Look, we’re all struggling to make money, authors as much as anyone else.
“Buy My Book! But My Book!” Ad Nauseum
As a writer, you can focus all your energy on getting people to read your books, but there’s a number of drawbacks. You pimp and pimp your books on social media, watching as you lose more followers than you get.
First, you need to have enough material out there that when people read one, they will have more to consume. If you’re new, or a slow writer like me, this isn’t easy to achieve.
So many writers look to alternative strategies to make money.
A simple one is to get more revenue from your existing work. This can mean submitting your shorter works to foreign markets for translations – which is time-consuming and doesn’t earn much, but might build an audience for later material. Or, it can mean making a Patreon-type program, where people are encouraged to pay money to get early access to your writing.
Again, this doesn’t work well with slow writers, and can also be difficult for writers who simply don’t have enough material to entice a recurring payment. Also, if you haven’t found your fans on social media, how will you find them on Patreon?
Then there’s the tip jars like Kofi. Without giving anything away, you simply ask people to tip you some money. I don’t know anyone who’s having success with that.
A couple of my designs
A different strategy strategy is to try to create multiple revenue streams from different products completely. That’s what I’m trying to do, by edging into Print-on-Demand t-shirt and all-over-print clothing.
This is your RedBubble, Etsy, Printful type work. Depending upon how you want to structure it, and how much control you want, you can find a solution that lets you design using their tools (great for silly slogan stye t-shirts) or go full-on photoshop CMYK designs on all-over prints.
Again, you have a problem of how to find an audience, but in theory Etsy or RedBubble are also trying to sell your work, so you have a very little bit of support from a very large player.
My first exposure to the use of “trigger warning” came about as a teacher. As part of our training, we were briefed on them, so it wasn’t a complete surprise that our students knew about them too.
I was teaching ESL in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. One of my students, about 13 years old, attended an international school where they’d just had an assembly on triggers and trigger warnings. From that point on, whenever I mentioned grammar or homework, she’d shout “Trigger!”
This did not get her out of doing her class work or homework, and eventually she stopped.
There was a discussion on the Alliance of Independent Authors facebook group about trigger warnings. Apparently there’s a serious discussion around embracing the inclusion of trigger warnings on books.
I understand that some things in stories can trigger strong emotional reactions. Story-telling is about evoking emotions, sometimes a writer pushes too far. But the list being discussed, available here, is just absurd.
According to it, you should use a trigger warning if you mention a brand by name, if anyone is pregnant in the story, if there are any references to Harry Potter, spiders, or alcohol…
There are valid things on the list, such as rape, decapitation, torture, but they’re invalidated by the absurdity of the rest of the list.
Simply getting your feelings hurt because a story has “slut shaming” isn’t being triggered, it’s being uncomfortable.
All of this led me to think, how would the books of my childhood stack up to this list?
Let’s find out:
I’ll start with one of the most influential books in science fiction, Dune:
Abusive relationship Assault Attempted murder Attempted rape Child abuse Child death Childbirth Cults Death Drugs Emotional abuse
Finally, a publishing strategy for my short fiction!
Back when I was in university, I wrote some short fiction. I even got some backhand praise for it (“It’s too real, you’re writing a memoir and passing it off as fiction”), if not the best grades.
But I’ve always been drawn to the epic novel, the longest of long forms (think Lord of the Rings, which was written to be one volume with five parts but was published as three volumes).
I don’t know when I stopped writing short fiction, but I do know when I restarted.
There’s a new York literary agent named Janet Reid. For a while, she ran a weekly contest. She’d give you five words and you had to use them in a story of exactly 100 words. You had from late Friday until late Sunday to complete this task.
It was hard. It was fun.
It taught me a lot about brevity (ironically, something this post might lack). Then I started looking through my backlog of stories and found that a lot of them could easily be told in a much shorter form than an epic novel.
I discovered that 2,000 – 3,000 word stories were my jam. I started reading up on short fiction markets and submitted some stories. Then I sold a couple of them. I had my first professional sale, many semi-pro sales and some interesting contracts that I wouldn’t sign (You can read about here).
After six or seven years, I had a backlog of about 30 short stories and another 25 or so drabbles (those 100-word stories).
I gathered the best of the best, 14 short stories and 12 drabbles and made a book. Then I made three more. No, I don’t have enough content for four books.
But I do have a strategy.
I write across a number of genres, so I decided that for Amazon Kindle, I’d release two short “samplers”; one of space opera stories and the other of a speculative fiction variety. Both would have three stories and three drabbles. I’d make a third ebook sampler of just the complete set of drabbles and offer it to anyone who signed up for my newsletter.
The 14 short stories and the 12 drabbles, I’d bind as a paperback. This would allow me to learn about that whole process before I was ready to release one of my ‘epic novels’.
