Almost a book!

Last week I had style proofs sent through to me. The first twenty pages of my novel, typeset. Such an exciting moment. And how different typeset words look from Word doc words.

 My Word version...

... and the typeset version...

Seeing your work typeset is an amazing moment. It means you are another step closer to your novel being turned into a book. Also, it is amazing how different the words look when laid out as they will appear on the pages. All sorts of issues become apparent that just aren't visible in Word. Proof reading is going to be an adventure...!

Slowly getting closer to February and my nerves are jangling already... well, they have been pretty much continuously since I decided to self publish. It's hard to know how to overcome the sinking feeling. I'm trying to remain positive and I'm looking forward to all the exciting things to come.

I've had a few ideas for marketing and publicity... I invested in some stationery this week...

Letters feature strongly in the novel so I've decided they can figure in the marketing too. Hopefully it will be something a little bit different... I have to do this my way and I know this book isn't going to be The Girl on the Train, but I'm going to throw myself into marketing with every inch of enthusiasm and attention to detail I can muster. It certainly helps with the nerves when I concentrate my energies on the things that will happen, rather than the things that might happen!

More soon...

Inbetween days...

I'm in that strange eye of the storm moment in the publishing process: copy edit work done. In fact all edits done. I'm waiting for the book to be typeset, then of course I'll be labouring away on proof reading. Essentially though the writing of A Life Between Us is done. So here I am twiddling my thumbs wondering what to do with myself (metaphorically. I have 101 things to do). 

I'd been thinking of attempting a screenplay of Mrs Sinclair's Suitcase for some time. The completion of the novel edits coincided with a bout of tendonitis... I've been more or less laid up for the last couple of weeks. So I got out my index cards, fiddled with scenes, and started writing. Just over a week after starting, I typed "Fade out" and voila - screenplay written. 

Well, all right, a first draft written. A very rough first draft by a complete amateur who doesn't understand film anywhere near enough. But it doesn't matter. I loved doing it. It was good to re-visit the story and characters. It was fun deciding which characters and events could be dispensed with... and actually, those decisions were made quickly and easily as it seemed obvious. It was fun to write new dialogue and new scenes. It was fun to use dialogue from the novel too.

 
I don't fully understand the conventions of a screenplay and I typed it in Word, replicating as best I could the screenplay formatting. I'm not worried about these things right now. I just wanted to concentrate on the writing at this stage and get that first draft down. Now I've lots of material (108 pages) to work on and shape into something that looks vaguely professional.

Now I've started I'm going to keep at it and maybe workshop the script or get it critiqued (once it's ready). While I love writing novels, it is exhilarating to try something else. Screenplays are a challenge to a novelist because there is no introspection... everything a character feels has to be conveyed through action and dialogue. There are no internal monologues or long passages of thoughts. It's a whole different ballgame. I actually think it's a useful exercise - looking at our story and characters in a new light, having to approach the writing in a purely visual way. If nothing else it's given me a new dimension, a new way of looking at my stories. I'd recommend it as an exercise especially if your project is ailing and in need of a fresh approach. I think you'll be thrilled with what is revealed and what you can do with it. 

I also entered a short story competition, polishing up a story I wrote last year. No hope of getting anywhere, but again it was good to craft at this story and see where I could go with it. I think it's the best I've written so far. I'm not very good at shorts but I do want to learn. I love the brevity. 

Hopefully there will be more A Life Between Us news soon!

 

Copy edits and, er, cabinets

I'm still in the thick of copy edits. I love this part of the writing/editing/publishing experience. Although, it can be tedious when you're trying to concentrate after a busy day with the home educated kids, the school runs for the school educated kid, laundry, cooking, etc. I confess to only managing an hour or so of useful editing before my eyes glaze over. I am so glad I made the decision not to rush to bring out A Life Between Us...

