8 new book reviews

I’ve been pretty quiet on my personal blog for a few weeks, but busy as a beaver over at Darryl’s Library. I’ve read and reviewed eight new books:

• It by Stephen King
• Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne
• No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy
• North of Sunset by Henry Baum
• The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
• Anne Droyd and Century Lodge by Will Hadcroft
• The Walking Dead #2: Miles Behind Us by Robert Kirkman
• Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson

Henry Baum has kindly allowed his Hollywood crime novel North of Sunset to be featured as a free PDF file on the Book Downloads page.

Chion one year old today

Today marks exactly one year from the arrival of the first print-run of Chion. I’ve sold/distributed 373 copies since then. I’m pleased with that result, especially since I concentrated on online sales rather than bookshop sales. Bookshops are an administrative nightmare to deal with when you’re an indie, as I found with Ulterior. I made a decent amount of money through that avenue, but I mostly decided it wasn’t worth the hassle this time round. I’m happy to carve my niche online. The best news of all is that Chion is selling with greater frequency now than ever. I can only put that down to the excellent reviews the book received.

School readers raise £356 for orphanage

A special thank-you to each Clounagh Junior High School pupil who purchased a copy of Chion since the book’s release last year. The books were sold to the pupils on a charity basis, with £2 per copy donated to Katya Vanchev Orphanage in Bulgaria. Last Wednesday I was delighted to be able to present a cheque for £356. Clounagh has a long-standing relationship with Katya Vanchev, helping out each year during the Ski Trip. Various school activities over the course of the year have raised the grand total to around £2,500.

With charities, you never really see what happens to your money, and you never know how much of it disappears to cover various admin fees. The personal connection with Katya Vanchev makes this a lot more special than raising money for a faceless organisation. Here we can be sure that every penny raised goes to benefit the kids (see photo).

My first accident on the new bicycle

Well, on Friday evening I had my first accident on the new mountain bike. I was heading into Andrew Harrison’s housing estate where there is a rather pointless roundabout with only two exits (Craigavon’s a bit like that). Since there was no traffic in sight, I decided to cut across the roundabout the wrong way, just to save ten seconds. When making a typical turn, a bike naturally tilts a little, and one’s centre of gravity goes off-centre. That was all it took for the bike’s wheels to lose their grip on the road … thanks to the ice. Normally, icy weather conditions are okay to cycle on, because so much car tyre rubber has already melted the ice. But thanks to this ridiculous roundabout design, I didn’t take into account that there was a small portion of the roundabout that never gets used. Hence, I fell roughly on the side of my pelvis. For a moment, I thought I had really badly injured myself, but I was fine - except for the pain, which, as you’d expect, was worse the following day. (It’s now six days later, and I still can’t sleep on my right side.)

This got me thinking about all the times I’ve fallen off bicycles in the past. There’s so much I have forgotten from my childhood, but I think I can remember every single crash; trauma is funny that way. For your amusement, here are some of the funnier moments (well, they’re funny now).

I was about nine years old, and my bike was the Raleigh Grifter. Who remembers those cool motobike-style handgrips with the twist action for changing gears? Asthetically, the Grifter was the predecessor to the BMX. But looks are where the resemblance ends. This was one heavy bike. Even though I was well aware of the limitations of this cumbersome beast, that didn’t stop me trying to show off to a couple of girls. There was a playpark near my house, with swings, climbing frames, and a big circular sandpit about thirty feet wide. The surface of the sand was at a depth of about two feet below ground level. While the girls were chatting on the monkeybars, I decided to ride my bike into the sandpit. I had done the leap successfully before. All you had to do was put the Grifter into a slight wheelie when you reached the edge of the pit. Despite the weight of the bike, this was doable … some of the time. This time, the bike went into a dive and threw me over the bars. I still remember the thud of my chest hitting the sand. As I got up and dusted myself off, I could hear giggling coming from the direction of the monkeybars. I picked up the bike and left the pit in defeat, feeling all my self-respect evaporating through my burning cheeks.

