So at yesterday’s Grand Celebration of our group’s 2015 Inkslinger’s anthology, I sold $25 worth of books! The sole print version of the first Fire-Rider collection, the sole print version of the whole Family at the Holidays series, and a copy of Slave Labor.
All of these were purchased by one guy, who seemed a little eccentric. When I remarked that reviews of the books would really be appreciated, he said, “Well, fourteen others are ahead of you.”
Yeah. Thanks, pal. Oh well.
While it’s cheering that someone would buy these things, even a guy who goes around buying self-published books just to make amateur writers feel good, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not making any money here.
Figure the time for just taking the things to the “market”: The event took place at a country club in Goodyear. It’s an hour’s drive one way; over two hours round trip. Then I sat around there for two hours. Twenty-five dollars divided by four hours comes to $6.25 an hour.
Somewhat under minimum wage.
When we factor in the uncountable number of hours entailed in writing, editing, formatting, and uploading the things to Amazon and the printer’s site, we’re in Negative-Number Neverland. Way, way in the Outback…
I was surprised the guy bought the copy of Fire-Rider, since Snowfall Press screwed up the trimming so badly that it really wasn’t salable.
Snowfall, as it develops, has a policy of not printing erotica. When they saw the contents of Family, they printed off a proof because I’d paid for it but had their guy call me and announce they wouldn’t print any more than that. Okay…you have a right to censor what other people write and publish — probably you’re the same sort of folks who think gay couples shouldn’t be allowed to buy wedding cakes at bakeries serving the public, too. So I was polite to the guy and he sounded relieved that I didn’t tell him what he deserved to be told.
However, in their Righteousness, they screwed up the printing of the other two books I’d sent over to prepare for this event: two copies of Slave Labor and a proof of Fire-Rider. They slopped the Slave Labor cover over so the spine wraps around to the front, and they trimmed the Fire-Rider book so badly that the back cover looks crooked, the 300+ pages are out of true, and the interior pages have about a two-inch gutter! It looks terrible.
So now that thing has to be reformatted for the new PoD vendor. I just checked the specs on the thing, thinking maybe I entered the wrong figures for the margins and gutter. But no: they’re exactly what they’re supposed to be.
That makes it very hard to believe anything other than that Snowfall deliberately screwed up those two books because they didn’t like the third one.
Mighty Christian of them, eh?
Anyway, all this causes one to wonder if the publishing endeavor is worth the effort. Unless we can get someone to buy these things and see some results by about the end of March, I think it will be time to sign back up for some more freshman comp courses. We’re running so far in the red now that the S-corp will be out of money by the end of first-quarter 2016.
Next week I’ll hire a marketing specialist to create and manage a Facebook Ads campaign for Fire-Rider. For the Racy Books, which can’t be advertised on FB, I’m advertising on this entertaining site and also probably will consign to a distributor that targets romance readers. Both sites go direct to readers who enjoy these specific types of books.
Then I’ll have to reformat Fire-Rider for the new printer, format the second “boxed set,” and get Gary to create a cover for the Family boxed set, which will entail creating an ebook cover based on the print cover I made for that thing.
Those tasks alone will entail hours and hours and hours of work — more than enough to fill up a week. So we’re looking at more 14-hour days, of which I grow mightily weary.
Hm. My roommate is about out of the shower. We have to run around to get to church this morning — she has to be at the early service, too, so presumably will fly out the door in about 15 minutes. Mercifully, I don’t have to sing until 10 a.m.
And so, to breakfast…