A few years back, I was a guest at various Renaissance Fairs. It
was a wonderful way to sell my books. I didn’t have to pay the 40-50% fee that
bookstores charge for putting my books on the shelf, so I kept more of the
profits. The only drawback was that they like you to be in costume.
John, one of the other vendors who had also purchased a copy of my
books, mentioned that he thought Prophecy of the Flame would be perfect at a
convention called ConCarolina. He knew the director and promised to put in a good word for me.
Not knowing what a “Con” was, I went home and began researching.
Cons are what fans are referred to at Sci-Fi conventions. At the
time, the ConCarolina home page proudly announced that both Star Fleet and the
Klingons would be attending. They also had Stargate, and many other Science
Fiction and Fantasy shows, whose fans would be setting up booths.
The price for a convention table was a little steep so I decided
to bring a friend who could sell her jewelry from my table in order to share
expenses - after all, I only had one book, and it didn’t take up that much
space.
I used my usual book signing techniques:
·
I never sat
unless I was signing.
·
I
approached people as they walked past and handed them my flyer.
·
I
introduced myself and let them know I was doing a signing.
After a while, I approached a group of normal looking people, flyer
in hand, and tried introducing myself. “Hi, I’m Lynn Hardy. Do you happen…” was
as far as I got in my spiel. The group shook their heads vigorously, backing
quickly away. Surprised, I shrugged off the reaction – it was the first time
anyone seemed offended by my mild approach.
A few minutes later I approached a pretty blonde, flyer in hand. “Hi,
I’m Lynn Hardy. I’m doing a book signing…” Again, I got the same type of
reaction as she thrust out her hands, hustling to the far side of the room to
join the others who had shunned me.
A few minutes later, a table was set up right next to mine with
its own assortment of books. I tried making conversation with the guy doing the
work but he wasn’t very talkative: he even refused to tell me what he did for a
living!
As the event coordinator came by, I learned that the people who
had avoided me were traditionally published authors, and the closed-mouth
fellow next to me was the husband of one of those authors. Apparently, it
seemed that they didn’t want to associate themselves with a self-published
author, such as myself.
On the last day of this three-day convention, the guest of
honor (a very prolific and well-known author), sat down at the table next to me
in order to do his own book signing. Absolutely no fans were around.
Bored, he picked up one of my books and asked me who had published
it. I told him that I had started my own publishing company. He tossed it
on the table dismissively, "You're not published--no one is paying you to
write, you are paying yourself."
I nodded my head, agreeing with him, wishing I was published at
Tor, Baen or Daw. It was slow, so we began chatting. As an icon of
the science fiction written word, he let me in on some of the proper ways of
getting published:
·
Find an
agent (a difficult task).
·
Have them
submit you to publishing companies (usually takes 1-2 years).
·
Attend
conventions and get to know agents, publishers, and other authors in order to
find sponsors.
It occurred to me that I hadn't returned my room keys for
checkout. I excused myself. Before racing back into the convention, I waited
for a moment at the door in order to catch my breath. As I strode calmly toward my table, I watched the author
hurriedly put my book back down. I'll never forget the first thing he
said about my writing.
He turned to me and proclaimed, "You have a typo in your
first paragraph."
I nodded my head in agreement. "I'm mortified by this
book. I paid an editor $1400, and it’s still loaded with typos."
This led to a half hour lecture on how, as an author, we are
responsible for our own work. I picked up the first edition of the teen version
of my book and opened it to the first page. "I feel the same way; it is,
after all, my name on the cover. I have already corrected that one and
many others."
After reading to make sure I had caught it, he looked at me and
said, "You should submit your book to my publisher; they publish a lot of
stuff along these lines."
After that, I sent my book (along with a nice query letter) to one
of the largest publishers of Science Fiction and Fantasy in the nation. The
owner had actually asked to see it! Seven months later, at another convention,
I was disappointed to learn that this publishing company was struggling to stay
afloat. They weren’t printing anything that wasn’t written by a bestselling
author. The nice “not at this time” letter I receive two months latter was not
a huge surprise.
Let
me close by saying this:
I
have read many self-published books, kind of like Authonomy’s policy of trading
reviews. Many are great, many lack
a good edit (mine included) and many should have never been printed. Is
self-publishing worth it?
The
key word in self-publishing is "self." You must not only be a good businessman, but a good marketing
agent as well. It's a full time job, and if by some small miracle you do get
the attention of the nationwide publishers, make sure you are ready. There is a
format you have to follow.
When
“Eragon” was picked up after self-publishing. At that time, trade publishers
wanted to see if a book could sell 5,000-10000 copies before they would take a
look. A couple of years ago, an author I know was rejected because she had sold
7,000 copies and had “saturated the market.”
Because
of this, and many more experiences, I have decided a new type of publishing is
needed. BAM! Publishing – founded by
an author, for authors. We have signed traditionally published authors, looking
for more control and more profits from their books. Some of our books on the
shelves of Barnes & Noble, just like the Big Five publishers. Stop by and
see if BAM! Publishing is the right fit for you and your
book.
