Faith and Fiction

Suzanne Francis, author of Heart of Hythea, Ketha’s Daughter, and Dawnmaid, has kindly consented to be my guest today. On the subject of Faith and Fiction, Suzanne writes:

We can all think of a series or two where religion plays a major role in the plot-like the Left Behindbooks by LaHaye and Jenkins or the Mitford Series by Jan Karon. Whether or not you agree with their beliefs, these are authors who have placed their own faith squarely at the center of the books they write.

Should we do the same? I can think of three reasons why we might.

–Spirituality is a deeply personal attribute, part of what makes us individuals. No two people, even two who belong to the same faith, believe in exactly the same things. Our faith, even if it is atheism, is a fundamental part of who we are. That is something we can use to differentiate our writing from all other authors, something that will allow us to claim it as our own.

–Most of us with religious beliefs feel that these tenets make us better people-that is why we follow them, after all. Many authors of fiction-like Ayn Rand or Jack Kerouac-have used the voices of their characters to present their own beliefs to the world. If we have an understanding, something that helps us, should we not also share it with others?

–Every author wants their characters to be multi-dimensional, to come to life for the reader. If we do not give our creations a spiritual dimension, then they are lacking one of the most essential qualities of humanity-the one thing that separates us from all other animals. Even if our character never discusses his or her faith or lack thereof, it must still be in the background affecting everything he or she says and does.

But how do we go about placing our beliefs in the context of our fiction without sounding artificial or preachy?

It pays to spend some time thinking about what you actually believe and how it affects your everyday life. That becomes the starting point. Do you have doubts? Have you suffered for your faith? Do you speak of it with others, or is it private?

Once you have a handle on that, then you can decide how much or how little you wish to include. Maybe you will put a single line in the mouth of a minor character. That might be enough. Alternatively, you can give a main character some of your convictions, and let it emerge little by little through their actions. Or perhaps, like C.S. Lewis, you can write a whole series of allegories around the things you believe. (But I think the Chronicles of Narnia is very preachy!)

In Song of the ArkafinaI gave one character, Arkady Svalbarad, a faith very much like Buddhism. I am not a Buddhist, not really, but I find the some of the philosophy very useful in my day-to-day life. Here is an example from Ketha’s Daughter:

—Nodding, he turned to his pack, and retrieved his tin plate and a small knife. He was hungry, and the rabbit smelled good, though it had been a year since he had last eaten any flesh. That was another thing he learned from his teacher in T’Shang — respect for all living creatures. But Dawa had also impressed upon him the importance of kindness to others, and that meant accepting any gift without complaint or reservation. So he ate the rabbit with pleasure and shared what food he had in return.—

Everything about this character is colored by his faith-both his successes and failures are measured against it. It gives him a genuineness I could never create otherwise.

My own belief system I would loosely describe as Paganism, though probably not the kind you are thinking of. I don’t own any robes, or do any rituals or chanting. But I do believe in the immanence of God in all things, and I hold the Earth to be sacred. I gave my convictions to a group of wanderers called the Firaithi. From Ketha again:

—”Still,” insisted Arkady. “It must be very difficult - always traveling like this. Do your young people not grow tired of your rootless existence?”

“Of course, some do,” admitted Huw. “Perhaps two or three each year decide to leave the Kindreds and make their way in the world of the Gruagán. But we raise our young ones to honor Asparitus, so most come back to us after a few years.”

“Asparitus? What is that?”

Huw stared thoughtfully at his sister Eira’s neatly painted caravan. “I don’t know a word in Maraison that means the same thing. Asparitus is our way of life. It means to tread gently on the Yrth, to use as little as we are able, and put back as much as we can.” He frowned. “We have very little, compared to the Gruagán in their fancy houses. They think of us as impoverished tinkers and thieves, when they think of us at all. But truly, Kadya, few of us would give up our place here amongst the Kindreds for all the gold of the Gruagán. Asparitus is all the treasure we need. Do you understand, my brother?”—

That is very, very close to the heart of my own faith, only lightly cloaked in the language of the Firaithi.