As a kid, I was never one for bike mantenance, and I had that old Grifter for many years. One day, it let me down big-time. I was cycling from the road onto the footpath at the entrance to the housing estate where I lived. As my back tyre bumped the kerb, the entire bike seemed to split into two or three pieces. It literally fell apart under me. At least, that’s the way I remembered it. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except there was a bunch of teenagers enjoying an afternoon booze-up on a nearby lawn. How they laughed at me! How they mocked me! The worst thing was I couldn’t just walk away. Somehow I had to get my bike home. So I half carried and half dragged the remains of my Grifter along the footpath, forced to move at a snail’s pace, enduring a continual verbal barrage for many minutes until I was finally out of sight.

When I was about eleven, the BMX craze was just beginning, and I became the proud owner of a Raleigh Ultra Burner. Since the bike was lightweight, I naturally tried to do various stunts on it. I don’t remember how many seats I broke, abusing that bike. My least fond memory is of doing a short race with friends down a housing estate. My brakes weren’t functioning at the time, and I should have known it was foolish to race with no brakes. Especially when there’s a big house facing you at the end of the road. By the time the house was looming I realised it was too late to stop, or even to turn. There was no garden at this house. Nothing but a footpath running perpendicular to my approach. For a moment, I had the crazy notion that if I held the front of the bike to the ground, the impact on the kerb would propel me over the handlebars, so that I would land on the footpath instead of crashing into the wall. It didn’t work (and maybe that was a good thing). My momentum was too great, probably around twenty miles per hour. The bike continued onto the footpath; the front wheel struck the house; the bike went into an “endo” (one of my favourite stunts in more controlled circumstances); my jaw struck the wall hard. Finally at rest, I reached up to touch my jaw. It felt numb. My fingers came away covered in blood and small white pebble-like things. My teeth! I thought. Thankfully, it turned out to be nothing more than the pebble-dash from the wall. Pebble-dash is pretty resilient stuff. You get an idea how great this impact was when I end up with the pebbles sticking to my face instead of the house. The scars from the accident aren’t too noticeable. It just bugs me now that I’m into beards, because there’s a little piece of my jaw where hair will no longer grow, right where the moustache joins the beard on my right hand side.

There were many more accidents. I remember our labrador knocking me off the bike. Another occasion, my foot slipped off a pedal when I was pumping hard, resulting in me sliding down the road on my back with the bike wrapped around me; my sweater was shredded. I remember losing control of my BMX in mid-air whilst jumping. I remember trying to cycle down a steep ice-coated road, and I ended up “skiing” the whole way down on two wheels and one foot, like some ridiculous tripod. I remember doing a massive arc of a skid, when the bike suddenly found grip again and flipped me off itself. I remember colliding with another cyclist around a blind corner and wrecking his brand-new bike. Amazingly, I’ve never broken a bone.

On the one hand, there are all these bicycle accidents. On the other, I’ve never had a car accident. Wonder what will happen if I buy a motorcycle? The speed of a car combined with the flimsy protection of a bicycle. Not a great combination. But still, I might get one anyway.

Cycling vs. driving - Part IV

It’s official: my car is gone. Well, it’s still in my driveway, but it’s untaxed and the MOT test is long overdue. And I’ve just noticed there are spots of mould growing on the steering wheel. Yes, it’s been a while since I’ve driven it or anything else on four wheels. For at least three months now, I’ve been using my bicycle for 100% of my travels. Long-time readers will know that I’ve been working my way toward this arrangement for a year or two - ever since this post. I like what this change in lifestyle has done for me, not only physically but psychologically. Last winter, the thought of cycling to work in the morning was unbearable. Now, I simply put on my gloves and grab the bike without a second thought. There’s something to be said for embracing a state of mind that isn’t constantly seeking the greatest personal comfort every moment.

