This is a Guest Post from Tracey Sinclair, Auithor of the Cassandra Bick Chronicles
I had my first novel published nearly 6 years ago. With
spectacularly bad timing – though obviously I can take no blame for this – it
came out on the day of the London bombings, so my jubilation at finally seeing
my name on a book was understandably overshadowed by more pressing concern for
the devastation of my beloved city. My second book, a collection of short
stories, luckily had a happier entry into the world, complete with a
wine-fuelled, well-attended launch at a central London art gallery, after which
I assumed that literary fame and the accompanying riches were mine for the
taking.
Which, of course, is how most writers feel when their books
come out, only to quickly realise, at least for the most part, that it’s
devilishly difficult to make real money from your writing, and even with a
couple of books to your name, you can’t quit the day job just yet. But, in some ways, I didn’t care – I was very good at my
day job and in no hurry to quit it, and I was proud enough that, after years of
on-off publication in magazines and anthologies, finally if you looked me up on
Amazon, there I would be. (Admittedly, that had always been the case – there’s
a prolific romantic novelist called Tracy Sinclair, which has led to some
entertaining misunderstandings over the years– but this time the books you
found would at least have a 50-50 chance of actually being mine). My friends were delighted and supportive, and although my
publisher was a small press with a limited budget so my marketing budget was
very low, I felt in some crucial way I had made it. I was finally an author!
Fast forward a few years, and the day job had started to
pall, so I went back to my old career of freelance writing. I’d also got bored
of ‘literary’ fiction (as my previous work could probably be classed) and decided
to write something I could have fun with: an urban fantasy novel. Admittedly, I
wanted to make it MY kind of urban fantasy novel – tired of the teenage swoons
of Twilight and its impersonators, I wanted a feminist heroine, with actual
female friends, and a cast of characters that reflected the different cultural
make up and varying sexualities of my adopted city. It clearly wasn’t a fit for
my existing publisher – and besides, I wanted to embrace the new possibilities
of the digital world, in which I was now so active. So after sending out queries
to a few agents and getting tired of the same ‘vampires are over’ response, I
thought, sod it, and put the book out myself.
Now, I didn’t just chuck it together: I enlisted a beta team
of readers to make it the best it could be, a publishing expert to do the
cover, and I had it professionally formatted. I have over 20 years of writing
and editing experience: I’m not a novice at this. I know it’s not perfect – in
retrospect I would hire a proofer next time, as the odd typo has slipped
through, proving the old adage that you can never edit your own work. (Though,
since standards in traditional publishing are increasingly shonky due to cost
cutting – I recently read a Harper Collins book that referred to Henry VIII’s siblings Edward, Mary and Elizabeth I –
I think it holds up relatively well). I was ready to face the world! I knew
that marketing it would be tough, and a lot of work, but I was ready for that.
What surprised me though was the amount of hostility and downright suspicion
that being an indie author attracts.
Don’t get me wrong: I have dealt with a huge amount of very
lovely bloggers and reviewers, and I’m convinced they represent the majority.
But the amount of sniffiness that some people in the field have towards indie
authors is astonishing: there seems to be a preconception that being an indie
author will mean that you likely can’t spell, can’t write, can’t deal with any
level of criticism without becoming a raging lunatic who will retaliate in a
personal manner… the list goes on. Well-established authors – perhaps
threatened by the success stories of indie authors (who, after all, get a much
better percentage of royalties) have implied that being an indie author means
you’re not only not good enough to get published, but you’re probably lazy as
well (yes, Sue Grafton, I’m looking at you, and I love you so you’ve broken my
heart a little).
Now of course, if you’re a blogger, and you’re doing this
for nothing, you have an absolute right to say, ‘no, bog off, I’m only
interested in reading or promoting a certain type of book’ – it’s your time,
your blog and your decision (I’m a blogger myself and I don’t take on any
reviews at all, preferring the freedom to comment on what I like, at random). But
there are ways of doing that without sounding like you’re sneering at the whole
concept of indie publishing, or being snippy in public forums about people
whose only crime is to produce something you, personally, aren’t keen on reading.
And, certainly, some ‘authors’ (and I use the term loosely, because I’ve seen
the quality of some of their posts and it casts serious aspersions on any claim
to being a writer) should be ashamed of themselves for the way they have
behaved towards bloggers who have dared not to give glowing endorsements to
their books. But as just this week we’ve seen two different mainstream authors
unmasked for using ‘sock puppet’ Amazon accounts to denigrate their rivals’
books, being published is clearly no bar to bad behaviour, so why should indie
authors be the only ones who get tarred with the insanity brush?
The publishing industry is changing: the big money is
increasingly commanded by celebrities, and being picked up by a mainstream
publishing house no longer holds a guarantee of success. More and more
self-published authors are out-earning their competitors, recognising that with
the right books and sales pitch, they don’t need to be handing over a big cut
of their earnings to an agent and publisher. I think we should celebrate the
fact that there are fewer barriers to entry in a market that has over the last
few years become risk averse and stagnant, and I think that bloggers who are
genuinely interested in unearthing good books should be open to where those
books are can come from. I also think that we, as an online, book loving
community, should foster a zero tolerance policy towards authors who harass
bloggers or retaliate against reviewers, or who maliciously slur the works of
their rivals. This isn’t a battlefield: it shouldn’t be published authors
versus unpublished authors, or writers versus bloggers. In the end, aren’t we
all on the same side – the side that loves books?
Blog:
http://bodyofageekgoddess.blogspot.co.uk
Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GHSr62IFfg&feature=youtu.be