How will you clothe your faith in your fiction?

To find out more about Suzanne, read excerpts, or buy her books, check out her fictionwise book page.

On Writing: How To Use a Character Profile

Lately I’ve been coming across many different character-building worksheets, both online and in how-to-write books, but one point most fail to mention is how to use the biographies you create.

Knowing your characters’ families, friends, education, jobs, hobbies, strengths, weaknesses, goals, regrets, fears, desires, needs, might help you define your characters, but the real benefit of character biographies is to help you create the story.

It’s not enough simply to know what your hero believes, for example. If the belief doesn’t add anything important to the development of the story or the development of the hero’s character, it’s hardly worth mentioning. It’s not enough simply to know the hero’s background. If it isn’t important for the reader to know, if nothing is gained by its inclusion, if nothing is lost by its omission, then that, too, is barely worth mentioning.

On the other hand, if your story goes stale halfway through the book, you can mine both the hero’s beliefs and background for additional conflicts.

More than that, though, a well-constructed character biography can tell you what your story is and where it is going.

When you know your hero’s main goal, you will find the beginning of a plot line. When you know what will make the goal’s attainment the most difficult for the hero, you will find the central obstacle in the story. And when you know your hero’s greatest strength, you can figure out how your hero will eventually overcome the obstacle.

By exploiting your character’s greatest fear, you will be able to draw the most depth from your character because, of course, your hero must confront this fear or else you miss the point of your own story.

Through knowing your character’s weaknesses, regrets, needs, desires, vulnerabilities, you will find inner conflicts, subtexts, subplots, and all the bits of drama that pull readers into your world.

As your story progresses, you may find in your hero’s biography untapped wells of strength, previously undisclosed facts that might alter the situation, even characters from the hero’s past who might take unexpected and relevant action.

Most of all, a biography can help keep you focused on your character’s goals. It can help you avoid annoying little inconsistencies such as hazel eyes on page ten and blue or brown on page one hundred and ten. It can help you create a character arc because you will know which traits are static (an intelligent person doesn’t suddenly become stupid for no reason), and you will know which traits can show the character’s growth (perhaps a fear of commitment that becomes a willingness to commit).

But most of all, the biography tells you the story because character is so entwined with plot that it’s impossible to create one without the other.

The Novel Only You Can Write

It seems there are only four ways to get a traditional publisher to notice a new writer: be a celebrity, have a mentor in the publishing industry, be lucky enough so that your manuscript is on the right desk at the right time, or write a novel so extraordinary that it demands publication. Since I am not a celebrity, mentored, or lucky, the only option left for me is to write an extraordinary novel. How do I do that? Perhaps by writing a novel only I can write.

Obviously, we all come to writing from a certain point of view, from a certain set of experiences. To that extent, all writers write the novel only they can write, but still, most books on the market seem interchangeable. Anyone could have written them. So I am trying to figure out what only I can write.

For example, if I take a picture of a highway, it wouldn’t necessarily show any of my unique perspective. Only I would know the smell of road kill skunk that almost suffocated me while I was taking the picture. Only I would know of the traffic barreling toward me from behind and the sound of the jake brakes from the semi that almost ran me down. Only I would know that I stood there for ten minutes waiting for a traffic-less shot. But still, anyone standing in that same spot would have experienced the same thing. So what would make the photograph uniquely me? Heart and spirit? Memories and emotions evoked by the highway?

All I know is that to write something that only you or I can write, whether novel or blog, we have to know who we are, what makes us the same as everyone else, and what makes us different. The sameness creates empathy, the difference takes the writing out of the ordinary and into a class of its own.

Creating a Character — Part VI

The second half of a book is easy for me to write — I know the characters, their backstories and motivations — but I have trouble with the front part. My poor hero, Chip, has been running from a volcano for the past month while I’ve been trying to figure out who he is, what I need him to be, and what he needs to become.

