If You'd Entered NaNoWriMo You'd Have Written a Novel By Now

 

Along with silly (but charitable) moustaches, November has become synonymous with locking yourself away in a garret with a typewriter, where you will subsist on coffee, cigarettes and whisky while clutching at your hair and possibly developing repetitve strain injury. Why? It's National Novel Writing Month!

This little internet project (known as NaNoWriMo) began in 1999 with 21 members; this year  over 300,000 people took part. (That's a helluva lot of novels.)

The idea is that you commit to writing 50,000 words in 30 days (about 1667 words per day). I've heard many professional writers say they aim for 1000 words a day, which has always seemed a laughably puny amount – what do they do with the other 23 hours? (Actually, I can't scoff – I'm writing a piece for Den of Geek and it only needs to be about 7500 words, but it's taking forever to finish. Writing's the easy bit; editing is the killer.)

So why do so many writers hate NaNoWriMo? 

Firstly, they don't like amateurs encroaching on their turf. They complain that NaNoWriMo encourages non-writers to think that churning out a book is simple; a matter of speedily filling pages rather than thoughtfully refining style, plotting and pacing. Some rather pretentiously wail that it "cheapens the art" of writing. That participants "like the idea" of being a novelist but have no idea of the blood, sweat and tears that goes into producing a readable book. And if they really cared about writing (like we do!) they would do it anyway, without a special month and a bunch of cheerleaders to help them out. (How dare they make it a group activity, when they should be toiling in solitude and misery, as nature intended!)

Of course, the main issue raised is that valuing quantity over quality and forcing yourself to write will only produce crap – a kind of "mental diarrhea" as one blogger charmingly put it. Those people who do finish with 50K words (or, as the cool kids like to say, those who "Win NaNoWriMo") have simply completed a tough assault course for the sake of their egos, will probably never write anything again, and have nothing to show for hitting that word count except a pile of bilge.

Ok, so maybe once in a while a decent novel is produced (Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus and Sara Gruen's now Hollywoodised Water for Elephants began life as NaNoWriMo projects) but it's just a "monkeys with typewriters" experiment – throw enough shit against the wall and some of it is bound to stick. 

And the parting shot: 50k words doesn't even make a novel – only a novella. So nyah nyah, stupid wannabe writers, joke's on you! 

                                 Asking a forum what your villain's motivation should be...

And cheapening the craft for all of us.

It's all a bit mean, isn't it? 

It may be a hothouse environment rather than a sensitively artistic one, but NaNoWriMo has plenty of good points. Lots of creative people have ideas floating through their heads on a permanent basis, but day jobs, TV and life itself get in the way of actually committing them to paper. What's wrong with a little push to get them motivated? In fact, what's wrong with people writing, generally? David Beckham doesn't resent guys having a kickabout in the park. Picasso never said that children's finger-painting debased his work. So why do writers get all sniffy about amateurs who enjoy tapping out a story? If anything, taking part in NaNoWriMo might shut up all those people who think writing is easy (and say to authors "Yes, I might write a novel one day, when I have some time on my hands"). 

We're told that it takes 28 days to form a habit; if nothing else, NaNoWriMo develops the discipline of daily writing. Nobody is suggesting that by the end of the month you'll have a finished novel; the focus is simply to produce the "vomit draft" (the one where you get everything out of you and worry about cleaning it up later). You stop over-thinking it or worrying that nobody will like it. You tell yourself "It doesn't MATTER if it's any good. Write it anyway".  Because the first rule of Write Club is WRITE – as the saying goes, you can't edit a blank page. (And just knowing that you're capable of dashing off 50,000 words could be an inspirational surprise.)

The most valid criticism of NaNoWriMo is that you can't sit down and expect your creativity to flow just because you want it to. Novels take time to mature and writers need to get away from the page to reflect, fill their creative wells and get inspired. Sometimes I can see no way out of a paragraph which has become bogged down in gloop; after a good night's sleep or a walk in the park, it's somehow malleable again and I can breeze through it easily. Ira Levin mentioned a character who would always write two books at once, "turning to the second when he struck a snag on the first, and back to the first when he struck a snag on the second." Attempting to bulldoze your way through 50k words with no breathing space is aiming pretty high.

On the other hand, there's a lot to be said for the discipline of writing when you don't feel like it in order to meet a deadline. (It's what professional writers do, after all.) Let's not be precious about it; sometimes you just need to get your butt in a chair, start without your muse and hope that inspiration will kick in. 

