Vanity Press
Mar. 14th, 2007 06:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hafoc
I know at least three certain things about those unsolicited messages that keep popping up in my mailbox, both the paper and E versions.
1. If it says it's important, it isn't.
2. If it says it isn't spam, it is.
3. And, if you're a writer, if it says "We want to help you get published," they don't.
So far my forray of tossing Hilltown out into the Vast Silence has netted about four hits on my so-called storefront. I won't talk about sales since I warned Ye of my Friends List that the version out there may not yet be final.
But there have been other ripples of noise back from the Empty Vastness. I have received one "This is not a spam" from a spammer trying to sell me web domain hosting, and I have received two big glossy full-color efforts, one from each from two different vanity publishers.
Printing and selling your own book is not generally a money-making proposition. I don't expect to make money at this, though I'd be delighted to be proven wrong, of course.
Hilltown is going to cost me about $400 by the time I'm done spending on it, assuming I only issue the hardcover edition-- more, if there are other editions. That's a lot of money for me, but of course I have hobbies that have cost me a lot more than that. I can afford it.
The money goes for copyright registration, IBSN number assignment and stuff (if I should do that, comments appreciated), proof copies, and copies for the Library of Congress. I'm legally obligated to give the Library of Congress two copies of my book, as I understand it. I doubt I'd get in trouble if I didn't-- the FBI is too busy chasing down people who don't rewind their videotapes to bother with the likes of me-- but I suppose I should do things properly, no?
In this estimate, I would get the IBSN number through Lulu.com. You will notice, though, that I don't include any other setup costs or printing costs for them. That is for the quite remarkable reason that THERE AREN'T ANY. That's the beauty of current tech when it comes to producing a book. Just upload the files, and as long as everything's in the proper format, all they have to do is push the button and print out the book. They make money off the deal, but only off each copy as it's sold. And the books' sold before they print it.
The old style vanity publishers-- or "subsidy publishers," as they prefer to be called-- still exist. These guys will sign you up for a production run of 3000 or so books, minimum, and they charge you up front for the whole thing. Including, of course, their substantial profit.
Now, consider the case of a friend of the family. This guy editied a local newspaper for about forty years. When he retired, he assembled his selection of his best newspaper columns over that time period. He went to a conventional vanity press and had them run off 3000 of them. They did a good job, too-- very neat, very professional, and priced to match.
Like me, he had lots of friends telling him how good he was. Like me, he had friends telling him his book was sure to be a big hit. He ended up with a deeply mortgaged house and no way to pay the mortgage back-- and about 2980 unsold copies of his book stacked up in the garage.
They call themselves "subsidy publishers." Others call them "vanity press." "Desperation Press" might be a better name for it.
Because writing involves a lot of despair. If you write, you probably think you're good at it-- I know I do, on those days I don't think I ought to be shot for writing such tripe. You look at what comes out on the paperback rack and you know you could write better than the authors of some of those best-sellers. Heck, anybody could write better than SOME of them. I could chew and swallow _Great Expectations_ and CRAP a better book than Tom Clancy's _SSN._ You think that if only you could get your book in print, surely others would recognize your book as a masterpiece.
Everyone who ever lost their home paying for a vanity press book that didn't sell thought exactly the same thing.
Writing involves a lot of despair. The one certain way of making money at writing is to prey on that despair. Be careful out there, people. There are thousands of sharks out there, each one eager to do exactly that to YOU.
1. If it says it's important, it isn't.
2. If it says it isn't spam, it is.
3. And, if you're a writer, if it says "We want to help you get published," they don't.
So far my forray of tossing Hilltown out into the Vast Silence has netted about four hits on my so-called storefront. I won't talk about sales since I warned Ye of my Friends List that the version out there may not yet be final.
But there have been other ripples of noise back from the Empty Vastness. I have received one "This is not a spam" from a spammer trying to sell me web domain hosting, and I have received two big glossy full-color efforts, one from each from two different vanity publishers.
Printing and selling your own book is not generally a money-making proposition. I don't expect to make money at this, though I'd be delighted to be proven wrong, of course.
Hilltown is going to cost me about $400 by the time I'm done spending on it, assuming I only issue the hardcover edition-- more, if there are other editions. That's a lot of money for me, but of course I have hobbies that have cost me a lot more than that. I can afford it.
The money goes for copyright registration, IBSN number assignment and stuff (if I should do that, comments appreciated), proof copies, and copies for the Library of Congress. I'm legally obligated to give the Library of Congress two copies of my book, as I understand it. I doubt I'd get in trouble if I didn't-- the FBI is too busy chasing down people who don't rewind their videotapes to bother with the likes of me-- but I suppose I should do things properly, no?
In this estimate, I would get the IBSN number through Lulu.com. You will notice, though, that I don't include any other setup costs or printing costs for them. That is for the quite remarkable reason that THERE AREN'T ANY. That's the beauty of current tech when it comes to producing a book. Just upload the files, and as long as everything's in the proper format, all they have to do is push the button and print out the book. They make money off the deal, but only off each copy as it's sold. And the books' sold before they print it.
The old style vanity publishers-- or "subsidy publishers," as they prefer to be called-- still exist. These guys will sign you up for a production run of 3000 or so books, minimum, and they charge you up front for the whole thing. Including, of course, their substantial profit.
Now, consider the case of a friend of the family. This guy editied a local newspaper for about forty years. When he retired, he assembled his selection of his best newspaper columns over that time period. He went to a conventional vanity press and had them run off 3000 of them. They did a good job, too-- very neat, very professional, and priced to match.
Like me, he had lots of friends telling him how good he was. Like me, he had friends telling him his book was sure to be a big hit. He ended up with a deeply mortgaged house and no way to pay the mortgage back-- and about 2980 unsold copies of his book stacked up in the garage.
They call themselves "subsidy publishers." Others call them "vanity press." "Desperation Press" might be a better name for it.
Because writing involves a lot of despair. If you write, you probably think you're good at it-- I know I do, on those days I don't think I ought to be shot for writing such tripe. You look at what comes out on the paperback rack and you know you could write better than the authors of some of those best-sellers. Heck, anybody could write better than SOME of them. I could chew and swallow _Great Expectations_ and CRAP a better book than Tom Clancy's _SSN._ You think that if only you could get your book in print, surely others would recognize your book as a masterpiece.
Everyone who ever lost their home paying for a vanity press book that didn't sell thought exactly the same thing.
Writing involves a lot of despair. The one certain way of making money at writing is to prey on that despair. Be careful out there, people. There are thousands of sharks out there, each one eager to do exactly that to YOU.