Author Ros Barber caused a bit of a stir this week with her Guardian piece in which she explained why she would not self-publish her literary work. Self-publishers took serious umbrage! And I don't entirely blame them (us). At the same time I think Ros made some valid points. I won't bang on about it here, as others have voiced their feelings far more eloquently than I ever could, such as Jane Davis's response on her blog yesterday.

I do want to briefly discuss Ros's analogy of a cabinet. She rightly says that you wouldn't just have a go at making a cabinet and then expect to sell it. No, you wouldn't. But a cabinet is a cabinet. Skilled joinery is universally recognisable. It's a specific skill. Bad joinery is as obvious as good joinery. In other words, it's objective.

Writing is subjective. Once you get past the nuts and bolts (sorry!) of spelling, grammar, punctuation, syntax and the ability to tell a story, all that's left is taste. You only have to look at any book listed on Amazon or Goodreads to see the variety of reviews, the diversity of responses to any given novel. The serious self-publisher (there is such a thing) engages with their inner critic, and gets help with their writing. They craft their work, as does the serious cabinet maker, and they won't unleash on the world anything that is below standard. I know that's not how all self-published authors operate, but I think it's true of many. Novels are not cabinets.

My books in my cabinet. A rather cheap, mass-produced piece of furniture, but it does the job, and lots of people love this kind of cabinet. 

Let's also remember some of the stuff that traditional publishers present to the world... among loads of fantastic books (this week I read My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout and oh my goodness, how good is that...) there are some truly awful novels and self-publishers can't be blamed for those, that's for sure. Some of these books are hyped on Twitter and elsewhere, sometimes to an irritating level. It seems if a book publicist is constantly banging on about a book, that's OK, but if a self-publisher does the same, it's unprofessional. I would argue it is, but then isn't the pushy publicist also being unprofessional? Or just doing her job?

I don't know. I'm just doing what I do, to the best of my ability. I really don't enjoy the "them and us" attitude that seems to prevail in discussions about trad "versus" self-publishing. There are many hybrid authors around, and I'm proud to say I'm one of them. To me it's an adventure - all of it, writing, editing, publishing (trad, assisted or self) - and I try not to take it all so seriously. It's a plural world, and that's a good thing.

Cover images and copy edits

Last week my copy edit for A Life Between Us arrived. It was an exciting moment, but also a terrifying one. I felt nervous opening up the document and looking at those first changes. My finger has been hitting the Accept button like there's no tomorrow... and also the Reject button a few times. I'm up to page 153 and I've discovered a few tics in my writing. I mix up tenses. I get spellings wrong (not too often though). I construct some pretty clumsy sentences. My hard working copy editor has done a great job of going through the MS and pointing out all these infelicities. Before getting stuck into the copy edited MS, I anxiously read through the copy editor's notes page and was delighted that there weren't any major mistakes to fix. I was also hoping, to be perfectly honest, to find a line or two of praise, and I did! That has given me a real boost, which links in to the whole validation issue I wrote about last time. It felt great to read the copy editor's opinion of A Life Between Us and to hear that he enjoyed working on it... phew! It's a start.

I've also been busy choosing a cover image. No easy task when you're not a designer, and you don't work in publishing! The word "amateur" keeps popping into my mind... I want to get the cover, like everything else, right: so I read a few articles about covers and the task they need to perform. I tried to keep in mind that the cover is the first thing readers will see and therefore it needs to attract. It doesn't necessarily have to reflect the story, although most covers seem to, I find, in one way or another. The thing to remember I think is that the cover only really makes sense after the novel has been read. That felt important to me and I was then able to focus on seeking out a suitable image. I knew from the start that I wanted a photographic image and I wanted something striking! Exciting! Different... then I calmed down a bit and popped on my business woman hat for a minute or two. I slowed down, and spent time looking at book covers in my genre. I'm not 100% sure of my genre but I've gone with Literary/Commercial Crossover, or, Serious "women's" fiction, or, Lit Lite.