The community aspect of NaNoWriMo is a mixed bag: it can be a great launching pad for people to pick up tips, collaborate, find mentors and feel supported. However, it could also be likened to prison – a place where people who might not have been so bad left to their own devices are now surrounded by bad influences.

Some of the advice on the forums is execrable. One thread on "dirty tricks to reach 500k" suggested replacing the word "suddenly" with "all of a sudden". Forgetting for a moment the insanity of throwing random words in just to fill your daily quota, this advice will cement your reputation as a hack. Rightly or wrongly, using the word "suddenly" is considered cheesy by many writers, along with "seems" and any kind of variation on "said". (You already know what I think about that little rule.) Filling out your manuscript with dream sequences, flashbacks, boring technical information and pointless adjectives may be de rigueur among NaNoWriMo-ers, but all those snobby professionals will savage it faster than you can say "Suddenly, she flicked her head and let her eyes roam around the antiquarian, old-fashioned vintage-style room, which seemed to stare back at her with sinister eyes and sigh miserably." (Attributing emotions to inanimate objects is my personal favourite. When you've seen one house "standing proudly" on a hill, you've seen them all. What works for Stephen King (a sinister, grinning typewriter) sounds corny from anyone else.)

It may not be "art" but I do kind of like the idea of a novel which is a gigantic game of Consequences: the NaNoWriMo forums offer an "adoption society" where you can use other people's abandoned first lines, tragic pasts, even plot twists. Similarly, novelist (and co-creator of King Kong) Edgar Wallace is said to have patented a kind of magic 8 ball for those with writer's block; his "Plot wheel" suggested events such as "a fortuitous arrival" or "heroine declares her love". Plenty of writers (including Shakespeare) create stories made up entirely of recycled ideas – ultimately, it's the way you tell it that counts.

Because there ain't nothin' new under the sun...

NaNoWriMo is sponsored by a number of companies who welcome self-publishers (Amazon, Createspace, Lulu, Bookbaby etc) but while there are persistent rumours that "LOTS" of people run to upload their novel to Kindle on 1st December, I haven't actually seen any (and it's very easy to spot new releases). Apparently some agents refuse to accept submissions in December, fearing a swarm of egomaniacs who all believe they have written a groundbreaking (albeit barely cobbled together) novel.

Skipping the crucial leave-it-for-a-few-weeks-then-heavily-rewrite-and-edit-it-to-death step gives NaNoWriMo "winners" a bad name - but fast writing doesn't guarantee a crappy result. Sylvester Stallone is famous for penning Rocky in 3 days (although it should be noted that like NaNoWriMo, this was only a first draft and Sly gave it NINE rewrites to polish it up before he was able to sell it). Paulo Coelho wrote his acclaimed bestseller The Alchemist in TWO WEEKS. (Makes you sick, doesn't it?) A classic monster was created when Mary Shelley joined in a writing competition with friends (one of whom was John Polidori, whose entry The Vampyre is considered the first novel concerning the  blood-sucker found in folklore. Not too shabby for one little contest). The first Sherlock Holmes novel took Sir Arthur Conan Doyle only three weeks to write, and John Boyne wrote The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas in two and a half days. (Proof, perhaps, that when a story wants to be born, it will be.)

Most of us mere mortals take longer to come up with writing of any real quality. Catch-22 was the result of eight years of toil from Joseph Heller. (To be honest, I wish he'd been a bit more brutal when editing.) Truman Capote took seven years to finish In Cold Blood. His pal Harper Lee has only published one novel in her life; apparently she's attempted more but has always given up because she isn't satisfied with her work. I guess once you've written something as successful as To Kill a Mockingbird, the thought of rabid critics devouring your next effort could freeze up your creativity. Harper Lee needs NaNoWriMo! 

In the words of Julia Cameron in The Right to Write; "in order to be a good writer, I have to be willing to be a bad writer... In other words, let it all in – every little detail that catches your fancy. You can sort it out later – if it needs any sorting." 

And this is why I can't agree with the haters; if you're one of those imaginative people with a million ideas buzzing around your head, NaNoWriMo is the perfect opportunity to see if any of them actually work. As the website points out, "99% of us, if left to our own devices, would never make the time to write a novel. It’s just so far outside our normal lives that it constantly slips down to the bottom of our to-do lists." If you have a story that's haunting you, a scribbled synopsis on the back of an envelope, or an abandoned first draft, you have an excuse to give it a go. Even if you produce 50,000 words of utter tripe, you're developing your writing muscles. And if you'd started back on November 1st, you'd have finished by now. 