According to Robert McKee in Story, “The most fascinating characters have a conscious desire and a contradictory unconscious desire. What he believes he wants is the antithesis of what he actually but unwittingly wants. (Although the protagonist is unaware of their subconscious need, the audience senses it, perceiving in them an inner contradiction.)”

After the volcano incident, Chip is going to meet an archetypal crone who was supposed to get him to thinking that now he wants a family (this after I’ve killed off almost everyone in the world and despite his need to be free) but it’s too soon in the book for him to want that. It would change the way he interacts with his mate when he finally meets her, which means it has to be a subconscious desire the old woman invokes in him, which changes my perception of the story, which means my WIP comes to a crashing halt while I rethink Chip’s wants and needs. And there he is, running from the volcano, waiting for me to figure him out so he can move on to the next disaster.

If a character wants something he himself doesn’t know he wants, it brings out different facets of personality than if he does know what he truly wants. The secret is to give character hints for the reader to pick up on without the author (or an authoritative character) explaining it. Much of reading is subconscious. We notice things without realizing we are noticing them.

Robert McKee also wrote: “The revelation of true character in contradiction to characterization (the sum of all observable qualities) is fundamental to all fine storytelling. What seems is not what is. People are not what they appear to be. A hidden nature waits concealed behind the facade of traits.”

If Chip doesn’t know what he truly wants until he gets it, it also will add a different dimension to the theme, which is freedom vs. safety. He first chooses freedom, next he chooses incarceration and saftey, then he chooses the excitement and danger of freedom over the boredom of safety, finally he chooses responsibility, a different facet of freedom.

By giving Chip an inner character in contradiction to his outer one, he should become a richer character which in turn will allow the story to explore all the facets of the theme rather than the rather simplistic one of freedom vs. safety.

Now all I have to do is get the poor guy away from that volcano or else there will be no story.

Creating a Character — Part I

Creating a Character — Part II

Creating a Character — Part III

Creating a Character — Part IV

Creating a Character — Part V

On Writing: The Name of the Game is “Hurt the Hero.”

I like my characters and don’t enjoy hurting them so my novels tend to focus on unraveling the mystery of the situation, because one thing I do understand is that at the heart of all books is a discovery. In a mystery, the discovery is the killer. In a romance, the discovery is love. In a character driven novel, the discovery is the nature of the character himself.

For the first time, though, I understand why the hero needs to be hurt. If the hero doesn’t hurt, why should we care? And if he doesn’t hurt, how would we ever discover his emotional core, what it is that he really cares about? When we discover what the character cares about, we care about him, and want to read to see how he reacts to the hurt and to find out what he is going to do to make it stop.

True character is revealed in the choices a person makes under pressure or when he is hurting or both. The greater the pressure, the deeper the revelation will be and the truer the choice to the character’s essential nature. Pressure is necessary. Choices made when nothing is at risk mean little.

In Worlds of Wonder: How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy, David Gerrold wrote: “You need to ask yourself these questions in every situation. Asking these questions brings each scene to life: Why is the moment important? Where is the pain? Why does it hurt? And most important — what will make it worse?”

In life, experiences often become meaningful with reflection and time. In retrospect, a horrendous experience takes on an aura of excitement or even happiness because we remember being fully alive. In art, experiences are meaningful now, at the moment they are happening on the screen or in the novel. We can see instantly that the character is hurting, but we can also feel the excitement of the moment, the adrenaline rush. It all happens at once, the reflection and the experience, which explains why movies and books sometimes seem more real than life itself. Without the character hurting, however, the experience becomes muted, less real.

So: hurt the hero. I guess I’ll just have to learn to like it. Or at least learn how to do it well.

Writing Sex Scenes

In its essence, a sex scene in a novel is no different from any other scene, and the key to writing it is to figure out its objective. If you’re just putting it in there because you think it’s time for some titillation, it will not have the resonance of a motivated scene. (Though in some novels, category romance especially, titillation alone is an acceptable objective.)

