An e-zine for writers and those who love great writing.
SELF-PUBLISHING: THE BASIC CONCEPTS AND ECONOMICS
by James G. Rogers, CPA
THE ENCOUNTER
A Short Story by James G. Rogers, C.P.A.
WRITING AND POLITICS: PARALLEL WORLDS OF PERCEPTION
by Ronald Wayne Jones
POETRY WORLD
by Bob Nailor
SELF-PUBLISHING: THE BASIC CONCEPTS AND ECONOMICS James G. Rogers, C.P.A. Most new writers are quick to admit that breaking into the world of traditional major New York
publishers seems as difficult as sleeping on that city's subways without someone thinking you're
dead. Riding around and around the circuitous world of traditional publishers and agents can be
enough to knock off the average newbie. Is it any wonder that self-publishing is growing in
popularity? Self-publishing is very different from the plethora of vanity presses. Generally speaking, they are
places that take your material, print the number of copies you order and then hand you a fat
invoice as they load the multiple boxes of your book in your U-Haul. From there, you're on your
own. Self-publishing is a newer, different animal altogether. With the popularity and pervasiveness of
the Internet growing nanosecond by nanosecond, small upstart digital publishers are blasting their
way into the once-staid world of books. Cutting-edge computer technology, improvements in the
printing process, the World Wide Web, Amazon.com and other Internet-based
booksellers have given rise to a whole new way for authors to get their works into the hands of
readers. This article discusses several of the major details and economics of self-publishing. In marketing
terms, is it right for you? Can you afford it? What kind of up-front costs should you expect to
bear? How can you calculate your breakeven point? A self-publishing house typically has a relationship with---or is part of---a printing company. For
an up-front fee, the publisher takes your book on computer disk, scans any artwork you may have
and melds the artwork and text into a suitably formatted book for which an ISBN is assigned.
Your work is listed in "Books in Print". For an additional fee, they'll copyright it for you
(something you can easily do at a lower cost yourself with the proper agency in Washington, DC).
For another modest charge, you can have your work listed on Amazon.com, the largest seller of
books on earth, and other websites like Barnes&Noble.com. Once everything is ready, you should get a proof of the work exactly as it will be printed. After
you approve it, the house should create a screen on their web page for your book. Frequently,
they'll provide space for the first chapter of your book or a teaser of some pre-arranged length. An Internet-based customer finding his or her way to your book's web page will be able to read
the teaser and then go to a secure screen on which the customer's name, shipping address and
credit card information is entered. The publisher receives that purchase information, processes the payment, prints a mailing label
from the customer's information which is affixed to a mailer into which a copy of your printed and
bound book is placed and then mailed. Depending on sales orders, these publishing firms may
print a dozen copies of your book, but they don't print thousands. If inventory runs low or
completely out, the publisher prints several more copies, a process that modern high-speed
printers and binders can accomplish in only a few minutes. This is the publishing world's version
of just-in-time inventory management. To understand how the economics of retail and wholesale royalties work, it's easiest to use an
example. Assume you've paid a total of $500 in set-up per-page and Amazon.com distribution
fees. Suppose your book's retail price (on the publisher's website) is $17.00 and that your retail
royalty percentage is 20%. Each sale on the publisher's Internet site would be $3.40. Assume
further that sales on Amazon.com are discounted 40% down to $10.20 per copy. Figure that the
publisher offers you a 10% royalty on Amazon.com sales. Calculating the number of books you must sell to recover your $500 investment, i.e., your
breakeven point, involves assumptions about the number of retail versus discounted book sales.
What is a reasonable assumption for the "mix" of your book's wholesale versus retail sales? The
easiest way to arrive at an estimate of that mix is to determine the self-publishing sales experience
of books similar to yours. Let's assume you will sell 85% of your books via the wholesale or
discounted Amazon.com and the remaining 15% at the retail level from the publisher's website.