If you're still anti-NaNoWriMo, let's just make December NaNoReaMo and concentrate on reading all those classics we've somehow missed out on. Great stories are a masterclass  in how to write, and we'll be honing our skills for next November...

Maybe Life Is Worth Living After All

People ain't so bad, are they? Amid all the bad news we're assaulted with daily, there are some stories which will restore your faith in humanity. 

First there was Harold Jellicoe Percival, the war veteran who died in a nursing home at the age of 99; he'd never married or had children and it was starting to look as if his funeral service would be empty of mourners. So when it was publicised in the local media of Lytham St Annes, Lancashire, the news went viral. More than two hundred people attended the service, paying tribute to a man who had served as a member of the groundcrew during the Dambusters raids. 

War heroes: Not to be forgotten

Then there was the 13-year-old boy with brain cancer who wasn't expected to live until Christmas (he died on 11th November) so his home town (Port Clinton, Ohio) decided to make Christmas come early. "Seriously everyone" participated, singing carols outside Devin Kohlman's home, and decorating the park with festive lights and reindeer. He left hospital so that he could spend his final days at home, and the journey became a parade – "Operation Bright and Loud" – which involved over a hundred vehicles; police, firefighters, and neighbours.Thousands of cards flooded in and Walmart supplied the presents. "He had the gift of being able to see how much everyone loved him," said his mother. "He's reminded everybody all over the world of what's important and that's love." 

The Christmas Crowd ignoring the Autumn sunshine

Another man who knows what's important is Ron Elliott, the lottery winner who isn't giving up his day job. Despite being a millionaire nearly eight times over, he says the elderly residents of the care home still need him; with "old people who rely on you, you can’t just take time off". (If only more people realised that jobs are not just something you do to get money, they're the contribution you make to society. Whether you're making art, fixing cars, stacking shelves or styling hair, you're a little cog in the big wheel that is humanity. This is why I can't get especially bothered about people who refuse to work and live off benefits instead; spending your days watching Loose Women is not exactly the triumph of a life well spent.) 

He even wore his work shirt to collect his prize. Bless.

It's also worth mentioning that Mr Elliot is a widower who lost his wife just a year after they were married, 41 years ago. Are you sobbing yet? (If it's any consolation, he is a father of one and has two grandchildren.)

Lastly, there is the now infamous story of Miles Scott, the 5-year-old with leukemia who asked the Make-A-Wish Foundation to let him be Batkid for the day. (The fact that there is a charity which grants wishes to seriously ill children is pretty heart-warming for starters.) San Francisco apparently jumped at the chance of transforming the city into Gotham and setting up crimes for Batkid to solve. The adorableness of the story has sent it soaring around the internet, attracting attention from Barack Obama and even a personalised theme tune scored by Hans Zimmer.

 

With each of these stories, it's inevitable that some miserable little twerp will find the non-existent bad side and comment on it. Oh boo, all these people who didn't know an elderly man when he was alive are trying to make themselves feel good by attending his funeral. Someone who doesn't need to work is "taking a job away from someone else who needs it". Lots of children who are sick don't have whole towns turning out to make them happy... To which I say; STFU. Choose to be happy that good things happen instead of trying to find the negative in everything. We have plenty of bad news, let's enjoy it when positive stories actually make the news, and accept the fact that life is pretty cool sometimes.

Why I Kind Of Hated Russell Brand But Now I Don't Anymore. Much.

So I finally sat down to write a response to the infamous Newsnight clip known as "Russell Brand may have started a revolution last night". I'll confess, the blog I had planned was mostly "Blah blah I hate his whiny voice and he's stupid and he was horrible to Andrew Sachs and Katy Perry and that's why I can't stand him".

It's never OK to insult this man.

In THAT phone call back in 2008, Russell Brand joked "You only ever played Manuel" – but the fact that we still know Andrew Sachs for work he did almost forty years ago makes it pretty obvious that he's far funnier and more talented than Russell could ever hope of being.

Then there's Katy Perry; in the documentary Part of Me, her response to the breakdown of her marriage was nothing less than heart-rending; the way she steeled herself for her stage entrance after hours of desperate sobbing was the epitome of "the show must go on" mentality.

