There aren’t many writers bringing home big wads of cash. As
in many creative industries, there are a few big earners at the top,
outnumbered a thousand to one by people at the bottom who earn very little.
With so many writers at the bottom eager to see their book in a book store,
publishers can pay relatively trivial amounts to new authors. Many give up on
traditional publishing and try self-publishing. Unfortunately, so many are
desperate to find readers that they often give away their work. The ease of
self-publishing creates a huge pool of new books competing for the attention of
a limited pool of readers, and we’ve trained many of those readers to think a
fair price to pay for a book is nothing.
Good news: It’s easier than ever to make a living as a
writer!
There are two key revolutions in the publishing world that
make it easier to pursue either a traditional publishing path or a
self-publishing career. Traditional publishers used to be concentrated in a few
major cities, and New York is still home to many big name publishers. Meeting
the editors for these publisher or the agents who worked with them meant
travelling to conventions and hoping to schmooze at a party or introduce
oneself on an elevator. Social media has changed all this. I’m acquainted
online with dozens of professionals in the industry and we respond to each
other’s posts all the time. If I send an editor I have a relationship with
online something to take a look at, they’ll probably read it in a more positive
light than something from a complete stranger. Also, social media has
revolutionized the spread of publishing information. There was a time you had
to subscribe to trade magazines to get news about new imprints at publishing
houses, or get the names of newly hired editors, or learn what anthologies were
open to submissions. Now, this information is freely available to anyone who
cares to look for it.
But an even bigger transformation in the industry is the
self-publishing revolution. It used to be that getting your book into print
meant getting past the gatekeepers at the big publishing houses. Today, Amazon
has thrown the gate wide open. As a self-publisher you have free access to the
digital shelves of the largest bookstore that’s ever existed. And Amazon isn’t
the only platform. Google, Apple, Nook, Kobo, and other stores are also open to
your content. Ebooks have a low initial cost to take live, and even print books
are easy to print and sell thanks to print on demand platforms like
Createspace. Turning your book into an audio book isn’t terribly difficult and
expands your potential audience. On many of these platforms, your audience
isn’t limited to America. Each month, I see revenue from Canada, Australia, the
United Kingdom, India, and even occasional sales from places where English
isn’t the primary language, like Japan and Germany. A great thing about these
online sales is that most of the platforms pay generous royalties, have easy to
follow accounting that lets you see your sales data updated each day, and
direct deposit the income you’ve earned on a monthly basis. With traditional
publishing, you often go six months between paychecks, assuming you ever earn
out your advances. Unless your electric bill only comes every six months, the
monthly revenue stream is a welcome change from the traditional model.
Finally, with self-publishing, you never need to let a book
go out of print. There’s a concept known as the long tail. For a newly released
book, you make most of your money in the first few months it’s in print, then
sales start to decline. With traditional publishers, once your book falls below
a certain threshold of sales, they’ll remainder what books they have less and take
the book out of print. Your revenue for that book comes to an end. With
self-publishing, your books keep earning small amounts of money year after
year. It adds up. It might not sound impressive that I have some old titles
that only earn me ten or twenty dollars a month, but I can look at my sales
data and see that some of these books have earned a thousand dollars or more
long after the point where a traditional publisher would have taken it out of
print. With enough titles in print, a self-published author can cobble together
something approaching a steady income. Not a flamboyant, extravagant income,
but long before I was earning enough to leave behind my day job I passed
through years where I was earning at least a hundred bucks each month. If
you’re in an economic class where an extra hundred bucks a month won’t make a difference
in your life, congratulations! For many struggling writers, though, that hundred
bucks a month makes them hungry for more.
Bad news: The world is full of far more talented writers
than you can ever hope to be.
Wow. That’s a bummer. But it’s something you’ll need to
learn to live with. I write epic fantasy, but I don’t have a lot of hope that
one day I’ll be praised as better than Tolkien or George R.R. Martin. I also
write humorous science fiction, but have yet to read a review saying how much
funnier my stuff is than Hitchhiker’s
Guide to the Galaxy. I don’t know that I’ll ever write a book as tight and
disturbing as Jim Thomson’s The Grifters,
or as full of madness and truth and poetry as Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I can
list you a hundred classic novels that fill me both with admiration and despair.
It’s not just classics. Every year, great books by new authors win awards and
critical acclaim and turn their authors into legends in literary circles. I
admire great books. I cherish them as the highest art form mankind has yet
created. But that same love of literature often leaves me feeling like I’m
coming up short. Maybe I’m never going to write a book that changes the world.
Maybe I’m always going to be a pale shadow compared to these towering titans of
literature. Maybe my chosen genres of dragons and superheroes keep me from my
full potential, and make me more of an entertainer than a true author.
More bad news: The world is full of writers who are much
worse than you. Many produce best-sellers, sign movie deals, and fill
auditoriums with fans when they go on tour.
For me, this is even harder to deal with than seeing great
writers getting the attention they deserve. Seeing hacks win acclaim and earn
fortunes leaves me wondering if success isn’t all luck, or, if it’s not luck,
if I’m just so isolated from my own culture that I’ll never understand what it
takes to write a popular book.
Good News: You’re more than talented enough to write stories
people will find important.