Calculating the weighted average royalties of your book involves adding two products together:
(the wholesale royalty of $1.02 times the expected percentage of discounted sales of 85%) + (the
retail royalty of $3.40 times the expected percentage of retail sales of 15%) = $.87 + $.51 =
$1.38. Dividing your $500.00 investment by the weighted average royalty of $1.38 yields a
breakeven point of 363 books you have to sell to recover your $500.00 investment. Given the above facts, every 1% change in the sales mix between retail and wholesale equals six
books. Increasing the retail percentage reduces the number of books needed to break even. Why is this information relevant? Marketing and financial planning. This simple analysis tells you
with reasonable accuracy how far you must go to begin to make a profit on your work. The
financial implications are clear and significant. You may well balk at the thought of paying that kind of money after having slogged through the
creative process of writing your book. Consider the fact that many literary agents now charge
their own up-front fees of $250 or more plus photocopying and telephone expenses to represent
your work---plus 15% of your royalties if your work is sold. Although reputable, professional
agents will generally not represent your work if they don't believe they can sell it, you still have
no guarantee of economic return for whatever up-front fees your agent exacts. Although your self-published book won't appear on the shelves of places like Barnes & Noble,
your work will show up on their computerized inventory. A customer who asks for your work
should be able to order and pay for your book on the spot. Several days later, it's in his or her
mailbox. Consider the important matter of copyright. Selling your book to a traditional publisher typically
involves your sale of many, if not all, of your rights. This is particularly true of new writers'
works. Aggressive, competent agents can help mitigate some of that reality to preserve certain
potentially lucrative rights for your work later. Self-publishing involves no sale of any of your copyrights. This means you would be completely
free to cut any deal you could if your successfully self-published book subsequently attracted the
interest of a traditional publisher. As with most things, self-publishing isn't right for everyone. Although it may not provide the
same rush of seeing your name sharing your book's spine with the name of a major New York
publishing house, self-publishing does provide certain economic pluses while taking advantage of
the burgeoning impact of major sales potential through the Internet.
1999 © James G. Rogers
James G. Rogers is a certified accountant licensed in
Pennsylvania. A veteran of 25 years, he has clients in a host of other
states as well as the United Kingdom. No stranger to writing, Rogers
also has four manuscripts for novels to his credit. His first book,
CAPITOL CHILL, which is under the pen name James Gardiner, is now available at Amazon.com. His e-mail address is JGRogers@juno.com
.
Check out HARM'S WAY, a round robin story written by the Range Writers.
What interests you in the writing arena? Poetry, novel writing, short story secrets? What would you like to read about in The Emporium Gazette? Tell us and we will do our best to bring you helpful information and entertainment in the coming months.
Do you have questions for our editors? Just drop us an email at: The Emporium Gazette
To give you a taste of Capitol Chill, James Rogers has graciously written a short story using one of the main characters from the book.
We hope you enjoy this sneak preview and take time to read the first chapter on line at the Emporium's Capitol Room.
THE ENCOUNTER James G. Rogers Lt. Peter "Easy Rider" Jackson was number one on the flight line as the captain of the U.S. Navy
aircraft carrier, John F. Kennedy, gave the order to come left fifteen degrees, into the brisk
ten-knot wind. That would make flight operations easier tonight. The massive ship's engine room
would have to make revolutions for only about twenty-two knots, enough to get the wind speed
over the bow to the comfortable thirty knots for hurling the warriors skyward. The wing from the
Key West Naval Air Station was itching to begin three weeks of exercises in the Gulf of
Mexico. Easy Rider's F-14 went from zero to one hundred sixty knots in less than three seconds. Jackson
loved that part of the flight the most. It felt like being rear-ended in a car the first time he
experienced it, but it was amazing how an aviator could adjust. A few moments later, his wing
man, Lt. Josh "Yankee Devil" Carson, joined him in a tight formation. They headed west
northwest to take up the outermost station as Team Blue one hundred sixty miles from the JFK. This was the elaborate game of hunter versus hunted. Everyone would test radar-jamming
equipment and acquisition radars as well as newly honed dogfighting skills before acquiring
additional coveted night landings. Jackson's and Carson's job was to penetrate the Red Team's
defenses. It would be good practice for the newbies in the JFK's Combat Information Center, the
place where the ship's defenses were coordinated. "Rider, Devil here, over," Carson said. Jackson made minor instrument adjustments. "Devil, this is Rider. Read you five by five, over." "How much longer till we engage?" Jackson smiled in his mask. "It'll take at least twenty minutes for everyone to get into position
before the fun begins." "I'm going to flip on my radar and sniff the air." "Go ahead," Jackson said. "You won't find anything. We're too far from any commercial lanes." Less than a minute later, Carson said, "Rider, I've got a contact, bearing zero-four-eight, range
just under eight miles, just loafing along. The Red Team isn't trying something funny, is it?" Jackson lit his own acquisition radar. "It can't be them. Their leader's bird was stuck in the
elevator when you and I were on the carrier's deck. Let's go take a look. You're on me." The
target was much too slow and going the wrong direction to be part of their war game. The
thought struck Jackson like a missile, and he felt the grin spread under his oxygen mask. * * * * * The twin-engine Beechcraft had dropped to an altitude of one hundred feet, and the pilot, José
Ramirez, felt the sweat drip onto the inside of his shirt. He'd earn nearly $400,000 for this trip,
but even the money didn't eradicate nerves. Suddenly, their Colombian home airfield felt as if it
were a million miles away. "That water's awfully close," the co-pilot, Nogas, said. "Is it always like this?" Ramirez nodded and smiled to help ease the new man's fear. "Si. I've lost track of how many
times I've done this, but my bank account hasn't. Yours will have a nice warm feeling when we get
back. You'll get used to that a lot more easily than this." Both men laughed. The Mississippi coast would be visible in another few minutes. * * * * * "Devil, you see him? Eleven o'clock low. Don't blink, or you'll blow right by him. Throttling
back." Jackson pulled the thruster control back and slowed the fighter to two hundred knots.
