Aiming for Amazon: a change of heart

So, the self-published friend, Charles Sheehan-Miles, recommended the book "Aiming at Amazon" by Aaron Shephard.

I have bought it. I am tapping my foot, waiting for delivery, and I will no doubt use it to fuel some debate here.

The change of heart was that I had thought to publish on Lulu, for those who haven't been keeping up. Shame on you.

Readings: Nothing to fear but ... jiggling journalists?

Ben Myers posted a funny article about authors and self-publicity in the Guardian today. The subject is the public readings of one's work.

"I would genuinely rather jiggle my bare genitals at an audience than do that."

*peers at the small photo of Ben Myers beside his article and smirks a little, a twinkle in her eye*

H'okay. I'm a secret show-off. Is that an oxymoron? I don't mean that I pretend not to like public speaking, I wouldn't go around saying "Oh noooooooo I couldn't!" while all the time knowing that I damn well could and wanted to.

But if you met me, you might not realise that I love public speaking, I like to hold an audience, I like to be the centre of (positive) attention. Ninja-like, I sneak my enthusiasm in there at the right moment. I just don't run around announcing it.

Aside from mention of the Myers' Family Jewels, the best thing about this article was the debate around the question of if it was fair to demand that authors should read their work in public.

Fair, when did fair come into it? I remember reading a recent article on Harper Lee and wondered how she has managed to remain such a recluse. Is it genius, that can afford to live above the hard graft of the rest of us?

I still plan to do readings. It will be nerve-wracking, underwear-changing stuff, I know. I might try and hire Ben Myers as my fluffer, if he'll jiggle.

My name is Jackie and I'm a typing perv

The BBC exploited the alleged reasons why we type using QWERTY. It's all quite interesting, my brain and imagination likes these kinds of "this is the amazing history of how XYZ developed" exposés.

What peturbed - nay, made me practically scoff at one of the closing paragraphs was the mere suggestion that we might "do away with" typing because voice recognition was advancing.

Uh. No. She's missing something here.

Call me a pervert (many will, in fact, and not only because I like to hang out in stationers' and finger the reams of A4 and fist the pretty notebooks) - but I like typing.

I began typing on my mum's old Remington Portable. I remember the 'n' key was slightly knackered, offset, twisted. I played with the carriage release, all those
pretty clicks. The bell was pleasing. Some sounds are just .... too yummy.

I graduated onto a modern typewriter, which did not have the same impact upon me as I can't remember what kind it was though I do recall it was grey plastic rather than smart black and silver metal with a leather-like covering on the plywood base. It was an 18th birthday present, practical but without soul. The 'n' key worked, for a start.

University saw me learning what a computer was - a Mac, as it happens. These were the 1980s, after all, and still the only significant computer time I had ever had, thus far, had been on a ZX81.

I have a PC now, and plastic QWERTY is my friend. I need to keep my nails fairly short - in fact, the process of typing is more pleasing to me with shorter nails.

Is it the rhythm? Is it the clunk of the keys - and we all know, each keyboards has its own personality, its unique sound and the way the keys depress.

Is it the slide of skin across the shiny faux-cubes? Is it the sexiness of the process itself - thought to finger to key to screen to audience? Is it that I'm a pervert? Who knows. Who cares?

Incidentally, my phone also has QWERTY but I don't get the same .. y'know.

*would light a post-coital cigarette now, if she still smoked*

Self-publishing for dummies?

Honestly, I don't know. But a friend who has already self-published, and who has generated a small income from it, has recommended I read this book before I jump into Lulu.

The book is "Aiming at Amazon" by Aaron Shephard (here is his blog). It could be a revelation. It might be rubbish. I don't know. When I can buy it, I will come back to it here.

I plan to buy it with my first pay cheque from a new job. New job involves writing, lots of it, and in a fun way, not in a this-is-like-a-battery-farm-for-journalists way, which is what many of us experience. Self-publishing will be slightly delayed as a result - but bankruptcy will be avoided.

