Insights

To Self-Publish Or Not To Self-Publish

Isn’t it funny how the times change? Years ago someone would be crucified for suggesting writers self-publish their work. And those that actually self-published their own work, well, they were looked down upon as jokes. Nowadays though, with publishing being where it is in the barrel, self-publishing has become tolerated, if not almost accepted in some circles. Keep in mind when I say “self-publishing” I refer to those print-on-demand places that don’t charge an upfront fee but will publish the book for you and then give you a little (should I say tiny?) royalty based on how much the retail is set at.

As so many more publishers are going the POD route, what difference does it make if a writer is published by one of those or they decide to self-publish their own stuff?

Theoretically, the final product would be the same, wouldn’t it? I mean, assuming the person doing the self-publishing knows how to properly layout the text, can provide substantial cover art, etc. A publisher is supposed to back your work, help promote it, but let’s be honest here -- the bulk of promotion lies in the author’s corner anyway. The benefit of having a publisher back you is your book is more apt to get reviewed by respected magazines, might get decent distribution, though in terms of most small press publishers that still doesn't mean you'll end up in major bookstores.

Why am I bringing this up? Do I plan on self-publishing a novel or short story collection? No, not at all. But I’ve been thinking about my pet project, the novella I posted online and also uploaded to Kindle. As I mentioned before (either on this blog or the old one), the project was more an experiment than anything else. Yes, it’s always nice to make money, but the purpose of putting The Silver Ring online was to try to attract new readers. I do pretty much no self-promotion on the thing at all, but the website has been linked to enough places that there are visitors every day.

My initial plan was to do the PDF thing, the novella and a bonus short story for a donation of 99 cents, and while a decent amount of people have donated (thank you again, everyone!), it’s definitely nothing that will buy me a new car any time soon ... or even a clunker. But again, this thing was never about making money. Ultimately it’s about the reader, giving the reader what I hope is a good product.

Only, the more I started thinking about it, is a PDF copy really a good product?

In the end, what does one do with it? Read it on the computer, sure, or else they print it out. And once they print it out, then what? It’s not like you can put it on a bookcase, and even if you tried, what would be the point? It's not really tangible, something you can carry around and show people. No, of course not, so what happens to it? Most likely, it ends up in the trash.

When I launched the novella back in May, the whole Hint Fiction contest had been in full-swing, and then with everything in its wake the project sort of got put on a back-burner. But like I said I’ve been doing some thinking, mostly about self-publishing, and I’ve been playing around with the idea of releasing The Silver Ring as a digest-sized paperback. It would include the entire novella plus the bonus short story and host that great cover my friend Wyatt made for it (even better, it would hopefully be wrap around too). And, as this was never about making money, the plan would be to price it just above the manufacturing cost, so that it would be as cheap as it can be. Right now I’m thinking around eight bucks, and that would include domestic shipping (international shipping might be another dollar or two). I would limit it to 100 copies, signed and numbered, and could sell them directly from the main website -- otherwise, going through Lulu's online store and Amazon and elsewhere, the retail price would be more expensive to off-set their costs, and then you would have to pay shipping on top of that.

So I would really like to hear your thoughts. Not necessarily regarding my novella, but in general -- are you more apt to buy a book if it’s priced reasonably than you are a PDF? Are PDFs a waste of time? Are actual printed books a waste of time? Is the fact that a particular story -- like my novella -- completely free to read online make you less likely to purchase a copy of the book? Or do you not care at all?

Every reader is different, just like every writer is different. What works for (or appeals to) one, won’t work for (appeal to) another. It’s trying to find the balance that is the hard part, and truthfully, I don’t think there is a way to find it.

Of course, this is all speculation right now. Just throwing the idea out there. And please keep in mind that those who had originally purchased the PDF and would like to buy the book as well will have 99 cents factored out of the cost.

Now, as Martin Landau always says in Entourage, does that sound like something you might be interested in?

P.S. My official thoughts on self-publishing are the same as giving your work away for free -- I don't see a problem with it as long as you know exactly what you're doing (self-publishing or giving your work away for free) and have a damned good reason for doing it.

Story vs. Plot

This will most likely be the epigraph to the Hint Fiction anthology (major thanks to Stewart O'Nan for suggesting it in the first place):

"The king died and then the queen died," is a story.  "The king died and then the queen died of grief" is a plot.

What, I ask you, is the difference between the two? Well, the common argument is this the second "story" contains plot because of causality. It was because the king died that the queen died. She had loved him very much and died of grief for his passing.

