Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Small but perfectly formed...?


A writer got in touch recently to ask if we would accept a novella as a submission - in fact, not just one, but two very loosely linked novellas.

Why not, says I. A bonus of being a new kid on the publishing block is that we're not receiving 300 submissions a week and can afford the time to indulge our whims somewhat. Naturally, we'd love to be in a position where we are receiving those kind of numbers. Of course, we'd then just complain about being too busy...

The submission arrived yesterday, and I'm hoping to read it over the next few days, along with clearing a backlog of other submissions and assorted pieces. But it got me thinking. I like a good novella. There have been some fine books published over the years that were, in truth, novellas masquerading as full-length works, or that are widely thought of as novels, largely because of their reputation. Stories such as I Am Legend - Matheson's 1954 creation had just 160 pages - and Conrad's Heart of Darkness topped the scales at just over 51,000 words.

Yet, by and large, most acclaimed novellas are old works. They don't seem to be in favour in today's publishing world, although they are still around, often as part of an anthology of shorter stories. One such example is The Reflecting Eye, John Connolly's brilliant chiller featuring Charlie Parker, the central figure in his long-running series of novels. It closes the author's Nocturnes collection, and there is barely a wasted word in his 110 pages. It also introduces readers to The Collector, an ambiguous stranger who has quickly become one of Connolly's finest creations. Surely something as beautifully-formed as The Reflecting Eye can't be all bad?

Think about it - how many epics door-stops do you see produced these days? Not that many. What time do folk these days have to commit to reading books, particularly when they're catching up on blogs/twitter/facebook? Spare time is a scarce commodity in today's society. Books, generally, have contracted in size in recent years, and maybe novellas are the way to go. Certainly ease production costs for publishers, that's for sure.

But maybe I'm biased. Do other readers enjoy novellas? Are they long enough to truly develop a story and characters? And how much cash would you be prepared to fork out for a 100 to 150-page book?

Cheers
JQ

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Down, down, you bring me down...

Trying to get a small indie publishing house off the ground in today's publishing climate often feels like hurtling headlong in a burning car with no brakes towards the edge of the Abyss. And I don't just mean a long drop, I mean The Abyss. You know, demons and stuff.

There's so much doom and gloom around. Whether it's traditionalists panicking about the appearance of the army of ebooks cresting the top of the mountain, supported by legions of Kindles and iPads, the Google book settlement and what it means for authors, book stores struggling to turn a profit or large publishing houses shedding jobs quicker than James Patterson churns out books, I often wonder if we're not completely off our rockers to be getting ourselves into this, if indeed we know what this is.

Yet I can't help but feel we're at the start of someting, if not beautiful, then bloody exciting. Sure, it's a period of uncertainty for the publishing industry; and those who claim to know how things will pan out over the next five to ten are speculators at best, deluded at worst. But it is reassuring when respected voices such as agents Peter Cox, with this column in The Bookseller, and Nathan Bransford, with this blog post, say it how I see it.

Cynics will say it's a natural reaction from agents - to try and put a positive spin on events, given that they make their living by representing authors, and trying to find The Next Big Name, and a positive, optimistic unpublished writer will (generally) produce a better manuscript than one who's depressed because they think the world that they so desperately want to conquer is crumbling before their eyes.

I don't know Nathan, but I do know Peter through Litopia, and I don't believe he's bigging the future of publishing up because, well, it's his job. The impression I get is one of true excitement, and Peter is doing everything he can, both for his authors and the members of Litopia, to be at the cutting edge of publishing. It's a similar emotion that radiates from Nathan's blog; these guys love publishing, writing and, yes, even unpublished authors.

And that enthusiam is infectious. I feel sorry for anyone who can't share in it.

For us at Nemesis, one of the most important tasks we face over the coming few months is to learn everything there is to know about ebooks, and look to position ourselves to exploit the market, where possible. There are niche markets - such as the overseas Manx - where we know ebooks will likely present a more financially attractive proposition than a hard copy, which is handicapped by delivery costs to the US and elsewhere.

Now, if I could figure out how to bottle the enthusiasm emanating from these agents, we'd be quids in.

Till next time
JQ

Monday, 25 January 2010

Here's my submission. I'm still editing it, mind you...

A submission pinged in our inbox yesterday, with synopsis and first three chapters attached. All looking good so far. Then I started reading the covering letter and had to pull hard on the reins after a couple of lines. This, the author said, was his novel. Which he wanted us to consider for publication. And then he dropped that immortal line: 'I'm in the process of editing it...'

Chaps and chapesses - given the size of our little enterprise, and the fact that we're still relatively new to this publishing malarkey, we can afford the luxury of indulging this author, at least for the time being. There will, we hope, come a time when I'm having to pull all-nighters just to keep up with emails and submissions. At that point, 'I'm still editing it' might be struggling.

No doubt there are a few agents and publishers out there who are happy to accept submissions that aren't yet polished and shiny, trusting their instinct as to whether they can work with the author to produce a knockout book. I can think of one agent who does this, and it is something that we might be prepared to do, at least while the business is growing.

But if you're a writer firing submissions out into the world, the vast majority of agents and publishers will reach for the polite rejection stamp the moment they read 'I'm still editing'. If you're not submitting work that you think is as good as it gets, then they won't want to know.

Get it polished.

Sunday, 17 January 2010

Regular spot on Litopia


Thanks to literary agent Peter Cox, who runs the Redhammer agency, our antics here at Nemesis Publishing will be catalogued over the coming months on the Litopia Daily podcast.

Peter has kindly invited me, on a monthly basis, to talk all things publishing and to chart how the development of Nemesis is progressing. We recorded the first piece this evening - watch this space for details on when it will air.

