Category Archives: Evan Braun

Get on the Train

Train3I have a few different fingers in the publishing pie. I wouldn’t be writing for the Fictorians if I wasn’t a writer, but that’s not the aspect of publishing that dominates my time. I’m also a professional editor, something I don’t often talk about in my Fictorian blog posts. In addition, I am a typesetter. Occasionally I’ve even served as a slush pile reader, though that torturous (and tortuous) experience hasn’t always been a high point.

Recently, while on an afternoon walk through my neighbourhood, I realized that I’m kind of unemployable in the “real world.” I’ve been a full-time, self-employed contract worker since the age of twenty-four, and all of my skills are in publishing. Sure, I could wait tables and wash dishes, but I am pointedly leaving those items off my resume. To say the least, I’m firmly enmeshed in the business of publishing.

This is a pretty surprising career development, at least from the perspective of ten-years-ago me, who didn’t set out a specific goal to get to where I am today.

However, I wouldn’t go so far as to call it accidental. Rather, I started making choices that allowed me to follow my publishing dream, and those choices led to opportunities, and those opportunities, when seized, led to my current reality. In short, I got on the train.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The watershed moment happened in Pasadena, California in the winter of 2010—the first annual Superstars Writing Seminar, which we’ve devoted a lot of digital ink to on this blog. Over the course of the next couple of years, I went from trying really hard to be a writer in a hostile world to being surrounded by writers all the time. The world doesn’t seem so hostile now. The proportion of my Facebook friends who are writers is truly out of control. I used to read my newsfeed for updates from old high school buddies. I can hardly do that anymore, because the newsfeed has gradually been swallowed up by publishing business.

I call it business, because that’s what it is. Every day, my friends are asking for advice, providing advice (because some of my friends are seasoned pros), posting articles from trade magazines and blogs, providing sneak peeks of cover art, hunting for beta readers, and on and on and on. This level of immersion, I think, is crucial in a writer’s life because it marks the point when education becomes continuous—and almost automatic. I live and breathe this stuff.

The first conventions and seminars I went to were all about learning new things. Attending Superstars in Pasadena was an overwhelming experience, because ninety-five percent of what I heard there was totally brand-new information. I came home with over forty pages of notes. The notes were important, but the forty friends I picked up were actually much more helpful, because they got the ball rolling. Instead of cramming years’ worth of learning into one weekend in a convention centre meeting room, I started getting it piecemeal every day of my life.

This last spring, I went back to Superstars for the first time in four years. In 2010, attending Superstars was like attending a computer programmer’s convention without any computing knowledge beyond how to boot up Windows. I could barely follow along half the time; I hung out at the fringes of conversations, snatching up scraps like a hungry dog beneath the family dinner table. I was hopelessly lost. This time, I was the guy talking contract terms, market trends, and business practices. It’s impossible to pinpoint where and when it happened, but I came to speak the language.

The information at Superstars 2013 had changed probably sixty percent from the first year—because that’s how quickly this industry is shifting under our very feet—but I went from forty pages of notes to four. Maybe fewer. It’s not that the information wasn’t timely and valuable, and yet I absorbed very little that I didn’t already know—well, that’s not true; there was plenty that I didn’t know, but I was so well primed for it this time around. The benefit was not all of the advice and new-fangled information. It was having so many of my business friends and contacts in the same place at the same time.

That’s what will happen once you start down this track. You don’t need to have a step-by-step plan for how you’re going to succeed. The industry changes too fast for step-by-step plans to be practical, anyway.

Think of the publishing industry as a train. One day, it motors past your station, so you hop aboard. At first, you don’t know any of your fellow passengers and you don’t have the context to understand their insider conversations. But there are only so many people on this moving train, so unless you hide in your cabin all day and refuse to talk to anyone, it’s only a matter of time before you’re caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily train life.

So just get on the train.

Press Kit Case Study, Part Two

Yesterday, I talked about the print materials that I included with the press kit for the first book in my current series. If you want to make an indelible first impression, that’s only a starting point. I’m now going to take it one step further.