In a surprise to myself, I ended up also making an ebook out of the complete collection, and offering it everywhere except Amazon (It conflicts with the samplers).
So now those short stories have become four titles and five publications (four published and one given away)!
I’m still new to all this, and I’m finding it hard to keep track of where everything is available and when. Why don’t you take a minute to check out skrapbooks.com (my publishing company) to see if there’s anything you’d be interested in.
There are many ways that a writer can screw up their story. One that I am susceptible to is the “I have a cool concept, now I need a story to fit it.” or worse, “I have a cool solution. I need a problem to fit it.”
Why a ship? It’ll make sense eventually
The “cool concept” one is, I feel, far less risky and can be pulled off well. Here we’re talking about high concept stories like the classic Arthur C Clark stories Rendezvous with Rama and Childhood’s End. In “Rama”, an extraterrestrial foreign body is tumbling through our solar system; let’s go investigate. In “End”, aliens have arrived to shepherd humanity to our next level of evolution. Both are easy to quantify and catchy pitches.
Even then, “Rama” didn’t offer a lot of satisfying conclusions, instead opting for a soft cliffhanger ending (literally, “wait, there’s more!”). I know many people were disappointed with Childhood’s End, but I’m not among them, and in some ways the disappointment seems generational.
But the “Cool Solution looking for a Problem” pitfall is one I’ve seen a few writers fall into, and it is a deadly trap. Here’s the problem with this approach. Your solution has to be either the only viable solution or the simplest. Otherwise when your readers come up with a better solution than your protagonists do, they will hurl your book against the wall.
I … speak from experience.
I’ll be vague here…
I read a book about a decade ago. It made me scream in frustration. I threw it against a wall, and later burned it in a fire pit. I’m serious.
Let’s take a non-book example, then get back to this book.
Someone has a cool idea for a movie and needs to brainstorm it:
Let’s put rough and rowdy oil field workers in space and have fun.
OK, how do we do that?
Maybe an asteroid is coming and NASA needs to blow it up? They need these guys to drill a hole for the bomb?
Couldn’t we just train astronauts?
No, no, no “it’s easier to train drillers to be astronauts than to train astronauts to be drillers” Really?
That doesn’t sound right.
Come on, it’s a movie. They’ll love it. How many viewers are going to be both experts in drilling and space? No one! We’re safe!
For the “Cool Solution looking for a Problem” to work, the experts in your story need to be smarter than your target audience, which means you need to be also.
Back to that infernal book…
Its cool solution was a huge space station orbiting Earth, with the elite of the elite surviving a disaster. The problem it wanted was all the political intrigue that would go into making it.
The problem that the author settled on was that biblical-level flooding was going to wipe out the Earth, covering it with water.
So, if you had a story where a known flood was going to happen (everywhere, so evacuation isn’t really feasible) what would be your first solution?
I’m sorry, Couldn’t hear you mumbling at the back of the class. Did you say, “boats?”
I know I did.
In fact I started imagining converting a PanaMax cargo vessel into a floating farm, with people living below decks, wind or solar as a source of power. Hell, a few thousand of these and you could save a decent sized city. (In this book, only a few hundred people would be allowed to survive on the space station).
Then think of all the smaller ships that exist and could be converted, like the tramp steamer pictured at the top of this page. With no land to go to, their engines don’t even need to be that great. You just need hulls with integrity to convert to little oasis of tenancies.
You could build a whole economy afloat, with smaller sailboats acting as fishing vessels. Scavenging the flotsam and jetsam of our society might be productive too.
In short, the technology to do this solution was much more feasible, mostly already existed, and would have allowed for an order of magnitude increase in the number of people who survived.
But in the story, NO ONE, not one of the ‘genius’ advisors gathered to ‘save humanity’, mentioned boats or ships as an option.
And that’s why that book got hurled and burned. I won’t buy another book by that author (caveat: I’m not sure I remember who the author was now). As a reader, they’ve lost me not only for that story but for all future outings.
And that’s a huge problem with a poorly executed “Cool Solution looking for a Problem”. You lose readers, not just on this one title, but on all going forward.
I recently participated in an author’s workshop where a very well-established, multiple-title-best-selling indie author offered advice to the rest of us. One point in particular struck a nerve with me, because I’m not sure that it was good advice for me (I know, you ignore advice at your own peril), but it certainly got me thinking.
The advice was to find a very narrow niche and write to it exclusively, to basically re-write the same story again and again (different characters and situations, but the same basic plot). “Your readers will love it. They’ll know what to expect when they buy one of your books.”
And I understand that as a marketing/branding idea: You buy a James Patterson book, you get the typical James Patterson story. There’s a template.