This is the export edition of my first novel Mrs Sinclair's Suitcase. Letters feature in the novel and this cover clearly reflects that. I think this cover is mysterious and feminine, and understated. Also, a little cliched... but that's OK because the cover is fulfilling its expectations and it reflects the nature of the novel. The story inside "does what it says on the tin (cover)" and I think it's beautifully designed. 

I realise that in order to attract readers I need to go with a cover they might expect... it sounds a bit same ol, same ol, but from a business POV it makes sense. I want to sell my novel and I need the cover to help me do that. I decided if things go well I could always re-issue the book at a later date with a truly off-the-wall cover. But for its first outing it needs to "fit". I was delighted to read an article in The Bookseller this week (about the Academy of British Cover Design) which discusses that very thing. It's a timely corroboration of my thoughts. Phew again...

I won't of course be designing my cover, I'm leaving that to the designers at Matador Books. I can't wait to see how they incorporate the image I've chosen. It's going to be a huge moment... and of course all will be revealed in due course...

Don't look down...

Last week I wrote about my tussle with vanity while deciding whether to self-publish my second novel. I've kind of got over worrying about vanity now... well, all right, I'm still a little worried about it. And the reason is, I have nobody backing me up with this project. With my first novel, while most publishers weren't falling over themselves to buy it, one of them in the end did, and it felt absolutely amazing. The publisher, although I wasn't truly aware of it at the time, provided a huge safety net. There was that oh-so-important validation from a publisher willing to take a chance on the book and pay to publish it. It's the one thing that scares me about self-publishing more than anything else. With a commercial publisher the writer gets that first seal of approval: we like this novel, hell, we love it. We believe in it. We are going to stump up the cash to publish it and what's more, we are going to pay you the author an advance and royalties.

As a self-publisher, it's just you and nothing much beneath you but solid ground. I can forgive myself the odd spell of dizziness, nausea and weak-kneed terror.

Don't look down...

Once A Life Between Us is out there, I'm prepared for the reviews citing my work as a self-published vanity project. I know that accusation is going to be thrown at me, and I'm prepared for it. It won't be nice, but it will be expected. In one sense it matters not a jot... every book ever published gets one star reviews from readers who, for a myriad of reasons, just didn't enjoy it. OK, our first one star review is bewildering, hurtful... even a little bit soul-destroying. Actually, all our one star reviews hurt, but I've learned not to take them personally. I also remind myself that I don't write my novels for those particular readers. I write for the readers who enjoy my writing and who sometimes kindly leave 4 or 5 stars, or even 3.

I've also learned to tell the difference between a genuine one star review - somebody who reads but doesn't enjoy the book - from a fake one star review: those "readers" who would give it one star regardless, those who in all probability haven't even read the book, the plain trolling one starrers... they exist, sadly. My first novel received a two star rating before the proofs had even been printed, let alone sent out.

Yet, commercially published authors have a sense of refuge. Our publisher brought out the book, not us. We can blame the publisher if sales and reviews are poor - they didn't market the book properly; they didn't market the book at all; they didn't work hard enough on the editing; they picked an awful cover. Whatever. There is somebody else there, often the might of a Big Five publisher, and the burden of responsibility is shared, or even lifted completely. Not so when you go it alone. Even with assisted self-publishing, there is little validation. OK, assisted publishing firms don't take on every single manuscript that comes their way, but nor do they have acquisition meetings where an editor fights tooth and nail for a novel they love and believe in.

So what to do about this lack of validation? I think all I can do is ensure I bring out the very best novel I'm capable of. Nobody can ask for more. Some readers will enjoy it and that will be the most valuable validation of all. It's all about the readers in the end; they are who we write for.

Next week I'll talk about my experiences of the self-publishing process so far, including my favourite task to date... helping to choose the cover image (but no reveal just yet...)

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

Thank you for all the responses to last week's post. It got far more attention than I'd anticipated!

This week I'm going to be slightly less controversial (maybe!) and talk about vanity, an issue that is inevitably tied up with self-publishing.

