Tag Archives: Books

Celebrating zero

Zero salesI’m celebrating zero this week. I’ve just finished the process of publishing my first ebook (Trojan Moments: Experiences that Ambush). It has zero sales (sounds like a weird thing to celebrate, but I will explain) and zero costs (obvious win there). It’s a poetry collection, so there was never much expectation that it would be big, but celebrating zero? Come on, that’s pathetic.

Why I’m celebrating zero sales

Like a lot of people, I procrastinate, I get depressed, I work a day job. Life happens, and the months and years really roll by. Sometimes I doubt my creativity and I don’t always finish my projects. I’ve been wanting to get this book out in this format since 25 May 2006.

Yeah, you read right, more than ten years. It was first published that Thursday in paperback (a whole other story). In the decade since then I’ve fought a lot of demons and ghosts, but the desire to finish that job wouldn’t die. So yes, I’m embarrassed that it took twelve years, five months, and five days to put a tick in the box but here’s the thing, I did do it. You only get a sales dashboard when you have something to sell, something finished and listed, ready to download.

That’s what that big chunky zero means to me – success. A milestone that haunted and mocked me for over a decade is finally tamed. It sounds so easy, it is such a short sentence ‘publish an ebook’. Three little words, and I’d already written the book!

What it takes to get to zero

You might be curious about what it takes to fulfil that three-word task. Here are some of the tasks it involved:

  • Edit and revise the existing text
  • Create new content (reading group material and a quirky summary of the inspiration)
  • Reformat the revised text in MS Word and then in Scrivener and then in Word and then in Scrivener until I finally had it right
  • Redo the cover, make new covers, test out covers, get contradictory feedback, nearly toss the whole thing out because the cover issue was so painful, remembered this is a hobby and meant to be fun, went back to the original design and moved on with my life.
  • Research the current ebook market and decide on a marketing strategy for the book (quite a similar emotional process to that outlined for the cover)
  • With the strategy “nailed down” (ha!) I researched options for publishing, including evaluating the costs, time and services available and if it would be possible for me to DIY (and how long that might take me)
  • Because I decided to “go wide” (ie publish on more than Kindle Select) I chose an aggregator that would take a single file and publish it to multiple platforms on my behalf. They take a cut of my royalties for this.

*whew*

The file formatted, I went ahead and clicked on that little grey ‘submit’ button. And … nothing happened. Two days later I got an email saying the file was rejected. I fixed that one metadata field and reloaded, resubmit. This time, happy little green notifications started popping up within an hour and it was underway. It took a full week to appear on Amazon (and with the wrong price!) but finally, after years and a learning curve like The Wall, I was here, celebrating zero. Happy dance ensued.

A zero full of potential

Celebrating that zero makes perfect sense when you know a bit of the story to getting there. It is a private pleasure. To the rest of the world it is “so what?” but to any indie published author that first book is a stack of achievements and the zero symbolises accomplishment and a transition into the next level.

Just as with the zero card in tarot (usually The Fool) it heralds the inception of a new beginning. With this act of stepping off my known path and into the unknown future there is potential for the rest of my dreams to begin to come to life too. The nature of the moment is ephemeral. In another week or month that zero may begin to feel like a judgement. One hopes it doesn’t outstay it’s welcome. All it will take to turn that zero into profit (the other key success measure in sales) is just one sale.

When zero turns to one

Everything changes when you can say “Yes I have made money selling my books.” I did that in 2006, hand-selling a poetry book (bless every one of you and thank you) and I will do it again this year.

Want to know my secret? Realistic expectations and zero costs.

Poetry is not hugely popular (unless you’re lovelorn on Instagram) and up until recently few people would admit to it at all. Honestly, you’d think it was the ninth deadly vice or something, but I digress. Realistically, I knew it would be hard to sell copies.

I knew that I couldn’t count on high (or possibly even double-digit) sales in the first three months. But I did want this publication to break even quickly so it could hold it’s head high on my (eventual) backlist. Knowing that made it easy for me to select an approach and services that would keep my costs down.