Carson did likewise. Jackson felt they were crawling on their hands and knees. "I see him," Carson said. "Is he what I think he is?" "That's a rog. Hey, are you up for some fun? Let's give the government a little more for its
money tonight while we wait for the Red Team to get its sorry behind up here. Follow me in.
You take the port side; I'll take the starboard." "What if he panics?" Carson asked. Jackson laughed. "That's what I'm counting on." Jackson cut back his power even further. Hoping the Beechcraft's pilot would monitor the
nearest ground station's commercial frequency, Jackson flipped his radio knob to the number
they'd been given in their briefing, the setting to stay off unless they had to warn a stray aircraft.
There was no doubt in Jackson's mind that this was a very wayward bird. He keyed his mike. "Unidentified aircraft, this is the United States Navy. You are ordered to
identify yourself. Over." * * * * * "Oh, damn!" Ramirez spat, hearing the voice over the speaker. He looked down, expecting to see
a ship, but there was nothing. An airplane? They were many miles from everything. "We've got
to take her lower." "We're already at a hundred feet! How much further can we go." Ramirez pushed forward on the wheel gently, and the plane lost fifty feet of altitude almost
immediately. The pilot craned his neck, frantically trying to figure out where the American Navy
was. Nogas looked sick. "Aren't you going to talk to-" "No! Where's the damned coast?" His shirt was already clinging to cold, clammy skin. * * * * * "These people are crazy," Carson said. "No lights, a hundred feet off the deck. God, he's lower
than that now." His mind raced, and his rage gave it a good run. The memory of Becky was still
raw. "Yep, and I'll bet they're not sixty feet off the water. I'm going to hit my landing lights. Hang
back here, Devil," Jackson said. "Roger that." Carson eased off in a wide circle to port. Carson saw Jackson's lights turn on, and the Beechcraft seemed to jump off the ocean, a scared,
little white gull tempting a lumbering, shifting, black monster below. The pilot turned hard to
port to avoid the light and rose twenty-five feet in altitude. Jackson's lights went off, and he
executed a tight turn to starboard, back to join Carson in a broad cloverleaf-like maneuver. Carson heard the voice in his headset. "Devil, here's what we're going to do." * * * * * "Do you see him?" Ramirez frantically rubber-necked around the sky and down toward the water
now a very close fifty-one feet below. An image of his wife and two small children jumped into
his mind, startling him enough to make the plane drop another ten feet. He yanked the wheel
back to regain the few feet of lost altitude. "Where did that light come from and what the hell is going on?" Nogas demanded. "I'm going to take us up a little more. That light scared me to death. It has to be a plane." "A Navy jet?" "I don't know," Ramirez lied, as he eased back on the wheel. He pushed the throttle forward
slightly to add a touch more power. They climbed to one hundred twenty-five feet, and Ramirez
began to alter course, trying desperately to spot the threat. The sky was empty. "Just some idiot out joyriding, trying to scare us," Nogas said. Ramirez felt the man's trembling hands through the dual controls. "I don't think so, but he's doing
a damned good job. I'm not going to play with the Navy. We'll hide the plane on the ground and
take it back tomorrow night." "I don't see anything," Nogas said. "No ships, no planes. Nothing, anywhere." "I'm getting us back on our original course, and we've got to go lower. The coast ought to be
coming up any minute." He eased the wheel forward slightly, and the plane descended to
forty-five feet. * * * * * "Okay, Yankee, on my mark hit your lights and angle in here pronto," Jackson ordered. Carson
joined him. "Now-now-now." As Jackson reached for his landing light switch, the image of his sister plastered itself in his mind's
eye. Becky had died a horrible death, nearly bisected in a car wreck caused by a man who himself
died in the process. The perpetrator had been so high on drugs the medical examiner had later
wondered how the man could ever have even started let alone driven his car that fateful night five
years earlier. Tonight, Jackson would make a small gesture to re-balance the scales. One instant the sky was a quiet, dark blanket hiding all but the stars stretched out like snowflakes
far in the distance on this calm, clear night. In the next second, everything was brighter than day.
