To Self-Publish Or Not To Self-Publish? That Is The Sleep Depriving Question #WeekendCoffeeShare

About five years ago I self-published a collection of poetry through lulu.

I made exactly nothing despite apparently selling at least one book through amazon (according to the less that encouraging review posted), and in the end I retired the project.

The experience taught me a number of important things.

IMG_3498[3861]

  1. Lulu is not the way to go if you want to sell a physical book on Amazon and make any margin.
  2. I am not a good enough editor. I need to outsource this element to avoid the number of typos and mistakes that were in the last book.
  3. Reading poems you wrote five or more years ago can be a painful experience. Especially when you realise the bad review hit the nail directly on the head.

So why am I about to give self-publishing another shot?

Well clearly I’m a glutton for punishment.

When I published ‘Before The Words Run Out’ there were thirty-two poems, a series of haiku, and some pieces of flash fiction (all of which can be found somewhere in the depths of this blog). For ‘It’s All In The Blood’ I wanted to create a collection of just poems, and ensure that the majority of them were not poems I’d already published to Writing and Works. Some have appeared elsewhere, such as on Ink Sweat and Tears, but for the most part the collection will be new pieces with a few favourites from the site sprinkled in.

The unfinished draft is sitting at forty-seven poems (it was forty-eight but I axed a poem which I didn’t feel was good enough). I was aiming to cut the collection off at fifty poems (because I like round numbers) but the final number is likely to be higher now as my recent dive back into the local poetry communities means I’m writing a lot of stuff and I’m actually really happy with most of the work I’m producing.

I am editing as I’m writing. As this is not a novel, I’m free to go back and amend, rewrite, obliterate poems as I see fit without changing the entire plot or flow of the book. This back and forth between writing and editing also means that I don’t get snow blind with my poems. It’s very easy to write something, go over it straight away and be like ‘Yeah, that’s good enough’.

No. No it is not.

I’ve got a couple of friends who are helping me with the next round of editing. Both are writers themselves, one of which has done some work in editing. Both are brutally honest and of the opinion that if they don’t say it someone else will, so it’s better coming from them.

There is a small part of me who wants to find the guy who gave me the bad review on my last collection and show him the new one. I want the chance for him to say ‘you’ve improved, well done’. (But that would be bowing to my need for approval and I’m trying very hard to shake that particular dog-turd off my shoe.)

I have been considering traditional publishing but quite honestly, I feel like I need to prove to myself that I can conquer self-publishing. This is unlikely to be my last poetry collection, I’m only twenty-five and it’s not even my first attempt. Even if this bites the dust then I will still come away with more experience that if I’d not tried at all.

IMG_1745The aim is to have the collection finished and ready to publish by autumn. (I will not specify when in autumn because ‘wiggle-room’). The title has been picked, I’m making tentative enquiries about possible cover designs with arty friends, and I’ve settled on using the Amazon self-publishing platform to produce and sell the book. It almost looks like I have a book and a plan. Almost.

A little further down the line (i.e when the book is done) I’ll be looking to do some sort of book blog tour but that is only a very small flicker on the enormous fairy-light display in my brain at the moment. For the most part I am focused on the writing and the torture that is rewrites.

In the meantime feel free to bombard me with any of your own experiences self-publishing, traditionally publishing, or just poetry writing in general. How do you balance writing poetry for a blog v poetry for a collection/competitions. Let me know in the comments below.

wordswag_15073188796611453091488

Mired In Translation – #WeekendWritingPrompt

In some cases, the letter won’t translate.

Specified language is always a little tricky,

not like asking

for directions to the swimming pool,

or how much for the loaf of bread

behind the counter.

 

You craft an art-form of assumptions.

Cut loose the odd words,

ones which clearly don’t fit

in the rigid confines of business,

ones surely not meant.

Leave a framework of mundane.

 

Puzzle a meaning from the scraps,

a rhythm for the found poem

butchered out of miscommunication.

 

Send a response in English,

cringe a little for the recipient,

know they will likely do as you

and turn to an app,

a browser tab,

punch in the words,

frown at the nonsense.

wk-111-translation

 

 

 

 

Without Roots We Rot – #DVersePoets

You spend so much time

picking petals.

 

Pretending enough

will make a flower

of your own.

 

If you’d spent as long

studying the structure,

stem, stamen, stigma,

you might have seen.

 

Seeds.

 

Instead of stolen petals

you could have grown

a garden.

 

Not as easy maybe,

but more beautiful

than you know.

flowering-mindscape

Flowering Mindscape- J.Hurlbert

Tonight, the bartender at DVersePoets has thrown us some beautiful pieces of artwork to inspire poems. I highly recommend checking the rest of the piece out as they are all incredibly thought provoking.

dverselogo

In Time – #WeekendWritingPrompt

For a millennium you were glacial.

Slid oh so slow

through dirt, and stone,

turned mountains into valley paths,

cracked plains, made them seas.

 

We watched the snow fall,

smother you until we forgot,

blinked stunned

when the sun shucked your coat

and the light made you shine.

 

Change creeps closer in millimetres,

presses the before away carefully,

slips itself into spaces

that hastiness would break.

wk-110-glacial

Word Of The Day Challenge: Shine

Wrung Out

Today is a tumble dryer day,

where I fall from the drum

crumpled, creased, confused,

humming with static,

limbs limp with heat,

and one sharp shock

from folding altogether.


 

I have finally decided on a name for the collection of poems that I’m planning on publishing at the end of this year.

All In The Blood.

I’ve written so much about myself and my family that it seemed like an apt name. Now all I need to do is finalise the poems, the order, the cover art, and the publication date.