But there are many successful authors for whom this singular expectation isn’t true.
Robert Heinlein’s most successful stories were Starship Troopers (Military Sci-fi), A Stranger in a Strange Land (a very Kurt Vonnegut-esque discourse on religion and sex), and Friday (a cyberpunk story).
Frank Herbert’s follow-up to Dune was a book called Dragon in the Sea (re-released as Under Pressure), a World War III submarine warfare story. He also wrote books about human/alien interactions (there are no aliens in the Dune universe).
John Scalzi came to prominence with a military sci-fi series, Old Man’s War. His next most famous project was Red Shirts, a spoof of Star Trek. He’s written near-future medical thrillers (Locked In and its sequels) and flat out space opera (The Collapsing Empire). His next book is about kaiju (Godzilla-like monsters).
These very successful science fiction writers didn’t limit themselves to a narrow niche, and they didn’t lose their audiences by jumping around.
So maybe ‘narrow niche’ isn’t the way to build your brand and readership, in this genre at least. Maybe we get more flexibility if you don’t stray too far outside of the rather large SF/F arena.
Or maybe there’s another element to branding – be it voice, theme, or style.
Robert Heinlein’s stories often explored the status quo, the power structure behind society. Religion is an oft-repeated motif throughout the works of Frank Herbert. John Scalzi’s draw is his voice, a tone that is flippant, sometimes sarcastic, always light.
Then there’s Michael Crichton.
His books ranged from The Great Train Robbery (historical fiction) to Rising Sun (a police thriller) and Jurassic Park (sci-fi techno thriller). He also create the TV show ER and co-wrote the film Twister (yes that one, with Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt). Other than being entertaining, what’s his brand? He’s certainly not contained by a niche genre. Perhaps his brand is about exploring human interaction with (often new) technology.
Whenever writers on Twitter ask if it’s OK to write in more than one genre, I respond with the fact that Ian Fleming didn’t just create James Bond, he also created Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
That’s all well and good, but how does this help me? I don’t write in a narrow niche. What’s my brand?
I have thoughts.
The stories that I’m developing now or taking notes on to write later, range from a parallel Earth fantasy, a space opera, a military scifi, a time-travel series, a high fantasy and a techno-thriller. It’s a very wide niche, basically covering the whole spectrum of SF/F.
My stories can be situational (plot-driven) but are usually character-driven. So I (try to) write characters that you will care about and empathise with, flaws and all. Then I put them through hell, given them conflicts and conundrums and see how their morals adapt. Sometimes, I kill them.
I’d like to think that my stories reward a second (or third) reading, that elements and conversations that seem inconsequential early in the story pay off near the end, and a reader on their second pass would see the pieces more clearly.
I’ve written perhaps thirty short stories, at least as many dribbles (100-word stories), three full-length novels (in excess of 100,000 words each) and somewhere in excess of half a million words set within my own fictional worlds. Add on top of that my years as either a journalist, a copy-writer, or a fundraiser, and I’ve written a lot.
I want to tell you about three of my short stories and how their existences have been different from what I would have predicted. The stories in question are “Last Breath Day”, “Graceful Degradation”, and “The Maiden Voyage of Novyy Mir.”
When I wrote “The Maiden Voyage of Novyy Mir” five years ago, I thought it was the best story I’d ever written, and up to that point it may have been. I’ve submitted it to perhaps fifteen publications since then. (Each submission ties a story up for months).
This was the first story I wrote that got personalised rejections. What this means is that the magazine editors read it and seriously considered it. Then, when they decided not to use it, they still gave free editorial feedback on it. This is rare. But with Novyy Mir, it happens a lot. People like it, just not quite enough to publish it.
Three years ago, I wrote “Graceful Degradation.”
This story is such departure for me. It’s not easily categorised as science fiction. It’s a short story about a man reluctantly breaking the law in an attempt to honour his dead wife while living in a repressive society. I love this story. It’s still my favourite.
Just like Novyy Mir, it gets held for consideration and ends up coming back to me with kind notes from editors. The last time it came back to me, the whole editorial board (5 people) had offered individual feedback because they felt moved enough by that story.
Still, neither of those stories has sold.
In between these two, about four years ago, I wrote “Last Breath Day.” This is a very short story, about 1,300 words long. It’s good, but not my favourite by any stretch. Three years ago, in the autumn of 2017, I submitted it to an open call from a UK publisher.
They bought the story. It became my first professional sale and appeared in the Alien Invasion Short Stories anthology, published in March 2018 by Flame Tree Press.
Shortly after that, it was picked up and record for a podcast, Tall Tale TV. (It’s episode 64).
Just today, it’s been accepted into another anthology, this one supporting literacy during lockdown.
