So I Guess I’m Really an Author Now.
The Oxford Dictionary defines an author as:
a writer of a book, article, or document.
someone who writes books as a profession.
an originator of a plan or idea.
As of today, I officially fit this definition ( it’s a secondary profession, but I have sold some copies!).
It’s an exciting day, one that, five years ago, I’m not sure I would have ever imagined happening. My adorable husband has clicked on my Amazon link about a zillion times and keeps saying things like, “I can’t believe it’s really there!” Five years ago, I never would have self-published, and, being in Canada, I’m not sure I would have ever found a home for Campbell. Publishing is a really small industry here, and even if you’re successful, it’s a much smaller measure than most more populated areas. I maybe would have completed a manuscript and tried to get some agents to look at it while I desperately tried to leverage my publishing experience to get noticed. It would have taken a lot of time and effort, and I have no idea if it would have been successful or really depressing. I know firsthand how subjective taste can be, and, honestly, I’m not sure my ego would have been strong enough to withstand several rounds of batterings before I decided I probably wasn’t cut out to be an author. I have a fairly demanding day job, and writing is something I do because I love it, and I’m pretty sure shopping mine around and being rejected would have killed the love pretty quickly.
What’s changed since then?
A hell of a lot.
E-readers became affordable. Authors like Amanda Hocking gained notoriety. Scrivener was invented. Twitter blew up. Fifty Shades of Grey happened. I think for a lot of people (myself five years ago, for example), self-publishing was a route reserved for people who couldn’t get an agent, or a contract, or hadn’t written something worthy of being read.
Simply put, it’s not anymore.
I’m not saying I won’t (and haven’t) had to defend my decision, but, as a first-time genre fiction author that knows how the industry operates, I have no doubt that I made the right choice. And let’s face it, by self-publishing, I’m actually in very good company.
Self-publishing is a lot of work. I’d never short sell it and say it hasn’t been. I’ve been lucky to have a hell of a lot of support along the way from both conventional and unusual sources. I’ve done a lot of Googling. I’ve spent hours removing wayward tabs, and blinking at fonts. Days second-guessing my ideas and character motivations, and worrying about what people might think of the world I’ve invented. I’ve spent a good chunk of change on creating this book too, countless woman hours aside.
I also know it’s not for every project.
This is the part of the post where I ask you a favour. Because I’m publishing this on my own (though this likely wouldn’t change if I was with a small press), the marketing and publicity is all on me. I’m okay with that, because I can ask you for assistance.
If you read Campbell, please, please leave a review where you purchased it. I’m not going to ask you to leave a positive review, just an honest one. Amazon reviews will help me get a wide audience to see my book (right now, I’m floating in the soup cans if you look me up).
If you’re active in social media, be it Facebook, or Twitter, Tumblr or Goodreads or whatever floats your boat, share it around, even if you hate dystopian fiction, or books, or reading, because someone you connect with might be really into it, and that would help me out a lot.
If you have friends that like to read, or belong to active online communities, please pass along a link. Again, if you don’t want to/plan on reading it, no problem. As I said above, taste is subjective, but maybe sound of your friends would really dig my book.
If you genuinely want to read it, but can’t afford to buy Campbell, get in touch with me, and we’ll figure something out. I would never want to feel like I was being exclusionary by charging for my book (though I do hope you buy it). If you are considering sacrificing anything but a cup of Starbucks coffee to buy this book, let me know.
Now, the links. On Smashwords and Amazon (I think), you can read a portion of the book without purchasing it if you want to try before you buy.
Smashwords (distributor for iBooks, Kobo, Nook: The ISBN listed here will eventually take you to the listings on these sites if you don’t want to buy from Smashwords).
I’m going to do a print version that will be available on Amazon (I’m super excited for the print book, despite having bought a Kindle this summer), and I’ll make sure to let you know when that’s up for purchase.
I’m also aiming to have West, the second book in the series, available on February 8th, 2014.
When you’re (hopefully) reading Campbell, you might notice the dedication at the front. I wasn’t sure I’d ever post an explanation, but I think it’s worth sharing.
While I was writing Campbell, as when I do anything that’s moderately creative, I thought a lot about my granny. We’re fairly sure she was dyslexic, and her mother pulled her out of traditional school and sent her to art school when she was around fourteen. She loved to read. She’d read anything that landed in front of her. Almost all of the age-inappropriate reading I did was on account of her. She knew, and she didn’t care, because she was just happy I was reading, because reading was such an important part of her life. I remember her calling me when I was in university to ask me what novels I was reading so she could read them too if she hadn’t already.
Reading is an amazing form of escape. My grandmother lost a daughter to mental illness when she would have been in her early sixties, around the same time I was born. I never knew my Aunt Margot personally, only from the stories my grandmother and my mom shared about her, perhaps in an attempt to keep her close when she was anything but. I know she was an actress, who caused quite a stir by going naked in a 70s production of Hair, much to my family court judge grandfather’s chagrin. I know she moved to Nova Scotia to take up with some hippie in the late seventies, and my mother fell in love with the province on a visit, which resulted in my parents moving there a few years before I was born.
If that hadn’t happened, my life would have been completely altered. I never would have met my husband. There’s a good chance I might not have been born.
When Margot, who opted to go by her middle name, Lucy at that point, went off medication, she wasn’t the same. I know it was one of my granny’s biggest regrets, not being able to help her, to watch her grow into a happier version of herself through medication and treatment, but it didn’t happen. One by one, she disowned everyone in my family, leaving my mother to the end.
Thirty years later, Mom still has the same phone number on the off chance she might pick up a phone to call her. All attempts to track her down have come up short. She doesn’t know my grandmother died in 2007.
While she’s named for my aunt, the main character in Campbell, Lucy, doesn’t have much in common with the stories I’ve heard about her. This was fairly deliberate. I wanted to find a way though, perhaps a small one, to honor my granny for instilling a love of reading, and eventually writing in me. She taught me to truly appreciate every story (and she had a lot of them), and as a form of gratitude for that gift, I wanted to give one to her in return, and ensure that, even though we might never know where Margot is or how her life story has turned out, she’ll live on in this small way.
I hope you enjoy Campbell. I’ll very much look forward to hearing your thoughts.
CS
