Category: publishing

September 23, 2019 / 3 Comments

Getting Paid To Do It

A funny title, yeah, but I freely admit I’m kinda lifting it from a somewhat-similarly themed book by Peter Lefcourt and Laura J Shapiro.

Look, nobody likes talking about this sort of stuff. It makes us all feel a bit uneasy, because our Puritan ancestors beat this sort of thing into us so hard we’re all still feeling it 400 years later. “Money is the root of all evil! Hard work is its own reward! Money won’t buy you happiness!” I’ll be honest—I’m aware of all of this, this kinda societal indoctrination—and I’m still feeling kinda weird sitting here writing about it.

A lot of folks are talking about this right now and I think that’s good. Different facets of this topic keep coming up to the surface every few months it seems, and a few versions have been bouncing around the internet just the past week or two. It’s like the little dodecahedron inside a Magic 8-Ball, and every time we swirl it a new face pops up in the window and says something along the lines of IF YOU WERE A REAL ARTIST THE MONEY WOULDN’T MATTER

So let’s toss the Magic 8-Ball aside for now (you know we’re just going to pick it up again—they’re always so tempting) and try to have an honest talk about art and money. Because there’s a number of folks on both sides of the artist/audience line that have kinda… skewed views on, well, doing it for money.

One thing we don’t talk about is the fact that a lot of the art that gets created is inevitably shaped by financial factors. I know a ton of artists. Comic artists, painters, sculptors, actors, singers, and yeah a ton of writers of all types.  Fiction writers of pretty much any genre you can think of, screenwriters, playwrights… I’m even really good friends with a published poet.

A truly stunning thing these folks all have in common is that they’re real people. Just like the people you see on the street and work with. Artists have all sorts of bills to pay. Rents and mortgages. Utilities. Credit cards. Car repairs. Groceries. Medical bills (with and without coverage). A fair number of them have kids! I don’t, but I’m guessing  kids cost at least as much as cats, money-wise, so… wow.  So, like everybody else, artists have to make some of our decisions based on how much is in the bank.

Now, to be very clear right up front, I’m not saying any of my friends or acquaintances don’t care about art. These people love what they do, they care how things turn out, they want the things they create to be amazing.  And they turn out some amazing stuff and they (deservedly) make money off it.

Which is something a lot of people don’t get. This isn’t a binary thing. I can care about the art AND think about the money. Cause the truth is, if I’m going to do this—especially as any sort of job or career—money’s going to be a factor in my decision making process. It’s unavoidable. We can talk about the muse all you want, but at the end of the day, artists have to pay the bills just like everybody else.

There’s a Richard Matheson quote many of you have heard me mangle at some point or another– “Writing is art,  publishing is the business of selling as many copies of that art as possible.”  The minute I’m dealing with publishing—traditional publishing, self publishing, hybrid, small press, whatever—I’m talking about business. and business means money is changing hands and certain expectations need to be met.

Money’s a huge factor in self publishing because… well, I’m the publisher. That’s the money side of the equation. Copyedits, layouts, cover art, marketing—it all costs money if I want it done right.  And if this is about the art, I want to do it right, don’t I? Which means I’m probably starting my self-publishing venture at a loss.

Even when things are going great in traditional publishing, money’s a factor.  I’ve gone to an editor with three or four things I’d like to write and they’ve said “Well… we’ll pay you X for this one, or 5X for that one.” I ask you, kind reader, if you had the choice between a six month job that pays you $10/hour or a six month job that pays $50/hour, and they’re both jobs you’re interested in… which one are you going to pick?

I know which one I picked when I got stuck with that choice. This is my job. This is how I earn money for all those bills and expenses. So I made a choice and I got to write a story I really wanted to write and get paid for it. And the other one… I didn’t write.”But isn’t that what Kickstarters and Patreon are for? So you can just make any art you want?” says random internet user twenty two, cleverly countering me.

Well… sort of.  I don’t have a Patreon, but, I feel reasonably sure if I started one I could get a couple folks backing me for a buck or two. People who want to see me write more books and stories they like in the genres they like.