There are many other objectives for a sex scene besides titillation: to bring the couple closer together; to show that they want each other even though they can’t tolerate each other; to bring them comfort; to show the maturation of one character (perhaps he couldn’t commit, and now he can); to show the intensity of the relationship; to slow the pace of the book or speed it up; to bring a bit of humor or playfulness to a somber work.

Once you know the objective, you can write a fitting action/reaction sequence. If comfort is the objective, you can show them together at the beginning, close the door during the action, and show them cuddling afterward. If tenderness is the objective, you can show a bit of the action in addition to the before and after. And of course, if their desperation for each other is the objective, you will need to leave the door open during the scene. As with all resonating scenes, when it is over there must be some reaction, some change to the character or the direction of the story. And the objective dictates that reaction. If the scene was about bringing comfort to the characters, we need to know whether they found comfort or failed to find it, and we need to know the characters’ emotional response to the success or failure of that objective. This reaction, in turn will help set up the next scene.

Scenes also help show who the characters are, and where better to do this than when they are at their most vulnerable. The sex scene I wrote that I like best is one where the woman calls out her partner’s name, and he exults to himself, “I’ve still got it!” That defined them and their relationship.

The problem I have with sex scenes is that, in the end, there are only so many different ways of writing them and after a while they begin to seem ho-hum. Finding the objective helps make the scene unique, as does sense description not related to the act. Can they smell the garbage outside the motel window? Is the traffic only a faint hum from her penthouse? How does the office desk feel beneath her back? Each of these bits gives the scene a depth it might not otherwise have.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to have a sex scene in my current work. After devolving (or evolving depending on your point of view) from graphic sex in my first novel to none at all in my fourth, I thought I’d run the gamut. But then I realized I have never done a humorous sex scene, so that’s what I’m going to aim for. Not a bad objective.

Your Mother-in-Law, the Sociopath

Anyone who writes crime fiction, especially novels about a serial killer, is familiar with the sociopathic personality. But not all sociopaths are killers. Some psychologists estimate that there are thirty thousand psychopaths who are not serial killers for every one who is. So who are these non-killing psychopaths? Your neighbor, perhaps, or your mother-in-law. Maybe even the psychologists who came up with the sociopathic profile. Possibly even you.

Abused children who were not born with a sociopathic personality usually grow up to lead normal lives. Sociopaths who were not abused usually grow up to lead normal lives or lives that mimic normalcy. Sociopaths sometimes become killers because of childhood abuse, and sometimes they become killers simply because they want to. (The killer in the Dutch version of The Vanishing was a classic sociopath who killed to see what it would feel like.)

Even if you don’t write crime fiction, familiarity with the sociopathic personality can help you create dynamic characters and even interesting dialogue. For example, sociopaths frequently use contradictory and illogical statements such as “I never touched her, and anyway, she wanted it.”

A sociopath has difficulty connecting to others, though people often like them. They are charming, glib, witty, and use captivating body language. Because of their impulsiveness, need for excitement, poor behavior controls, and lack of responsibility, they can be fun companions, but because they lack empathy, conscience, and remorse, they can never truly connect with anyone.

Other characteristics of the sociopath are shallow emotions, egocentricity, lying for no reason, no need to conform to societal standards, the skill to detect and exploit the weaknesses of others. They are also well satisfied with themselves, never looking back with regret or forward with concern.

One characteristic that keeps a sociopath from being a good fiction hero is that in fiction heroes need to change during the course of the novel, and sociopaths have solid personalities that are extremely resistant to outside influences. But, being the manipulative creatures that they are, they can make us believe they have changed.

Sounds to me like an interesting character. With or without the killing.