We can't possibly know what really went on in their relationship, but the snippets of information that have been released don't look good for Brand. Katy talked about the "fairytale" she'd had in mind for her ideal man; someone who "won't be threatened or have weird motives..." but "that's not true for me right now." She elaborated with "At first when I met him he wanted an equal, and I think a lot of times strong men do want an equal, but then they get that equal and they’re like, I can’t handle the equalness. He didn’t like the atmosphere of me being the boss on tour. So that was really hurtful, and it was very controlling, which was upsetting."

Brand's apparent lack of respect for his wife leaked out in his "jokes", from her appearance in his movie Get Him to the Greek ("Her acting was so atrocious that it ruined the film. It just made the film boring and rubbish") to their sex life ("I’d be having sex thinking, ‘think of anyone, anyone else’") and the freedom of being single again ("Like if you've been on a diet of rice for a while and then suddenly Willy Wonka said, 'I need you to run my chocolate factory'"). Posting a make-up free snapshot of his usually glamorous wife "by accident" was a classic way of undermining the woman who was perhaps a little too powerful for his liking.

On the bright side, I've been listening to Katy's new album
 Prism on Spotify all week and it's awesome.

Is it fair to judge someone's politics on the way they run their personal lives? Well, yes. It's got to be a better gauge than listening to what they say. (I've always been particularly irritated by people who preach about world peace and then have constant feuds with their friends and family members. Pacifism starts at home.) So I was pretty nonplussed by all the cried of "Genius!" when Russell appeared on Newsnight, particularly the claims that he made Jeremy Paxman look "ridiculous". The conversation went something like this (paraphrased):

Jeremy: So why don't you vote? 

Russell: Because it's all got to change! We need a revolution! Everything is wrong!

Jeremy: Yes, I agree. So what should we do instead? 

Russell: We need to change everything and have a revolution!

Jeremy: Yes. How? 

On and on to infinity....

To be blunt, Russell was repeating the same half-baked philosophies you'd hear in any sixth form common room. When your plan for revolution begins and ends with not voting, you may have a little work to do on your manifesto. 

The media responded with scepticism: Harry Deansway quipped "how can we not listen to someone on the redistribution of wealth who married Katy Perry on an elephant in a lavish Indian wedding?" (He also mocked Brand's pal Noel Gallagher for saying that novels were a "waste of time"; I'd also remind everyone that the delightful Gallagher once said "I'm not arsed about world peace, a bit of war is good – it sorts men out from the boys".) 

Fellow comedian Robert Webb called Brand an "intelligent fellow citizen ready to toss away the hard-won liberties of his brothers and sisters because he’s bored" and told him to read George Orwell. Robin Lustig of the Huffington post pointed out that, far from being a message of hope, "I will never vote and I don't think you should, either" is in fact a message of despair. "By writing thousands of words of political junk in a respected weekly magazine, he sets himself up as someone with something to contribute to an important debate. The truth is that he has nothing to contribute, other than the self-satisfied smirk of a man who knows he'll never go hungry or be without a home."

Only the Guardian offers support, saying "It is a sad reflection of the dire state of politics and the media that it falls to a celebrity comedian such as Russell Brand to speak truth to power – and an even sadder reflection that mainstream cultural commentators find themselves incapable of even understanding his key message." 

Lots of viewers (who perhaps weren't that familiar with Newsnight) noted that Paxman was "rude" or "arrogant" or a "bully". But he's always like that! He rakes everyone over the coals, poking holes in all their arguments and scoffing if they waver for a moment. He won't let anyone get away with BS, and that's why he's a great interviewer. Far from being antagonistic towards Russell, he appeared amused throughout most of their encounter. That he started with the question "Who are you to edit a political magazine?" seems reasonable when you consider that he's addressing a stand-up comedian who doesn't vote; his "you are a very trivial man," was in fact a chuckling response to Brand's suggestion that he grow his "gorgeous" beard and join it up with his armpit hair.

Paxman tries to pin down Brand to a straight answer: "I'm not having a go at you 
because you want a revolution... I'm asking you what it would be like!"

Brand said he "felt cross" with Paxman (even when Jeremy said "I wouldn't argue with you" about many of the points raised) – which may be why he brought up Paxman's appearance on Who Do You Think You Are – "You CRIED! Because you knew that it was unfair, and unjust." A bit of a low blow? (It was Margaret Thatcher who once said "I always cheer up immensely if an attack is particularly wounding because I think, well, if they attack one personally, it means they have not a single political argument left".) Brand finished with a defiant cry of "I don't need the right from you, I don't need the right from anybody, I'm taking it!" with the exact cadence of someone on Question Time who expects to be applauded.