Which is kinda the catch. These folks would be sponsoring me because they want to see more of this weird cross-genre stuff I write. I back maybe a dozen people on Patreon, and I can honestly say that there isn’t one of them where I said “the past is irrelevant—I want to see what completely different thing they do next!”  I’m not against them doing new things, but the simple truth is I sponsored all of them because I liked their work and thought “I hope they’ll keep doing this.” I bet most of you are the same way with anyone you back.  If I thanked my hypothetical patrons tomorrow and announced that now I can finally write the Mediterranean romance trilogy I’ve always dreamed of… well, I wouldn’t be too shocked if that patron count dropped a bit over the next month  or so.  Sure, some folks would stay, absolutely. But most of them… they’re understandably going to move on and find something they like.

Same with a Kickstarter—it’s for one specific thing. If I tell you I’m doing a Kickstarter for X, I can’t change my mind and deliver Y. So it’s soooort of artistic freedom.  I can try something and hope people want to back it.  But I’m not really deciding what I get to do. I’m throwing options out there and letting other people choose for me.Sooooooo yeah. Financial considerations, again.

And, to be very clear–I’m NOT saying Kickstarter or Patreon are bad things. They’re fantastic things. They let a lot of artists do a lot of work they otherwise wouldn’t get to do. But using them doesn’t mean these artists are suddenly free of any and all financial constraints on their art.

There are costs to making art.  Always are, always have been.  And a lot of artists never recoup those costs. And waaaayy too many people think they shouldn’t. Think they’re bad artists for even wanting to make money. Or asking for money. Where the hell do I get off, hoping for some sort of compensation for that thing I spent six months of my life working on?

”Well, I don’t mind suffering a bit for my art and giving up a few hours of sleep!” says random internet user number seventeen. That’s cool. You do you. But the simple truth is, if that’s my path it’s eventually going to affect my health, which will mean medical expenses, which brings us back to… money. And probably time, too. Which means it cuts into the art.

And let’s have a moment of frank honesty. There are some folks who loudly insist “the money doesn’t matter” because… well, they’re not making any money. So this becomes kind of a well-padded moral armor for them. “I haven’t failed or been rejected— I just care more about the ART than about your filthy lucre.”

Look, the point I’m trying to make is… don’t be any of these people.  Don’t berate artists for wanting to make a living. Don’t mock them for having financial concerns. Don’t come up with elaborate justifications not to pay them for their work (83% of which always seem to be some twisted logic to justify piracy).

If I’m an artist… I shouldn’t be ashamed that I took a job because I needed the money. Or because it just paid more. It doesn’t make me any less of an artist.  Artists all through history took paid gigs and commissions to put food on the table, and they still did some of their best work with them. Likewise, I shouldn’t feel bad about walking away from a job because, one way or another, I couldn’t afford to do it (financially or time-wise). Yeah, even if it’s something I may have really wanted to do. We’ve all had to pass on fun projects because, in the end, they were going to hurt way more than help.

And being an artist shouldn’t mean hurting myself.

Anyway… that’s my clumsy, scattershot thoughts on money.

Next time… well, we talked about getting paid to do it. So I guess next time we should address if you’re getting it or not.

Until then, go write.

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March 13, 2019

This Little Piggy Went to Market

            A couple folks have asked me questions related to marketing over the past few weeks, so I thought it’d be worth going over a couple things about this.
            There’s a wonderful Richard Matheson quote that Jonathan Maberry related to me a few years back.  If you’ve gone to either of the SoCal Writers Coffeehouses and listened to us speak (well, Jonathan speaks, I kinda babble on a lot until I run out of breath), you’ve probably heard it three or four times.  Writing is art, publishing is the business of selling as many copies of that art as possible.
            Marketing, big surprise, is part of publishing.  It’s a very necessary part of publishing, whether I’m doing it myself, with a small press, or I’m the favorite author at a Big Five imprint.  It’s how people discover I’ve got something to sell.
            Marketing can take a lot of forms.  It’s everything from me posting the new cover on Twitter to your book being plastered on the side of a bus.  It’s the copy on the back of the book and me summing it up in two lines for you at a convention.
            But the sole point of it, in all these examples, is to sell books.
            And sometimes… this can create some conflicts with the art side.

