Knowing where to draw the line

As I mentioned in a previous post, after the publication of The Little Book of Cynics, I put together several other little books. Here's what happened to one of them.

I did get one rapid response from a MAN UP submission, from a Chief Editor no less. She said her publishing house could see the market potential and liked my work but, in the current economic climate, they would need a financial contribution from me. Thankfully, Brian had already instilled a good dose of common sense into me so all that remained was to receive their no-obligations sample contract and, in the words of the great Jim Bowen (of Bullseye fame): 'Come and see what you would have won.'

They wanted a contribution of £1275. I'll wait for a moment while you all sit down or grab the furniture.
This is for a 'little book' of 110 quotes / pages and measuring 8 cm x 10.5 cm.

Okay, here's the science bit:
1. They offer a 20% royalty. Based on the similarly sized Little Book of Cynics and its cover price of £3.00, that represents £0.60 per book. £3000 for the first 5000 copies sold.
2. 1000 copies per year is a realistic projection for this kind of book in the humour / gift market - I've done some research.
3. This means that (£600 x 2 = less than £1275) it will take over two years before I break even.
4. A 20% royalty sounds very attractive but, if we subtract my £1275 contribution from a five-year projection of the total royalty (when I fantasise, I do it long-term), we get a figure of £1725 (£600 x 5 and then minus £1275).
5. Now, this £1725 equates to a royalty of approximately 8.69%, broadly in line with the industry. But remember, I'm risking £1275 and for the first two years I don't break even.

Someone somewhere said that money should flow to the writer. Kind of like our own prime directive. So I've written back to the publisher to thank them and tell them that I won't be taking up their opportunity. Maybe I'll give Jim Bowen a ring and ask him if he's got any unwanted speedboats available going cheap.

Oh, I nearly forgot, and it doesn't bode well when the contract you're sent has the title of your book mis-spelt!

When I first saw my name in print

Someone recently asked me about my membership of the Society of Authors. 'How come,' they said with an arched eyebrow, 'You're a member of the society but you've yet to have any of your novels published?'

Well, seeing as you asked ...

For years, on the quiet, David French and I have been producing our own magazine: As Above So Below. It's an eclectic mixture of spoof articles, features, adverts, de-classifieds and cartoons. Our subject matter is equally diverse - religion, philosophy, natural medicine, environmentalism conspiracies, politics, consumerism - you name it and if we can find an angle, we'll have a go at it.

The plan had always been to use the magazine as a springboard to greater things - scriptwriting, books and all manner of media experiments. So in 2004, I collated a collection of our pithiest sayings and sent them off to various Little Book publishers. Crombie Jardine said they were interested but their acquisitions budget was spent for the year, and invited us to resubmit in the future. As no one else (Michael O'Mara, Summersdale, Pocket Books, etc) wanted to take us up, we bided our time.

In 2006, having rewritten the 100 quotes and quips, and then organised them thematically, we went back to CJ. Success! They liked the book and offered us a contract for 2007. It was a standard buyout contract, a one-off payment in lieu of royalties. I joined the Society of Authors to get the contract looked over, considered their advice and went back to CJ with a suggested revision (upwards).

To be fair to CJ, they were absolutely straight with us and explained their model and why they were offering what they had. And, naturally, we were free to take our book elsewhere if we thought we could get a better offer. Cue: a large plate of humble pie to two hungry writers. We took the deal and in Sept 2007, The Little Book of Cynics (no longer The Little Book of Croydon but still referred to affectionally as LBOC) graced the shelves of Waterstones and others.

The interesting thing, some three years later, is that we did better out of the buyout deal than we would have under a standard royalty arrangement. Realistically, we were never going to get rich from LBOC, but I believe it has opened the occasional door when touting for comedy writing. It also taught me a lot about the business of books, and why it is vital that writers understand how the business works so they can play their part effectively.

I have put together another four Little Books since then, all currently on circulation to other publishers (CJ advised that they've shifted their publishing focus in the last couple of years) and all available to good homes. I would say 'no reasonable offers refused' but, as you'll see in a future post, I do draw the line somewhere.

Are you keeping it real in your writing?

I was in the Co-op today and I got the munchies. Luckily, a packet of chilli crisps caught my eye, primarily because of its proud boast: made with real ingredients. I'm sure we can all remember the bad old days of counterfeit ingredients in our savoury snacks. Once I'd emptied the packet - and scanned it in for posterity - I thought about how it could apply to writing.

As a writer, I strive for a sense of realism in my fiction. Whether it's Thomas Bladen working out who he can trust in Standpoint, or Syriem Taulpiris negotiating his way through a mystical journey in Covenant, there's always a set of conventions that apply. My readers may have agreed to the suspension of disbelief by turning the pages but, as Samuel Taylor Coleridge inferred, it's the writer's job to keep it that way until the last page. Or preferably, afterwards - because if they're still thinking about 'What Syriem did next' then they'll probably want to read more of my work..

Plot, point-of-view, characterisation, dialogue and pace must all work harmoniously to create a reality so enticing that they'll prefer it to the world they know, for a time. A key element of that is the authenticity of the emotions. Even if we haven't faced a bullet, known personal disaster or seen death up close, we have all known fear and loss. We may not have experienced an epic love that took us across continents or worlds but we all know what love feels like to have or to be denied. Childhood alone will teach you most of that!

Generally, the only things that I find dilute that authenticity of the emotions are intellectualising what I think a character is feeling or not allowing myself to go deeply enough into a scene. Either way, it's holding out on the reader and that's a big no-no. It might seem like it's all been done before but each time we feel something - really feel it - it is as fresh or as raw as the first time. Sometimes, even more so because it reconnects us with ther past.

And just as there are only so many ingredients in a snack (it was the first time I'd seen Calcium Chloride listed as a firming agent), so there is a finite number of ingredients to a book. The trick is to create a unique recipe, resulting in a distinctive flavour that will satisfy your customers again and again.