Conversations in self-publishing for the serially challenged 5: crunching the numbers

 

The Bold Ship Phenomenal is safely out of my hands – in China being printed – so I thought I would look at the thorny question of costs.

When I decided to publish the story myself, one of my publishing ‘values’, as it were, was that the book had to be a top-class production. This was important to me, not only because I trained in publishing, but because this was my product: I had to stand by it for as long as it endured in the world, and I wanted to be proud of it.

I’ve done my best, and with the help of all the talented professionals who’ve played their part in getting the book to this stage, I think we’ve got a great result. But of course all this help costs, and what became clear very early on (in fact, before I even started, when I did my first rough budget) is that I was unlikely to ever make any money on it. Luckily that was never one of my aims.

I’ve listed the costs I’ve incurred below, so that anyone setting out on this route can see the type of expenses involved, and where they might be able to save on costs by finding a cheaper option or doing it themselves (something I haven’t been very good at).

The figures given are rough – both to protect my suppliers’ modesty, and to reflect the range of prices I was quoted for particular tasks (which on occasion, varied widely).

This list is not the end of the expenses, there is still warehousing, and promotion, and GST and other taxes, and bad debtors (assuming I make any sales) to contend with. But these are the bulk of the up-front costs, and I hope you’ll find them useful. Figures exclude GST.

·        Editing – $600

·        Proofreading – $250

·        Illustration – $1200

·        Design – $2000

·        Printing – $4000

·        Freight – $500 (very roughly, as this part of the process is still to come)         

→Total so far = $9400, which for 1500 books, means that $6.26 per book is production costs.

For a $20 book, where the bookseller takes 40% ($8), and the distributor 25% ($5), and the GST accounts for 15% ($3), you can see the quandary.

Except that it’s not a quandary, if you want to see your book in print. And looking purely at the dollar side of things overlooks the non-monetary gains, one of which has undoubtedly been the enormous help and support I have received from all the book professionals involved: worth every cent!     

It’s a first – twice

I’ve had two pleasant surprises and two firsts in one week.

First (of the firsts) is this online listing for The Bold Ship Phenomenal on Nationwide Book Distributors website.  They’re distributing the book for me, and they’re taking trade pre-orders now.

 

The second first is The Bold Ship Phenomenal’s first review. This is what Sue Copsey says about it on her blog.

“…The Bold Ship Phenomenal, due out later this year, made me cry as I edited it. It’s not a sad book though – the make-you-cry bit is just a small part. The rest is a page-turning adventure with a ship in a bottle as its star, and a strong nature theme. It’s classically New Zealand, but everyone, everywhere will love it. Take my word for it!”

 

Thanks Sue, although I hope there wasn’t too much crying going on (it’s not meant to be sad – well just a smidgen).

So what with two surprises and confirmation that printing is underway in China, it’s been a pretty exciting week all round. The Bold Ship Phenomenal, as a book, rather than a story, is beginning to feel real.

I need a new book-home, writing studio, bum

The really exciting thing about this photo is not my book (unfortunately), but where it’s taken.

The book (lucky thing) is now living in the writing studio of my wonderful writing colleague Dawn McMillan, where it is among very esteemed company (I hope it is behaving).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dawn’s own (numerous) books are consistent best-sellers. In fact, I Need a New Bum (Libro International, 2012), rarely drops off the New Zealand bestseller list, and if it does, it soon bounces its way back up.

 

Why Do Dogs Sniff Bottoms (Penguin NZ, 2008) is also often there, and her recent picture book, Doctor Grundy’s Undies (Libro International, 2014) (about a pair of flash flying undies) is currently sitting on Whitcoulls Top 10 Books for Children list.

Notice in the picture, there's another of Dawn's books there too!

But Dawn doesn’t only write about bottom-related topics. Colour the Stars (Scholastic NZ, 2012) is about a boy describing to his blind friend what colours smell, feel, taste and sound like. What a fabulous idea! And just one of many when it comes to Dawn’s books      

 

But what I am really jealous of (going back to my book and the company it now keeps) is Dawn’s writing studio.

I suffer from shed-envy in general. I really, really love sheds, especially older rustic ones, and when I spot a promising shed, I love to imagine what I would do in it, if it were mine. There is something special about sheds – their self-containment, and sense of promise that they will, in turn, contain the user, freeing the person to create, build or dream, or any of the other things that people like to do in sheds.

But Dawn’s studio (which after all is just a posh shed) is truly one to be coveted. I have only seen it in this picture, but apparently, in addition to being gorgeous, it looks out over the beach.