I mentioned that you shouldn’t provide a simple press release in a manila folder. That much should be obvious. But if not in a manila folder, what will you use to contain this grab-bag of awesomeness you have assembled? If it’s just paper, you could get some full-colour customized folders. This gets dicey if you’re going to include a physical copy of your book, which I strongly recommended yesterday. (I still strongly recommend it today!)

My needs set me toward finding a box.

1. The box. Not just any box old box. This will be the first thing your box recipient will see. There are places online where you can design and purchase all kinds of beautiful customs boxes, but unfortunately you may find that some of them break the bank. If I had unlimited resources, I would have gone with something like these. The possibilities are endless. My budget meant I had to rely on my wits. With the help of a close family member, I got my hands on thirty white medium-sized pizza boxes. We delicately refitted them so that they were the perfect size for the book, with room on each side for extra materials, opening and closing with a clasp.

This involved a fair bit of work, because the last thing I wanted was to present my press kit in a box that shouted “Cheapskate!” The end result was highly professional. (If you’re interested in exactly how we refitted pizza boxes to look classy, well, that’s a post for another day; let it simply be said, without explaining the mechanics, that it’s quite possible when done with a skilled hand.)

2. The box label. Don’t make the mistake of addressing your box to “Reviewer,” or something equally anonymous. This is not a form letter. Every news outlet is going to have a person (or a department of persons) responsible for deciding what goes on the air, or on the page. Find out who those people are and address the boxes to them personally. In some cases, it may be advantageous to address your kit directly to on-air talent, specific columnists, or people in the organization with whom you have a personal connection. This helps you to control the success of your press kit, so that it doesn’t languish on the front receptionist’s desk for a few days before being dumped in the trash. Make sure it gets in the right person’s hands. In my case, I printed a graphic on the front of the box which identified the recipient; the graphic I chose matched a graphic from the cover of my book, making sure that both the product itself and the box it came in looked like they belonged together.

3. Personal letter. Another personal touch I included was a short letter introducing the book and my marketing effort to the particular recipient. If I knew something about the box’s recipient, this was the place to take advantage of it. Each letter was slightly different from the next, due to its personalized nature. The contents of the letter was a little bit redundant with the press release, except much more intimately presented (no… not that kind of intimate). The letter was printed on a small narrow band of distressed paper, rolled up in a scroll, and tied with a short length of twine. Each was signed by hand. This was designed to be the first item of the kit which was handled by the recipient. It was the figurative opening handshake.

4. An invitation. I included an invitation to my launch, inside a hand-addressed envelope. These invitations were provided to me by the bookstore where my launch was held, saving me a bit of effort. The bookstore’s logo (a major retailer in my city) lent a further air of professionalism and credibility.

5. Goodies. We’re getting to the end now. I wanted to include a couple of extra trinkets, but I didn’t have much time or money. Ideally, your goodies should be a specific complement to your book. I didn’t have quite enough time to prepare something as cool and intricate as I would’ve liked, so I settled for customized pens and notepads. I designed and ordered these through a local printing company, and I got an excellent deal. The pen and notepad contained my book title, my series title, and my official website. I distributed these pens far and wide, and every once in a while I still see them out in the world when I go to the bank or visit a local restaurant. I also used these pens at my signing; for each book I signed, I used a unique pen, and then gave away the pen to the person buying the book.

Finally, a note about packaging: if you go this route, of preparing and filling a box, make sure it packs tightly. The last thing you want is for the contents of the box to be messy when it’s opened by its intended recipient. Pack it in such a way that it can be turned on its side and flipped around a few times without disturbing what’s inside.

I sent my finished kit to radio stations, newspapers, magazines, bloggers, libraries, and a few prominent local authors who I hoped might lend some support. The final result is that I received responses from just less than half of the people I sent it out to. Considering that I was a first-time author with virtually no platform or publishing history, I believe that was a really big success. I’m hoping that by repeating this effort, my response will improve with every release.

I hope my experience and advice has been helpful. All the best in preparing your own press kits, and if you have questions, leave them in the comments!

Press Kit Case Study, Part One

Marketing doesn’t come easily or naturally to me. It surprises me that there are any writers out there who enjoy hawking their books. I accept that it must be true; I just can’t in any way, shape, or form relate to such people. I just want to write. I want to finish a book, then immediately start the next with nary a further thought.

