Doubt is awful. It's anti creative and harmful. I've come closer these past few months to giving up than ever before; some days I wonder if I'm just being bloody minded. I have to remind myself that artistic careers are measured in a completely different way from other fields. While people accept that not every entrepreneur is Richard Branson, you're not considered a "real" author unless your book has been reviewed in one of the nationals. And if my only concern is fame and fortune, shouldn't I jack it in anyway?
Once I stopped writing for nine months. It seemed like a reasonable decision at the time. I'd received my first rejection from a serious publisher; ergo I'd never get anywhere. (I was fifteen and very melodramatic).
The result? Pure misery. It may sound overwrought and pretentious, but it honestly felt as though a dear friend had died. I somehow managed to go through the motions and pass my GCSEs, but it wasn't life as I knew it could - and should - be lived. I didn't feel like myself until I had a pen in my hand again. Screw Publisher X!
Doubt will always be there. Only the supremely talented or unaware lack it. Since there's no way of exorcising it, you may as well roll up your sleeves and carry on.