It's not the first time the pair have teamed up (which may be why Jeremy generally regards Russell with the twinkling eyes of an indulgent uncle). In 2010 they had a far more interesting conversation in which Brand talked about celebrity culture, saying the price of fame is losing your privacy forever and that "if you have a deep love of singing or dancing or basket weaving then you should pursue that," but to pursue fame for its own sake is "ridiculous" and "unfulfilling". He said he was sorry for the "impolite" phone calls to Andrew Sachs, astounded Jeremy with his belief in God, and declared his hope of achieving something "truly valuable" with his life. 
 

(So how come that one didn't go viral? Maybe the people who love the idea of a political revolution haven't quite got over their aspirations to get stalked by papparazzi.)

An appearance on MSNBC in June also swept through the internet at the speed of light when he amusingly pointed out the rudeness and unprofessionalism of the hosts. They started with a neg hit ("He's a really big deal... I'm told this, I'm not very pop culture, sorry") and continued into full-blown shambles (talking about him in the third person, saying they didn't understand his accent, and the final insult; inexplicably re-naming him "Willy"). As they grew more flustered at his unpredictable responses, he retorted incredulously "Is this what you all do for a living?!"

I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed his casual sexism; you can actually see his ego bristling at any kind of "dis" and his reaction is to draw attention to a woman's body / sexuality and to call her "love". 

Brand must be constantly frustrated; he's created a persona of being a crackling ball of energy, a comedian and a womaniser, but the very reasons for his fame are now the reasons he's not taken seriously. When he's talking about the transcendental realms reached through meditation and the disillusionment people have with religion, ecomony, and what they're being told on TV, the reply is a parody of itself: "But more importantly, did Tom Cruise buy you a yoga mat?"

So the upshot of this blog is that I don't hate Russell Brand any more. I still find him annoying (and his fans even more so) but he does make some good points. (I especially like his suggestion that we call the government "admin bods" so they don't start thinking too much of themselves.)  He's been very straightforward about his past drug use and is one of the few celebrities who admit what we all secretly know about drug addicts: "people take drugs and drink excessively, those that have a problem with it, because there's this kind of a sadness, or loneliness, or emptiness in them. I don't think they're doing it for a laugh." 

Obviously voting DOES make a difference (just ask Barack Obama, and all the people who will be able to afford medical care because of him) but Brand is alerting the big political parties to the kind of disillusionment many young (and old) people feel, and I think his heart is in the right place. But rather than throwing our hands up and gloomily saying "Nothing can improve our current conditions" why don't we try to make small, sustainable changes? We could start by giving MPs less pay and fewer opportunities to employ family members, spending money where it's really needed, and holding more referendums so the people can have their voices heard. That way we'll have a revolution in no time, and we won't even have to blow up parliament to do it. 

Wheeeeeeeee!

Rise of the Guerrilla Writer

Most people happily believe that they have a novel in them, but getting a publishing deal has always been the impossible dream; even success stories generally include multiple early rejections, time-consuming back-and-forth and then a tiny trickle of royalties if you're lucky enough to earn out your advance. In short, a tough life.

Amazon has led the way in changing the fortunes of those who are hoping to hit the bestselller list. With the advent of the Kindle they introduced direct publishing back in 2007. The payments have remained the same since 2009: any writer who uploads a book earns 70% of the takings – a generous slice of cash considering that you can't get a bigger platform for your offerings.

E-books have been overtaking paperbacks for several years now, and Barnes & Noble, Sony, Apple and Kobo all have their own e-readers AND offer writers the opportunity to self-publish. If your readers don't own a kindle, they can still find a format that suits them (hell, they could even download the kindle for PC if they were really keen).

This new freedom has revolutionised the publishing business. It's a slow process, but it seems the "big six"  are losing their grip and independent publishing is the way to go. Just as the music business was transformed by Myspace and Youtube, artists and writers no longer have to wait around for someone in power to notice them or hand them the keys to success. These days they can simply release their work online, publicise it on twitter / tumblr / facebook etc and reap all the financial benefits themselves.

So, the good news is: anyone can publish a book if they want to. The bad news is, anyone can publish a book if they want to. "Indie" authors hate it if you mention this, but there is a huge amount of crap out there. Scan the "free" and 99p range of books at Amazon and among the old classics you'll find hand-drawn covers, blurbs riddled with typos and the proud claim "this was written when the writer was only sixteen years old." (I think it's best if we all just burn those old notebooks, isn't it?)

