I consider myself lucky to be self-publishing my memoir. Had I written it a few years ago it would in all probability have been read by a few dutiful family members and friends, then languished on a pen-drive, or, had I printed it out, on a dusty shelf or drawer. (Dusting is not my favourite activity.)
I hadn't planned on the self-publishing option. When I came close to finishing my memoir, I began researching information about finding an agent. I knew it was a pretty long shot. And even if I did find one, I was fully aware that the chance of he or she finding me a publisher was even more remote.
I ordered the obligitory, 'Artists and Writers' Handbook', and pored over it in search of agents willing to represent memoir writers, (Depressingly few). I had already spent many hours sitting at a hot computer seeking, 'how to...' advice and subsequently constructing my cover letter.When I realised that most agents also expected a detailed synopsis, I lost the will to live, or at the very least, to publish.
My daugher, wisely realising I had reached breaking point, and calculating that the pretty enevitable agent rejection might push me over the edge, uttered the three words that restored my hope and my sanity: 'Let's self-publish.'
That in itself is apparently easy-peasy, although I'm not quite at that stage yet. The hard part is promoting the book, so that people will actually know it exsits, and hopefully buy it. This is where having an agent and a publisher would be wonderful. However I understand that nowadays even authors who are represented are still expected to self-promote. Also, although self-promoting is damned hard work, it's kind of exciting too, knowing that any success I achieve is down to me.
My self-published memoir will be out there very soon. Meanwhile I continue to stumble through the myriad of social networking and promotion, with the fierce determination of a mother focused on providing her new baby with the best possible start in life.
I hadn't planned on the self-publishing option. When I came close to finishing my memoir, I began researching information about finding an agent. I knew it was a pretty long shot. And even if I did find one, I was fully aware that the chance of he or she finding me a publisher was even more remote.
I ordered the obligitory, 'Artists and Writers' Handbook', and pored over it in search of agents willing to represent memoir writers, (Depressingly few). I had already spent many hours sitting at a hot computer seeking, 'how to...' advice and subsequently constructing my cover letter.When I realised that most agents also expected a detailed synopsis, I lost the will to live, or at the very least, to publish.
My daugher, wisely realising I had reached breaking point, and calculating that the pretty enevitable agent rejection might push me over the edge, uttered the three words that restored my hope and my sanity: 'Let's self-publish.'
That in itself is apparently easy-peasy, although I'm not quite at that stage yet. The hard part is promoting the book, so that people will actually know it exsits, and hopefully buy it. This is where having an agent and a publisher would be wonderful. However I understand that nowadays even authors who are represented are still expected to self-promote. Also, although self-promoting is damned hard work, it's kind of exciting too, knowing that any success I achieve is down to me.
My self-published memoir will be out there very soon. Meanwhile I continue to stumble through the myriad of social networking and promotion, with the fierce determination of a mother focused on providing her new baby with the best possible start in life.