Okay, the reason I wanted to bring that up is, ultimately, I don't care whether your Hint Fiction submission has plot. Obviously, it has to have something, some kind of substance, but I worry that too many people might over think their stories. (On the flip side, I worry that a number of people might under think their stories too.)

Remember, it's possible to write a self-sustained story in 25 words or less. You can probably even come up with a great one, too.

But that's not what I'm looking for for this anthology.

Keep in mind the "hint" aspect. Ask yourself, What does your story hint at? Use the Hemingway six-worder as an example:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

What larger, more complex story is he hinting at? Imagine the characters. Imagine the grief. Now try to do the same with your own work.

Please keep in mind I won't be impressed by six-word stories that are obvious derivations of the Hemingway piece. Not that your stories can't be short. Joe Lansdale sent me a five-word story that I think is absolutely amazing. So just as with any story or novel, let the story dictate its length.

Now for a quick example:

The boy went to the corner store and stole a Snickers bar.

Okay, so what's going on in this story? The boy steals a candy bar, obviously, but what else? What is being hinted at?

Honestly, I don't think much is happening here. It's not interesting. It's not compelling at all.

Now let's change it up:

The boy went to the corner store and stole a pregnancy test for his sister.

All right, so this piece is becoming a little more interesting. There's definitely a larger, more complex story being hinted at. Why can't the sister buy her own pregnancy test? Why is the boy stealing it? Why doesn't he just pay for it in the first place?

But wait -- we need a title. So how about ...

Incest

If you're cringing a little bit, then the story definitely evoked an emotional response. Keep in mind you shouldn't go overboard, and maybe this title does that. Maybe it could be something more vague, like "The First Time" or "The Night After" or something like that.

See how the title is just as important as the story?

Still another two weeks away before submissions open. I hear people are already working on their stories. Which was the whole point announcing the guidelines at the beginning of the month -- I want writers to spend time on these stories, think about the word choice, and not just throw them together as fast as they can and submit them.

Also, I'm happy to say it seems the Google hits for "hint fiction" have increased by almost 2,000 in the last two weeks, which is pretty amazing. Thanks to everyone who's helped get the word out, no matter if it was positive or negative :-)

Regarding Hint Fiction

This is like déjà vu all over again. When something becomes successful or popular, the haters slink out from under their rocks to start their dissing.

It happened months back when this whole thing started, and it's happening again.

And to be honest, I think it's hilarious.

You can't please all the people all the time, and when the haters make their appearance, I always feel like I'm doing something right.

Anyway, I've realized I'm taking for granted the fact that many new visitors to this site don't already know about Hint Fiction and the contest we had a few months back. This is all new to them, and while I don't really expect everyone to go back and read the very first essay (or this post, or this essay, or this interview, all which give insight into Hint Fiction), I figured it would be nice of me to lay out a brief history of the form and the idea behind the anthology.

So here goes:

Ernest Hemingway once wrote a six-word story that went "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." A complete story in just six words.

Only there's a school of thought that doesn't see it as a story. Why? I don't know. People are weird that way. But I was curious at just what point a story stops becoming a story, how short it has to be, and so I wrote an essay about it for Gay Degani at the Flash Fiction Chronicles. I said that these stories only give a hint of a much larger story, and that because of that they should be called Hint Fiction.

Please understand that I said all of this facetiously. I never intended for any of it to catch on. I certainly never intended to get a book deal out of the thing. But hey, I ain't complaining.

Why 25 words? Well, why not? I've always found the classification of stories baffling. From novel to novella to novellete to short story to flash fiction to sudden fiction to micro fiction to nano fiction to drabbles to dribbles to now Hint Fiction. Who came up with the set word counts? Why does being within 1,000 words (or even 100 words) declassify one form from being another form?

Sadly, in this writing world in which we all live, classification and labels are key. People can't just be writers. Oh no. They have to be literary writers or science fiction writers or mystery writers. They must be labeled, oh yes they must, and like the authors, the stories must be labeled too.

Really, it's all very silly when you think about it. Like I've said before, as a rose is a rose is a rose, a story is a story is a story. Only, unfortunately, it's not.

Wait, you say, but isn't this art? Why should we limit art to anything, especially 25 words?

To which I respond: Take a freaking chill pill, okay?

Seriously, some people get uptight about the smallest things. Overthinking and overanalyzing way too much, and this is coming from a guy who overthinks and overanalyzes way more than he should.

