Things You Should Know About Publishing

I try to keep things more reader-focused around here, but every  now and then I run across something that I feel like I ought to go ahead and share, on the off chance that you’re, in addition to being a reader, an aspiring author (or heck, even an already-published one!) So if you’re purely a reader, I apologize for this brief author intrusion.

Before I got my first contract, there was so much I didn’t know about publishing. I mean, I had the basics down, I’d done my research, but that really only gets you so far. I started off, as most do, thinking I wanted an agent and then a contract with a big publishing house. I might still at some point want those things – though I may also dip my toes into the indie waters, too. If I’ve learned anything at all over the last two years of being published, it’s that there’s no cookie cutter publishing experience that’s perfect for everyone.

But even if there isn’t that perfect cookie cutter joy, there are a few things that I’ve learned (the hard way. Because I apparently like learning things the hard way) that I hope will save someone out there the pain of learning it first-hand. And it really all boils down to managing your expectations and your reactions to things.

Signing a publishing contract is a lot like being a single parent and then getting married. You’ve had your baby all to yourself for the last X number of years and sure, there have been people in and out of your life who have helped you raise that baby, but the buck has always stopped with you. You’ve been one hundred percent in charge of your baby. And so, naturally, you’re very proud of this child. You love the child. And you’re protective of the child.

Then along comes Mr. Right. You’re a great fit for one another and, happy day, he loves your child and wants to adopt him as his own! So you marry and Mr. Right takes on your child as his own and, even happier day, you decide together that he’ll be the primary at-home parent for your child. Well, then Mr. Right comes to you and has suggestions of things that he’d like to see changed in the way the baby’s being raised. After all, he’s given the baby his name, and he wants to have the same love and pride in the baby as you do. But…it’s your baby! And, it may come to pass, that Mr. Right points out several of the bratty tendencies you’ve always overlooked in the baby, because really, it’s a very cute baby and are they really that bad? Mr. Right says yes, they really are that bad. And he sets about to change them.

What do you do?

Well, you can try discussing them and see if there’s some room for negotiation. But at the end of the day, Mr. Right is more in charge of the baby than you are. And while some concessions may work out, there’s the possibility that changes need to happen to make the baby even more fabulous than it currently is, even though they’re hard and require work on your part.

Mr. Right, obviously, is the publisher. Your baby is your book. And as hard as it is, what authors need to do (particularly debut authors) is realize that your publisher really does have the best interest of the book – and you – at heart. And you agreed with them enough to enter into a contract in the first place.

Some publishers are going to do more (or less) compromising and negotiating than others. Some simply send you an email that says, “Here’s your title and your cover.” And maybe you hate both of them…but you put on your happy face and then you promote the bazookas out of your renamed and redressed baby, because it’s just possible that good sales will get you more negotiating power the next time around. (Then again, it might not.)

And, if reading that gets you fired up and you want to shake your fist in the air and say, “No! No one is ever going to tell me that I can’t do X, Y, or Z!” then you probably ought to seriously consider indie publishing. Because it’s unlikely that as a debut or semi-newbie author you’re ever going to have the pull with your publisher to make that happen. And getting to that point after the ink on your contract is dry just makes you look bad with your publisher, and possibly with your agent, and possibly with other publishers – because they do talk amongst themselves. And you don’t want to become that person that no one wants to work with.