In the end it cost me nothing to publish the ebook internationally (Here are my costs – pdf ). I’ve listed it at $0.99 and at that price I need to make one sale to make a profit. One sale. Sure, the profit is as low as 29c but hey, the numbers don’t lie and that is cold hard digits into my PayPal account (90 days later). Boom.

Not everyone can love a zero

It takes an author to be excited at the prospect of making 29c but that’s how this game plays for little fish like me. There are shoals of sharks ready to tear thousands of dollars out of you if you don’t know how to navigate these waters. You may not believe it, but publishing is a ruthless industry. It isn’t all cups of tea, overdue library notices and polite book clubs. I hope you’ve enjoyed this foray into some of what it took to publish this book and can join me in celebrating zero.

Why not splash out and buy a copy? Trojan Moments is on sale at the celebratory price of 99c in your favourite ebook store during October 2018.  But you know, totally cool if you’re not into it.

Trojan Moments poetry ebook launch

October launch of Trojan Moments - special deal subscribe before 10 October for a free copy or purchse for only $1 in October.Today my first book of poetry Trojan Moments starts popping up in ebook stores. This is a huge milestone for me and to celebrate I’m making the ebook free for ten days. Yes. You read that right. Don’t need to know any more? Jump to the bottom of the post and subscribe – you’re welcome.

Ebook launch -WOOT!

As far as launches go, this is very low-key, low-budget and low profile. Above all the launch is a celebration about sharing this book. Writers want nothing more than readers (and reviews)! I am giving Trojan Moments away for free for the first ten days of October. Just sign-up for my newsletter (at the bottom of this post) and – whoosh – the interwebs delivers you your own copy. Of course I’d be delighted if you decided to buy a copy – on sale for $1 during all of October 2018 (in November it will revert to the normal price of $4.99). That’s all I’ve got. No wine and cheese (sorry) and no promotional bookmarks. Just the book. Out. Shipped.

Why the what?
(Warning: old person type reminiscence) We live in an amazing age. In another decade, when I first published this book (2006), I had to pay for boxes of physical copies (some of them are still under my desk as I write this). I did hold a launch (with wine and cheese! With promotional bookmarks!) and while it was an exciting day, today feels a bit bigger because my little book is available for sale in the biggest stores in the world, not just in those three physical stores in Sydney (bless them). Plus, I will not stub my toe on unsold copies *ever*again*. That’s something to celebrate too!

Trojan Moments: Experiences that Ambush (poetry)

Poetry is experiencing a renaissance at the moment. “And about time.” Thanks partly to the ubiquity of ebooks, the explosion of smartphones and somehow, Instagram. Huh? Whatever the reason, it must be good for the world* to have more people reading and enjoying poetry. It has been good for me too, to read and enjoy the poetry proliferating. I love it. There’s a freedom to it. Just the inspiration I needed to, to revisit Trojan Moments and put some love into my own contribution.
* Biased opinion, obvs.

From the preface

Right up it’s important to say that these poems aren’t about Troy. It’s just that “Troy” marinated me through to my heart and soaked out of my eyes. It is a monumental story, one shifting from history into myth. Troy. Troy, the most powerful city, secure through a ten year siege.

So these poems are about life. They’re about living along feeling secure or confident and being sideswiped by a terrible or brilliant realisation. It is when those fleeting sensations of clarity force cracks into the walls and suddenly it’s clear that all has changed. Cling all you like to the past, it leaves without you. Those times when love (or lust) sneak up and interrupts a meeting, when joy wanders into an afternoon walk, when the need to tell the truth breaks into a safe agreement… all these ambushes are the core of being alive.

Sitting at the wall

When I went on the trip to Turkey in 2000 (where I took the photo used for the cover) I remember sitting with my back leaning on an old olive tree, wondering what life might have been like for the people who lived there all that time ago. Imagine, the water of the Mediterranean (middle of the earth) lapping close by and while none of the technologies would be the same, heartbreak and hope would be very familiar. The tiredness after a long day, the lure of the horizon, the thrumming of passion all those emotions and more, we share. It was deeply inspiring.

