The Indie Author Learning Curve

A meeting of departments

Photo by Benjamin Child on Unsplash

If you feel as if you’ve just walked in on a meeting that started half an hour ago, let me introduce you. To my left is Finance, (they need their expectations managed). Next to them is Growth (always full of Big Ideas). There’s HR (dribbling in the corner, when will they understand that self-care gets in the way) and holding their hand is Sustainability, (who understands that without self-care the whole enterprise goes to shit). Publicity is on my right (please put down that mirror for one second), and next to them, Tech (exhausted by everyone’s incompetence). Taking up at least three chairs and a sofa, the Creative department (who rightly consider themselves the heart and soul of the matter, but unhelpfully believe everything to be someone else’s fault.)

This is the life of an indie author, this meeting on constant rotation, checking in on departments: is everyone okay? Am I doing what’s needed to move this story forward? I’ve invited you in because you might be doing the same and because I need to talk about it.

My memoir came out last June. I decided, because of costs, timetable and as an experiment, to do almost no publicity (Publicity department was stood down.) Instead I published 300 copies and called them limited edition, and paid for global distribution which means it’s available worldwide, print on demand.

What I learnt:

1. That p-o-d production values do a disservice to the printed word, no one’s complained, but I know that the original UK edition is a million times more beautiful to hold.

2. That turning the tables on the competition to sell as many books as possible has given me freedom. I cannot compete on sales numbers with mainstream publishing. It’s not even worth getting in the race. And who makes money from selling books anyway? (Finance drops to the floor). Very few. So instead I’ve changed my thinking. I know it seems crazy (someone get Finance the smelling salts) but what if we think of the books I publish in the same way we’d think of a photographer producing limited edition print runs? If it’s loved, and reaches the right hands, a mainstream publisher can pick up the phone and make us an offer. And if not, that’s okay, too. My ambition is to get my books into the hands of those who need and love them. Let’s get numbers off the table. It will still be available worldwide as an eBook, but we keep the beauty of the printed book sacred.

My new novel, In Judgement of Others, comes out next January, I’ve hired a fabulous agency to handle the campaign (Publicity wheels in a floor to ceiling mirror and props it against the wall), we’re putting bells and whistles on it, but off the back of what I’ve learnt:

1. We’re producing the same, small, limited edition print run of 300 copies.

2. There will be no global distribution. Overseas orders will have to pay shipping, which will double the price and no doubt put them off but,

3. We’re taking it to London Book Fair where (Growth sits up) we hope to sell the foreign rights.

4. It will be available on Audible (I’m recording it. The Performance department steps out of a cupboard and dusts itself off.)

5. It will also be available as an eBook worldwide

Which brings us to the Tech department who’ve wrestled with NetGalley this week, and are having to monitor Fallout, the novel I’m streaming in weekend serialisations here on Substack, while liaising with Finance to improve the donate button on the end of each post, and with Growth, who, having had their head exploded by spending the week with

Sarah Fay

, are keen that a subscriber with caption button doesn’t get forgotten. (HR please calm them down and remind them that the indie author motto is One Thing At A Time.)

Meanwhile Publicity has been working hard sending out pdf galleys of In Judgement of Others to writers far and wide in the hope that a few will have time to read and say something wonderful about it that we can then put on the cover.

Wait. Have you noticed? The Creative Department are getting impatient, looking at their watches, wondering when they can get out of here. This week I had an idea. Just a slice of one, a taste, something so slight yet so sparkling it caught my attention. I want to get going, push everyone aside, make a run for it, jump in the van that’s idling outside and head for the hills. I need everyone to tell me they’ve got this. Can I see a show of hands?

Until next time,

The Literary Obsessive