I Write Like ...?

*gigglesmirk*

The Guardian recently published an article on the I Write Like website. You can paste some of your writing into the system and it assesses your style against writers included in its database and says who you most write like.

I put in two sections from Annie, the Doll, its Thief and Her Lover - one for Kate, one for Simon.

When I wrote from Kate's point of view, I write like Vladimir Nabokov.

When I write from Simon's point of view, I write like James Joyce.

I think both characters would be pleased: Kate with her high-brow pretensions and Simon with his very earthy perspective.

The website congratulates you, then asks if you would 'like to write better'.

Um.

Here comes the sun?

Due to some job interviews, two bad colds and a knee injury (my cat disables me
while I sleep) and the INCESSANT RAIN, I have not been able to get to the rowan wood to retake my cover photo.

Lame? I was. I also had a foot operation recently which has slowed me down somewhat but that's another story, and one I'll reserve for 'if I get the time to set up the foot fetish website' blog. I think that story only holds fascination value for podiatrists and certain other niche audiences. Trust me. Oh, and my mother.

Anyway. Lame? No, really, I have washed the doll's clothing and straightened out the
lace on her bonnet and I'm all set to go. The rain has other ideas. When the sun
comes out with its own hat on, it quickly hides beneath an umbrella. Should I be
surprised? This is Rossendale, after all, and we've had the last three summers drowned.

When I have my cover shot I can complete the print version and produce the PDFs of the cover and internal pages for the e-book. I've looked at the options for publishing an e-book. The simplest is a PDF. I'm no technophobe and the other
options seem ridiculously complicated to me - as I have lamented in a previous post.

We'll ignore the fact, for now, it might be my creative side rebelling against becoming more business-savvy, or my fear of success, or any of those things. Or this
post will never end.

Fingers crossed for more sun. Just a couple of hours. Please?

Writers walk the extra mile alone

It came to the point this week where I faced the challenge of preparing my novel for print.

The process made me twitch a bit. On two levels.

First, the technical process. Lulu, the self-publishing service I have decided to go with, has the pixel equivelant of reams and reams of advice, of how to, of what to, of when to.

Honestly, it's a bit of a headf*ck. I'm the kind of person who learns from doing and from being told, I like to have someone to show me how to do these things. Yeah, quite a challenge for the part of me that still dreams of an editor/publisher organising all this for me.

Secondly, I'm aware that I am the only proper critic for my novel. I'm not sure why this is. My friends have busy lives. My husband said in March, when I completed it, how he couldn't wait to read it. He's busy too.

It's more than tempting to spend time in a funk, convincing myself they haven't got the time because they think it won't be worth their time. Maybe they do think that. At the end, I suppose, we're on our own in this. Are we strong enough to take the next steps without aid and support?

My brief sojourn into HarperCollins' Authonomy was ... interesting, I did get some useful feedback on my first 10,000 words but it's a massive time-waster - what do you mean, it's polite to reciprocate reviews? I haven't got all day to sit reading other people's stuff when I should be looking at my own.

So, I am seeking to publish a story that nobody else had read from start to finish. Meeps. I am relying upon my own judgement, my own skills. What are these skills and how did I get them? Well, as a journalist I understand ruthless editing, for a start. That's a professional skill: HURRAH!

Nothing remains that should be culled, I'm fairly sure not much has sneaked through in that respect. But what about my characters, my pace, my resolution?

Prepping my manuscript for print was an exercise in self-belief. And again, I can't stress how the process of creating the file for my A5 paperback gave me that sense of making my dream real. I had done everything I knew, and everything on the Lulu checklist and it still didn't look right. I compared it to a paperback copy of The Road Less Travelled by M. Scott Peck, which is roughly the same size. Then I realised - margins! Once I had adjusted these, it resembled ... a book!

I've stopped twitching, for now.