Showing posts with label book reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book reviews. Show all posts

Thursday, 17 May 2012

E-publishing vs self-publishing


A Seal of Approval
A fellow author, fed up of rejection, decided to self-publish (SP). He knew I’d self-published my memoir in 2009 and was surprised that I’d chosen to go with epublishers, Crooked {Cat} with my novel. His question was, ‘Why settle for less than 100% royalties and total control over your book?’
It was precisely because of my experience of self-publishing that I was determined to find a ‘proper’ publisher for my novel. Although, my memoir was relatively successful, as SP books go, 100% control also means 100% of the work. I had to research printers, organise all of the promotion and a million other things that I’d never done before. And I was fortunate in having a publisher, Richard Netherwood, to mentor me through the process, helping me avoid the many traps that await the novice. Most of my sales were through public speaking engagements, which are time consuming and stressful (something else I’d never done before).
My debut novel, Once Removed, doesn’t fit easily into current genres. Coupled with the economic crisis, this made bigger publishers reluctant to take on my book. But there is a growing, thriving epublishing market out there, often eager to take on new authors and those with an unusual “voice”.
But do your research before submitting. Check out their portfolio. Use the “look inside” feature on Amazon to see the quality of their books. Visit the author blogs, perhaps even contact an author or two to see what they thought of the publisher. If a publisher wants money from you, walk away!
Not every SP author realises the vital importance of professional editing. Some have never even sought feedback on their manuscript before going to print and it shows. There’s an enormous amount of amateur dross out there and it taints all SP work. Many reviewers won’t review SP books because of this. Publishers understand that their reputation is fundamental and work hard to protect it.
Members of my writers’ group gave me feedback on early drafts of Once Removed and I’d also had it professionally appraised. Then Crooked {Cat} Publishing did three further rounds of edits to polish it even further, ensuring professionalism.
Publishers understand the market and know which reviewers are best suited to different genres. I was provided with ten free copies to use in promoting my book along with suggestions and encouragement. Crooked {Cat} also approached reviewers on my behalf. A request from a trusted publisher is more likely to be taken up than one by an unknown author.
Crooked {Cat} provide support directly and through three Internet writers’ groups. This enables all their authors to share ideas, review each other’s books and pass recommendations on to their friends. The whole experience is less overwhelming and much more exciting.
Because the sales go through the publisher, filling in tax returns are easier, too. Dealing with US sales has been complicated and I’ve yet to be paid for some of the books I’ve sold over there.
Being published means someone is prepared to risk their time and effort on your work and that is worth a lot to me as an author but also to readers. You still have to put in the time and energy to promote your work but you do it with the confidence of that seal of approval.

Thursday, 3 May 2012

Win a copy of Once Removed


To celebrate the release of Once Removed, I'm offering a free electronic copy. All you need to do is write the name of your favourite book reviewer in the comment box below. (Ulterior motive ~ me ~ as if??)

To win a copy, simply comment below, not forgetting your email address

Excerpt:
The shriek scraped down my spine. Hugging my black cardigan more tightly around myself, I stopped. The noisy teenagers flowing in the direction of the school cafeteria barely paused.

Scanning the crowd, I fervently wished for someone more senior. But only chattering children, shuffling and laughing, pushed past. A deep sigh deflated me. Clearly, I still had plenty to learn about vanishing during break times. Tempted to pretend I hadn’t heard, the memory shivered along my back and forced me to respond.


Wading through the torrent into a shadowy side corridor in the direction of the scream, the small knot of gawpers melted away. Megan, a tall year seven girl, slumped against the grubby wall squeezing her hand in front of her like a gun. Blood dripped from two fingers pointed at the other girl. Freckles glared from Beth’s pale face cowering beneath bushy ginger hair. The low growl of obscenities pouring from Megan’s white lips stopped as soon as she saw me.


It didn’t make sense. Megan was a pretty girl, confident and always followed by a crowd of hangers-on. She was too polite in class, all angel-eyes standing in the midst of the trouble she’d stirred up. Beth, on the other hand, sat alone in the furthest corner. Watching the river of young people cascade through the corridors, this girl had seemed an island protected by a reef of sadness. Not your classic bully. A craft knife, glittered amongst the spilled contents of a discarded bag on the floor.


“Well?” I asked, pushing my dark rimmed glasses back up my nose and looking from one girl to the other. Brilliant, Abby, just brilliant, you are way out of your depth here. Trust you to land up in the middle of Marfield High School’s first ever knife crime!


“It was an accident, Miss.” Pulling herself upright, Megan flicked back her carefully styled hair. The shiny blonde layers settled over darker roots. “I picked up Beth’s bag by mistake. Isn’t that right, Beth?”


I was surprised Megan’s laser fierce glare hadn’t set Beth’s school uniform on fire. The child looked smaller than ever beside an in-charge Megan. The ginger head dipped in agreement.


“I was scrabbling around for my phone when I caught my fingers on that blade.” Megan pointed with her dripping finger.


“Beth,” my tone was as gentle as I could make it, “why did you have a knife in your bag? You must know it’s against school rules?”


The girl opened her mouth and furrowed her brow a few times before any words came. “Art class... didn’t realise... must have dropped it in my bag without thinking.”


Beth looked as though she’d been caught running naked down Marfield’s High Street and would disintegrate if any more fuss were made. But she was lying. Despite my inexperience as a teacher, I could tell. Scenarios flashed across my mind and none of them were pleasant. I didn’t know what to do. I thumbed my glasses back into place. My university lecturer’s voice sang in my memory. When in doubt, feign confident authority. I took a deep breath.


“Right, Beth, you go on your way to lunch. I’ll make sure this craft knife gets back to the art department.” I swooped down and plucked the blade from the rest of the debris. “Megan, you come with me and we’ll put something on those cuts. Perhaps you’ll be more careful whose bag you pick up in future.”


I stormed off, my heels rattling in the now empty corridor. Megan marched beside me, radiating fury.
My mind spun and fizzed. Megan always had an answer for everything so why wasn’t she kicking off now? I peered at her through the corner of my eye and noticed she had a leather bag slung over her shoulder, quite different from Beth’s canvas one. The bag she claimed to have picked up by accident.
Slamming through the door into the office I stopped. Anger wouldn’t help. I took a deep breath and reached for the first aid kit.


“Show me your hand, please, Megan. Are you allergic to plasters?”


She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Her jaws were clamped tight.


I cleaned the wounds and applied butterfly plasters, careful to follow school
procedures to the letter.


“Please sign here.” I pointed to my brief entry in the accident book. “Can I go now?” Megan glared at me.


Unable to think of a single sensible question, I nodded.