Free launch copy

That’s just part of what went into this book. It was a long time brewing, but now it is ready to share and enjoy. Please get a copy with my compliments during this happy time by simply signing up to my newsletter (by 10 October 2018). The form is just below for you.

So thank you for being part of my journey, and by reading, including me in yours. And if you’ve already read the book and liked it, firstly, you’re a legend and secondly, I’d be really chuffed if you went to your favourite online bookstore and gave it a review. Cheers!

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Gandhi’s storage unit

Recently I came across a picture of the personal items of Mahatma Gandhi that were auctioned in 2009. Many people enjoy the secretive delight of peeping into other people’s lives and handbags, particularly famous and powerful people and Gandhi was both. I wondered what the historians found when they looked into his storage unit.

Gandhi's personal belongings

He was an incredibly active and influential leader in Indian politics from 1915 through to the eventual political emancipation of India in the late 1940s. During this turbulent time his leadership was to earn him the endearment of Bapu (Papa). What does a man of this stature, of this importance own? What iconic luxury items might he flaunt to demonstrate his power? What valuable investments would he hold and what unique mementoes and gifts from a grateful population does he display? In short, what can we learn about modern living from Gandhi’s storage unit?

He’d had a long and successful career in law, travelled the world, met with many famous people. He was a well published writer, a political activist and leader, a family man and a philosopher. He was assassinated in 1948 at the age of 78. This was someone still in his peak, still active and publicly involved in the world, not in a hermitage or in any way winding down his life. Should be quite the haul of cool and amazing things!

Live simply so others may simply live

Famously, he owned very few things. The selection in the picture represents nearly half of his worldly stuff upon his death. No need for a storage unit. In fact he nearly wouldn’t have even needed a bag, most of his belongings were his daily wear. That’s his eating bowl there. He owned one book and a little statue (of the Three Monkeys) and actually, that was pretty much it. He replaced those sandals as they wore out, he had the one outfit. It is radically stark. There’s a wallet and reading glasses and a watch, that much most people have on their bedside table.

But then, nothing else. It is confronting.

Not just the lack of books (libraries were a real option in the 20th century) not just the lack of photos (he and his family were already being publicly documented) there’s nothing that to a modern eye says ‘this is who I am”. No music, no brands, no toys or other discernable displays. No sporting goods or dvds or miniature Eiffel Towers. But of course we know very well what type of man he was, what his beliefs were, how powerful his integrity and focus was. I don’t know if he was deliberately proving a point about stuff, but it sure feels like it.

What might our lives be like if we embraced only those things that were necessary to what we do, how we live our purpose in the world? His may be an extreme example – but what if it isn’t? What if we acknowledged how useful it is to share resources for the  many (libraries and kitchens and laundries) and keep our personal items humble? Humble stuff in life obviously does not have to mean humble impact.

Let Gandhi have an impact on you, especially if you’ve ever felt frustrated or smothered by your belongings or debt. He lived in a modern, complex world and he did it meaningfully and successfully without a collection of boxed vinyl figurines from a tv series or even sunglasses. There are seven billion people in the world, and there’s not enough room for us all to have a storage unit.

Desire’s dark side

Lustful affairs bring consequences. The lovechild of the compulsion to consume is the unwanted bastard offspring Debt.

Oh Debt. We are not shy about conceiving you.

Australians lead the world with an average household debt (which includes mortgages) footprint of 1.8 – this means that people are spending nearly twice what they earn. All of their income and 80% of a whole ‘nother wage. Staggering. (ref ABS Data May 2014 )  No really.

‘Yeah’ you say ‘but that’s including houses and everybody knows that the Australian housing market is overvalued. That’s why I rent!’ Ok fine.
Australians owe billions on credit cards, about $4 400 per person.

Just for fun, this clock (ASIC Moneysmart ) shows how much Australians currently owe on the plastic. Your factoid for today is that 49% of those who carry $5,000 or more in credit card debt have a degree or a diploma. Oh wait, last one! Two in five people have no idea what interest rate they are paying on their card (and that was in March 2013! ).

