Photo by Andre Chinn , via Flickr Firsts are exciting. They’re the things you remember forever, right? I was racking my brain, trying to think what I wanted my first post for Blood-Red Pencil to be about. Should I write about my self-publishing experiences? How I’ve been writing since I was 10? The pitfalls I’ve encountered or the tricks that keep me from getting writer’s block? Or should I write about Romance and the beauty of genre fiction? While I was contemplating all this, a first of epic proportions happened. It was a first that could change everything. I knew I had to write about that. Because on Saturday, July 26 th , a novel called Off the Edge by Carolyn Crane became the first self-published novel to win a RITA award. That’s right, a self-published novel just won a major industry award. So why is this important? Why is it important for you? Obviously, when a self-published novel is judged by two rounds of peer readers to be the very best in its sub-genre, it sends ...

This post by Scott Nicholson first published on September 16, 2010. What has changed in publishing since he wrote this? Has it gotten any easier? Please leave us your comments! Self-publishing as an act of artistic independence, political manifesto, or corporate defiance is all well and good, but most writers have the dream of earning money from their work, if not making a career out of it. That’s where it gets scary, no matter which route you take. Industry advances for typical genre books range from $5,000 to $15,000, with more desirable upper-midlist books getting between $20,000 to $50,000. The more you get, the better you do, but after agent cut, income taxes, self-employment taxes, promotional expenses, and health insurance, it’s clearly a struggle even for those edging toward the top. Now imagine how hard it is to make that much without a publisher. Making $2 an e-book on Amazon, you’d have to sell 15,000 a year to even dream about doing it full time, living uninsured in a...

When I was a little girl, we had a pump that periodically lost its prime. My father would have to prime it so water would again flow freely from our faucets. I remember watching him and wondering about the mechanics of that process. Publishing a book bears a strong resemblance to priming that pump. Whether you choose to self-publish, use an indie publisher, go for e-books, or find another route to get your work out, you need to make certain the mechanics of what you do assure that your book will flow seamlessly into the marketplace and find its audience. Doing this guarantees big book sales, right? We all know better than that. What it does guarantee is a finished product that is mechanically and aesthetically pleasing. Our clear, tight content speaks to our intended audience; and our critics cannot find justifiable fault with the grammar, punctuation, presentation, or appearance. What’s next? No matter the genre, the journey we take from idea to first draft to publication follows...

Our guest blogger, Susan Malone, is back again with an interesting take on whether traditional publishing is heading for demise at the hand of e-publishing. I always smile when thinking of trends in publishing. Especially due to the answer all my editor friends in NY give when asked (at virtually every writers’ conference) what the new trends will be:  “I’ll know it when I see it.” But as much of a joking reply as this is, it stands up over time because, well, it’s true. Nobody ever knows what’s going to happen in publishing—until it’s happened. And then when it does, everybody wants a piece of it. Only they want it yesterday, and with a fresh twist. This of course has stymied writers since the days of quill dipping-pens. And now in the age of speed-of-light-changing technology, the new trend in publishing is the industry itself. Of course, everybody is waxing profound these days on what will happen to the business model. Will traditional publishing survive?  Have e-book...

…is fear itself. Franklin Delano Roosevelt uttered those immortal words in his 1933 Inaugural Address. While they then applied to his country in the throes of the Great Depression, they can have numerous other applications, among them to writers who have been intimidated by the iron hand of traditional publishing. Under the wings of that old and revered industry, unknown authors were transformed into household names, and best sellers sprang forth from mediocre works—with the help of competent editors. Then as now, however, these were the exceptions; most hopeful writers who submitted manuscripts received form letters rejecting their work. A privileged few got personalized responses, and a tiny minority went on to be published. Writers pour heart and soul into their work, only to have their hopes crushed by rejection after rejection. The keynote speaker at a seminar I attended a few years ago suggested that we toughen up; he said, "Our books are not our babies." Really? ...

In part one of this post I began a list of reasons to have faith in the publishing industry even though it is suffering from the crucible of change. I pick up here substantiating my use of the word "drivel" with respect of much of what the agents see: • I know a lot of manuscripts are “drivel” because agents tell me so (okay, they used a saucier word). One told me that if you have a great story and a decent command of the English language, and submit a clean manuscript without dog-eared corners, you are already in the top tier (10%) of submissions. As a developmental editor, I see work all the time that is on the low end of the learning curve, yet the author has asked for that "final line edit." Even more than reduced publishing house purchases, this glut of unpolished submissions is the main reason for so many rejections. • Keep in mind that your manuscript is not competing with other submissions for bookshelf space. It is competing against the work of every a...

I stole this title from an e-mail responding to the career travails of a young adult writer I’ll call Natalie (I’ve always loved that name). Natalie’s agent had left the industry because she couldn’t sell a thing. NowNatalie is resubmitting the same query that landed her an agent a couple of years ago, and it is going unanswered. This rattled the e-mail writer, who’d always equated getting an agent with “making it” past the industry gatekeepers. Against a backdrop of technology shifts, bookstore closings, and other manifestations of our unhealthy economy, this felt to her like an industry death knell. Can BRP’s resident optimist still find a positive spin on the situation (see my Ten Affirmations to Bolster Optimism , from 2009)? Of course she can! This is why. • The agent—the one who believed in Natalie—no longer believes in the industry. This makes her, hands down, the wrong agent for Natalie. An agent's job is to sell. By leaving the industry, she has freed Natalie to move o...