Lights that looked like the core of the sun bathed the two little druggies from the front. Jackson
wondered if the pilot was peeing himself. The pilot did what almost every driver would do when faced with an imminent head-on collision.
The only difference was that he acted in three dimensions and pushed the wheel forward, a little
too hard. The nose dropped. A groping wave reached up and plucked the plane from the
air. "Lights off, Devil," Jackson ordered. "Done. We should get back to our spot in the sky." "Yeah. We're going to rip the tails off the Red Team." "We've had unfair practice," Carson kidded. "Devil, there ain't no such thing as unfair in war."
1999 © James G. Rogers
The dimensions of writing and politics are filled with illusions based on our voters' perceptions.
We seek our readers' votes when we ask them to purchase our work the same way that the
politician seeks to win our votes at the poll by molding our opinions of both himself and his
platform. We must remain friendly, treat our public with respect, and never insult their
intelligence. It is true that, like the politician, we manipulate our worlds to our liking. However, unlike the
greedy politician, a good writer gives his reader what he seeks, truths that will leave him stronger
for his journey. Nevertheless, perception is much more than a marketing ploy or a clever sales
campaign. Our process of manipulating it should begin long before the book reaches the printer or
the bookstores' shelves. While writing, a skilled writer uses metaphor, simile, and hyperbole to aid the reader to visualize
setting and make the scene come alive. We labor night and day to pluck the choicest action verbs
and most descriptive nouns to paint a wind-tossed garden of color, taste, smell, sound and texture
on the backdrop of our reader's experiences. These are all elements of perception. While we must remain vigilant against preaching, neither can we afford to lock the doors to our
souls or keep our audience at an arm's length from our feelings. Emotion is the elixir that our
readers thirst for most. The ability to climb inside the point-of-view character and feel his heart
pumping is why they buy our books, or ravenously consume our short stories. Those doors, no
matter how much we might wish to keep them bolted, must remain open for those who'd seek the
deepest meanings behind our stories. That inquiring reader must be free to perceive our innermost
feelings, while drawing on emotions of his own. Although you may choose to misdirect the reader's attention away from key elements vital to your
plot, never lie or deceive him. If you do, he will feel betrayed by your mistrust. For instance, if the
protagonist kills the rapist in her kitchen with a meat cleaver, it would be ideal to show her
chopping vegetables with the kitchen knife somewhere in chapter one. By the conclusion the
reader may have forgotten the nasty weapon dangling from the brass hook over the island of
cabinets where the rapist corners the housewife. Nevertheless, the reader will feel inwardly
satisfied that he was given all the facts. The reader should know all the relevant details the POV
character learns as he uncovers them. Your fan must remain free to witness your created world through your character's eyes and
perception is the key. To do this, a writer must understand how humans view their environment.
When you enter an airport, do you notice details like the countless businessmen wearing suits and
toting briefcases? Do you notice the hundreds of vacationing families? If you do, it is more as
swarms of noisy crickets rather than individuals. It is far more likely that the bearded vagrant
dressed in rags and carrying a cardboard box strung together with red ribbon would grab your
attention. Upon entering the mob boss's office is it more likely your hero would notice the neatly
arranged oak desk, or the laser scar over his scowling bodyguard's remaining gunmetal-gray eye?
What we notice most is the unusual, the out of place, so your character must view his
surroundings in this realistic light. No matter how much you might despise the political axiom, remember: in the world of writing,
like in politics, truth is perception.
Ronald Wayne Jones has
authored several novels in different genres along with numerous short
stories that he is currently marketing. If you have questions or comments,
on this article, Ron can be reached at The Rhino Den. He is also the
Gazette's West Coast Talent Editor and is seeking short story submissions
for the Gazette.
