I used to tease my editor here at Creative Loafing because her first book took, like, five years to go from concept to print, while it took me just 18 months to write AND self publish my first book AND complete the first draft of its sequel. She has skillfully turned that ribbing back on me. Her book earned her praise in the New York Times and a contract for a followup. As for me, more than two years later, said sequel is done… um… again. And by “done” I mean “not quite done.” I just finished a mammoth rewrite that started with one little change to a main character and turned into a total demolition of the first draft. Kind of like when my wife started planning a kitchen remodel and then realized the kitchen is impossible to change without ripping out two-thirds of the downstairs — to the studs. It should not take this long to self publish a book, but I had a few incidents that almost made this book the literary equivalent of a posthumously released Tupac song. I’m not beating myself up over it.
I felt no sense of accomplishment when I dropped the last period on my next novel. I feel no closer to the goal. Why? Because the last year of editing wasn't editing at all. It was a rewrite. Now it needs editing — content and copy. My first novel was edited and reedited, and published. And then more copy edits went in after it was published. And then more. And then more. It was a messy, but necessary learning experience. My sequel is a complete novel that still needs a bath. Frankly, a lot of successful self-published books still need such a bath — a bath they’ll never get. (The same can be said for some traditionally published work, but we give it a pass because of the fancy publisher on the spine.)
In the meantime, I get to start some of the fun stuff. Like the book cover! And the not-fun stuff — like selling books. I mean… let’s’ be honest: Dreaming up the title and the cover are what we think of when we imagine our lives as writers. That and spending a summer in a cabin in Maine to finish our novel, only to learn that a) the cabin is haunted b) the previously helpful neighbor is a serial killer or c) someone in my family is possessed (in this case, it would definitely be my daughter). Ahh, the fictitious life of the fiction writer. If horror movies were accurate, it would show an author attempting to learn Wordpress and trying to figure out how to be popular on Twitter and Instagram.
I do look forward to picking up my draft and just reading it through like someone else wrote it, making minor changes — and then handing it off to my editor for her final examination. We’ve spent a lot of time fine-tuning the sequel. My first book is still doing as many at 50 downloads per week, which is amazing, since I haven't done anything to promote it lately. Rumors that ebooks are fading have been exaggerated. Forbes recently reported that genre fiction is dominated by independent authors who choose not to share their profits with a publisher and are connecting directly with their readers. And this makes sense in light of the fact that major publishers are focused on their established names and celebrity authors. They simply aren’t investing (i.e. taking risks) on unproven or unknown authors. Just read those two linked articles and you’ll have a good idea of why unknown authors have to publish on their own, or remain unknown.
I’ve been joking for over a year about when my book will be released. But now I actually have a hard cut-off. I’m taking a long trip this summer with my family and this book will not be nagging at me when we hit the road. Spring 2018, The Napoleon Bloom… ahhhh… blooms.
Bad genes forced Jonathan Kile to give up a life as traveling salesman. Good genes make him a fine and — some would say handsome — writer. His first book, The Grandfather Clock is available on Amazon. The sequel, The Napoleon Bloom, will be out this Spring. For real! (editor's note: or so he says). He is timidly trying to figure out Instagram and blogging at Don't Make Me Turn This Van Around..
This article appears in Jan 25 – Feb 1, 2018.