Sadly, this is not the way the world works—especially not for indie writers, who can’t depend on publishers to get the word out. The truth is that even traditionally published authors can’t depend on their publishers these days, unless they happen to be so utterly famous that they hardly need the big push.

A year and a half ago, I released the first novel in my ongoing series (Amazon, Kobo), and was faced with the conundrum of what kind of marketing efforts to undertake. I planned a book launch (which was extremely successful), made various appearances, did a signing or two, and in general did everything I could to connect with readers. But I was faced with the dilemma of having to market not just the book, but the launch. I had to get people’s attention, and the most obvious way of doing that is going through the media.

Fortunately, I have a communications degree in which I studied journalism, advertising, and public relations. (And yet I hate most of those things, go figure.) I knew I had to assemble a press kit that contained more than a standard press release stuffed in a manila folder. I had to turn it into an event.

Today, I’m going to begin by writing about the press kit’s printed materials. I included glossy prints of the following (all with full-color letterheads and photos, which were color-coordinated to match the book’s cover):

1. The press release. This is obvious, but crucially important. Like most written forms, there is a stylistic expectation that comes with a press release, so conduct some research on what a press release looks like. It’s the only way to ensure that you come off professionally. Most media outlets receive dozens of press releases a day, however, so a slavish submission to form can be counterintuitive. There are ways to thread the needle between meeting expectations and raising eyebrows. (If I could tell you how to accomplish this for your unique project, it wouldn’t be unique.) I also signed each release by hand—a personal touch to signal that this wasn’t a form letter. This was just one of many personal touches, which I will go into a bit later.

2. Book information. On a separate sheet, I included the back cover copy, along with the ISBN number, the page size, the page length, and the release date.

3. Author bio. This page included a high-res, professionally-taken headshot. It’s impossible to stress how important it is to get a professional to take the picture. My photographer even went to the trouble of digitally removing some skin blemishes and whitening my teeth. The author bio should be pretty self-explanatory, and again I strove to find a balance between professionalism and light-heartedness. I explained my career, my background, and my interests; combined, these served to provide some qualifications for the kind of book I’d set out to write.

4. Interview questions. The goal of a press kit is to get… you know, press. But your local radio personality, newspaper columnist, or blogger may not have the time to read your 400-page book on a week’s notice to get the word out about your launch. The people writing articles about you, or conducting in-person interviews, will likely not have read your book. That’s just how it is. They won’t want to sound ignorant, so either they will (a) not bother giving you coverage at all, or (b) need some help deciding what kind of coverage to provide. You can give them that help. Provide some interview questions, a starting point from which you can address the FAQs of your book. Also include your answers, of course! I included eight questions—and yes, some of them were used. This practice also provides some comfort to you, in advance of a media interview, to know some of the questions you will be asked. Finally, don’t forget to include (both here and in several places elsewhere in the press kit), clear contact information for scheduling interviews.

5. Character sketches. The above are all expected parts of the press kit, but I wanted to include a few extra touches. I included a page of character sketches in which I teased each of the book’s three main characters and their roles in the story.

6. Further extras. It doesn’t hurt to go still further above and beyond. In the case of my first book, I had started a blog just prior to the release of the book. The blog was written from the point of view of one of the main characters. I provided information about this blog, explained its purpose and content, then included the first two entries as written samples. I ended up getting a request from a major news outlet to reprint these samples on their website, which I was only too happy to oblige, as they provided excellent teases.

And, oh yeah, in case it wasn’t already obvious:

7. Give them a free, promotional copy of the book. Not every indie author has an in-print paperback version of their book to give away, but don’t be stingy if you have them. Probably the biggest advantage of having a physical book, for marketing purposes, is that it provides you with the perfect billboard of your book. The book itself is the poster. Don’t ask a media outlet to review your book or give you coverage without actually giving them a copy. Thus, the first thing someone will see when they open your press kit is the book itself, its glossy cover staring up at them in all its glory.

There’s a lot more to this press kit business, and so far I’ve only explained the initial printed materials. This only accounts for half the kit’s contents. Come back tomorrow to read about what other goodies I included.

It Doesn’t Happen in a Straight Line

 

Not a straight line.
Not a straight line.

