Timeline:
1970-ish: How vain
would a writer have to be to slap down good money in order to see his work in
print? What unscrupulous publisher would take advantage of such self-aggrandizement?
Vanity presses, indeed! I eschew the like.
Mid-1980s: As a college student, I concede that certain
academics, writing on esoteric topics, could find it beneficial to self-publish
in their field. But never fiction!
1990s: Several of the members of our local poetry club have published chapbooks. That’s quaint. Not something I would do, but I see the
value, especially for their families and friends.
1992: I begin my first book, a picture-book with quite a bit
of text, Up a Rutted Road. When it comes time to submit it, I
begin at the top with a major publisher. One of the high-ranking editors
likes it and asks if I would be willing to rewrite it as a middle-grade novel.
Uh, yes. No self-publishing for me!
1993: The rewrite of URR is finished. I resubmit to the same editor, who eventually responds with a lovely personal note.
"Unfortunately, our MG list is full now. We cannot consider another title
for a couple years." Though discouragement rears its ugly head, I continue to
study fiction writing, but abstain from submitting, waiting for the wound to
heal.
Early 2000s: What in the world is going on in publishing? I
hear of many writers who, after forfeiting all hope of being pubbed
traditionally, now turn to print-on-demand, whatever that is. I’m pretty sure
it’s a type of self-publishing. Meanwhile, I continue to study my
craft and write occasionally.
2001: I co-founded Southern Indiana Writers' Salon, a group
of local writers. A few of us intend to seriously pursue a writing career.
2002: My friends, Ron and Jo E., support my writing. They
seem to think I have some talent and want to sponsor the—here it comes—self-publishing,
vía POD, of my manuscript. I decline. “If
I can’t find a traditional publisher, I’ll go unpubbed. I’m leaving my writing
career in God’s hands.” And He would never want me to do such a vain thing.
Would He? No. No. Of course . . . not. But is vanity the only thing that drives
one to . . . ? Never mind.
2003: Now I can say I’ve met people who have published their
own work. As for quality, that varies. Some works are very good. Most could benefit
from a careful, critical editing by a pair of knowledgeable, objective eyes.
I’m
sticking to the traditional route. I approach the same editor again,
ignorant that that generally is not done. She agrees to take another
look. Alas, again she rejects it, saying it needs more conflict.
At some point around this
time, the Lord—always gracious and merciful—leads Ramona K. Cecil to SIWS. We
become friends, and she urges me to look into ACFW membership, attend
conferences, and beat up my darlings.
Late in the first decade of the 2000s: I’m following Ramona’s
advice by attending conferences and having sit-downs with editors, never giving
a thought to self-publishing, though I hear more about the issue, especially
following the release of Amazon’s Kindle in 2007. (One of our SIWS writers
actually brings one to a meeting for us to see. What a fun toy, much like the
little Connect Four electronic game I carry in my purse. Nothing to take
seriously.)
At the first major conference
I attend (the now-defunct Central Ohio Writers of Literature for Children
Conference, Columbus), I present my work to two editors, since I now have two
MG manuscripts to pitch. The first editor requests to see the full of Up a Rutted Road. “Your style reminds me of Cynthia
Rylant, but for slightly older readers,” she said. Since Rylant’s When I Was Young in the Mountains is one
of my favorite picture books, I was pleased by the comparison. Unfortunately,
that editor had to take an extended medical leave and never got to read
the full. The second editor also requested a full, but her publishing house was
bought out, and she moved on, so—you get the picture.
Self-pubbing is looking
better. Just teasing. Sickness and loss of position, those things happen. I
will keep praying, keep polishing, keep learning, keep submitting, keep
attending conferences, keep on.
2011-12: The ACFW Conference, the main event for Christian
writers, is held in Indianapolis! An
hour down the road from me! Huzzah! When I receive my schedule, I’m thrilled to
see the name of one of my favorite agents, and I get to have a sit-down with
her to pitch my second novel, The Second
Cellar. She likes it and requests the full. I have to admit it isn’t quite
finished. “That’s all right,” she says. “When can you get it to me?” We agree
that March would be good timing, after the holidays.
She retired from the agency in
December, before she could see it, and none of the other agents handled MG.
Lord, what are You trying to tell me? I honestly don’t know. What’s
next? A battle rages within. I
enter into a dark night of the writer’s soul. A shadow seems to hover over my
computer. I want to write, but doubt my calling, doubt my ability to put words
together cohesively on a page. The enemy tells me I should give up, use my
computer to play Spider Solitaire and check Facebook.
2013: Southern Indiana Writers’ Salon lived a good life,
lasting for seven years—longer than most writers’ groups—but suffered a tragic
demise a few years ago. In 2012, a handful of Writerly Sisters, former SIWS
members, began meeting at my writer’s nest each month.
One of our scribes publishes
some of her children’s books using Smashwords.com. and suggests I consider
doing the same. She presents me with my own copy of Publishing E-Books for Dummies and some other resources. They sit gathering
dust until—
May 2013: I have an internal debate:
Why do I write?
Because I must. It’s been in my soul since fourth grade. I
can’t not write, not for long,
anyway.
What if I never get published
traditionally?
That’s possible because publishing is changing.
Do I want to make
money with my writing?
Well, that certainly would be nice. But it’s not my
priority.
Then what is the true
and important thing?
That my work glorifies God. That I write winsomely, pointing
readers to Him.
No one is reading my
work now. It’s languishing in my computer.
True.
What if I go to all
the work of e-pubbing and still no one reads it?
I have grandchildren, my "grandtreasures." They’ll read it.
And if they’re the only ones, it’s well worth the effort. Maybe someone else
will, also. And perhaps—just perhaps—the right agent or editor will stumble
over it and decide it has possibilities. It happens!
But I’m writing
middle-grade. Research shows that few middle-grade readers read e-books.
As fast as things change in
the world of publishing, that could turn overnight.
Up a
Rutted Road waiting for them.
I have no plans to
e-pub my second MG novel, The Second
Cellar, or my third. I’ll leave those decisions to God’s leading. For too
long, I held the misconception that members of ACFW eschewed indie books. I've since learned that many of my
brother and sister scribes have self-published. I’m sure I’ve read and enjoyed some of
their work without knowing it because they took the time to do it right through
careful revision and editing and by creating (or paying a professional to design)
a professional-quality cover.
This topic came up for lively discussion on our ACFW members loop
recently. One writer put it in perspective by reminding us of how
blessed we are to have so many options open, considering that in closed
and threatened countries, any type of Christ-proclaiming publication is
outlawed. Apparently, those who would muzzle Christian writers
understand the power in the printed word.
* * *
I would love to hear your thoughts and/or experiences with indie publishing. Please leave a comment.
Write on!
Because of Christ,
Sharon