Why 25 words? Why not 20? Why not 30? Can't a story of 30 words be considered Hint Fiction? Sure, I don't see why not (this story is 29 words and it definitely suggests a larger, more complex story), but you've gotta put your foot down somewhere, and besides, 25 words seemed like the perfect number (especially since a drabble is 100 words and a dribble is 50 words, making hint fiction 25 words just made sense).

And I'm hesitant to call Hint Fiction art, too, because once you call something art it becomes pretentious. But again, that goes into the whole labeling and categorizing foolishness ...

Then what about this thesis? you say. Why does this anthology have to prove anything?

To which I respond again: Take a freaking chill pill, okay?

Listen, this all goes back to the very start, to the idea that there are people who don't buy these tiny stories as stories. To them they're punchlines or jokes or aphorisms. And that's their opinion, and it's very difficult to change people's opinions. But with this anthology, I didn't want to include a slew of stories 25 words or less for the sake of being 25 words or less. My editor was in agreement. The top 20 finalists of the Hint Fiction contest were not authors just putting 25 words or less on a page. Each of them had to tell a story.

But again, that stubborn school of thought that refuses for whatever reason to see these stories as actual stories.

So I thought -- okay, then let's try to prove that these ARE stories. How? Well, quite simply I came up with four basic principles of what, for me at least, a story should do:

  1. It should obviously tell a story
  2. It should be entertaining
  3. It should be thought provoking
  4. And, if done just right, it should evoke some kind of emotional response from the reader

So I ask you -- if a story of 2,500 words or more can do all that, why can't a story 25 words or less?

Admittedly not everybody is going to see it that way. There are those who get the idea of this book and like it, others who don't and think it's stupid. That's to be expected.

(One major author I'd contacted about possibly submitting to the anthology said she didn't agree with the book's premise; her agent, however, thought it was a terrific idea and even suggested some of his other clients who he thought might be interested in submitting.)

Ultimately though, the idea here to just to have fun. My goal is for the writers to have fun working on their stories, and the eventual readers to have fun reading them. Granted, not every reader is going to love every story. I've found that a reader will love Story A and hate story B, while another reader will love Story B and hate Story A. Just like everything else in life, certain things appeal to us, other things don't.

Hint Fiction, above all else, is an exercise in brevity. It shows writers just how important word choice is, and hopefully this will reflect in their other writing.

So now I leave it up to you -- questions, comments, concerns, leave them in the comments section and I'll try to answer the best I can. After all, I don't have to defend myself like this, but I want everyone to see where I'm coming from, where I hope to go with the book, so that each person planning to submit can get a fair shake.

Show vs. Tell vs. Nothing

I published a story a couple weeks back at Every Day Fiction called "Incomplete." If you haven't read it yet, go take a look. I'll wait. Back? Good.

The response to the story was quite positive. It's great when readers leave comments or send e-mails about a story, but it's simply amazing when they actually blog about a particular story, as Erica Naone did. If you haven't read that yet, go take a look. I'll wait.

Now in the blog post she talks about creating an ominous mood right off the bat with the very first line:

The men without faces came for his father just after dinnertime.

This is one of those stories that started out with just that first line. I had no idea where it was headed. I just let the story tell itself.

One thing I was quite aware about doing, however, was staying detached from the story. Oftentimes it seems writers care way too much about their characters, and in doing so they smother those characters with their writing that the reader finds themselves not caring much at all.

Anton Chekhov once said that the colder a writer is toward his characters, the more the reader will care for them.

(Well, I'm paraphrasing here, because I'd first heard that in an interview with Stewart O'Nan, and even then I think he may have been paraphrasing.)

But the idea is the less you show and tell, the more the reader will feel inclined to step in and fill in the blanks.

(Yes, yes, just like Hint Fiction!)

So in the scene where the boy -- yes, I never gave him a name, which was intentional -- found the envelope with his father's thumbs, I never showed you his reaction. I left that reaction up to the reader, hoping they would then fill in the blank and feel the boy's surprise and pain themselves.

I don't think there's a term for this, and quite frankly, I've retired from attempting to coin literary terms (might as well quit while I'm ahead, right?), but I've always thought of them as punchline stomps.

Like when you tell a joke, you get to that punchline and everyone laughs and has a good time ... but if you keep going, past the point where you should have stopped, the joke loses its effectiveness.

The same thing goes for writing.

There are certain authors who know when to end a scene in the right place. Then there are certain authors who don't, and who draw the scene out for another two or three or four pages.