As with all these things, the moment the Skype call ended, I thought of several points I didn't mention, or should have explained better, but I' ve been a semi-regular guest panellist on the Litopia After Dark podcast for a while now, and know that Peter is very skilled in editing and preventing me from sounding like a halfwit, or at least a complete halfwit.

One thing I didn't touch on, but hopefully will in future updates, is the influence Peter's Litopia writing colony has had on me during the last two years. It's fair to say that, if I hadn't stumbled across Litopia, and made a cracking bunch of friends and contacts, and digested the advice and info they impart, Nemesis wouldn't be anywhere near the stage that it is now.

So, thanks Litopia, and thanks to Peter. If you have any interest in developing yourself as a writer, you could do a lot worse with an hour or so of your time to register on Litopia and spend a while finding out whether it is the kind of place for you.

Now, back to editing....

Tuesday, 12 January 2010

Cool news - part two

As with all the best sequels, there's been a bit of time between our last post and this follow-up. Call it being a tease. Call it building suspense. Call it being downright slack...

But we're back now, folks, with this, our first blog post of 2010. To be honest, I've held off for a reason. The back end of last year was stupidly busy, with us publishing our first book, me finishing writing and then doing publicity for The Manx Giant, and then there was a short break away, the usual Christmas panic and mayhem. You know the sort of thing.

However, the overriding thing was this - we needed to wait for confirmation on cool news part two, and indeed, cool news part three.

Part two is now in, and here you have it. We have been approached by an acquaintance who is very supportive of what we're trying to do, which, for new readers of this here blog, is get an indie publishing house off the ground from a standing start. Absolute ground zero.

Anyway, this acquaintance/benefactor has offered to support us financially on a project by project basis - which means, in a nutshell, that as and when we need it, we can call in extra funds. This might be to secure a larger than usual print run, should we feel it warrants it; or it could be to secure a book where the design and print work is complex.

It's a good position for us - we retain full control of the business, including the decision on whether or not to publish a book, and the only proviso is an obvious one - if we put a particular project to our benefactor, and they aren't convinced, then they step away from it. No problem.

Ultimately, what this does give us is a bit of flexibility. Without it, we would have had to work from the ground up, with each book (potentially) having to do well before we could move up a grade in publishing terms.

With the benefactor in place, we can climb a couple of rungs on the ladder, which is what we are doing for our third book, which will follow the first issue of Vertigo, now set for an Easter launch.

Book three will be a biography. And that, of course, is where cool news part three comes in. But you'll have to wait for that. It won't be as long a wait as it was for this post, I promise...

And don't get me started on cool news part four. That's just too much.

Friday, 16 October 2009

Cool news - part one


A month? Has it seriously been a month since we last met? That is very remiss of me, and I don't even have an excuse. Well, not one you'd believe, anyway.

So what's been happening? We're close to finishing the design on both the Arbory School book and the first issue of the Vertigo anthology. There's another week or so of work to do, but we're close. I can almost smell the print.

There have been a few things happening behind the scenes these last few weeks - three cool snippets of news, in fact, but I'll just tell you the first for now. Always keep something in reserve, Quirky, that's what my old cross-country coach used to tell me. (And I did. It was a bag of cakes. And very nice they were too)

The first news is that author Chris Ewan has kindly agreed to pen a foreword for Vertigo. Chris is the creator of Charlie Howard, the cool novelist/thief/reluctant hero of The Good Thief's Guide to Amsterdam and its sequel, The Good Thief's Guide to Paris. If you've not experienced Charlie Howard yet, give them a shot - they're fast, entertaining capers, with some deliciously dark and violent moments.

With the first issue of Vertigo almost in the bag, attention is turning to the second issue, and we'll be opening the floodgates for submissions soon. Watch this space.

For now, it's on with the design. Stay tuned for cool news part two and three...

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

Give us all your money...

One of the many dilemmas facing any new small publisher is how to get your name out there and generate submissions, from which you hope to find projects with real potential. It's a catch-22 situation - if you have no reputation to speak of, how can you expect writers to submit their query packages to you; but without those submissions, how are you going to build that reputation?

Many small publishers use competitions to generate submissions. You know the ones - advertised as the XYZ Publishing's Debut Novel Competition, or something similar. They are looking for previously unpublished writers and ask for the first several thousand words or first three chapters, and promise to launch the career of the winning entry. So, writers bundle their packages up, or attach them to emails, and off they go, accompanied by the entry fee.

That's right, entry fee. £10 usually does it, sometimes lower, sometimes higher.

This is where I have a problem. This kind of competition has potential, and we're considering it. But to charge a fee? I understand the so-called reasoning behind it - to cover administration etc. And some publishers might even suggest that charging a reasonable fee will weed out the serious writers from the fair weather scribblers.

I'm not convinced. If you charge a tenner a time, and generate, say, fifty entries, that's five hundred quid in your back pocket. A nice little earner, I guess. But it doesn't sit right with me.
If it is a 'writing competiton', with prizes etc, then entry fees go towards generating, or supplementing, the prize fund. No problem.

But what is this tenner actually for? Reading time? We're publishers. Reading submissions is part of the job. Administration? A few stamps for letters to tell all but one of the writers that they're out of luck? Most entries, I imagine, will come in by email these days.

So I'm still not sure what writers are forking out for. Maybe I'm missing something. Will we opt for such a competition? Very possibly. We'll keep you posted on this blog, and on the website, which, all being well, should be live by early to mid-October.

So, writers - have you entered these competitions run by publishers? Did you hand over any cash? Do you think we should charge an entry fee for a similar competition...? Okay, redundant question, perhaps. But I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.