Of course, on Kindle nobody knows you're a dog.

The flood of books which wouldn't even have made it as far as the slush pile is astonishing. (Some of them are even selling quite well.) But let's face it, amid all the 5-star reviews from the writers' friends and family, there are an awful lot of notes about misspellings and the staggering need for an editor.

However, there's a dedicated group of authors who take their professionalism very seriously and are working hard to get away from the "all self-published books are crap" stigma. They spend money on editors and copy editors and employ professionals to design their covers. Some create their own publishing companies to avoid the giveaway "Published by Amazon" moniker. (There are some unscrupulous establishments which offer to do the quick work of formatting and uploading the book, in exchange for a large percentage of the royalties. This dubious deal only works for those who would rather have books released under an umbrella name than put up with the shame of going it alone. Talk about vanity publishing...)

Bestsellers such as The Shack and 50 Shades of Grey* started life as indie novels (with the latter perhaps not really helping to erase the expectation of terrible writing) and even Jackie Collins is doing it. So with all these new developments, I wonder why on earth anyone would still choose to be traditionally published?

1. I want the validation of having someone in the biz tell me that I'm good enough.
2. I want professional help with the editing and cover design.
3. I want to sell paperbacks because I don't think much of these new-fangled e-books.
4. I want to do fancy book signings and have long boozy lunches with publishers.
5. I want to be eligible for awards. 
6. I don't want to have to do all the marketing myself.
7. I want to see my books on the shelves in book shops.

To which I would answer:

1. You don't need a publishing gatekeeper – sell directly to readers and they'll let you know that you're "good enough" by buying your book and leaving you nice reviews. Besides, think of all those stories about classic novels which were turned down a million times prior to publication. Publishers are guessing as much as the next man; if they weren't, every book they signed would be a bestseller.
2. You can get professional help with editing, cover design and whatever else you desire – you just hire freelancers. (And help out a small business too. How cool is that?) You might end up spending cash on editing even if you sign with an agent –- apparently they often recommend a "book doctor" they know for polishing the manuscript before they take it to publishers.
3. You CAN sell paperbacks. Amazon has a program called Createspace and there are a few other indie printers springing up.
4. You can organise your own book signings. The same goes for publicity interviews with book bloggers, tours of cities and anything else a publisher can organise for you (but probably won't). Many indie writers do all of these. (The boozy lunches will probably have to be solo, though. At least you'll be following a grand tradition of literary greats.)
5. Ah, here's where things get tricky. There has been some snobbery about self-published books although they are now recognised by the NY times bestseller list (and yes, some of them have made it). This may or may not improve but there are also steps you could take to make your "independent publishing business" look more legit. 
6. Tough luck, because you're probably going to have to do 99% of it even if you do get a traditional publishing deal. Agents now look out for writers with a strong online presence – if you have 5,000 twitter followers awaiting your novel because they know it's going to be right up their street, you're in a stronger position than someone who doesn't know how to work Facebook. It may not make or break your book, but if there are only so many deals to be handed out that year, why wouldn't the publishers go with someone who is a sure-fire money maker, rather than risking it on the total unknown? Duh!
7. What's a bookshop?

Ha ha. I jest of course. Except it's not really funny. I may not be entirely responsible for the demise of the bookshop, but I'm a pretty good example of why they've failed, as I haven't bought a book in one since 2002, when I discovered Amazon. (To be fair, it's only huge chain stores like Borders that I have forced closure upon, because my hometown doesn't really do "cute independent" shops.) I do still buy from second hand bookshops, obviously, and I love book swapping sites like greenmetropolis and readitswapit.

Here's a shameless plug for some of my artwork depicting my love of the written word:
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Beckalicious

The trouble is, Amazon is just better. (And this is why it's the biggest freaking bookshop in the world). Not only are books (and everything else) likely to be at their cheapest at Amazon, but it's so much more fun (and informative) to browse when you know that you're accessing a list of pretty much all the books there are, instead of the tiny fraction represented by Waterstones. I can find a book I'm interested in, read reviews about it, and discover what else was bought by fans of it (this has been an invaluable tool, and I hereby thank every Amazon reviewer who has led me to new and fantastic books and music).