Progress rarely happens in a straight line. It isn’t steady. It isn’t stable. Rather, it happens in fits and starts. When you’re trying to lose weight, you plateau for long periods of time. Sometimes it’s hard to understand why those plateaus happen; if you’re doing the same thing that helped drop you from 220 pounds to 200, shouldn’t the same strategy drop you from 200 to 180? The answer is no. And the reason? It’s complicated.

Technology works the same way. For the longest time—thousands and thousands of years—humanity’s technological level remained static. Then came the renaissance! Followed by more static. Then came the industrial revolution, and in the blink of an eye we’re planning manned missions to Mars and walking around with internet-connected sunglasses controlled by rapid eye movement. Or something. I’m really not clear on the details.

Similar arguments could be made for any kind of long-term change—civil rights, human evolution, writing careers… Wait, go back. Writing careers? Well, this one should be obvious. You start writing those first words, full of excitement and promise, and then you hit your very first murky middle. Or maybe you make it past the middle but can’t stick the landing. Maybe you finish your first book easily, and maybe your second, too. No matter how long your roll lasts, I promise you this: it won’t last forever. You will plateau. And not just once, but many times. When these come along, they can be incredibly stifling. If you give in, you may never recover. You gotta show some tenacity.

The most successful people in any field or occupation are those who get to plateaus, realize they’re on a plateau, scope out ways to move on, and then take the next step. I realize how glib that sounds, but it’s basically the truth.

Instead of talking in abstractions, let me tell you about my plateaus. I’ve faced a couple of big ones.

In 1988, I decided I wanted to be a writer, so I began to write short stories. A lot of reputable genre writers recommend starting with short stories, so I was in good company right from the start. Still, I don’t think they meant these short stories; I was five years old, and they contained by own not-quite-in-the-lines crayon illustrations. My most successful literary achievement of this period was my breakout hit, Darryl Gets His Glasses. For the record, Darryl was a giant orange dinosaur of unknown genus. This was a real tour de force; those second-grade girls were weeping in the corners when I read it aloud following afternoon recess.

But those stories only took me so far. Sure, I had my fans, but my career was beginning to stagnate. I wrote and wrote and read and read, and you know what? I noticed that the biggest names in publishing weren’t getting famous off handwritten stories in primary school notebooks. After some serious soul-searching, I decided to take a bold step into the brave new world of fan fiction.

These were heady years, when words didn’t have to be good; they just had to exist. (Which was fantastic practice, by the way.) My fan fic quickly took the form of full-length novels. I wrote a couple of them, two in two years… and then rested on my laurels. I had done it! I was a writer. Welcome to Plateau #2.

By 1995, I was certain of one thing: my books were certainly as good as their professionally published counterparts (they weren’t). This false confidence led me to take the next step: investigate how to submit my fledgling literary Picassos to the big leagues. This was a critical step in mine and any writer’s development, and from it I learned I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. Oh yes, I was slapped down good and hard. It turned out my friends and family had lied to me about my wunderkind status, those sons of bitches. It turned out there were actual skills to pick up beyond just writing down whatever came to my head in the moment. Plateau #3.

I took better English courses, I read how-to-write books, I broadened my reading selections. When high school concluded, I went for a communications degree. This made me much better and I started to convince myself again that a writing career was possible.

And yet this was the longest and most tangled plateau of all. It was almost seven years between my last high school offerings and my first serious foray back into novel-writing. I got a lot of education, sure, but that didn’t seem to be enough. Indeed, I was trying to get ahead by following the same strategies as before—and those strategies were no longer as effective as they had once been.

The way forward this time was in meeting other writers, becoming part of a community of like-minded individuals, partnering with other people who shared my goals and aspirations. I found those at conventions and seminars. People and support structures, rather than skill alone, showed me how to get to the next level. That process started in 2010 and inspired me to get back down to business. I’ve written a half-dozen novels since then.

But you can never climb for long before reaching another plateau, as I have learned. Allow me to let you in on a little secret: I’m actually on a plateau again right now. My novels have gotten better, my support structures are stronger than ever, but I’m still not raking in the big bucks. Where are the shiny contracts? Where are my stacks of hardcover new releases?

Well, I’m working on that. Stay tuned!