            As we move forward here, I’m sure some folks may try to read into this.  It isn’t a subtweet or an angry rant.  I’m not calling anyone out or absolving anyone of blame or any of that.  I’m just tossing out some facts.  Publishing is a business, and if I want to be successful in that business (and avoid a ton of stress), it helps to understand how it works.

            Also, I know there’s a fine line between marketing and publicity and I always mess it up, so please forgive me if I weave back and forth across that line once or thrice here.  I don’t think I’m ever going to end up in the other lane, but we may hear those bumpy lane divider once or thrice.
            Okay, so, if marketing is getting people to buy my book, how do I do that?  I can tell them the genre and see if it’s something they like.  Maybe the type of characters I use.  I can point out other books like it, or other storylines it may tie into.  I can even offer little summaries or excerpts to tease potential readers with.  Doesn’t this sound like a creepy/sexy/amazing/funny story?  You saw the dragon, right?  You know you like dragons.  And this one’s got a lightsaber.  Trust me, The Jedi of Krynn is the book you’ve been waiting your whole life for.
            But seriously…
            One of the big challenges here—the conflict between art and business—is how much do we tell?  How do we find that fine line between getting the sale and keeping the book enjoyable?  Tell too much and now all the book’s punch is already out there.  Don’t tell enough and… well, maybe nobody reads it at all.
            Do I mention every character in the book, even if some are supposed to be surprises?  Should I mention the big twist?  Should I hint at it?  Heck, sometimes even just naming the genre can be a bit of a spoiler.  And every spoiler saps a little bit of the story’s power… which lessens the chances for word-of-mouth sales.  Now my cool novel is just kind of a bland book with no real surprises in it.
            Sometimes what seem like simples questions can cause marketing headaches.  For example…
            (Some minor MCU spoilers coming at you)
            Does Ant Man & The Wasp tie into Avengers: Infinity War? 
            Simple question, right?  But how do you answer it?  If I say no, there’s a bunch of people who might skip it. Plus, I’m lying, which people will then call me out for and complain about.  If I say yes, people complain because… well, 99.5% of the film doesn’t tie in at all.  And that last half a percent… well, if I’m saying yes, I’m kinda spoiling that super-powerful reveal, aren’t I?  There really isn’t a good way to answer it.
            Of course, even not answering it at all can cause problems, because then people will speculate around that sort of “negative space” left by the non-answer.  They’ll read into things, make assumptions, and develop expectations.  And these expectations will either be correct, in which case…  well, they’re acting like spoilers again.  Or they’re incorrect, and now people are upset because the expectations they went in with aren’t being met, no matter what the actual story is (or how good it is).
            There’s another angle here, too.  One you’ve probably heard before.  People like series.  They like them a lot, if you look at sales records. To be honest, publishers like them, too.  Editors love to see a new book with series potential.  And spin off potential.  And tie-in potential.
            But here’s another catch.  People want to know how all this stuff fits together.  They want to know if something is canon or set on Earth-23 or Earth 15 but stillcanon or does this involve Wakko before or after his cybernetic upgrades?  Because let’s face it—there’s no point reading any of the stories before he became bionic, right?  Why even bother?
            So when things don’t fall into a neat A-B-C, 1-2-3pattern, it’s not unusual for marketing to just… well, kind of wing it.  Like, okay, how would you number the Star Wars films (or all the novelizations and spin off books)?  By the order they came out?  That won’t make much sense.  By the order they fit in the story?  That means A New Hope: Episode IV is actually movie six.   And how does that work if they do a new prequel story?  Do we re-number everything?  Do we just number some things but not others?  I saw the novelization of Rogue One listed once as Star Wars: Book 18, and I have no clue what that’s supposed to mean.
            Sure, we could leave them unnumbered but… well, that could cost sales, too.  Some folks don’t like reading a series until it’s done, and if I don’t say it’s a trilogy or whatever, well… maybe they’ll never pick it up at all.  So I probably need some kind of designation if I want these to sell, right?
            Or do I?
            Plus… sometimes explaining where things fit in can be a spoiler.  We thought this story was in the future, but it’s actually in the past.  We thought it was here on Earth but it’s actually on the mirror-universe world of Urth.  And that puts us back at… well, what do we tell?  How do we keep the book enjoyable while also getting people to buy it?
            It’s a mess.  Seriously.  And everyone’s clawing their way through trying to find a balance that preserves the art but still serves the business.  Everyone knows you can’t pick one over the other, but every single book (or movie or television show) becomes a new attempt at finding that balance point.  The guidelines we use for my book won’t work for yours. 
            And it doesn’t help when some folks, deliberately or not, muddle things even more.  We’ll play up the mention of that character or the appearance of that plot thread. I’ve seen things described as romances because of one thin subplot, or spiritual because someone prays at some point (I won’t tell you what they were praying for…)  I’ve mentioned before how for a while any book or movie with a somehow-superhuman character was billed as a superhero story.  These are the things that make people grumble about marketing, and make marketing folks grumble about people who just follow buzzwords.
            Anyway…
            I just thought it was worth tossing this out.  Mostly because a few folks have complained long and hard about the marketing for Dead Moon.  I’ve tried to address some of these things for, oh, eight or nine months nowbut… well, as I’ve been saying, some complaints are inevitable, no matter what. 
            But also partly because, like I said in the beginning, this is stuff worth knowing and thinking about.
            And I’m sure there will be some more thoughts down in the comments.
            Next time—like, tomorrow—some thoughts on dialogue.
            Until then, go write.
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November 3, 2016 / 2 Comments