Charles Dickens quote from David Copperfield

Much as those figures stimulate the curiosity and sound all newsy they actually distract from the human story that sits behind them. It is all too easy to evaluate yourself immediately against those figures so you can dismiss them. Relief – ‘mine’s lower!’ Or to judge – ‘how could they let it get to that?!’ I chose to include them because they’re real. Most Australians of age have one or more credit cards. They owe money on them that potentially they will never ever actually pay out. Or like dieters who know better, they yo-yo in and out of debt on the cards in tides of recrimination and stoic, forced budgets.

None of us is alone with our debt baby. We live in culture where it is normal to carry debt. That’s what we call it, not ‘tortured by’ or ‘enslaved by’ an endless burden. No, we just casually ‘carry’ it. We consider it part of the ‘cost of living’. Everyone does it. Those who do not have a credit card have an uneasy aura of either a do-gooder or a bankrupt (depending a bit on the tone of voice used to convey the information) but are a bit creepy either way. Not someone you’re going to listen to anyway.

Would you listen to yourself though? If your future self could tunnel through the time vortex and whisper in your ear, what would they say to you about how you left them holding the crying, hungry baby? Can the future you remember the emergency purchase or convenience of takeaway dinner or the money you saved by buying on sale with credit? Did you ever fall in love with a book that you simply must have only to get it home and put it on top of the pile of other books you haven’t yet read? I did. Many times.

When ANZ handed my debt over to a hard-nosed collection agency and I had to own up to my past indiscretions there was no way I could remember a single thing that had been so important it had to be bought with that card. My past self had blithely given me a big stinking problem to deal with and I hated her for it. If that’s not a perfect example of provisional living going bad, I don’t know what is. I don’t know that I would have listened to future me though, if I had tried to deny those lustful urges. In the end, it was an affair that took me years to recover from.

Why do we assume that our future selves will somehow have more resources, more ability to deal with the consequences of our actions? Because we’ve inadvertently subscribed to the doctrine of progress. We do it in our personal lives, we do it in our communities when we build houses on every next block of land, leaving no space for anything else. We do it as a nation when we use every bit of energy we can grab because ‘they will figure out a new technology soon and we’ll all have limitless lives and won’t have to work’ or something that sounds like winning the ‘infinite planet lotto’. Not going to happen. Addictive and easy, sure, but not real.

The reality is that it is impossible to be free when we are in the thrall of endless compound interest on debt. In the next quiet moment you have to yourself, ask your future self what it is that you both want most out of life.

It is not going to be more debt.

Kiss your loved ones and plan a different way forward. We’ve got a lot ahead of us.

Can’t find the stories for the books

Too much of a good thing?

Too much of a good thing?

Writing has stalled.
Bogged.
Lost in the wilderness.

The discipline is there, time in the saddle, words down each day but the fire in the line is missing. How to fix?

I got up from my desk, very slowly and very carefully so as not to disturb the references on my right, the notes and journals on the left, the correspondence behind me, the ideas and clippings behind me to the left, the recently read and waiting for review, the to-read, the not-sure pile and then finally the dog who had curled up on the stepping space. They used to be a path to the door but it had shrunk when I cleared some of the books out of the kitchen. The stovetop and the bathroom were the only places in the three bedroom house free of book piles due only to the unrelenting truth that fire and water remain the mortal enemies of paper.

I made a cuppa and sat on the back stairs as the couch was covered in magazines and papers and the dining table was hosting a long-term craft convention, complete with comparative pattern books and technique tomes. The dog sat in the sun in the yard and looked at me. I sipped and thought. Perhaps sometimes too much of a good thing is simply too much.
“Something has to go.” I said to the dog.
“Better not be me.” he replied and wandered off to sniff at some grass and see if the crows had dropped anything interesting from their headquarters.

I sipped on, realising that my bibliophilia had reached an unexpected crisis point. My hoards of books were suffocating the stories trying to come to life. It wasn’t just books stashed and crammed into the house until there was no room left for my heart to break but they were the most symbolic, they would be the hardest to release. Each one was a promise, a kiss, a call, and a friend. I believed in some deep and sad way that I would be irrevocably diminished in some ineffable but vital way without every single one of them and yet something really had to give and it had better not be me.