One of the issues I wrestled with while considering self-publishing was my own vanity. I have it in bucket loads. I honestly believe there isn't one writer who isn't vain about their work (if nothing else)! And the reason is, we have to be - whether trad published, self-published (assisted or truly going it alone), or if hoping/planning to be published by any of these routes. If we weren't vain we would never send our work out to agents, or upload it onto Kindle. When we submit our work to agents and editors, or to beta readers or to our partners or to critiquing forums - anywhere at all, we are saying to the world:

Here's something I've written. I think it's pretty good. In fact, I think it might be wonderful.

We know we are vain because if the response is even lukewarm, let alone negative or an outright rejection, we bristle with hurt pride, we leap to our writing's defence (even if only in private), and yes, we are shocked that the reader didn't love our offering.

(One of my caffeine-fuelled writing sessions. Also, nail polish. I told you authors are vain!)  

But in the sensible writer, the true writer who understands that writing is a craft, something else kicks in. I think it's an ability to see our own work as others see it, coupled with the genuine desire to learn and develop. It's also the wisdom to realise that our vanity, while necessary, is almost always false.

The problem with writing is that just about everybody thinks they can do it. We can read, we can write, we can punctuate and spell to one degree or another... we are literate. It's not like being able to paint, or play a musical instrument. Those are rarefied skills that most of us freely admit to not possessing.

"Reflected"

Image courtesy of Pete Tuffrey Artist 

But writing? Easy peasy. Many a time I've told people I'm a novelist and the reply is, "Oh, I would write a novel if I had the time", or, "My great uncle Ebenezer had an amazing life, you could write about that". Or that old chestnut, Everyone's got a novel in them. (They haven't though.)

Many would-be novelists are actually in love with the idea of "being a writer". It tends to top those lists of most desirable occupations time and again. But "being a writer" is a fantasy, a romanticised, Harry Potter-fuelled lie. This notion of "being a writer", coupled with vanity and ego is enough to convince some people that they "should" be published. It's not wildly different to the people who audition for The X Factor. "I really, really want this," they say, regardless of their talent. But if I wanted to "be" a great clarinetist, I wouldn't just buy a clarinet and climb up on stage and try to play it. I'd look like a compete fool. What I would do is buy a clarinet and take lessons. I would practice for hours, days, years. Realistically, I would probably accept somewhere along the line that I would never be good enough to perform to an audience other than my mother. But writing is more subtle than that, it's far murkier. What we produce looks like writing. And these days we can turn it, more or less by ourselves, into something that looks like a book.

I asked myself over and over, isn't that what I would be doing? Is self-publishing this novel nothing but a vanity project? And other thoughts - so what if my debut got a book deal? This isn't that novel. It's a different novel and it may not be as interesting, or as commercial, or as whatever. There must be a reason it didn't get a trad deal, I tell myself, and it's true. I'm risking making an almighty fool of myself, making all those horrible noises on my metaphorical clarinet.

I still wrestle with those doubts and fears. I think I'm going to throughout this project. But I hold on to the fact that I can write fairly well, I know my current limitations, and I'll always strive to exceed them. I hope I understand the craft of writing, that truly it's not much to do with the ability to put words onto paper (although that is a start). It's little to do with imagination either - everybody has imagination. It's all about responsibility to our readers. If we are vain enough to present our work to the world in whatever capacity, that's fine to a point, as long as we remember to forget about ourselves, and get inside our reader's experience, and be considerate of them at all times. A good novel is a crafted performance and as long as we hang onto that thought, I think it's fair to publish our work in any way we can or in any way we choose, and see what the world has to say about it.

Next week I'm going to talk about validation. See you then!

Disclosure: Pete Tuffrey is my brother and he's a brilliant artist, do check out his work.

Why self-publish?

Last week I told the world (my small bookish corner of it anyway) that I was intending to self-publish my second novel.

But why self-publish? I've had to think about this at length. Goodness knows I thought about taking the plunge for an awful long time... several weeks stretching into months of "Shall I?" "Should I?" "Won't it be cheating?" "Will I lose all credibility?" "Do I have any credibility to lose?" These and other equally ponderous and uncomfortable questions kept me awake at night.