Democracy In Action!

            On this particular Thursday, it seemed like talking about voting could be an interesting idea.
            One thing I did all the time when I was starting out—well, once I’d become brave enough to show my writing to anyone past my mom—was to get as many opinions as possible.  If I had enough, I’d count them up like votes.  And I would do whatever they said.  If someone—anyone—wanted this line or that element changed, I’d change it.  Or remove it.  Or add in something new.  Anyone else’s thoughts were just as valid as mine.
            This happened to me again about thirteen years ago, just before I started doing this full time.  Slightly different direction, though.  Believe it or not, I ghost-wrote an exercise book.  This woman was very smart and savvy about exercise and the specialized niche she wanted to write toward… not so much about writing and publishing. So she hired me to help her out.  Alas, she kept talking about the book with her friends and fellow fitness professionals, showing them half-finished drafts, and taking everyone’s opinion as scientific fact.  So we rewrote the book again.  And again.  And again.  Not drafts, mind you.  Complete, start-from-scratch rewrites.  I think it went through six or seven major revisions before I had to bow out just for time reasons. And she still didn’t have much more than a first draft of her book.
            It was frustrating, but I couldn’t really fault her.  Like I said, I used to do it, too.  I think most people do when we’re starting out and looking for assurance.
            Really, it makes sense to do it that way. It’s what we’ve all been taught, right?  Democracy in action.  Let people vote on something, go with the majority.
            Except…
            Writing is not a democracy.  I’m a benevolent dictator at best.  An angry god at worst.
            Now, before anyone gets too excited about being a dictator…
            I’m not saying I’ll never, ever listen to other opinions.  I have some great beta readers I really trust.  I have a seriously fantastic editor who’s much, much better at spotting flaws than I am.  It doesn’t mean their opinions or suggestions are always right, but I’d be foolish not to at least look at them and consider them.
            At the end of the day, though… what my story needs is up to me.  I’m the one crafting and telling it. Every line of dialogue, every subtle character nuance, every beautiful piece of imagery, every clever plot twist.  It all comes from me.  If a dozen people think I need to get rid of the wine bottle scene but I think it’s vital and memorable, I get the last say.
            And I needto make that decision.  Opinions are great, but as the dictator the final decision is nobody’s but mine.  If I’m going to put things on hold waiting for a consensus or a clear majority… that just makes me a figurehead.
            This also holds for what I’m writing about.  If I just want to write to entertain myself—that’s great.  If I want to fill my story with in-jokes that only ten people on Earth are going to get, that’s also my choice.  I can deliberately focus my book on neo-con, government-hating survivalists or tree-hugging, socialist liberals—and absolutely nobody can say I’m wrong!  This is mystory.  Mine.
            However…
            This doesn’t mean anyone will want to read my story.  Or buy it.  Just because I’m staying true to myself and my vision–only bending where I feel I absolutely must—doesn’t mean my story is going to appeal to anyone else.  And some of those people it may not appeal to are editors.  Under other circumstances, they might be interested and willing to work with me, but if I’m not going to bend at all on that wine bottle scene…  Well, it’s not going to be their fault I didn’t make a sale.
            Plus… Let’s face it, I’m not going to please everyone, no matter what choice I make.  I’ve mentioned before that every story has a limited audience.   Sometimes a very limited one.  That’s the problem with leading—even as a benevolent dictator—the best you can ever hope for is a “greater good” situation.  There will always be people with no interest in the topic or genre, readers who just don’t like it.  Hop over to Amazon and check out well-established American classics like East of Eden or To Kill A Mockingbird.  Look at something newer like The Martian.  Heck, pick your favorite Harry Potter book.  All of these are unquestionably critical and financial successes with, I feel safe saying, hundreds of millions of fans each… but look how many one-star reviews they have.
            Y’see, Timmy, at the end of the day, nobody knows what my story needs but me.  It’s all mine. That’s the art part of it.  There is no democracy.  That’s where I get to be a dictator.
            But once I decide I want to put my writing out there, that I want an audience, that I’d like to get paid… Well, we’re not talking about being a dictator anymore. Now we’re talking about politics. We’re talking about compromises. We’re talking about tweaking my vision to appeal to a greater audience, even when it doesn’t appeal to me quite as much anymore.  Maybe not quite as great a good, but still a “very good” that reaches a lot more people.
            That’s the balancing act.
            Real quick before I wrap up, I’m going to be up in Tacoma, Washington this weekend for the Jet City Comic Show.  If you’re in the area, please stop by, say hi, and tell me how this blog is just a huge waste of time for everyone involved.
            Next time, I want to talk about something cool.
            Until then, go write.
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February 18, 2016

