Two weeks ago I did something that I had been day-dreaming about for weeks and weeks. No, for months and months. I went to the post office and sent off the copies of the anthology to the eleven contributors.
This anthology, which stemmed from the short story competition I ran last year, is a little, unassuming book of barely one hundred pages, yet I can assure you that getting it finished in this shape has been as easy as moving house, getting a divorce or squeezing out a baby.
You may feel that I am starting out on the wrong key here and that I should do what writers of sites usually do. HEY LOOK AT MY LATEST WORK IT WAS A LABOUR OF LOVE! SQUEEEEE! Then a flurry of replies follow and everyone skips into the sunset, flapping a signed copy of said book. Oh, yuk, no siree, what happened here was a marathon run twenty times over, with a handful of firey hurdles thrown in across the last seven miles.
Having previously worked in publishing for a small house, I must tell you that I had already come across some of the issues I would later encounter as a one-woman band. But when you are dealing with problems, yet are part of a small team, you can all encourage one another while exchanging emails of the 'we'll get there' sort. All the emails I was getting throughout this adventure were (well-meaning, let's be clear) questions about where the anthology was at and as I was struggling to pull it all together, they started to make me feel a little worried about the finished product, even though there was no logical reason to doubt it. So, if you too are thinking of jumping from mere writer to fully-fledged publisher, here are my lessons learnt from the wonderful The Creative Identity Short Story Competition.
1- You don't know how long something is going to take unless you've done it ten times backwards. Then, budget three times over, multiply by four and have a contingency plan of six weeks in place.
At the end of August last year, I sent off an email that read along the lines of 'CONGRATULATIONS, you're going to be in the anthology!'. Yet, it wasn't until December that I could start working on the stories which I even began typing up myself (this is not a joke), so not to give extra work to the competition entrants. Immediately after Crimbo, I changed my mind and requested digital copies from all. A few days later, I heard from one of the shortlisted authors who told me that, even though her story had been accepted by me, she had submitted it elsewhere anyway, on counts of not having heard anything further. Never mind the announcements sent off via Creative Times, never mind my constant presence on Twitter, on here, via email, every-bloody-where. It certainly didn't help that I had already typed up her story and that I was consulting with others about the anthology as a whole; I retained my dignity in my emailed reply but below the surface I was absolutely steaming furious.
After this, countless, seemingly never-ending hassles started when I did have the digital copy of the anthology and I was ready to have it printed and bound. You'd think that professional printers should know what they are doing but, alas, unless you're using someone that also Penguin/Collins and the like are using, you're likely to run into trouble (or pay £10 for a decent copy). It wasn't until July that I could post the copies out to the contributors.
2- You don't know how much something is going to cost until you've sent the very last payment and have been to the post office seven times over.
I had figured out that a super-small print run wouldn't cost very much, even though I must say that by 'very much' I didn't quite know what I was seeking. £100? £250? £10? I consulted with a few people from my posse and sent off for a few quotes from online printers and I was shocked to find out that the best deal out there was in the region of £6 per copy, not unless I was printing thousands. Once I got over this, I figured that it didn't matter because I was committed to get the stories out regardless and that... what are six-hundred quid in the grand scheme of my life? One pair of Louboutins with change for a Starbucks and a Vogue, that's what. And I already have ninety-three pairs of shoes and a sub to Vogue anyway. I pressed on.
Printer Number One told me that it would be no prob and that I could get as few as fifty copies if I wanted them. By this time (beginning of February), I was edgy because, even though I had zoomed through the proof, getting quotes and having conversations was getting tiring and time-consuming. So I went for those who told me that they could get me a proof copy out by the end of that very week. Great. Done. Then the week elapsed. Then the next. I am generally good-natured but I must say that I was this close to exploding when I received a third email of excuses with the promise that the proof would be with me by the end of the following week. It never came. I never followed up.
Printer Number Two was swift in producing a proof exactly to my spec, except I did not realise that there was a mistake in the cover, a mistake that was all my doing. I had told my digital artist that the title was 'I Believe My Teeth Are Falling Out', while the correct version was 'I Think My Teeth Are Falling Out'. Ronnie, if you're reading this, it's evident that, at a subconscious level, I must have thought that BELIEVE was better than THINK. Still, while I considered for a split second to ask Ronnie whether he would be ok with a change (I kid you not), I consulted with the digital artist and got another cover within a couple of days. Thank God someone had come to work (thank you G).
Meanwhile, 100 copies had already been printed and it was only after some incensing that the printer cut me some slack and I only had to pay 75% of the printing price. When the parcel arrived, I put it straight into the recycling box. Once the book was re-proofed and re-sent to print, I received a shipment whose covers were warped. I don't mean a little bit warped, I mean so warped that it looked like they had macerated in water and had been hung out to dry. I decided that the combination of my mistake with theirs was too ominous a sign. We parted ways.
