**Note to readers: I rewrote this post five or six times. Half of those posts had a positive spin, half went into the other direction. My attitudes about writing and publishing fluctuate on a daily basis. While this post may not be the most positive, know that I do still have moments of unfettered hope about the future of publishing my work. Ask me again tomorrow and the outlook may not be as bright.
Regrets—I have a few.
It’s a big deal to publish a book no matter how you go about
it. But the biggest lessons from it all are the things you have learned while
you were standing right in the middle of all that planning and stress and hope.
There were many things I could have done differently,
starting with choosing a completely different form of writing to publish. Haiku
is great, but half the world scoffs saying it’s easy, others say that it’s so
challenging each one is a masterpiece in simplicity. I’m definitely walking the
middle road on that topic, but creating a book of free verse poems or a novel
would have probably provided a better vehicle for sales.
That being said, the book is what it is. I could have tried
different ways to advertise the book. I could have given out more free copies
to avid readers. I could have made sure that paperback version and the ebook
version came out on the same day. I could have just thrown money at the problem
with paid advertising and paid book reviews (which I would never recommend). I
could have simply waited and waited and waited until maybe someday, finally a
real publisher or agent saw some talent in my work. But I didn’t wait around. I
self-published because it the best way I knew how to get it out there at the
time.
A Career Changer?
The big question I know that I had at the beginning of this
process was whether this would significantly change my career in any way. I’m
very open about what I write, how I go about it and the struggles I have trying
to make it my life’s work. But even I have to admit when I send a short story
or some poetry to literary journals, Unfolding Life is never mentioned in the
cover letter or the short bio. Self-publishing still has a stigma because the
quality is unregulated. I will tell you this—after spending the past seven or
eight years reading A LOT self-published work, the ratio of good-to-bad is
about the same as traditionally published books. That’s because it is all about
the reader’s perception and how they emotionally connect or disconnect with
each story. Yes, formatting and grammatical nightmares are much more common in
the self-publishing space, but even a great story can overcome all of that
(think of your favorite trilogies-now-blockbuster-movies set).
Lessons Learned
Learning throughout this process did give me one thing that
I don’t regret—it made me happy to know what to expect for any potential future
projects. Will I continue to self-publish? Maybe. I would still love to have a
traditional contract with a major publisher, but I also know that the contract
negotiations would be fierce—I’m no fool when it comes to royalties on ebooks.
Will I continue to write? Come on. That’s like asking me
whether I will continue to breathe.
My motivation for writing will never change—it entertains me
and I can’t think of anything else I would rather spend my time doing. Unfortunately,
that doesn’t mean I actually spend enough time writing—it takes a lot to cut
through the demands of trying to make a living (not always succeeding at it)
and trying to convince everyone around me I’m not at their beck and call just
because my office is located where I live. Then when there is a time to write,
I feel so guilty that I’m doing something people consider unimportant the
anxiety starts to block out all of those ideas that seemed to be good in my
head, but once on the paper seem like a whole lot of nothing.
My motivation for publishing will need to change if I ever
want to enjoy the process again. I can’t think about it as just doing this
project to get to the next project. Right now I’m still in the mindset that if
Unfolding Life had made more money, I could have hired an editor for my novel
In Another Life. And if that project sold enough copies, it would give me the
money to hire an artist for my comic book project. With the profits from that
comic book project, I would be able to finally find a way to shoot some of the
short films I’ve written. It’s a vicious cycle, but I don’t think it’s all that
unreasonable. It’s not like I thought about making a full-time living from a
single book. I’m certainly not that naïve. I just wanted to reinvest the
profits in future projects which may or may not have led to the one perfect
project that finally provided the means to write full-time.
The self-publishing world will absolutely crush me if I
dwell on getting paid what I think my work is worth. Yes, I do believe that
writers are more than entitled to make a living from writing alone. And by
alone I mean no parent, sibling, spouse, sugar daddy, trust fund, anyone or
anything else providing additional financial support. This background support
is often hidden by both beginning and well-established writers. Very few
actually talk about struggling, which leads me and their audience to believe
that they don’t. But they won’t tell you that—they’ll lose their starving
artist street cred.
Most consumers (and *ahem* those who hire freelance writers
for their businesses) do not believe that writing can or should be a full-time
job, and they certainly don’t want to pay a writer what they are worth. I can’t
say I blame them. I am that consumer. The ONLY ebook I have ever purchased is
my own to fulfill giveaways and review copies. I have hundreds of books on my
Kindle and my Kobo that I downloaded for free. I haven’t bought a physical book
in the past three years—I’ve been lucky enough to be given the opportunity to
write reviews in exchange for free books, so I am that consumer. Unless the
book seems like it will absolutely change my life, I’m a little reluctant to
pay for it. I don’t have the resources to make as many book purchases as I want,
and there’s your full circle—if I made more money writing, I could buy more
books.
So I get it. I get why this project was not what I would
consider a success.
I’m smarter for going through the process, but I’m also
realistic. Whether any future writing will ever see the light of day is a
serious question I’m still struggling with. I know that hard work is the key,
but when you feel like you have given it more than your all and it still brings
no results, you have to keep asking yourself whether it is worth all the time,
effort, stress and guilt for not spending time trying to be better at making money instead of keeping focus on being creative.
Previous drafts of this post were a lot more positive, but
that attitude made it feel like I was lying to myself and to everyone else. I'm disappointed in the sales numbers. I’m
frustrated that even though I know a whole lot more about online marketing than
most first-time writers going into this, I still couldn’t get the project in
front of the right audience. I’m angry that it feels like there’s some secret
to success that I just haven’t figured out.
Right now, I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t want
to spend the next six months working hard on another writing project only to
have the same outcome. The future of my career as a professional writer in any capacity is
uncertain, and it’s not a feeling I like carrying around each day. It’s
decision time and I still don’t know where I’m going. I know that wherever
it is I have to move forward in some direction, with or without writing projects in my hand.