After my novel Bitterwood
was released, I got a fan letter. It was from a twelve year old boy who loved
my book but was wondering whether or not I believed in God. He could see all
the religious imagery I was drawing into my work. Some of my characters quote
the Bible outright, and others make allusions to Biblical tales. But, the book
also features a prophet named Hezekiah who is something of a monster who
preaches a very violent, dark, Old Testament ideology that allows him to kill
in the name of the Lord. I could sense a subtext in his letter. Since he was
young but familiar with the Bible, he was probably from a religious family. But
the way he asked the question made me think he had doubt, and my book had
likely contributed to those doubts. And that one fan letter to this day does
more to keep me writing than anything else. I have no idea where that young fan
arrived at philosophically, but it was plain that my book was something he’d actually
thought about. I can point to books I read when I was young that changed my
whole world view. Not all of these were classics. I had a taste for cheesy
science fiction novels that would now be dismissed as pulp. I don’t even recall
the many of the titles or the authors. But these books still changed me,
opening up a love of science and a love of adventure, and not just the
adventures you find on a page. Stories about people travelling to other planets
inspired me to want to go out and explore my own planet. And many of these
stories made heroes of smart, knowledgeable people. Engineers, chemists,
historians, linguists… they all have their roles to play in the spread of human
civilization among the stars and it made me admire such people. I can assure
you, a lot of these books were dreadful. To take a well-known example, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea is a
beloved classic still widely read. I think it’s about as poorly written as a novel
can get. The characters are wooden, the plot meandering, the pacing atrocious,
the dialogue stiff and inhuman. But, despite my dislike of the book, I have
many well-read, intelligent friends I respect who count it among their favorite
novels.
Ultimately, believing in the worthiness of your fiction is
going to take a little faith. Strive to write the best book you can. Brace
yourself to the indifference of roughly seven billion fellow inhabitants of the
planet. Trust that somewhere out there is your reader, the one person who is
going to pick up your book at the right moment in her life and absolutely
cherish every word.
Bad news: Learning to write well takes years of practice.
No one expects to sit down at a piano the first time and
play a beautiful melody. Learning any musical instrument is going to require
years of plinking and clunking and off-tempo faltering that will only in the
most superficial way resemble a song.
The same is true of writing a novel. You’re going to have
false starts. You’re going to write characters no one has any reason to like,
pursuing goals no one understands, across pages filled with prose that not
everyone will be able to untangle. Maybe a few geniuses escape this harsh
reality, but the vast majority of mankind must write a lot of crap before they
become merely competent at writing a book. And, like a musical instrument, you
can’t learn just how to write that one book. A pianist can’t learn to press the
keys for just one song. There are scales to learn, musical theory to absorb,
and a whole separate written language of musical notation that must be
mastered.
To write a novel well, you’ve got to learn to craft
realistic characters. You’ve got to engineer a compelling plot. You’ll need to
ground your characters in a specific setting. Your writing style needs to be
comprehensible. And you’ll need something worth saying, some theme or moral
that breathes life into the piece and elevates it above a rote reporting of the
events of your character’s life. All of these things take work to master. Sometimes
you’ll need years to finally figure out how to handle all of these elements.
Good News: You've already had years of practice.
You started learning to write before you were
born. There is strong evidence that during the last two months of gestation
babies can hear their mother’s voice in the womb and learn to recognize the
patterns of language. You mastered your native tongue at a very early age, and
while you might not have understood all the subtleties and niceties of language,
you knew it well enough to laugh at puns, understand riddles, and grasp
metaphorical speech. If your mother ever told you your room looked like a pig
sty, odds are you didn’t take her literally. It’s quite likely you had never
even seen an actual pig sty, but still grasped her meaning.
You have a long term fluency with metaphorical and symbolic
language. You also likely were learning stories before you could even read, and
making up your own stories well before you went to school.
As far as characters go, well, you know people. And, you
know yourself. While there are a few tips and tricks I’ll get to in a different
essay about how to create interesting characters, the heart and soul of
character creation is simply knowing yourself, understanding your own wants and
desires, your strengths and weaknesses, and the origins of these traits. You
also need empathy, the ability and desire to not just understand other people,
but to feel like they feel. You likely mastered this at a very early age.
As for setting, you have never spent a moment of your life
separated from one. You’re always somewhere. Even if you don’t want to set your
story where you are at this moment, you’ll be surprised at how much fictional detail
you can draw from your immediate surroundings and your own travels.
As for having something important to say, you’ve been on the
planet for a while. You’ve learned stuff. If you’ve been paying attention,
you’ve gotten angry at some injustice or other, and wonder why the rest of the
world isn’t equally angry. And, if you’ve been paying attention, you’ve
discovered beautiful things, and want to tell everyone about this beauty.
You’ve been training to be a writer from the day you were
born. All those boring writing assignments you did in school… you were a
pianist practicing your scales. You’ve got every skill you need to write a good
book simply by virtue of having lived a life. What makes writing a novel hard
is the difference between knowing how to catch a ball and knowing how to juggle
chainsaws. You have to take simple skills and use them all at once, in a way
that looks effortless. Sometimes, you’ll gaze at a chainsaw juggler and feel
envious that he’s only keeping three chainsaws in the air, while you’re trying
to juggle ten major characters, three plot thread, and five different settings.
It’s not the easiest thing in the world. On the positive side, there’s very
little risk of having your fingers chopped off. You’ve chosen wisely in
pursuing novel writing over chainsaw juggling, I think. That choice was first
step toward greatness!
1 comment:
James:
Have you ever read "Rork!" by Avram Davidson? I read it as a child, and it really made an impression on me. The ending was a surprise...and it kept me reading science fiction to this day...books like it, and others like "Planet of the Double Sun", "The Spinner", the "IceRigger" trilogy by Alan Dean Foster... Many of these books today would be considered "novellas" - they are pretty short.
But I think actually with people having been conditioned to have short attention spans by television and film, the novella format is probably coming back into vogue.
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