Self-Publishing (or Why You Can't Read Travelers)

When people ask me how my book's going, and I start telling them about the query process and the publishing industry and how getting published is like removing a bullet from your leg with a toothpick,* often the next question is: "Have you thought about publishing it yourself?"

Answer: Yes. Many times.

I admit it's tempting. I mean, Travelers may never be published, and I know people (five of them) that want to read it. They'd probably even like it, being my friends and all.

But I'm holding out for a few reasons. Some are minor: self-publishing is expensive, it requires more time and energy, and if I got published later I couldn't put that nice little "Debut Novel" sticker on my books. Stupid, I know. If self-publishing was what I really wanted, those things wouldn't stand in my way.

One thing that does stand in my way is self-publishing's reputation. Traditional publishers give readers a guarantee, or at least a high probability, that what they're about to read is Good. Self-publishing doesn't have that. Actually, it has less than that because so much out there isn't good (according to general opinion). I know there are fantastic self-published books, and terrible traditionally-published ones, but even so, I don't want the stigma.

The other thing standing in my way is that self-publishing is not challenging enough.** The road to traditional publishing is really, really, really, really hard. And it's pushing me. In learning what it takes to get published, in seeing statistics and examples of stories that get rejected, in critiquing the works of other authors competing for the same agents I am, I have grown exponentially - more than I ever would have had I just put Travelers on Lulu.com a year ago.

There are lots of good reasons to self-publish. And for some, self-publishing is the fulfillment of their dream. I think that's awesome. Go for it. Dreams and journeys are what make life worth living.

But self-publishing is not my dream. I want to be published the regular way. I don't know why. I know the odds. Do you know how many unpublished authors have blogs like this? Probably like... well, it's a lot, and many more that don't blog. A lot of them have been trying for this longer than I have. A lot of them are better writers than I am.

I don't think I'm special. I don't assume God's going to open the doors just for me or anything. I do know I want this. And, for right now at least, self-publishing would feel like I settled, like I quit. I'm not ready to do that yet.


* i.e. anyone can do it, but it takes forever and hurts like hell.

** I know self-publishing has it's own challenges, not the least of which is peddling your own books so that they actually sell. But I'm talking about the challenge just to be published, which self-publishing by definition does not have. Anyone can do it.

How to Not be a Meanie Head

Last time I talked about what to do when faced with meanie heads online. But why are they so mean? Interestingly, if you ask them, most people don't think they're being mean at all. "I'm just expressing my opinion," they might say. Some even believe they're helping.

Sometimes, I'm one of those people. If you read all the comments and blog posts under my name, you might find some mean, arrogant stuff - probably more than I'm aware of. I'm just trying to help people, but I come off sounding like a jerk. What am I doing wrong? How do I express my opinion without being a meanie head?

The problem, I think, is that we don't separate what we're saying from how we say it. We think "This story sucks," and so we say exactly that. Maybe we're even specific, "Your protagonist is stupid. Everything you wrote is cliche."

What if the story's not any good? Shouldn't I tell them what I think? Absolutely. If a story sucks, or a query is confusing, or someone's political beliefs drive you nuts, we're free to say so. BUT if we want people to actually listen to what we're saying, then we need to be more careful. The following are things I'm learning myself, as I try to do this very thing:

TIP #1: Assume the person you're talking to is as intelligent as you are. This is really hard, but it's fundamental. If you can't do this, see Rule #3 from last time.

TIP #2: Emphasize that it's your opinion. No matter how convinced you are that you're right, your thoughts on writing, politics, religion, agent behavior, etc. are in the end only your opinion.

TIP #3: Never say "never" (or always, or must, or you have to). There are times when these imperatives are necessary (e.g. never send Nathan a query with a rhetorical question), but for the most part they should be avoided unless you, personally, make the rules.

TIP #4: Don't be sarcastic. Sarcasm is mean and hurtful by nature. It's fine with friends, where everyone knows that everyone is joking, but not on touchy subjects. If you want people to listen, just don't do it.

Note that none of this changes what you're saying, only how you say it. So what about you guys? Any tips on how to say harsh things while still respecting the person you're talking to?

How to Deal with Meanie Heads

The internet can be a very mean place. It's nice enough when you're with friends, but if you go to a neighborhood where nobody knows you, and then you disagree with someone there, you're liable to get your head chewed off.*

I'll be the first to admit I don't deal with stuff like this very well. When someone attacks me personally, I get upset. I get stressed out. I feel like I have to, have to set them straight if I'm going to sleep that night.