To me it looks like writing heaven. No wonder Dawn’s books are so good. If you don’t yet know them, or do but want to find out more about Dawn’s shed and what happens there check out her website or blog.

They’re both as full of life as Dawn is, and she also runs a monthly competition to win one of her books.  Here she is with some of her fans from Te Puru school, doing what all good children's writers do best - reading a book.

 

 

 

     

Conversations about self-publishing for the serially challenged 4: dotting your i’s

Looking at the title I chose for this series of blogs, I’m beginning to feel rather less serially challenged than when I began. I realise I’ve learnt a huge amount, along the way. That can only be a good thing if self-, or indie-, or hybrid-publishing is to become more the norm for New Zealand authors. I now have a much better idea of what is involved, and to be honest, it’s very exciting.

In past posts I have talked about it surprised me how creative the editing side of things is. Now as I move more into the actual publishing process what surprises me is how much fun it is. I’m having a blast. I guess that’s not surprising, given I love books (of course I’d enjoy making one of my own), but still it is not what I expected. Lots of work – yes – but very enjoyable too.

A friend who is herself considering self-publishing asked me recently what exactly I have been doing. I sent her the email below, in the hope it would help her process when she reached that stage. I hope it helps yours too.

What you'll need to do:

1.      Finish writing your book.

2.      Get it professionally edited – this step is kind-of optional, if you’re also an editor, but not really if you want a good product. It’s extremely hard to objectively edit your own work.

3.      Get it proofread ­– also only kind-of optional. The last thing you want is errors.

4.      Find and brief a book designer ­– there are plenty. Find one whose covers and internal designs you like, and who produces the type of books (in terms of format) that you’re after.

5.      Find and brief an illustrator – if you are using one. I have been lucky to have a friend whose work I know is wonderful. She’s doing my cover and internal illustrations. Otherwise, you may need to find a cover image you want to use (unless your designer does this for you).

6.      Decide on a publishing name and logo (if you are using one). Also, whether or not you are going to form a company. My accountant has advised the latter may be a good idea if I plan to publish more books, especially by other authors. Something to think about for the future.  

7.      Get an ISBN number, or several if you’re printing in different formats; from the National Library website. A very straightforward process, but you may need to query them if they tell you (as they did me) that you can’t have it until four weeks before the book is printed. Obviously this doesn’t work if you are printing overseas.

8.      Get a barcode – you can do this online. It’s based on your ISBN and costs around $30. I used Barcodes Limited (www.barcodes.co.nz).   

9.      Get quotes from a printer – I got a few, but you could get lots of quotes. There’s a big difference between them. I think I’m going to get the book printed in China, but actually some of the New Zealand quotes I got were getting close, in terms of costs.

10.   Organise a freight agent – if you’re printing overseas, this seems to be cheaper than letting the printers organise the freight, and there should be no hidden costs (fingers crossed). They should itemise all the subsidiary costs you’ll encounter when importing books.

11.   Find a distributor – there are several, but I have found them hard to raise a response from. I am unsure if this is because they are swamped with submissions from self-published authors or, conversely, are not yet used to dealing with them. You may have more luck if you have the designed product to show them. If you do get a response, they will send you their terms of trade, including how much commission they take and where they will try to place your book.

12.   Pay everyone, including the GST on the imported books. Kat says she got stung for this.

13.   Move onto the next big step: receiving, promoting and selling your book.

Whew! No wonder I’ve felt busy. But like I said, all good fun.  

 

The professional edit: Conversations about self-publishing for the serially challenged 3

I am two-thirds of the way through having the manuscript for my hopefully soon to be self-published book, The Bold Ship Phenomenal, edited, and what continues to amaze me is the extent of the changes that I, and now the editor, am making even at this late stage.

I work, in my day job, as a professional writer, so rewriting and rehashing and reimagining are no stranger to me. I actually enjoy them, and have no doubts that they strengthen a piece of writing.

It is the nature and size of these late changes that surprises. The Bold Ship Phenomenal has been through more structural and fine edits than I care to remember. It has been – rewritten, rehashed and reimagined. Yet I find I am revising whole scenes, adding new ones, strengthening connections, embellishing and excising details.

The process feels like tightening a belt, or a net, around the essence of the story, until its clarity is secured.   

I guess what I had not appreciated is how creative the external editing process would be, and in this respect, I feel I have struck it lucky with the editor I have chosen, Sue Copsey.

This no credit to me (all credit to Sue). Sue was a senior editor at Dorling Kindersley in London, before coming to New Zealand and freelancing for several publishing houses here. She is an established children’s writer in her own right.

