As you know (and if you don’t, you should really try harder to keep up) my original book, Postcards From Across the Pond was recently released from the publisher with the rights reverting back to me. Naturally, I self-published it immediately.
I was, and remain, chuffed about this circumstance, but in all the excitement I neglected to spare a thought for the fact that this means I am no longer a published author. I am just some guy who completed a manuscript and posted it to Kindle.
These are the books; one is the published edition, the other my edition:
Can you tell them apart? I can’t. It’s the exact same text, the same cover (used with permission) and the same format. The only difference is the notation on the title page where my old publisher’s name is replaced with my own. But suddenly, my local bookstore doesn’t want to know who I am. They will no longer stock this book, or any of my other DIY efforts.
I have, it seems been relegated to “Indie” status.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, the only way I can think of to say “I self-published a book” without sounding chagrined is to follow it up with, “and I sold a shed-load of copies.” That, it seems, is now my only option, so that is what I am going to have to try.
I have a number in mind—nothing excessive—that I think will add an edge of respectability to the venture. I’m keeping that to myself for now, but I will let you know if my readers seem up to the challenge in the weeks to come. Release day is in a week and a half.
Speaking of, the proof copy of Postcards From Ireland (the reason for all this brouhaha) arrived and it looks really good, especially when you consider that I made the cover myself. The only jarring feature was the color of the pages.
I went with white on More Postcards because the original Postcards was published (by a real publisher) using white paper, but then I read a book on how to be a proper, professional-type self publisher and was assured that cream paper was the way to go because proper books were printed on cream paper. And so I went with cream on the last book, fully anticipating going back and changing the others, until I saw the copy.
I think it was so jarring because the other two are stark white. But for all that, they don’t look bad, or unprofessional. Then I started looking around at other, property published books and found that some non-fiction books—such as collections of comical essays—were printed on white paper. So, taking all that into account—and having gotten used to seeing the yellow-tinted pages of Postcards From Ireland, I have decided the best thing to do is to leave the first two books as they are—printed on white paper—and keep the new book, which is, after all, a story of sorts and therefore a better candidate for cream-colored paper, as it is.
And that’s a good thing because, at this point, I really don’t need to make any more work for myself.