 

On Writing: Accomplish Your Scene Goal and Get Out

I’ve been on a hiatus from my apocalyptic novel, but now that I’m back, I have no more idea of how to write my current scene than I did a month ago when I abandoned Chip, my hero. After Chip hiked through his changed neighborhood, encountering one horror after another, he rescued a pit-bull from a raging river. He met the dog’s owner, talked to him for a few minutes. And that’s where I left him.

I’d been looking forward to that particular scene, thinking it would be easy to write because I would have two characters to work with. I worried about Chip spending too much time alone, but some of those solitary scenes turned out quite well. The changing environment, a defunct plumbing system, and a few of out-of-place and out-of-time creatures gave Chip plenty of conflict. Maybe too much conflict. By comparison, the scene with his mentor (the dog’s owner) is flat. It was supposed to be a high point, but it’s going nowhere.

In the mythic journey scenario, mentors help prepare the hero to face the unknown. They give the hero gifts, which the hero must earn. (Chip earned his gift by rescuing the mentor’s dog.) Mentors act as a conscience for the hero, though sometimes the hero rebels against the nagging conscience. Mentors motivate. And they plant information that will become important during the climactic moment. You’d think, with all that to work with, the scene would just burst out, fully formed. But it’s not happening, which is why I’m sitting here at the computer blogging instead of writing.

Maybe I need to think of something else to give the scene spice. Maybe Chip doesn’t like the mentor, or maybe he doesn’t like the advice the mentor gives him. And maybe I need to rethink the dialogue.

Despite all the writing books that say you need short bits of dialogue, if there’s nothing to be gained by all that back and forthing, it’s better to string one character’s dialogue into a longer speech rather than have the conversation come out sounding like an interview. And if there’s no way to make a scene more interesting, it should be cut to its essentials. Accomplish the scene goal, and get out. In this case, there’s no reason to prolong the meeting with the mentor since Chip will never see him again.

And maybe I should stop over thinking the scene and just write something, anything, to get me back in the habit of writing. If it doesn’t work, I can always fix it during the rewrite.

Form is not Formula

Many writers fight against anything that resembles form in writing, but form can be a good thing. T.S. Eliot said, “When forced to work within a strict framework, the imagination is taxed to its utmost — and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom, the work is likely to sprawl.”

To keep a work from sprawling, to give it a feeling of inexorability, everything in a novel needs to be related to everything else in the novel. If it is a love story, the theme needs to be related to love, the inner conflicts need to be related to love, the setting and the imagery should add to the tone of a love story. Murder, mayhem, and mystery are all acceptable elements of a love story, but they need to relate to the love story. Do they bring the lovers together? Or do they tear them apart?

The form of a love story demands the meeting of two would-be lovers who are worthy of being loved, something that throws them together and keeps them together while they are trying to overcome physical or emotional obstacles to their happiness, a bleak moment when it seems as if they will never make it, an interesting twist or a final crisis to delay the ending a bit more, and then a fitting and satisfying ending.

In category romance, more than any other genre, there are extensive forms to follow depending on the publisher, and those publishers explain exactly what they want. For example, Harlequin has a new imprint called Next which is designed for women over forty who want to know what comes next in their lives. The readers of these stories have already experienced first love, perhaps been married, maybe have grown children, so they have different goals and dreams than women in their twenties and thirties. And writers of these stories have new forms to follow.

But form is not formula. Form helps focus a story, and within any form are an infinite number of variables. The freshness and originality of the story depends upon the writer and the writer’s choices.

Writing is all about the choices a writer makes, and the more specific those choices are, the more the work will burst out in vivid color. At the very least, form helps determine the initial choices necessary when beginning to write a novel. Form is like the viewfinder on a camera. Only certain objects are visible through the viewfinder, yet while looking at what those objects, we get an impression of the entire environment. That, in the end, is what writing is: showing an entire world by the specific characters we create, the objects we choose to describe, the story we choose to tell no matter what its form.

 

Contracts, Publicity, and Everything Else You Want to Know About Small Publishers

I asked Vana Roth, author of A Nation of Expendables, about her experiences with her publisher, if she had much communication with them, if she had to sign a complicated publishing contract, and how much publicity and promotion she had to do. She very generously responded:

Hi, Pat.

