My name is V. Alexander and for years I've made money off corporate waste and destruction. My lifelong passion is writing. However, for over ten years, my real world career has been buying truckloads of merchandise from discrete organizations and selling them to a colorful assortment of individuals. My most new conquest was a 400+ store retail dinosaur that had a date with total annihilation. I got to know this dinosaur well over the past decade, buying overstocks on a quarterly basis and helping management troubleshoot discrete issues. This is what qualifies me to write this article, for this particular dinosaur is not alone.
Recently, a woman offered to release two of my fiction noir-suspense novels, issue Is Her enterprise and Black market Princess, both the supervene of years spent in literary purgatory. For a brief, foolish moment, I weighed this awesome offer-as if the established names had presented me with a six frame ageement and I'd be letting them down if I chose the small press option. In manufacture the decision whether to go with a small press, or my fictitious big name suitor, I put on my enterprise hat and drew on my experiences as an entrepreneur, which brings us back to the topic of destruction.
As writers, many of us are temperamental, very driven, and make ourselves crazy reworking scenes until they are perfect, only to rework them yet again. If we were normal, we wouldn't be dedicating years of study and craftsmanship to some abstract endeavor without any tangible reward in sight. And yet, after investing so much of ourselves in our work, the representatives from the "traditional" publishing business have no qualms about destroying any hope we have of launching a legitimate career. This, of course, stings. However, putting on my enterprise hat, I've seen some things from the other side-factors that play into their decision-making process that have petite to do with talent or even common sense.
Reasons Why Rejection May Be Inevitable, Regardless of Talent...
There are two main barriers that even the most talented writers face when approaching former publishing.
It's Who You Know. How many times have you heard a publishing professional say you must know someone to break in? Isn't this discrimination? A subtle method for filtering candidates by race, gender, ethnicity, religious affiliation, education, or communal status? The rejoinder is yes-and it makes petite difference. This sort of thing happens in every business-especially where there are petite slots and lots of habitancy who want those slots. Somewhere in the world, a fish is being pulverized. Lots of fish, in fact. The statistics on dying fish must be staggering. Fish get killed. Friends and relatives of business gatekeepers get special treatment. Maybe they're using the Friends of Friends Method, or consulting the Zodiac. Most have a system.
To look at it other way, when you have an oversupply of habitancy who are seeking something that has petite or no monetary cost-i.e. A representation deal or publishing contract-black markets develop. It's not evil; it's just human nature. Personal biases play a very big role in pairing down tens of thousands of candidates. There's no point in getting angry about it. It happens with rent control-it happens in publishing. No villains here.
But there is other way representatives of former publishing wield their power that is both destructive and without merit. From their Ivory tower, they shout to the masses of aspiring authors, "If you're not in our circle, you just couldn't cut it!"
This is like telling someone who doesn't win the lottery they couldn't cut it. Recently, Kirkus Reviews, one of the biggest names in book reviewing of all time, finished its doors. Does that mean they couldn't cut it? What about Borders? As of this writing, their stock price was flirting with a share-down from three years ago. I love Borders, but it looks like they're not cutting it either. What about the tens of thousands of habitancy who've recently been laid off from the publishing industry? Were they not talented enough to keep their jobs? Maybe they just didn't buck up enough.
What about the bookstores that are supposed to be doing well? Are those books on the shelves or are they now specializing in handbags, board games, and operation figures? Since when do you go to a bookstore to buy a cheap pair of sunglasses at a 600% markup? Surely, Mr. Mega Bookstore, you're not inviting in price wars. You're not set up for that. The other big boxes will kill you!
Let's talk operations. For every book sold, there's a 20-60% probability that book will be returned-and, most likely, it will be in mint condition. Transaction and logistics costs mount as publishers ship remaindered books to distribution centers where they are re-categorized and sold to a third party. The third party, most likely a "used" bookstore chain with a huge warehouse, buys the books for pennies on the dollar and sells them at a huge profit. Meanwhile, former publishers and their authors eat the cost. I'd love to watch an author's face as she tries to make sense of all the adjustments pertaining to her royalty. I'd love to take her to a "used" book operation's distribution town and account for why they're manufacture so much money.
If former publishing were such a great enterprise model, why is the business begging for a bailout? Why are the writing advice and publishing insider magazines launching vigorous ad campaigns when advertising itself is in a dark pit? Are they embarking on a new multi-stage schedule designed to boost revenues 60% by next quarter? Or are they desperate?
Even a numerically challenged someone like me, who has an Mba, can see there's something wrong here. former publishers, I've seen your story before and it doesn't end well. The desperate dash to join new processes and boost advertising budgets isn't going to work. Your rigged reviews, your exclusive writers clubs, your phony awards ceremonies... Today's readers are plainly too busy doing their own thing to pay much attention.
My point, Ms. Or Mr. Aspiring Writer, is this. If you've worked hard rewriting something a million times, and you've had it edited a million times... If you've found yourself a literary benchmark by which to gauge your work and your audience, and you know in your heart of hearts there are at least three habitancy in the world who would unquestionably like to read your story... I say go for it. release it yourself or seek out a small press.
Of course, there's no warrant of success. When it comes to beginning any entrepreneurial venture, there is a 96% failure rate. When and if you do start manufacture money in this business, your margins will probably be so thin only your accountant will know they're there. Reach this stage and you'll be exactly where a lot of new authors who've been inducted into former publishing are-only you'll keep more of the money and have more control over your literary destiny. With prolonged effort, you'll probably get some results-my readers have been nice enough to pay my car guarnatee on my Honda S2000 and the management fees on all of my speculation properties for the year. They're nothing short of awesome.
If you settle to go for it, I wish you the best of luck with your new venture. Don't let New York hold you back. As for what I'm doing, aside from chatting it up with an array of questionable persons at coffee shops, I'll be waiting for a phone call. The speaker, excited over the anticipation of a lucrative kickback, will tell me when the next round of former publishers' assets will be ready to be liquidated.