The bike has held up pretty well for the six months I’ve owned it, except for a couple of minor quibbles. The pedals (something you rarely have to think about replacing) were useless. The plastic on both of them broke in half after only two months; of course, I am over seventeen stone in weight, but still. I replaced the pedals with a pair of mean-looking bear-trap-style metal ones from my old bike. More recently, my brakes started working poorly. In my usual lazy manner, I let it slide, until one morning a car decided to reverse out of a driveway while I was cruising down a hill towards it. I couldn’t stop, but I could veer. But the moron’s windows were all misted up, and he just kept coming. I was literally one or two inches from having an accident - the closest I’ve ever been. That experience was enough to make me check the brake pads. I discovered they were worn right down to the metal. Naturally, I’ve now got new ones fitted now. Once bitten, as they say.

At this time of year, it’s pretty dark while I’m pedalling to work at 8.15, likewise when I’m heading home at 4.15. In my usual lazy manner, I’ve been making the journey with no lights. Well, despite the fact that none of my not-quite-an-accidents have been related to darkness, I thought it best to rectify the situation and avoid any unpleasant surprise visits to Craigavon Area Hospital.

No regrets. Bicycles rock.

POD People rates Chion 9/10

Chion has just received its sixth review, this time by novelist Emily Veinglory at POD People. She rated the novel 9 out of 10 and said:

I read a lot of mediocre books, but this wasn’t one of them. Seamless, engaging and appealing … Chion is effortless to read and the story unfolds strong until an ending that is perhaps too pat in some ways but still manages something of a clever twist.

[ Link ]

DeLorean: A dream within reach

Some of you know I have a thing about DeLorean cars. It’s based on nothing more concrete than a childhood memory: I recall being about ten years old, glued to the TV set, watching a documentary on the now-infamous car, and wishing I could own one. The power of nostalgia compells me to love this car today; I can’t help it.

There were only ever about 8,000 DeLorean DMC-12 cars made, 6,000 of which are believed to still be in circulation, most in the USA. Now and again, I tap the name of the car into eBay. Occasionally they show up for sale, in various locales and conditions. I never seriously thought I would have an opportunity to own one. However, last week, one of these cars showed up in County Down, of all places - just a short drive from where I live. The car was described as pristine condition, and had had its original rust-proof stainless steel panels painted black by one of its owners. I liked this unique look a lot. DeLorean Noir! Bidding began at £10,000, but with a reserve of who knows what.

So I started thinking, was it truly possible for me to buy this car? Well, the only way for me to raise the funds was to remortgage my house. It’s not as drastic as it sounds. I have a pretty small mortgage currently. More importantly, was it worth it? Let’s say the total cost came to £15,000. Fifteen grand just to make driving feel like piloting an X-Wing Fighter. Since I’m currently getting around on a bicycle (and intending to keep on doing so), the car would be for special occasions only - largely kept in storage, free from wear-and-tear, retaining its classic status for a long, long time. Again, I have to ask, is it worth spending fifteen grand to own a car that you will hardly ever drive?

At the end of the day, it wasn’t money that put me off; the car would retain its value over time and could be re-sold whenever. I opted out because I thought long and hard about what owning something like this does to your mind. I pictured myself driving with acute paranoia about damaging the car. I pictured myself parking in public, leaving the car there and going shopping, constantly worried about someone deciding to run a key along the side of the door because the car is so eye-catching. This mental issue can be summed up in one Bible verse: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). What the verse is saying is that the things we own form attachments to us, or rather we form attachments to them. It’s a basic, unavoidable principle of human life, rooted in our own greedy natures. We care deeply, usually too much, about what we own. Naturally, the less you own, the more your heart is free to set itself on what’s important in life. Bottom line: I don’t want to become the kind of person who owns all sort of pretty things and worries about them constantly. That’s what the DeLorean would provoke in me. In my youth, I had a terrible collector’s mentality for books and videos. I seem to have grown out of it, to the degree that I hardly ever buy anything these days. If I buy a DVD, I’m usually thinking about its resale value on eBay! I’m glad about that and I don’t want to be lured into materialism again. Maybe I have a better grasp on my mortality than I used to.

