The Accidental Publisher

Yeah, there are reasons . . .

Yeah, there are reasons why literary agents and publishers (commercial, trade publishers) do things the way they do.

One literary agent friend of mine explained a while back why she sends only a bare-bones rejection letter: to prevent getting into a long, unfruitful, and potentially acrimonious back-and-forth with the disappointed writer.

As I edge toward more serious publishing than I have done before -- only edge into it, mind you, and not with plans to overextend myself or my finances -- the more obvious it becomes that it is essential to require a a basic query (short and to the point) or at most a sample + synopsis + summary of the would-be author's promotional plans and platform(s). The fact is (and here I am borrowing a riff from another agent friend), I am going to reject most queries/proposals, and I want to do it quickly.

If aspiring authors want to get into more of a discussion (post-rejection), it will have to be on the clock with a nonrefundable retainer paid (and check clearing) in advance. If I am going to even think seriously about publishing a book (normal, royalty-paying arrangement in which I pay all publishing expenses for the book) I need to be sure that (a) the author is someone I can work with productively and cordially, (b) the author can in fact write well enough for publication, (c) the manuscript meets a reasonable standard for publishing BEFORE I even commit to editing it for publishing, and (d) that there is a reasonable, demonstrated likelihood that the book will sell enough copies to readers to turn a net profit (considering both my out-of-pocket costs and my time/effort/opportunity costs).

Too many folks have completely unjustified expectations about their manuscripts, and some quickly become time sinks if allowed to do so.

A few years of learning experiences have had results.

If I knew then . . .

If I knew five years ago, or even three, what I know now, I would have done a lot of things differently -- and I hope better.  I wish I could know now what I will know in three or five years. For sure, I will know a lot more then, and it will affect what I do and how I do it and what I charge for my services and what projects I take on and what projects I decline immediately.

A current learning experience pertains to a book I've been editing on speculation (that is, without insisting on a substantial part of the fee in advance of doing the work). The author is pulling the old "the check is in the mail" (well, the check WILL be in the mail) routine, after I declined his offer to pay only after I'd completed the work. (Tedious, time-consuming, exacting work.) He's tried to cut costs, in ways that will probably end up increasing his costs and diminishing his results. If the check does not show up by Thursday -- and at that I am giving him an extra day -- I'll fire him as a client (nicely, but firmly) and block his email and not take his calls. I can refund payment for services that do not meet the need (and I have done that in the past), but cannot get a refund on time spent on dead-end projects.

Soon, after the initial one-hour consultation, I'll require a sizeable check -- and clearance of that check -- before investing another minute.

And now, the Secret Handshake for Lightning Source

I'm mailing off the last pieces of the Lightning Source account application (documentation for income and sales tax purposes) today. I'd already completed the process online, a several-day effort, much more complicated and demanding than signing up for a Lulu.com or Createspace account. LS is in a different league.

Having completed the process, I now have the Secret Handshake that provides pricing information (per unit, per page, by book size and type). They hold that information pretty close to the vest, as LS is particular about who it signs up. Clients must have ISBNs in the publishing-company name and must verify that they can meet LS's requirements for digital files, and must provide a host of other information.

Now to experiment with a non-critical project (real, but relatively low-risk) to try out the process and make sure that my files are in fact right. I want that sort of project done and delivered before publishing a higher profile, higher stakes book. That is how I started with Lulu, albeit in that case with some throw-away projects of no consequence. Then step by step I improved my practices.

Experiential learning. It's a good thing.

Bit the bullet . . . or a few bullets

As I slink, little by little, more toward commercial publishing (still on a very small scale and with risk-limiting options), I find expenses growing. Office space, for one, of course, so I'm not trying to do everything from my home. But also . . .

• A block of ISBNs from Bowker (they are not cheap)
• Photoshop CS5 (the full Photoshop, which does things that have been omitted from the much less expensive Photoshop Elements -- notably the ability to use the CYMK color scheme, as opposed to RGB, in order to meet the requirements of Lightning Source and commercial printers.
• Adobe Acrobat X Pro (in order to write the specific PDF format required by Lightning Source)

Lulu.com has been entirely satisfied -- or apparently so -- with the PDFs I have been producing, and with RGB color scheme for covers. Lightning Source says NO WAY, though -- quite emphatically -- mandating the new software if I am going to be able to use LS's services.

So . . . after putting off those software purchases for years, getting by with low-end products (including a $9.95 PDF generator and Photoshop Elements) it was time to get out the business credit card and bite the bullet.