That one short story, the middle child of my greatest hits (to date), has done so much for me:
It’s my first qualifying story for membership in the SFWA (Science fiction & Fantasy Writer’s Association).
It got me listed in the Internet Speculative Fiction Database.
For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a recently-retired English teacher and a writer with an aggressive plan (I intend to publish 10 books between now and Christmas 2022).
Like many of you, I’m not thrilled with Facebook. They’ve taken too much information, too much control, and not shown enough restraint. I’ve read about the ways that Facebook radicalizes QAnon followers, supports racist groups and generally does not act like a good local or global citizen.
More and more, I’ve come to the conclusion that the world would be a better place without Facebook.
And yet, I’m still there.
Why?
Well, that ‘author’ part is a big reason why. There are too many resources that exist on Facebook alone. Facebook has gained a monopoly on certain communities, and I need three of them for my career.
There’s a group that’s specifically about how to market your writing when you’re an author. The group is run by authors for authors and is a great example of the philosophy that “A rising tide lifts all boats.” They offer so many free resources and lessons, help anyone who has questions … it’s an amazing resource for a new author and one that I’d want to contribute to once I’ve got some successes to draw lessons from.
There’s another group that’s specifically for my genre of writers. All it does is track which short story markets are seeking submissions. Now a lot of this information can be found elsewhere, and I know a few places that it appears in, but this group has the value add of writers who have worked with those markets before telling of their experiences. Again, a great tool for an ‘emerging writer.’
There’s another Facebook group for my genre of writers that’s solely focussed on craft. This is an essential tool for a successful writer. Again, there are other places, Codex may be one of them, or Scribophile or the Online Writers Workshop (the latter at least is a paid membership group).
The combination of these three resources, not available in any one other place, but probably replaceable across a broad spectrum of online communities, is one of the main reasons I’m still on Facebook.
The other is advertising. If you’re a writer, there are (too) many options to attract new readers. The two most impactful options are advertising on Amazon and Facebook. You can’t advertise on the platform if you’re not a member.
You’ll notice what’s absent from this list of reasons to stay – the personal social reasons. They’re fading rapidly.
Yes, I have many social contacts on Facebook it’d be hard to keep in touch with through other means. First, I’m an ex-pat, living on a different continent from my family. Second, I’ve taught students from well over a hundred countries, and met people from many more. Facebook is the standard way to keep in touch with these people.
But it’s the economic potential, the stranglehold that Facebook has on my career, that keeps me there.
As much as I may try to limit my interactions with the Facebook group of companies, they’re planning ways to force me to play by their rules.
Have you noticed anything odd about the new redesign? There are a bunch of functions that have become less than what they were, unless, and only unless, you are using either the iOS or Android app.
So on my desktop, I can no longer control what shows up in my favourites list (now called shortcuts). I can if I’ll download the phone app and give Facebook access to my phone. I won’t do that. I can no longer see which of the few visible favourites have had recent activity, something especially important for following story submission markets. Those counts have disappeared. Facebook controls that.
I won’t allow the Facebook app on my phone, nor Messenger. I’ve getting wary of the Instagram app and just waiting to hear the bad news about the WhatsApp app. On my desktop, I can still maintain some control, by installing the FBPurity and Fences plug-ins. This somewhat hinders Facebook’s ability to gather data on me, or push their unrequested content onto my screens.
But that doesn’t feel like I’ve done enough.
As part of my developing marketing strategy, I’ve purchased a few domains. I’ve seriously considered adding the Open Source Social Network plug-in as a sub-domain and starting my own little echo chamber, free of Mark Zuckerberg’s minions. But everyone I’d invite to use it would also want others there; others I don’t know or don’t like. Pretty soon I’d have to bear the costs of running a full social network, or start losing the attention of my desired members as they sought interactions with people I hadn’t allowed in.
So I’m here for now, biding my time, watching for alternatives, building routines that don’t include Facebook.
_ _ _
Stephen G Parks is the author of A Godless Man, due in December 2020, and the soon-to-be released short story collection, The Maiden Voyage of Novyy Mir. He lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia with his wife, his cat, and too many fish to name. You can learn more about his books at Skrap Books.
I’ve never done NaNoWriMo (and don’t want to have to type that name a lot – too many caps!). I’ve witnessed Twitter friends go through it. They’ve made it sound painful, honestly. Somehow it always seemed like a form of torture that i didn’t need to impose on myself. Continue reading My First NaNoWriMo→
The hardest thing for a new writer to do is to walk away from a sale. I should know, I just did it.
I sent a short story to an anthology. They accepted it. The money offered is not much, but then again, I’m not a ‘name’ writer (yet!). The exposure, or at least having another publication to list, was worth the money.