So I let the DeLorean go. All things considered, I would be better served pursuing my dream of one day owning a boat. On the surface, it sounds like the same pursuit as the DeLorean, but what I’m really after is the experience of life on water, away from civilisation and close to nature. And experience is far more valuable the ownership of rare treasures. After all, if we get to take anything with us to the afterlife, it will be our memories of what we did in this life.

Chion wins International Print-on-Demand Book Award

My novel Chion gained a stunning review in April 2007 on a site specialising in self-published novels: The PODler. Today, The PODler announced Chion as its book of the year - the International Print-on-Demand Book Award - out of 29 titles reviewed in 2007. There were plenty of A-rated titles that could have won, not least of which was the very successful Antarktos Rising by Jeremy Robinson. But I’m pleased as punch that my little baby was picked.

Flash fiction: “Mind Out of Time”

I’ve recently become fascinated with the phenomenon of “flash fiction,” that is, fiction that is ultra-short, anything from a single sentence to 1,500 words (although opinion on the upper limit varies). I’m presently enjoying reading an anthology of such stories called FlashSpec. Flash fiction is not to be confused with the notion of syphoning a scene from a longer work. Flash fiction is supposed to have a coherent plot, just like regular fiction. One skill is in deciding what material to show the reader and what to merely infer. Another is in composing vivid descriptions with a brutal economy of words.

An idea for a new short story struck me a few days ago. I started thinking about the complexity of it, and all the scenes I would have to include. And then I asked myself, what really do I want the reader to remember from this? And the answer was, I want you to remember the novelty of the idea and the twist in the tail. So I got on a different track mentally, figured out what I could summarise and infer, as well as what I wanted to show, and I began. I found that I took to the flash style instantly and had a great time writing the story. It’s also a nice feeling when you start something and finish it the very same day.

I showed the story to my friend Earl, who is often kind enough to edit my fiction. I was a little apprehensive about it, because recently he edited the first chapter of a novel I’m toying with, and he brought to light so many flaws that I started feeling deflated about the sheer scope of the task ahead. But it turns out that Earl loved this new story, and the only edits needed were minor ones. I may have found a style that suits me better than long-form prose.

Here’s “Mind Out of Time,” if you’d like to read it. Let me know what you think, positive or negative.

[ Read Story ]

School of the dead

There’s just no getting rid of those pesky zombies, is there? It seems no matter what I do, I keep gravitating back to those lovable piles of walking pus. Well, this particular batch of undead hails from Clounagh Junior High School. Regular visitors will know that each year I run a filmmaking club with pupils at the school. Two years ago we brought you the tale of an escaped panther prowling the corridors (Cat Trap). Last year it was a spooky ghost story (The Survivor). Now we turn our hand to the living dead. Imagine a television station that keeps right on broadcasting months after the end of the world, offering survival tips to anyone still left alive out there. The working title is Channel Z. We just got things off the ground yesterday and we’ll be filming once a week for the remainder of the school year. You can expect the movie’s release in June 2008, as is our custom. Meanwhile, watch our other film club projects.

The Ballycastle sea monster arrives

On Friday evening Andrew Harrison and I travelled up to Ballycastle for the premiere of The Siren, a movie we made a few weeks earlier with the town’s filmmaking club. We had a brilliant turnout - over fifty bums on seats. The film went down a treat, generating a lot of (intended) laughter, and a hearty round of applause. It’s a wonderful feeling to see people get so much enjoyment out of something you’ve toiled over. Philip Henry, the man who wrote the novel on which our movie is based, also attended the event. I’ve corresponded with Phil online for several years, and it was great to finally meet him.

Aside from a few pre-production shots, the whole movie was shot in one day over a mere five or six hours. Amazingly, it’s about thirteen minutes long. I hope you enjoy The Siren as much as our little gathering did …

Chapter 1 of 2:

Chapter 2 of 2:

The value of free ebooks - Part II

I made the decision to release Chion as a freely downloadable ebook on 13 September. In the 54 days between then and now, the novel has been downloaded 262 times. If you think that means 262 lost sales, think again. Only 28 of these downloads occured through my website. The other 234 happened over at my book reviews blog, where I decided to create a little free ebooks section. Because I was restricting my offerings to quality-guaranteed books backed up by written reviews, the page got noticed by GetFreeEbooks.com, who publicised what I was doing. As a result, a lot of people downloaded the books I had on offer, and it shows no sign of slowing down.