My Dream Woman

First, before I forget…  Folks in the Los Angeles area, this weekend is the Writers Coffeehouse. Sunday, noon to three, at Dark Delicacies in Burbank. It’s free and it’s open to writers of all levels—from bare-bones beginners to seasoned professionals, and even a few mid-list hacks like myself.  Stop by, ask questions, have fun.

Speaking of writing advice…

This week I wanted to prattle on for a moment about one of those off-topics I tend not to talk about much.  It’s more of a mindset, and it applies to writers of prose and scripts alike.  I’ll give you a hint—it’s not a good mindset to have.

Let me toss out a hypothetical situation for you.  More exact, a hypothetical person.  I’ll call her Phoebe.  If you want to substitute a different name or gender, please go right ahead.

Just for the record, I have never known a Phoebe. I know two or three folks who’ve changed their names, and they weren’t a Phoebe before or after. That’s why it’s one of my four fallback names I use here all the time (the other three belonging to the Animaniacs). If I randomly referred to a woman in one of these examples as Colleen, Becky, Jennifer, or Katie, for example… I would get many calls/messages from people I know asking “is this supposed to be me?”

So… Phoebe.

Phoebe is, for the record, my dream woman. She’s what every man aspires to in a significant other. Smart.  Funny.  Kind.  Sexy.  Gorgeous. I can’t think of anything I’ve wanted more than to be with Phoebe. Feel free to take “be with” any way you like–you’ll be right.  She is, in all ways, perfect.

Well, perfect might be overstating it.

Just a bit.

To be honest, she could use one tiny improvement in the facial region. Her chin is kind of sharp. Makes her face a bit too triangular and pointy. A rounded chin would bring out her cheeks and her smile more.

Also… slight overbite.  You can’t really notice it until you’re close to her.  That’s when you can also see one of her incisors has this little twist to it.  Nothing braces couldn’t fix, though.  Maybe those transparent ones.  Invisalign?  Something like that.

Plus, she’d be much hotter if her hair was a bit lighter.  And not so long.  If she was more of a platinum blonde, Phoebe would be unbelievably hot.  So really she’s just a haircut and a box of dye away from being my perfect woman.

Speaking of which—please don’t judge me for this—Phoebe is a touch on the small side. Not flat, by any means, and they’re nicely formed. Really nice.  I’m not talking about anything grotesque, mind you, but something in a B-cup would give her an absolutely killer figure.

Again, though, that’s minor. Really minor. Heck, I think it’s just outpatient surgery these days.