How do you know when you're stomping your punchlines?

Well, I'm not really sure. My suggestion is start at the very end of the scene or chapter or whatever, and start cutting. If you get to a point where you cut something and it takes away from the overall story, you know you've cut too much. After all, if you can cut and cut and none of it affects the story at all, what's it doing there in the first place?

Anatomy Of A Book Deal

Recently I was interviewed by a reporter for the local newspaper about the Norton deal (it should make Monday's evening edition, and if it’s also online I’ll be sure to post a link). To prepare for the interview I went back over some of the dates and thought I’d share them here for anyone who’s interested (so this isn't really an anatomy so much as a timeline). As my buddy Joe Schreiber told me, it’s amazing how fast the deal was closed, and it’s true -- unless you’re Stephen King or James Patterson, book deals don’t happen overnight. They take weeks, sometimes months, and that’s if you’re lucky. Anyway, here’s the breakdown:

On March 31, I sent Gay an e-mail pitching my idea for an article about how short can you make a story until it’s no longer considered a story.

On April 14, I had written and uploaded the article into the Flash Fiction Chronicles website. It was officially in the queue, with two or three articles before it. (Note here that Gay had asked me if I wanted it launched on Friday or wait until Monday; she suggested we wait until Monday, as not much traffic passes through during the weekend, so that’s what we went with.)

On April 20, the article was posted and the Hint Fiction Contest was announced. A few blogs picked it up immediately and the news began to spread.

On April 21, MediaBistro mentioned the Contest on their website, and the thing blew up. Entries streamed in nonstop, not to mention that same day W.W. Norton approached me and my agent about possibly doing an anthology of Hint Fiction.

On April 22, Hint Fiction had an oh-so-brief mention at The New Yorker blog.

On May 1, Norton officially made an offer. My agent did his agent thing and negotiated for more money.

On May 6, Norton made a new offer. We accepted.

On May 11, my agent closed the deal and gave me the go ahead to announce the anthology to the world.

All said and done, from when the article was first posted to the closing of the deal, less than a month had passed. 

Now here are some points worth noting:

  • I sometimes hear ignorant writers say “Why would I want an agent who takes 15% of my money when I could keep all of it?” Okay, that’s one way of thinking about it, but the truth of the matter is the more money an agent makes for you, the more money that agent makes, so of course they’re going to try to make as much as possible. (There's more an agent does, of course, but for our purposes right now let's concentrate on money.) After all, there’s a reason they are agents in the first place -- they know how to negotiate. My agent was able to increase the first offer by over 30%. And, remember, he only gets 15%, so that’s a hell of a lot more money for me. Also, agents do the dirty work as the intermediaries, so that there are no hard feelings between the publisher and writer. A writer can try to negotiate his or her own rate, but unless you’re Dean Koontz (who now works without an agent), you will never get as much money from a publisher as you could with an agent.

 

  • The Internet is full of liars. I’ve been fortunate enough to know Stewart O’Nan for many years now, and when I asked him to judge the contest he was more than willing. But how would anyone know that? Nobody ever asked for any proof. I just posted on my blog that Stewart O’Nan would be the final judge, and everyone believed it. Hell, MediaBistro believed it, and that’s why they picked up the story. See where I’m going with this? Fortunately I’m an honest person and would never try to pull off a hoax like that, but who’s to say that Joe Blow over at the blog down the street who’s sponsoring a contest with James Lee Burke as the judge really knows James Lee Burke? Just saying. 

 

  • Luck plays a major factor. Hard work does too, of course, just as perseverance, but being in the right place at the right time ... you can't plan for that. Had I told Gay I wanted to have the article posted that Friday, not many blogs might have picked it up, and MediaBistro may never have mentioned it, and Norton may never have approached us ...

 

  • Viral kicks ass. Sometimes it just happens, and sometimes you can help it happen. I stole an idea from Joe Konrath for the second part of the Hint Fiction Contest. Joe went on a blog tour, stopping by over 100 blogs in a month's time, and that really helped spread the word about him and his book. I used the approach where if people mentioned the contest on their own blog, I'd put their name in a hat for a random drawing. Not a massive turnout, but pretty big nonetheless. Had I not originally offered that second contest, who's to say what would have happened? (Also note here that over the course of two weeks, Hint Fiction went from a Google hit of less than 100 to over 2,000.)

So yeah, there are some things worth thinking about. Some what-ifs and what-could-have-beens and what-might-not-have-happeneds. Heavy stuff, no?