The reason why this is not 234 lost sales is simple: If I hadn’t offered the book for free, these 234 people would not have known anything about Chion in the first place. Refusing to make Chion free would not have resulted in a single extra sale. Of course, it has to be asked: Am I selling less copies of Chion now that it’s a free ebook, too? Well, it continues to sell on eBay with the same frequency as before. What can I say? People like their dead tree books.

So, right now I’ve got my 300-odd paperback sales of Chion, plus 262 additional readers (increasing each day). The alternative was 300-odd sales and zero additional readers. I feel completely validated in my decision to make Chion free. How many copies of, say, Cell do you think would have sold, if the book had been released without the magic words “Stephen King” on the cover? Not the millions that did, that’s for sure. I’m learning to put priority on getting known rather than making money. That latter can’t be done without the former.

8 new book reviews

I’ve added eight new book reviews to Darryl’s Library:

• Survival Op: The Fear in the Wilderness by Scott Allen
• The Dawkins Delusion? by Alister McGrath
• Have Space Suit - Will Travel by Robert A. Heinlein
• L.A. Stalker by David Kilpatrick
• An Exorcist Tells His Story by Gabriele Amorth
• Ultraviolet by Lesley Howarth
• Antarktos Rising by Jeremy Robinson
• The Road by Cormac McCarthy

David Kilpatrick has kindly allowed his novel L.A. Stalker to be made available for free download on my Book Downloads page.

The strangest thing happened when I uploaded my review of An Exorcist Tells His Story. My post was quickly spotted by a popular Roman Catholic website called Spirit Daily. The site posted a link to my review with the words “Protestant lauds exorcism book.” As a result, people flocked to the review and started writing comments. I had over 3,000 views in a single day, and ended up with over 180 comments posted. For a brief time, the post actually attained the number 1 spot on WordPress’s Top 100 Posts page, against 1.6 million registered blogs. Before now, I doubt I’ve even registered in the top 1,000.

It’s weird how you can spend several years honing a personal website and promoting it, making only tiny steps in popularity. Then, on a whim, a year ago you decide to set up a separate blog just to shine a little light on some book reviews you’ve written. You do practically nothing to promote it, and yet, by a sheer fluke, you’re number one on WordPress. Surreal.

The Ballycastle sea monster - on camera

Andrew Harrison and I spent Saturday up at the north coast, where our friend Harry Hamill runs Ballycastle Film Club. Nine kids, aged ten to fifteen, showed up, and we filmed a short monster movie that I had scripted earlier in the year: The Siren, loosely inspired by Philip Henry’s novel Mind’s Eye. It was a hard day’s work getting everything done on time, but it was a whole lot of fun - especially watching Emma drag Alex into the freezing cold ocean on his back. Such enthusiasm! We also had a chance to use some excellent cameras, supplied by the Film Club.

The photograph (kindly supplied by the Ballymoney Times, who showed up to cover the event) shows Harry, myself and Andrew, with Alex, Emma, Lee and Alanna. If you look closely, you’ll notice the grotesque fingers from Don’t Look in the Attic. Those are actually the legs from a life-size model kit of a facehugger from Alien!

Andrew and I will be editing the film over the next two weeks. It will be premiered at a Halloween festival in Ballycastle on Friday 2 November. Right after that, we’ll be sharing it online, of course.

Self-publishing Q&A for The Writer Magazine

Freelance writer Jocelyn Kelley got in touch with me recently to help with an article she’s writing on self-publishing for The Writer Magazine. Her questions brought up some interesting topics, so I thought I’d share my responses with you …

It is well known in the publishing industry that self-published titles do not get mainstream reviews. Do you find this to be true? Is this why you decided to give self-published titles some attention?