You know what? It never works.

But there's hope. I'm going to fawn all over Nathan Bransford for a moment, so feel free to skip to the end. As an agent, Nathan deals with angry people - unpublished authors who insist he listen to their pitch, or who get angry at rejection and demand an explanation. He also has a significant internet presence, which means anonymous naysayers left and right.

Yet not once have I seen Nathan whine, complain, grouse, or (let me find my thesaurus here...) cavil. When he responds, he does so with grace and humor. It's amazing, and he's become sort of my role model for Being a Nice Person.

So recently, when I was faced once again with a personal attack online, I was moved to find Nathan's post on dealing with negativity. I condensed it into rules, because I like rules.

When faced with someone who attacks you or puts you down:

1. Don't complain.
2. Try try try to care as little as possible.
3. Don't respond.
4. If you MUST respond, do so with a clear head, with sincere humor and humility. (If you can't be genuinely funny or humble, see Rule 3).

And lastly: Negativity is a test of strength. If you complain or fight back (even subtly): you lose. If you show strength of character: you win.


* Don't believe me? Try visiting a message board devoted to science, religion, Democrats, Republicans, or query letters. Depending on where you go, tell them "Jesus doesn't believe in dinosaurs," "Jesus is a homo," "Obama doesn't believe in dinosaurs," or "Obama is Jesus," and see what happens.

At the query letters' site, just submit a query letter.

An Inability to Manage Expectations

It doesn't matter how low my odds are, or how many times I do it, whenever I enter a contest or send out a query (which, really, is just another kind of contest), I get all hopeful and excited and daydreamy and, basically, set myself up for a let down. I can't help it. No matter how much I try to tell myself it's not gonna happen, part of me refuses to believe it.

This goes for beta reading too. Right now, Air Pirates is in the hands of real people - with eyes and thoughts. Over the next few weeks they're going to tell me what they think of it. I constantly catch myself thinking, "They're going to love it, and I'm going to send it out right away." That's stupid, I know. I've been doing this how long, and I still think someone will say it's perfect??

Of course then I go the other way. I start thinking about what they might say, and suddenly I notice everything that's wrong with the story. I know what they're going to say. Well you don't have to say it, all right? It's terrible, I know!

You see my problem? The only thing I can do is stop thinking about it, but that's hard. Especially when I talk to my beta readers. There's this voice begging me to say, "So do you like it? Oh please tell me you like it. Wait, what if you don't? Never mind, don't tell me. Oh, but I can already see it in your eyes..."

It goes on like this. Now, listen. If you're one of my beta readers, I'm not fishing for compliments or early opinions here. Don't tell me anything until you've finished reading it, really. It wouldn't help. If you liked it, I'd be all, "They like it! I'll be able to send it out, I know it. But wait, what if they get to the end and they change their mind? Oh no, they're going to be so disappointed!"

And if you were more honest, told me you didn't like it... well, that's something I deal with better if I can focus on the reasons, the critique itself.

I'm such a mess. Fortunately I have distractions today. No fireworks (the Embassy has a party, but we can't bring our kids without IDs), but there's Transformers 2 and bowling with the kids. That's a good day.

High Stakes

(NOTE: I'm still looking for beta readers. If you want in, let me know soon.)

It feels like editors and agents online are constantly asking "What are the stakes?" when they look at queries or stories. For the longest time, I didn't understand what this meant. I'm still not sure, but I think I get it (though whether I can see it in my own writing is a different story).

It's like playing poker without betting. While it's a mildly interesting exercise in probability, it doesn't really matter who wins. It's boring, because nothing's at stake.

Likewise, the reader needs to know not only the protagonist's goals, but why those goals are important. What will happen if they fail? What will happen if they succeed? Why does it matter? Without that, the story (or query) is just a bunch of random stuff that happens.

Take Cars (because it's what my boys are watching right now). Lightning McQueen wants to be the first rookie to ever win the Piston Cup. That should be stakes enough, right? Well, not really. Winning is something, but just like in poker, it doesn't matter as much without something at stake.

That's why Dinoco is mentioned like 20 or 30 times. Dinoco is the big sponsor for the Piston Cup. They've got the helicopter, the glamour girls, the ritzy parties, everything. Their poster boy is retiring, and they're looking for someone new to sponsor - whoever wins the Piston Cup. This is in contrast to Lightning's current sponsor, an ointment for cars with rusty bumpers. It's gross, it's poor, and it's demeaning.