The only way that bookshops had the internet beaten was the ability to flick through the pages and get an idea of the writer's voice – but now that Amazon boasts a "look inside" feature, they've got the market cornered. Bookshops can't compete with the ease of online window-shopping, so even though Amazon are a big giant evil corporation which is taking over the world, they are very clever at what they do. And thanks to them, writers have more publishing freedom than past generations could ever dream of.

If making your self-published book available worldwide through the miracle of the internet isn't enough, you can actually get those paperbacks you printed into bookstores. Pick the marginally more expensive option of "expanded distribution" at Createspace (or use the slightly less writer-friendly printers at Lightning Source) and you can walk into a bookshop and order your book. You can even offer it to libraries.

 

Don't you want to be the reason for this kind of happiness?

Waterstones themselves actually accept submissions from independent publishers, so get yourself a website and a PO Box and you're sorted! There's no guarantee that they'll choose to stock your book, but there's no guarantee it will happen for a first time traditionally-published writer either – not while the shelves are packed with diet guides and celebrity autobiographies.

What else can a big publisher do that you can't? Well, they do have the power to publicise your book with far greater reach than you could do yourself. However, that doesn't mean that they WILL. How many books do you think get published per year? Hundreds of thousands, right? And how many do you see reviewed in newspapers, touted in posters on the tube or given pride of place in bookshops? A mere handful. (And at least half of those will be established authors like Stephen King and J.K. Rowling, who would only need to upload a book to kindle for the news of the new release to whizz around the world within minutes.) 

And the money? There is no publisher on earth who could offer you a 70% share of the profits. Advances for first time writers tend to be fairly modest, and it's decidedly short-sighted to get all excited about a lump sum when you could earn far more over thirty years (and beyond) by opting for a higher percentage of cash. Also, some aspiring authors have this odd quirk where they see the advance as a wonderful, magical gift from the gods. Let's make one thing clear: an advance is not *extra* money. It's literally an advance of the money that you're expected to make. So let's say that your publishers are guessing they'll make £100,000 out of your novel. Your contract is 12% of those profits, so your advance is £12,000. If you end up making more than your publishers expected you to, that's when you'll start getting those dribs and drabs of royalty cheques. Again, not extra money – still part of your 12% share of the profits.

While you may think that you don't want to be bothered with the details of editing and cover design, you might change your tune when it becomes apparent that you have absolutely NO SAY in them. There are horror stories about agents or publishers who ask for extensive rewrites and then end up passing on the finished product. Writers such as Isobel Losada (who has been vocal about her frustration with traditional publishing) have openly said that they hate the covers chosen for their books. (Try googling "writer hates book cover" for entertainingly horrific stories of Kafka-esque conversations with editors).

Another advantage of self-publishing is that you can make changes instantaneously on Kindle editions, and Print on demand (or POD) arrangements mean that there will be no print runs of 50,000 books before finding a typo. Although indie writers get a bad rap, mistakes occur in books which have passed through the hands of several professional editors / agents / publishers. Who could forget Susan Anderson's infamous love scene in which her hero "shitted on the ground"?

Many disillusioned traditionally published writers tell war stories on Amazon's messageboards for writers (a fantastic resource, by the way). Evidently getting an agent (the holy grail for the aspiring author) may be only the beginning of the battle.

As one contributor puts it; "Here's another thing that I've learned over the years and my most recent agent confirmed – each agent has a limited number of contacts with editors. They might know 10-15 editors that they have lunch with, and these are the editors they have a legitimate shot of selling books to. If they send out a submission to an editor they don't have a relationship with, it's very low probability that the book will be taken seriously."

And worse; "Agents have super short attention spans.  If your book gets turned down 3 or 4 times, they lose interest and spend their time on the next hot chick on the block. If another agent has tried and failed, your book's not a virgin so you can basically fuggedaboutit even if you get another agent."

(N.B. Obviously, I have no guarantee that a random person on a forum is a reliable source. But you have to admit, it sounds true.)

Another member described a depressingly pessimistic "best case scenario" for getting a publishing deal:

"Immediately after reading my post, you get an email from an agent you queried six months ago. She loves the sample chapters you sent her and wants to read the whole thing.

One month later (October 2013), she writes you, saying she loved your book and wants you as a client. You sign.

Six months later (April 2014), she tells you she has a publisher interested in your book. Negotiations begin.

Three months later (July 2014), negotiations are complete. You sign with the publisher for a £5,000 advance (although it's much more likely to be £2,500, but this is the best case scenario). You don't know it at the time, but this is all the money you will ever see from this book. Your book enters the publishing world's deep freeze.