I imagine it’s true. I’ve never actually submitted one of my novels to a major review publication. However, if I did, I’ve a feeling I might be able to sneak through, because as a self-published author, I use my own publishing imprint. If, on the other hand, my book had the word iUniverse, AuthorHouse, or Lulu (all recognisable self-publishing author services) on the spine, it’s not hard to imagine reviewers putting the book to one side - permanently. Every reviewer has probably had a bad experience with self-published works and has learned to distrust them. I don’t blame them.

In my own book reviews blog (http://darrylslibrary.wordpress.com), I feature some self-published works. I’m not specifically out to give a helping hand to self-published authors. I just happen to have had some good experiences: authors such as David Kilpatrick, A.P. Fuchs, Philip Henry - skilled wordsmiths whose work is clearly a labour of love. But I’ve read a few stinkers, too. I recently decided to revise my submission guidelines due to a particularly bad novel. I accepted the author’s review request because I liked the theme of the novel and was attracted by its cover art. Big mistake! The book was horrible. I now ask authors to email me a chapter before I accept their book. I can usually tell whether a book will be good or bad in the first chapter. The book in question was so bad that I could tell after one paragraph! There were three problems with that single vitally important paragraph, and if an author can’t get that right, what hope does the rest of the story have?

The stigma on self-published titles is that they are not up to par with work published by mainstream publishers. What did you find when reading/reviewing self-published titles?

The stigma is entirely justified. As a self-published author myself, I could argue that I’ve read some terrible books pumped out by mainstream publishers, but that’s a cop out. I would take an educated guess that the amount of poor quality titles in the mainstream is dwarfed by the tidal wave of slop that self-publishing services churn out. My favourite analogy is American Idol. In the early episodes, we watch all the would-be superstars give their best shot in the preliminary auditions, under the gaze of Simon Cowell and co. And more often than not, we’re either cringing or laughing, as countless deluded souls who think they can sing pass briefly across our screens.

Well, surely it’s bound to be the same story in the sphere of writing. There have got to be countless would-be authors who have never taken the time to learn the craft, who simply assume they can write like a pro. The only difference between them and the American Idol rejects is that modern printing technology has allowed them to claim a place in actual publishing. I really don’t blame bookshops for not stocking self-published works. Can you imagine walking into a music store, looking for some new talent, and having to wade through CDs by every American Idol wannabe? Imagine buying something on the fly, taking it home and listening to it for the first time, then being totally gobsmacked because it’s somebody strumming three basic chords on a guitar while singing out of tune, all recorded on a puny computer microphone. Thank goodness this situation isn’t real. Likewise, thank goodness bookshop owners are savvy enough to protect the public from the literature equivalent. Maybe it sounds strange for a self-published author to be talking this way. Well, if I’m to make any kind of success at this game, I need to be a realist. The stigma is a necessary thing, and if there’s any blame, it should be landed squarely on the backs of the many authors who release their work to the public before it’s anywhere near ready.

On a more positive note, I’ve discovered some self-published authors whose work I’m very glad to have read. These are people who know how to constuct an entertaining plot, who have taken the time to learn a great deal of the nuts and bolts of the craft, who have poured over their finished manuscript for countless hours in an attempt to track down every typo, every grammatical misstep, every punctuation error. I have to admit, though, that I’ve never managed to get through one of these good books without spotting a few things that make each one fall just shy of a professional standard. Nevertheless, I’m very glad to have been able to read them.

What is the consensus among self-published writers that you have dealt with regarding reviews/media attention?

Oh, I’m sure we would all love to see our books featured on Oprah. Who wouldn’t? But I think we’re happy enough to send our books out to various bloggers and genre publications. We rely mostly on our personal websites to promote our books. If we obtain a few glowing reviews, we can consolidate them on our sites. We have to live without the big reviews, but one thing that’s important in the smaller reviews is whether the reviewer can be tied to the author’s personal life. For instance, I have several really positive reviews of my novel Chion in these blogs: The Podler, Critical Mick, Podlings, and None May Say. None of these sites has any vested interest in blowing my trumpet. Potential readers who visit my site can trust them. On the flipside, it’s easy for any self-published author to tell his buddies to go onto Amazon and leave a five-star review. I don’t hold a lot of value in those.

