Part 1 of this series shared three critical issues to ask any publisher before signing with them:
- Marketing – how would the publisher get word of my book out to potential readers?
- Distribution – how would the publisher get my book into potential readers’ hands?
- Career Development – what would the publisher do to help me become a better author?
This post deals with publisher #5, another British based publisher who wanted/wants to be everybody’s friend but doesn’t want to run a business. You can be friends with your publisher and in the end you’re in business together…especially if everybody’s goal is to make money!
I mentioned publisher #5’s niceties in A Tale of Six Publishers – Part 5.1. This post deals with publisher #5’s inability to make business decisions. Except bad ones. Enough of those and your career dies with them.
3. How do we get more authors involved?
Emerging from one of their dark periods, they wanted to know how to get more authors involved, specifically American authors.
Easy, hold a contest. Make sure there’s a worthwhile prize. Folding money is best because most authors never have enough of it. Beside the cash award design a nice award graphic and make sure you promote the hell out of both the contest and the winner(s). Follow that up with a nice plaque or some such the winner(s) can put on their wall, their desk, show their friends, use for bragging rights, … And remember that the higher the entrance fee and the stricter the guidelines the smaller a response you’ll get. You want to get your publishing house known, so a small entree fee – if one at all – and lax guidelines. Combine that with generous cash prizes for first, second, third, and honorable mentions, and you’re in.
This was a grand idea! How much should they give away? 10£?
“Is that for the first place winner? How much does that translate into US dollars?”
No, that was all the awards together.
(Oy!) It didn’t matter what 10£ came to in US dollars, that wasn’t enough to go around, period. Might as well just forget the contest idea.
They didn’t want to charge an entrance fee and, as money was tight and they didn’t want outside funding unless it amounted to an outright gift, they had to keep the awards low.
“Understood. I’ll put up the the prize money. Let’s do 500$US total; a 250$US First Prize, a 100$US Second Prize, two 25$US Third Prizes, and ten 10$US Honorable Mention Prizes.”
They were thrilled. Excited. Jubilant!
“And I don’t want to be involved. I’m not going to judge, I’m not going to submit, I’m not going to promote. This is yours, all you. All I’m doing is putting up the prize money. I don’t even want anybody to know I’m involved. It’s a gift so the contest can move forward. You never have to pay me back. Ever.”
They backed away. In less than three minutes. Remember putting playing cards on your bicycle so they riffle against the wheel spokes and sound like a motorcycle?
This was a blown Harley-Davidson without exhausts.
Confusion covered me like a heavy blanket. A pattern formed. Between not wanting funding, not wanting essentially free prize money, and going dark whenever things like real marketing had to get done, it became obvious.
Taking responsibility was not their forte. In fact, anything smacking of being held accountable for anything business wise was like asking Dracula to drive a stake through his heart.
4. “Your girl never got back to me.”
Before the contest fiasco, I actively promoted publisher #5 to some author friends. One such friend workshopped with me and didn’t like her then current publisher (who happened to be publisher #3, by the way).
I asked publisher #5 if they were interested and described author-friend’s work. They were. I put them in contact with each other.
And here’s where the icing not only got on the cake, it spilled onto the plate, the table, and dripped on the floor; publisher #5 and author-friend spent an hour on Zoom together. Publisher #5 gave her marketing ideas, suggested reviewers, offered cover suggestions, explained Amazon Ads, …
Author-friend was thrilled. “Shall I send you my finished manuscript?” Publisher #5 nodded vigorously.
And then author-friend waited…and waited…and…waited. No word. No nothing. No emails answered, no DMs replied to, no nothing. Zada. Nada. Zilch!
Familiar?
Author-friend ended up going with publisher #3 against their better judgement because “You’re girl didn’t get back to me.”
I tracked down publisher #5 and asked what happened. It was the last I saw of them – the last anybody saw of them – for three months.
The Black Hole once again claimed publisher #5’s soul.
Not to mention my good intentions and wishes for them.
Next week, the publisher-author goes naked.