Eighteen months later (January 2016), following cover design, edits, and pricing, which you have no control over and are told by your 25-year-old editor to take it or leave it, your book appears in the stores.

Six weeks later (March 2016), your book is pulled for lack of sales, during which time the publisher has done nothing whatsoever to promote you or your book, telling you they "don't have the staff like they used to" to do all the stuff you say you don't want to do. They advise you instead to "set up a few signings in your area" to boost your profile, at your own expense, of course. Meanwhile, after your book is pulled, all remaining copies are ground up into pulp.

And that's the best case scenario. It would likely take longer. Oh and the publisher now owns the rights to your book. Good luck getting them back." 

As Cheever could tell you, there's a reason why writers drink.

Of course, there are the exceptional cases; Twilight was Stephenie Meyer's debut but it bought her a $750,000 three-book deal. (On the other hand, J.K. Rowling only got £2,500 as an advance for the first Harry Potter story. Luckily she went on to make a few bob anyway.) Publishing via Kindle is a similar crapshoot; Amanda Hocking famously made $2 million in her first year of releasing vampire fiction; but half of the self-published writers earn only $500. Yikes. (To put this in perspective, check out this traditionally published author's glee at earning out her advance – I calculated that she made less than $1.25 per book sale.)

Even the established authors getting nice lump sums claim the numbers are not all they seem; Barry Eisler famously turned down half a million dollars in favour of publishing independently and explained his decision thus:"My tendency has been to focus too much on that big, seductive number. But to understand what the number really represents, you have to break it down. Start by taking out your agent's commission: your $500,000 is now $425,000. Then divide that $425,000 over the anticipated life of the contract, which is three years (execution, first hardback publication, second hardback publication, second paperback publication). That's about $142,000 a year.  This is a more realistic way of looking at that $500,000."

There are plenty of articles and blogs by traditionally-published writers who have turned to self-publishing in order to regain control over their books and the income they generate: James Altucher tells of the sneaky way that publishers claim credit for publicity you've created yourself, and Michael A. Stackpole likens trad-published writers to ignorant slaves (vs the "Spartacus" indie who has seen the benefits of jumping ship). Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez points out that when it comes to giving the readers what they want, the writer's instincts are far better than the "but we've never tried that before" publisher's. (And no, I've never heard of any of these authors either, yet they're selling enough books on Kindle to make a living. Interesting....)

There's also a particularly terrifying description of publishing loopholes which are akin to selling your soul to the devil; if you do want to pursue a traditional deal please get a great lawyer first! It seems that writers who are determined to concentrate on the art and not worry their pretty little heads about the business side of selling books are in for a rude awakening: as it turns out, agents are not the warm-hearted mother hens we've been led to believe! One might even say they're in it for the fast buck (a quick sell to any publisher) because they get 15% of every deal they close and they have plenty more writers standing in line behind you. Who'da thunk it? (And don't assume that your publisher won't try to lay claim to the books you release by yourself, either.)

So what advantages do agents and publishers really offer? Basically, film rights and foreign rights. That's it. Oh, and respectability.

Really, who cares about who published a book? If it's any good, readers will like it. Life's too short to put up with glacier-speed progress, contracts in which the person who does the least amount of work makes the most money, and being told what to do by people who have even less of a clue than you do.

Of course, you might sign with the best agent in the world, but it's unlikely that a first time writer will get anything more than a push out the door and a flurry of sales before the publishers have to move on to their next project – they simply can't put a huge amount of energy into publicising every book when they have hundreds more in the system.

From the number of  indie writers who are offered deals, it seems that publishers now use Amazon as the slush pile and cherry-pick the books which are guaranteed sellers. But if you self-publish and sell lots of books, why would you want to randomly divide up the pie and hand someone else money for what you've created?

Self-publishing isn't for everyone; you'll need a flair for business and marketing as well as the ability to actually write good books (not to mention nerves of steel). But hasn't that always been the case for anyone publishing a book? The worst case scenario is that you upload your book and it never sells a single copy. The worst case in traditional publishing is that you tout it to agents for years and years without ever getting a deal. The end result (nobody reading your book) is the same, but the first option sounds like a lot less soul-destroying hassle to me. 

Viva la revolution!

ETA: Whoops, I fell for the media hype. 50 Shades of Grey was in fact NOT self-published. Truth really is stranger than fiction...