Experience with a Small Publisher 

The following is based on personal opinion of working with a small publisher. Since this is my first book, I have nothing else to compare it to. Therefore, in answer to your questions, my experience with a small publisher has been very positive. Other than the original book release being pushed back a few months, everything has gone really well. Whether publishing with a large or small imprint, release dates tend to fluctuate and it’s a matter of being patient. Regardless of what happens when, the contract states the length of time the publisher has to get the book from contract award to print. It can take eighteen months or longer depending on the length of the book. Eighteen months may sound like a long time but it really isn’t when considering how long it can take to get a manuscript through edit, copy-editing, and artwork. A whole lot of coordinating goes on in the background and timing depends on the publishers schedule as well as those chosen to perform other services. If the publisher fails to publish in the specified amount of time, all assigned rights revert to the author. The author is free to pursue another publisher with none of the original publisher costs charged back to the author. A Nation of Expendables took fourteen months from contract award to print. 

Communication 

It’s my understanding; publishers may assign the first read of a manuscript to an editor or editors. After reading, the editor makes a recommendation to the publisher as to whether the manuscript is viable. Based on editor recommendations, genre, topic and reader interests the publisher makes the final decision about offering a contract. The editor assigned to my book was the first to inform me of the contract award. A couple days later, the publisher followed up with a personal phone call for introductions. A few days later, I received the contract in the mail for review. All-important communications have been handled through email or regular mail, which I prefer since it gives me a ready reference for anything I might forget and a legal copy of what’s been discussed and agreed to beyond the original contract. I’ve talked several times with everyone who’s worked on my book. Communication is essential especially when you think about the importance of the final product. Once the book goes to print, it’s extremely costly to make changes; it has to be right the first time. I haven’t any negative things to say about the experience thus far. I suppose it has to do with my publisher and the professionals she contracted to handle my book. I had about a thousand questions and they were all answered in a timely manner. Everyone was very friendly, accessible and professional. Other authors under the publishers imprint have been very helpful in offering support and advice. It’s been a huge learning curve for me but since everyone’s been so helpful to the Newbie, it’s been a real pleasure. 

Publishing Contract 

Immediately after submitting a synopsis to agents and publishers, I started researching traditional publishing contracts to find out what’s standard, what to watch out for, what areas could and should be re-negotiated and what legally needs to be present by federal law. There are tons of great sources on the internet to research publishing contracts. If you’re ever in doubt, you can have an attorney who specializes in publishing contracts and copyright law review a contract.  

I was originally offered (3) contracts for A Nation of Expendables. One I rejected because the publisher wanted a re-write with more graphic detail of the blood and guts. The second was a one-page contract from an attorney turned publisher. He sent a one-page contract; I sent back a seven-page amendment, needless to say, the relationship deteriorated from there. Although royalties would have been paid at 50% on print copies, the contract was exclusive and for an indefinite period (pretty much forever). Standard contracts run from three to five years. The publisher also wanted 100% of the subsidiary rights with no provision for royalties or payment for these rights. Subsidiary rights are but not limited to, foreign language translations, film options, TV options, brail editions and other formats such as ebooks and audio CD’s. The contract was also missing the actual publishing date required by federal law. The publisher has to specify when the book will be in actual print and available for purchase. It’s my understanding the federal ruling came about since some publishers would enter into contracts with authors with no intention of ever publishing their books. They would tie up the rights for as long as possible to keep certain books from competing with books on similar subjects they wanted to put money into promoting. The only rights assigned to my publisher are English language rights in print and English language ebooks. I retained all other rights but have an option to assign these rights to my current publisher for a percentage if I so choose and if opportunity presents itself. The three-year contract I received was very fair and in my mind as close to perfect as one gets. There were only a couple, minor areas needing negotiation.  