Those are the stakes. If Lightning wins, he gets fame and the high life. If he loses, he's stuck being the poster boy for old, rusty cars. Take the sponsors out, and the race doesn't have as much meaning. At least that's the idea.

So easy to see in someone else's work. So hard to see in my own.

Wanted: Beta Readers for Air Pirates

Chapters: All of them
Scenes: All of them
Words murdered: All of... I mean, 6016 (6%)

Time I said I'd be editing: 5 weeks
Time I actually spent editing: 12 weeks
Time I spent on this novel so far: 22 months
Time before I send it out: Withholding judgment until I hear what the betas think

-----------------------------------------

It's time! The (1st) Editing Phase of Air Pirates is over. Now to the Beta Phase, for which I need some of you. If you want to be part of my team of Beta Readers, now is your chance.

As a Beta Reader, your task will be to read a 94,000 word manuscript (that's longer than Harry Potter 2, but shorter than Harry Potter 3) and tell me what you think of it within a reasonable amount of time.

Telling me what you think means telling me what's working or not working in the story - whatever you notice and whatever I don't notice because I'm too close to it.

It doesn't mean saying "I love it!" or "This sucks!" It will mean being specific and (preferably) being nice.

It also doesn't mean you have to be an editor or even a writer. If you like to read, then your opinion matters.

A reasonable amount of time, in this case, is about 6 weeks. That's just what I'm asking for. If you miss it, the worst that might happen is I'll move on without your input.

If this sounds like something you want to do, e-mail me: adamheine at Gmail. If you have questions, I'll answer them in the comments.

Almost forgot. For those of you unfamiliar with Air Pirates, here's the current (albeit outdated and kinda rough) blurb:

No one's ever cared about Hagai's birthday, least of all Hagai. So on his 21st he's surprised to receive a stone that gives chance visions of the future. He has no idea why his mother sent it to him - or how, since she was killed eighteen years ago. Though Hagai's never done anything braver than put peppers in his stew, he sets out to find her hoping she's alive. Unfortunately, he's now the target of sky sailors and air pirates who want the stone for themselves. If the sky'lers get it, he'll have no way to find his mother. But to keep it, Hagai faces being crushed by an airship, being beaten to death by pirates, and having his throat slit by a wanted sky'ler named Sam Draper - and that's only the first day.

When Sam nicks the stone, Hagai tracks him down and demands it back - politely, of course, because Sam still has the knife. Sam refuses, but Hagai surprises them both by asking to fly with him. Unable to make the stone work himself, Sam agrees. Now Hagai, who grew up wanting nothing to do with sky'lers, is crew to one and fugitive from both pirates and police. Harrowed by visions of his own death, Hagai is nonetheless determined to change the future and find his mother, if she's still alive.

Infodumps

One of my favorite parts of writing sci-fi/fantasy is worldbuilding. I love drawing maps, brainstorming magic systems, writing legends, determining technologies... It's like playing Civ, except I can't lose.

The hard part is figuring out how to relay this information to the reader. The most common (and wrong) method I see, both in my writing and others, is the infodump. Where the story just stops, and we have to read a page or two of the history of the Elven nation, or a treatise on the Foobarian language, or a detailed explanation of teleportation technology.

It's not our fault. Our favorite authors do it all the time. Like every chapter in Asimov's Foundation and Empire starts with an infodump, and don't even get me started on Tolkien.

Even so, we're told not to do it, or not to do it very much, or to do it in such a way that the reader doesn't realize we're doing it. How do we do that?

One way, I think, is to work with the reader strictly on a need-to-know basis. Don't tell them anything about the world except what they need to know to understand this part of the story. If the entire story takes place on a single planet, don't talk about the history of the Galactic Empire's colonization efforts. Don't describe the detailed rules of magic if the protagonist never has to think of them. Don't discuss the fishing habits of Tartarians just because the protagonist gets on a boat.

It's hard, I know. We spent all this time building this world, and we can't share it with the reader. Sorry, but it's true. The reader doesn't care about the details of our world. They care about the characters and the story. If they love them, then maybe they'll be interested in the world, but usually not the other way around.

It means some things will never be shared. Or maybe they'll only ever be shared in an appendix or on your blog. But it means the story will be shared, and isn't that the main thing?