A Writer's Notebook

I was going to continue with my observations on the book-selling business, but then Infinity Publishing sent me the proof book on my latest novel, Pennington's Patrimony, and it seemed more expeditious to clean it up and get it back to them in order to hasten the time when the novel gets online, on the bookshelves or wherever.

I was not elated to find that in 368 pages I could find only 34 lines that called for repairs of various sorts. I'd like to say that they were all typographical errors, but that would be self-serving, if not dishonest. It took two days to read it, mark it up, and get it in the mail. Infinity should receive it 10/19, if UPS does its job properly. My object, obviously, is to get the book before the public before the holiday buying spree begins. No use writing a book, if you can't make a few bucks on it.

Don't get me wrong: I don't have any illusions about making a bundle. On the contrary, of the six self-published books I've written so far, I am approximately $3,000 in the hole, Reason: I suckered into every ploy of the book-selling industry, only to discover that most of them fall far short of the publisher's promises of "exposure" of y our work.

Young writers beware: You are the only one who can pitch your own product to your own satisfaction. It's a bitter lesson, believe me.

Maybe I can get back to my dissertation on the book-publishing, book-selling industry in a subsequent blog. I've got some horror stories to tell that might spare you a lot of pain and heartbreak.