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Publishers are trying the Netflix model. It’s so clear now that people prefer to consume film and television series in watching binges, and there’s always been such a vocal subset of the book-buying market that waits to buy a series until the last volume is published, that we’re going to see some experiments with releasing sequels six, or even three, months apart, rather than the traditionally preferred year.
I wonder what acquiring editors will be advising newbie authors to do now. Back in the late Cretaceous Period, when I had just finished my first novel, all the editors at writing conferences and fan conventions were unanimous: don’t bother working on the second volume of your series until the first volume sells. The rationale then was that editors could fix problems in the first novel, and then they’d stay fixed for the whole series, because all the sequels would be undertaken under editorial guidance, whereas if the author was already on volume five and there were problems that threaded through the whole series, it would be much harder to fix. Also, in the editors’ experience, authors were harder to work with when they were several volumes’ worth of committed to something the editors felt to be a flaw in the work.
Some will say that self-publishing is the solution to this problem, and that no writer of series should ever have been deterred. Although there’s a case to be made for that view, a good editor can help a writer find the best, truest version of a book — a version that’s a revision pass or two beyond where the writer stopped when s/he thought it was ready to submit for publication.
The first two short stories I sold taught me this lesson the hard way. John O’Neill put me through three strenuous rounds of deep structural revision on “The War of the Wheat-Berry Year,” which was above and beyond the call of duty for him. There was no guarantee until the third try was in that he would buy the story at all. His every suggestion made the story stronger, and the process laid the groundwork for a cordial working relationship that continues at Black Gate some eight years later. The second short story I sold, “New Jersey’s Top Ghost Tours Reviewed and Rated,” was accepted exactly as I submitted it at what was then one of the top short fiction markets in the genre. I felt thrilled, vindicated, endorsed, all of that. When the story went up on the website, I discovered a couple of jarring sentence-level infelicities that had escaped me, ones that I think would stand out for most readers. Every time I think about that story, I flinch about those two sentences, and I wish there had been a step in the process in which both the editor and I could have looked the story over one last time for improvements. Which editor would I rather work with now?
And which kind of editor would I rather have as a partner in preparing a novel for the big time? Easy choice. I’d pick the collegial perfectionist over the laissez-faire congratulator any day.
Would it help my Big Book now if I could admit that the second volume in the series is 75% complete in working draft?
Does this new development in the publishing business clinch the question of whether to polish the Big Book at its current length or to split it into two shorter volumes? In the market of eight years ago, it would have meant automatic rejection to submit a first volume with an admission that one sequel was done and the next one nearly so. Now, that could be an advantage.
Or — hell, why not? — I could look at the four-act and five-act structures of Big Book I and Big Book II as places to split each of them into novellas. That would put me at four volumes finished, ready for release at three month intervals, while I knocked out revisions to the five acts of Book II one at a time. Easy peasy. Except that nothing’s that easy, and the Big Book never gets that lucky. And, despite the fact that I’ve had a surprisingly easily time selling novellas, it doesn’t seem possible that the big publishing houses will embrace novella-length series installments.
I wish there were someone I could ask whose answer I could trust implicitly. Ain’t no such person. We’re all stumbling in the dark together into the future of books.
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Date: 2014-02-12 04:36 am (UTC)Isn't it fun being in the midst of a whole schema change of publishing?
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Date: 2014-02-12 05:00 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2014-02-26 04:28 am (UTC)Have you been reading the recent viral posts comparing the financial benefits of self-publishing versus traditional publishing? It has crossed my mind that maybe I shouldn't give the old-school presses more than a year more of chances with the Big Book before I just do it myself. In which case splitting it into novella-sized chunks looks even more like the right way to go.
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Date: 2014-02-26 05:00 pm (UTC)What I mean by this: As a game designer by trade I've worked on brand creation, monetization plans and working virals for all kinds of games, from Facebook games to MMO's and everything in-between. So, I came into this particular challenge feeling decently well informed. To promote my first two books on Amazon, Goblin Girl and Wish, I spent hundreds of hours on social media (writing blogs for Redroom, building grassroots connections on Facebook, buying Facebook advertising ads, building a Twitter following, building a Goodreads account, building an Amazon author account, messing around with Reddit, contacting dozens of websites for my free promotion on Amazon, etc.). While doing so helped me achieve my initial goals, I realized two things from this:
1] I could have written and edited a whole new novel in the time it took me to do the required amount of social media to make my book decently successful on Amazon.
2] The opportunity to make big money is out there, but there is no guarantee you're going to get the gold ring. As result of my efforts, Wish landed a Top-20 in YA Free Sword and Sorcery - and Goblin Girl landed #2 in YA Free Fairy Tales, #3 in YA Free Sword and Sorcery and #4 in YA Free Coming of Age during a week-long free promotion. But between all the time I spent and the money I paid for the cover art, models and FB advertising I've spent well over $1,000 - ultimately to make $126.
Really $126 isn't bad in the scheme of things, as that amount makes me kind of an Amazon mid-lister, above and beyond the hundreds of thousand of published e-books that didn't sell more than a copy or two. Amazon is also about the long game, as every time you have a new quarterly promotion you get new readers - who then in turn investigate your other books and make a few extra purchases here and there.
So, while I've now experimented a lot and figured out the top handful of things I will do to support a launch that I can do in a relatively short amount of time, I'm still actively looking for ways to promote that will still keep me in the chair writing instead of Twittering. The thing I'm very excited about is that I recently fell into the graces of a e-book reviewer with thousands of Facebook followers - and I'm looking forward to seeing how my next Amazon novel is going to be received with her influence.
On splitting the Big Book into novella sized chunks, I'm kind of with you there. While I still have my heart out on my sleeve for a publisher and an agent, any of my new manuscripts that don't get picked up after a full year+ query cycle get prepped for Amazon. However, a number of nice editors have been very frank with me, in that if a book goes up on Amazon they generally won't touch it in the future. One agent in particular and let me know that she will only pursue a book that is up on Amazon if it is making $100,000 yearly in sales. (Fifty Shades of Grey and kin, I assume.) If I'm ever making $100,000 a year on my fiction, I suspect that I'll be living in a whole different world as result. #firstworldauthorproblems
Best,
-Scott