THE POETRY WORLD Poetry is a subtle force that spreads open its wings ~ Robert Nailor, 1999 This month let's play the word association game. I'll give you two words and you find the link. Poetry Kids Hmm. I'd be willing to bet you had to think hard on that one, or else a nursery, jump/skip rope,
or cliche rhyme came to mind I wasn't looking for recitation of "Hey Diddle Diddle..." or "Sticks and stones..." or anything like
that. I see the frown and can hear those eyebrows crashing together. Most adults don't associate poetry composition and adolescents together; but think. When did
you first hear a poem? Answer: Infant. When did you learn about poetry? Answer: Elementary
school. When did you compose your first poem? Answer: Probably before age ten. My point? Poetry is not only for adults, nor only by adults.
A crystal Fantastic imagery in only twelve words, the number of months in a year. This poem was written
by Martha Bregin, a second-grader from Pine Knob Elementary School in Independence
Township near Detroit, MI. Yes, you read correctly. Martha is only eight-years-old. She was in
competition with thousands of other schoolchildren from kindergarten through twelth grade. Miss
Bregin won the kindergarten through second-grade category of the River of Words International Poetry and Art Contest that is sponsored by International Rivers Network. IRN
(www.irn.org) is a non-profit organization located in California dedicated to preserving the
world's rivers. I'll also note that Martha Bregin accepted her award and performed a public
reading at the Library of Congress in Washington, DC. Impressive start for an eight-year-old lass.
Her poem and those of the other category winners will be soon available in a book. Do you have a son? A daughter? Talk with them. I was taken off-guard by my own son when I
was discussing this article. Seems I have a "closet" poet in the family. He retrieved his little
binder pad of poetry that he has composed over the years and started reciting. Yes, years! My
son is nineteen and still amazes me. Perhaps "closet" was a poor choice in words. I discovered during our conversation that he
usually composes his poetry while in bed in the morning; as he said "with the sunlight coming
through the window, it's really neat. It makes you think." So, here's a couple of poems that my
son allowed me to use. Before the Sun Comes Around Early in the morning Time
Time goes by oh so fast So, the next time you see a small child making a face, learning to ride a bike, or playing on the
teeter-totter, just remember that you may be seeing the makings of a future great poet of the
world.
If you would like to find out more about the River of Words International Poetry and Art Contest, please write to International Rivers Network, P.O. Box 4000-J, Berkeley, California 94704.
Submissions and comments are welcome, please send to: lorewriter@driveninc.net.
1999 © Robert Nailor
Robert Nailor is the author of CELTIC FANTASY, a blend of today's reality with the fantasy folklore of Ireland.
Read Chapter One of his book in the Emporium's Celtic Room.
The EMPORIUM GAZETTE is accepting submissions. Payment is a writing credit/byline and an opportunity to work with an editor. Articles should be 500 to 750 words in length; short fiction should be 1000 to 1300 words. Please email your submissions to the folks listed below.
Ron Jones--Talent Editor--Fiction/West Coast
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How about flexing some of your writing muscles for a good cause?
If this sounds exciting, then you are invited to enter
THE FIRST ANNUAL 23 House Writer's Competition
to benefit the children of UNICEF!
No entry fees, just a little frightful fun and some help for the kids.
Visit www.23house.com!
Need something to read? Try Denise Vitola's latest Putnam/ACE release, THE RED SKY FILE. On sale NOW in bookstores EVERYWHERE!
to lift the spirit upward.
It invites the mind to see things in a new perspective
with just a few words.
snowflake
falls down
on the
freezing
white
floor
of January.
© Martha Bregin, 1999
All Rights Reserved
Before the sun comes
The wind blows lightly
And morning birds sing songs.
If I had to describe Heaven,
This is what it would be.
Some would say angels and clouds
But as for me,
It's when it's still dim
With just a little sound.
That magic moment
Before the sun comes around.
© Rob Nailor, 1996
All Rights Reserved
The only thing we can do
Is look back on memories
Shared with family and friends
In hopes that those relationships
Will never end.
So make your life a joyous ride
Cause time goes by
In the blink of an eye.
© Rob Nailor, 1997
All Rights Reserved
Bob Nailor--Poetry Editor
Elyse Salpeter--Talent Editor--Editor/East Coast
Mitchel Whitington--Non-Fiction Editor
James Rogers--Business Editor
&
Denise Vitola--Editor-in-Chief