Y’know, thinking about it, if she wore some nicer clothes, it’d help show off that figure, too.  Everything Phoebe owns is that kind of frumpy-baggy look.  It was kind of cute in college, but come on.  Dress up a bit now and then.  Would it be so wrong to wear something eye-catching?  Once we’re together, I’ll take her on a nice shopping spree before we go out anywhere.

Although I don’t know where we’ll go out.  We don’t have many of the same interests. She can’t stand superhero movies.  Or shows.  Or books (which is a bit of a sore spot).  I’ll work on that, get her to watch something better and stop subjecting me to that crap stuff she likes to watch.

And, I mean… I sit in a chair nine hours a day and she makes me look kind of athletic. She’s still got that young metabolism, lets her eat half a pizza before bed and she actually wakes up weighing less than she did the night before.  That’s not going to last forever.

At least, with that body—well, the potential body we’re talking about—the sex will be worth it.

As long as she doesn’t make that same weird noise she makes when she’s excited. That sound creeps me out.

Still my dream girl, though, and I’d love to be with her—in any sense of the phrase.

So, at this point I can guess what a lot of you are thinking.  Why the hell is Phoebe my dream girl? She sounds like a good, solid person as she is, but it’s pretty apparent she’s not what I’m looking for, despite my insistence that I want to be with her. I mean, why would anyone want to be involved with someone just to change everything about them?

Which… is the point I wanted to make.

Between this ranty blog, conventions, signings, Twitter, Facebook, the Coffeehouse I mentioned up above… I meet a lot of writers. Several of them are so far past me I’m astonished when they strike up a conversation. A couple…I think it’s safe for me to say I’m on the same level as them.

Most of them are beginners, though. Maybe they’ve got a small sale under their belt, but often not even that much. You probably know some folks like this, yes? Maybe you’re one of them. These folks will talk about how much they want to be writers, how it’s been a lifelong dream to see their name on a shelf in a bookstore, or to hear actors reciting their dialogue.  There’s nothing they want more, and they’ll do whatever it takes, to make that dream become a reality.

However…

Just after this, some of these folks follow it up by explaining how biased and unfair the publishing industry is. Or maybe listing off all the things that are wrong with Hollywood.  Don’t even get these folks started on agents. Agents of all types need to be a lot more open, especially considering they usually do nothing and then take a cut of your money.

Or maybe they swing the other way.  Perhaps they’ll  point out how much self-publishers are screwing things for everybody. It’s not even real publishing, right?  They’re just oversaturating the markets with all their crap and making it harder for good stuff—my stuff—to get noticed.

As a finale, these people will announce all the things they’d change about the industry.  All the things they’re going to change once they’re in that position of power.  In fact, the industry’s changing now and they’d better watch out!  We don’t need any of those dinosaurs anymore, right?!

By what I’m sure is a complete coincidence, very, very few of these people have ever sold a book. Or a screenplay. Or a short story.

Which only shows how corrupt and broken the system is and why it needs to be fixed. Right?

Y’see, Timmy, I can’t go into any sort of relationship thinking I’ll be the one to change her! Or him. Or them, if I’m feeling adventurous. Those relationships are always doomed one way or another. Either they fail horribly or they “succeed” with one person or the other becomes a twisted, compromised version of themselves (and probably hating the other person for it).

Likewise, I can’t expect to have any sort of success in the publishing world or in Hollywood if I’m starting from the mindset of “they’re all wrong.”  Definitely not if it’s my main focus.  It’s no different than my mad pursuit of Phoebe just so I can change everything about her.  I’m either looking for a relationship or I’m looking for someone to be my Eliza Doolittle-esque test subject.

My main focus as a writer should be (ready for this?) my writing. It needs to be my main concern. It’s very good to know about different forms of publishing, about marketing and networking and social media… but first and foremost, I’m a writer. Personally, when someone introduces themselves as a writer and the first thing they want to talk about is everything wrong with traditional publishing… I get a little cautious.

What’s your first concern? Do you want to date Phoebe… or do you just want everything on your terms?

Next time…

Oh, almost forgot! This Tuesday, Ex-Isle is finally out on audiobook after delays that are pretty solidly my fault. And they brought back the whole cast for the production. Check it out!

So… next time, if I may, I’d like to talk about your purpose.

Until then… go write.

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