Negotiating a Contract 

If you’re negotiating a contract without an agent as a middleman, you have to remember all publishers expect to make a profit, which is normal. They will keep a larger percentage if you allow them. If you’re uncomfortable with the percentage offered, there’s nothing stopping you from asking for more. The worse that will happen is the counter offer may be rejected. From what I’ve read, royalties on print copies range from 5% to 15% and 10% to 50% on electronic formats depending on the publisher. When you get a contract, pay close attention to the percentage of royalties on ebooks. Established publishers could go up to 50% split since there’s little cost involved once the book’s been formatted and put on a server for download.  

In my opinion, a good traditional contract from a small publisher to an unproven author offers royalties on a graduated scale based on sales volume: 10% on the first 5,000 copies, 12% on the next 5,000 and 15% on anything after in print form with a minimum of 20-25% on all ebooks. If you can get more, which is difficult…great…but if you can’t, in my opinion the graduated scale is very good. If a publisher offers 50% on all print copies, you may need to pay special attention to what’s missing in the contract. You may be signing control of your book away for life and/or your subsidiary rights without any financial benefit. There are a number of other issues addressed in the contract such as copyright ownership, first right of refusal on sequels, book character ownership, etc. A contract from a reputable publisher will put everything up front and in writing. If these issues aren’t addressed in the contract, I’d have serious doubts about the publishers’ integrity. 

You probably already know this but under a traditional contract there’s never a charge to the author for any publishing services. Never pay for artwork, edit, copy-edit or printing. A reputable traditional publisher will assume all up front costs. Some small publishers may or may not offer an advance. Mine did not and I didn’t have a problem with it. I think the hardest thing for an author to decide is whether to accept a contract or hold out for one they think may better. 

About Agents 

Since I haven’t an agent and negotiated the contract myself, I don’t have to pay anyone 15% off the top of my earnings. If this book does well, it will be easier to find an agent and/or if necessary, another publisher for the next book. I’m still not sure at this point if there’s a benefit to having an agent unless an author’s only interested in publishing with a large imprint since it’s almost impossible to get their attention without one. Unless you have multiple manuscripts the agent agrees to represent, once a publisher’s found and the contract is signed, there’s very little left for them to do. Personally, I’d rather pay a good publicist the 15%. 

Publicity and Promotion 

Publicity and promotion is a tough one, my publisher has a very active publicist. It’s still early for my book and there may be more requirements. So far, the only things I’ve been asked to provide is a short bio, applicable website addresses, and blurbs about the book that my editors helped write. The publicist takes this information and copies of the book to conventions to generate interest. She also presents the book to a variety of chain stores. The goal is to get the chain store to put the book on their approved purchase list and to stock it. The publicist also helps set up book signings and interviews. No matter what type of publisher is sought, all authors nowadays are required to promote their own work so unless you have $25-50,000 for a personal publicist and unlimited funds for marketing, you’ll be required to do a fair amount of promoting yourself. 

Conclusion 

I consider myself very lucky when it comes to being published. There are close to 1,756,000 fiction and non-fiction manuscripts submitted to publishers (big or small) each year. Between 3-5% of those ever get published. These figures do not include books from self-published authors or technical manuals (medical, technological or mechanical). This is why I chose to go with a small publisher with good distribution. The odds of being noticed by one of the larger imprints were very low. In addition, smaller houses can keep books active longer. If a book doesn’t generate immediate interest, a large publisher may only keep a book active for six weeks. My publisher will keep the book active for eighteen months unless we agree to another contract at the end of this one keeping it active longer. At some point since small publishers don’t have millions of dollars behind them for promotion, they’ll ask you to submit a promotional business plan. What they’re looking for are the methods (email, direct mail, web site, phone calls, newspapers, etc.) you intend to use to help promote your work. 

Other than that, I can’t think of anything else to tell you. If you have any other questions…please feel free to ask! 

Always a pleasure, take care,

Vana Roth 

For more about A Nation of Expendables see: http://vanaroth.com