Printer Number Three had been recommended by a friend of mine. They were really nice and sounded really knowledgeable over the phone so I went for the ride. This was during that flipping April full of holidays... May had rolled in before I received the proof copy which had been printed upside down. I know that we all make mistakes (see above) but... I don't know, call me callous if you will, this seemed a bit too glaring a mistake to let slip. I called and said I had changed my mind.
Printer Number Four was my salvation for he produced in mere days a fabulous proof that was exactly to spec. I sent back a list of very minor amendments and requested a full print-run. Then Disaster Struck. He had a car accident and closed shop for ten days. As I had a good feeling about him, I decided to sit it out but I was sweating (cold) buckets because I had already announced to the writers that the anthology would be with them within a couple of days. Huge, huge, huge mistake, see point 5 below.
As days ticked by, I was absolutely certain that those people were thinking me an incompetent fraud. These were not happy times dear reader. Then one morning I heard from the printer who told me that everything was ready to go. Because of the protracted wait, he suggested he would post the anthologies directly to the contributors, which seemed a very good idea to me. But I had even a better idea! Yes! I went off and had special postcards printed (featuring the cover of the anthology) and wrote personal messages on each of these. I then posted them out to the man to include in the copies. Another week went by and when I heard that the postcards had still not reached him (and, most importantly, the precious anthologies were all printed to spec and ready to go) I screamed down the phone to send all to me, I would post them from here.
Delivery was attempted one Tuesday morning at the beginning of July when I went out for one wretched hour. I scheduled re-delivery as quickly as I could (for the following Thursday) and sent yet another email update to my writers to apologise yet again. When the postman came on Thursday, I sat down, wrote the envelopes and the cards, and sorted everything out for an immediate post office run. With a foot out of the door and the eleven treasured envelopes under my arm, it occurred to me that I had not actually checked them.
I was certain I didn't need to (what the hell was there to check? The proof was fine), but something subliminal told me to do so. I flipped to the back and saw that Nik's afterword was missing. My blood froze solid. The afterword is missing. I ripped one envelope and checked another anthology. Same. I ripped them all out and they were all in the same sorry state. You can imagine what followed (no, actually, you can't imagine). Suffice to say the printer promised another print-run at no extra cost (wow, that was generous!) in double-quick time. The double-quick time yielded another eleven days' wait but at the end of July all anthologies were finally delivered to the writers. I had made it.
3- Don't assume that everyone knows what 'Times New Roman size 12 and justified' means.
This is self-explanatory.
4- Trust the good will of people everywhere but keep in mind that if you want something doing, you're most likely better off doing it yourself. If you can't do it yourself, see point 1 above.
I have absolutely no reason to believe that anyone who was involved in the issues I outlined above was being an unprofessional ass maliciously. Absolutely less than zero reasons to think so. But whatever the root of the problems (apart from my own mistake in the title), I am 100% positive that, unless you can see a book to completion from idea to object, there will be something for which you will depend on others. Limit this to the very bare minimum. Become as proficient in as much as you possibly can for your sanity, for your family's sanity, for the sanity of everyone you're dealing with, on and off the book.
5- Don't ever come out with a release date until you have the copies in your fist.
Or rather, until that copies have pretty much reached their final destination, see point 2 above. In the corporate world this is known as 'under-promise and over-deliver' which, while sounding like an oxymoron, really means 'promise little and deliver lots'. It should be the mantra you live by insofar as projects are concerned.
5- Don't communicate anything unless someone specifically asks you a question or point 5 above takes place. Even then, stay breezy, non-committal, give answers that don't really answer anything or suffer at the hand of your very enthusiasm.
Believe it or not, the hardest part of all was not hemorraging money, time or effort, but rather thinking that someone, somewhere may think me an unreliable person whose word doesn't mean anything. Well dear reader, my word is a word of honour, but documenting all of these set-backs to a group of people who has never even met me if not via this site would have sounded pathetic, even unbelievable. As I do believe that actions speak louder than words, I knew that I needed to concentrate on getting the book out there and not making excuses for its delay, even though the set-backs were real and not impagined. So I put my head down and fended off the problems as best as I could.
And do you know something? It was well worth it. I received a flurry of messages soon after delivery and they all made it worth it many times over. There's much excitement in the air from all of us regarding the release of this small book for sale, when it will go out into the world with my own logo and its very own ISBN. But, of course, I should tell you that the person who is working on that one is relocating from Australia to New Zealand so... you know what they say... we're going for a walk, we may be some time...
Printers are the bane of my existence (have spent the past two years trying to find a good, cheap, reliable one for Inkspill Magazine). What were the printers you used? I'd be really interested to know - especially the last one, which seemed quite good. (Feel free to email me if you don't want to name and shame in public!)
Wow, this sounded like a very stressful and expensive project! I'm sure the finished result was worth the wait for contributors though. Congratulations on completion!
Posted by: Sophie Playle | 08 August 2011 at 09:20
Steph- I received your post card from th Liberate You Art project. I love your single line flowers. I read your post and I would have to say that I might have given up on the whole process halfway through with all those events. Kudos to you for seeing it through. I hope that getting the book released for sale.
Cara
Posted by: Cara | 09 August 2011 at 02:17