Self-published author Scott Sigler turned out to be something of a marketing genius, whether intentionally or otherwise. Several years ago, he revived the old audiobook format by featuring his novel online in MP3 format, split up into episodes which were released weekly. It was completely free. Over time, he did this with three novels, gaining countless fans. And when he finally released a paperback of one of the books, he craftily asked all his fans to buy it from Amazon at a specific time on a specific date. He rocketed to the forefront of the charts and got noticed by a major publisher. He now has a three-book deal! Smart guy. Wish I’d had the brains to bring about a situation like that that for myself.

The biggest publicity I’ve had was a forty-five-minute interview on WritingShow.com. The host informed me that the interview was downloaded 1,000 times in the first week. At my end, that translated to two sales of my novel. That gives some idea of how hard it is to sell books. Without major publicity, none of us is going to be quitting our day-jobs. But then again, that was never the point. Well, occasionally, somebody crawls out of the woodwook with the delusion that he’s going to take the publishing world by storm. But for myself, I’m just having fun. On a small scale, I’m living out my dream of writing fiction and seeing it enjoyed by the public. Even though I’m only selling one or two books a week, it’s a worthwhile pursuit.

What is your overall feel of the self-publishing industry? Do you feel that it is a reputable form of publishing that is receiving negative attention in the media?

It’s reputable in some forms. Some of these self-publishing companies have come under fire for giving the false impression that they are closer to a mainstream publisher than they actually are. A phrase like “Availability to bookstores” doesn’t really mean that your book will be stocked anywhere. It merely means that a member of the public can walk into a bookstore and place an order for your book. An honest self-publishing company will state what it actually is: an author service - a means for an author to get his book in print and for that author to then sell his book on his own steam.

Most of the negative publicity that self-publishing has received has been justified. Authors needs to be clued up on the scams that operate; they need to be made aware of the difficulties and pitfalls of the enterprise. It’s also fair that the public be made aware of the general poor standards of self-published work. It’s up to the authors to use their own ingenuity to work around the stigma, rather than griping about it. I work around it by using a try-before-you-buy approach to marketing. Casual surfers who find my website can download a free ebook of my novel or listen to a recorded excerpt in MP3. I would never dream of encouraging them to part with their cash for a paperback without first convincing them that I can write well and tell a good story.

Someone may dismiss self-publishing in its entirety, simply on the grounds that no editorial process has gone into the publishing of it. This is slightly hypocritical, because such a system is not in place for other forms of art, such as independent music and film; it’s simply a matter of those with enough money can do it. If I give a digital copy of my fiction away for free, it should be allowed to stand or fall entirely on its own merit in the eyes of the public.

The sea of poor quality self-published fiction doesn’t really bother me, because it’s essentially harmless. A bad book can’t get good reviews, therefore the author won’t be able to market it successfully, therefore it won’t sell. And a book that won’t sell is no threat to the reading public. Any author who writes a bad book puts himself in his own catch-22. Good self-published fiction, on the other hand, is very hard to sell, but stands a chance in the hands of an author with a good head for marketing.

Obviously I love self-publishing, because it has allowed me to see my fiction in print. I’ve been doing this since 2001 and have sold around 1,300 books in total. Small potatoes. Professionals may feel that what I’m doing is laughable, but that’s only true if you insist on comparing me to professional authors, whose bread and butter is their words. I reiterate: getting famous and making big bucks was never the point. It was more about creating art, having an audience for that art, and maybe making a little cash on the side. Getting published in the mainstream will always be something to aspire to. Whether it happens or not, I’m enjoying what I’m doing.

When a reader is considering buying my novel, I don’t think it’s very important to him whether it’s self-published or not. He’s had a chance to sample it online, and I think his only consideration is to what degree he enjoyed it.