There were no shortage of good options when I was looking for an external editor (one positive side of the current publishing crunch is that there are lots of talented publishing professionals now offering their skills on a freelance basis). But it was important to me that I found someone with experience working with children’s books. Children’s writing is different. It is magic and inspiration and wonder. Done well, it is transportation and transformation. An editor needs to get that. I feel confident that Sue does.

I’m also very grateful that she’s responded positively to my manuscript (thanks Sue). In the absence of a traditional publisher acting as gatekeeper, it can be hard to remain 100 per cent positive about the calibre of your work. Yet, paradoxically, it becomes even more important to maintain that calibre when you self-publish. This is your work, and there is only you to stand by it, so quality – of story, of process, of the finished product – becomes all.

I’ve found it helps to have supportive writer friends (‘Of course you must do it’), and I’ve also found encouragement to go ahead from an unlooked-for quarter – nature.

I love to walk (like lots of writer I find it a vital part of the creative process) and on recent walks I have increasingly stumbled upon signs from nature that support my decision to publish my story myself.

Now I don’t mean to sound like a fruitcake. I don’t mean that little birds have flown down and tweeted in my ear (or that whales have smiled at me or miniature pirates waved me on). What I have noticed is things in my environment, the west coast New Zealand environment, that have said to me – yes, this is what we are like, this is worth telling, this is wondrous and amazing, uniquely our own, there is a story in this: give it your best shot Sarah, it is worth writing about.

Wooden Arms goes international

Check out this picture of Wooden Arms being read to a class at the Anglo American International School in Moscow.

OK, so it helps that the reader (Nick) is the husband of one of my oldest friends. As a New Zealand children's writer, it's a good idea to have friends (or relatives) with kids in exotic places.  

I wondered what the audience would make of the New Zealand context, but apparently they loved it. I guess the theme of places we have loved and left is a universal one, especially for these international students, and in a city with such glorious buildings as Moscow.

There's a podcast of Wooden Arms being read by Matu Ngaropo on Radio New Zealand's website: you can listen to or download it here.  The recording is part of the Storytime Treasure Chest.

The structural edit: Conversations about self-publishing for the serially challenged 2

Phew! That was a mission.

I smile to see that, when I decided that the first thing I needed to do to get my manuscript – the Bold Ship Phenomenal – ready for publication was give it a structural edit, I allowed myself two weeks to complete the task.

How long has it taken me? Three months.

This is not the first structural edit mind you. In fact, it is probably closer to the twentieth. Yet when I decided to self-publish, it still seemed essential that I do yet another. The reason, I have realised, is the greater burden – to act as both creator and gatekeeper – that rests on the self-published author.

In a traditional publishing model, you (the author) create something and the publisher says ‘yeah’ or ‘nay’. They are the gatekeeper; the arbiter of quality, freshness, appeal, and of being ‘good enough’. As self-publisher you must fulfil this role yourself. It is your work after all and you must stand by it (hopefully with pride) once it takes its place in the world.

Yet, it is a curious concept this ‘good enough’. One of the pitfalls of the traditional model is that good enough can lead to a lack of ambition and sameness in what is being publishing. Conversely, one of the wonders of the new indie publishing scene is the freedom it affords authors to produce and make publically available new and strangely beautiful and unsettling works.

Yet as any good editor will tell you, it is difficult (some would say impossible) for a writer to gain sufficient distance from their work to see what needs to be done to bring it onto its finest form.
Hence the delay. Rather than being a straightforward matter of shifting bits around, my structural edit has been an angst process of asking ‘Is this right?’, ‘Could this be better?’, ‘Will this appeal to readers in the way I intend, or is the appeal limited to me?’. In short: ‘Is this good enough?’

I have been cheered in this process by Austin Kleon, whose small books (Steal Like an Artist and Show Your Work) I stumbled upon mid-way through. Austin takes a pragmatic and enabling approach to the creative process, urging people to trust in the value of their creativity and put its products out there. (You can listen to his manifesto on stealing like an artist here.)
 

Of particular value was his insight (in Show Your Work) that “you don’t have to be a genius”.  Everyone, he argues, has something to contribute, and it is OK to “be an amateur”.

“Amateurs are not afraid to make mistakes or look ridiculous in public. They’re in love, so they don’t hesitate to do work that others think of as silly or just plain stupid,” he says (Workman Publishing, New York, p.15).

So it is with The Bold Ship Phenomenal. I do love this story. It carries part of me in it. So I must act like an amateur and be willing to put it out there and potentially look ridiculous in public, while at the same time doing everything in my power to make it ‘good enough’. I owe it – I feel – to the story and to the readers who will (again hopefully) one day share it.