The simple truth is, I'm going to self-publish A Life Between Us because I want to. Now that I've committed to the project I can stop worrying about what other people think and just get on with the job in hand, which is writing, editing and marketing A Life Between Us to the best of my ability.

Writing is a kind of magic, and getting a book deal is too. When Mrs Sinclair's Suitcase got its deal it was incredible. I enjoyed every moment of the process - getting the news, meeting the team at Hodder, working through all the edits, seeing the cover for the first time, receiving my proof copies, then the beautiful finished copies, spotting my book in shops... it was a rapturous, crazy time that I will never forget. But of course, being the slightly megalomaniac person I am (all writers have to be?) I want to do it all over again. And again... and again.

But my second novel, submitted in 2014, wasn't picked up by Hodder. It was a blow, but after a few weeks I gathered myself and I worked hard on editing. I changed much of the plot, I changed character names, I changed the title. I still believed in it. My agent sent it out again...

All right, "Because I want to" isn't really an answer, so here are some of the reasons I want to. Warning: I'm going to be honest.

A Life Between Us didn't get a traditional book deal. I would have taken a trad deal and in fact I came tantalisingly close in 2015 to getting one. I was invited to a meeting with an independent publisher. They told me how much they enjoyed my novel and how interested they were in publishing it: all very positive and exciting. A week later they changed their mind. As you can imagine, that was crushing. And the reason? I think it's because my novels or ideas for novels are all so different, it would be hard to "market" me as an author. I don't know. Perhaps there were other reasons. My husband wasn't best pleased. He took a day of annual leave so I could go to London for that meeting. I spent £34 on a train ticket. I'm still considering sending the publisher an invoice for my expenses.

I believe a good book is a good book. Possibly I'm hopelessly naive and romantic (and a little bit conceited) but honestly, you don't get asked to drag yourself down to London by a publisher to discuss your book if that book is not publishable. No publisher is going to waste their time if the story is no good (and by "good" I simply mean publishable). They just aren't. So, funnily enough, the disappointment of that strangely inexplicable experience has given me more belief in this novel. I'm indebted to the publisher for that - if nothing else. OK, decision made: I won't send them an invoice.


I've worked out, rather painfully, that the publishing industry (in very general terms of course and not including agents) is...(whispers) not quite as loyal as it could be to its authors - without whom there would be no industry. I probably don't need to say anything further, but I'm going to.

It seems that in order to be feted or encouraged or even appreciated by the publishing industry you must be a very well established author (and that is well and good and as it should be), or a debut author. Which strikes me as a real shame, because who, seriously, produces their best work at their first, or second, or even third attempt?

Can I be really honest? If I hear the words "sparkling debut" or "stunning debut" one more time, I'm going to vomit. What's wrong with "sparkling third novel"? Many writers are not given the time and support to prove themselves as the writers they are capable of being. They are brushed aside too readily, to make way for yet another "stunning debut", which, most of the time, is anything but - Mrs Sinclair's Suitcase included. I know that's not my best work. Nor is A Life Between Us. But they are both, I hope, readable, publishable, and perfectly serviceable and necessary stepping stones on the way to my best work.

It's great to publish and showcase debut authors, of course it is. We all are debut authors. But only ONCE. After that we have to build on that first novel, and write the second novel, perhaps not getting it quite right at our first attempt. Ideally we do this with support and guidance from a trusted editor who knows our potential. For too many of us, that just doesn't happen. If writers are dumped too readily, I believe readers miss out, and in the long run the publisher misses out too. Writing is a long haul. Publishers, as well as authors, need vision.

I don't hate the publishing industry, I really don't. Where on earth would we be without it? But I am frustrated and disillusioned, which in turn has led to my decision to commit to myself, to be loyal to myself, to be my own caretaker and gatekeeper to my own career, at least for now.

More next week. I'm going to address the thorny, muddled issue of vanity...