So, my novella, Fifteen Shots, is now available for the Barnes & Noble NOOK. No foolin’. Click here.
(I know I could just write “Nook,” but Barnes & Noble always lists it as “NOOK,” so I usually always go along with that. Just like the exclamation point in “Yahoo!” The actions of a journalist, an editor or someone with random occurrences of extremely mild OCD? Perhaps all three.)
If you’re wondering why I didn’t make the e-book available on the other major book reader earlier, well, once I fought through the tedious process of formatting the book for the Kindle, I didn’t feel like doing that sort of thing all over again. Little did I know about Calibre, which made the conversion process easy. I mean, embarrassingly easy. Like, “I can’t believe how easy that was, why didn’t you do that earlier, you ignorant, lazy fool?” sort of easy.
So, I guess it boils down to laziness. Sorry. Lesson learned. But the book is there now! And still just $2.99!
Of the most excellent people who have bought my novella for the Amazon Kindle thus far — still for sale, very cheap! — a few have asked about the book cover. The most common question being: “Who designed the cover?” Well, it was me.
I’m no Chip Kidd or anything, but I think it’s decent enough. It works for a literary novella. At the very least, it doesn’t strike me as hopelessly amateurish or cheesy, like most self-published books I’ve seen. It’s simple, but it’s clean. For someone who isn’t a graphic designer by trade, I decided that trying to do too much would be a big mistake.
The main image was in my head for a while. Two teenage girls are at the center of the action in Fifteen Shots. Something happens which alters their lives greatly. That’s all I need to say, right? I could say more, but you’d be better off just reading the book.
First, I hand-cut the girl’s figure into a piece of cardboard. I wanted the cover image to appear feminine, of course, and somewhat fragile, but I also wanted an element of toughness. My first thought was to fill the cutout with black pepper. But after scattering some pepper across a sheet of white paper, it was clear that wouldn’t give me the effect I wanted. It was too fine. I wanted fragility, yes, but not someone who would be completely decimated by a light breeze. After rooting around in my cupboards, I found the answer. Black sugar. I filled in the cutout with black sugar, then scattered the “top half” grains across the paper in various patterns until I found an image that struck me just right.
After that, it was photo time. I’m not a professional photographer, so I can’t tell you exactly what I was doing, nor did I really know at the time. I took a bunch of pictures of my black sugar figure and picked the best one. I popped that shot into a photo editing program and messed with the color, shading, and so on.
Finally, it was text time. Again, the credo was “simple and clean.” Oh, and professional. The very least I could do was pick a good-looking font. I went through every font in the photo editing program — most of them looked awful — until I finally convinced myself that I chose wisely. If I were to nitpick the cover today, I’d probably question the text. But I’d rather not drive myself crazy. It’s fine.
And there it was. It’s all in the eye of the beholder, of course. It’s quite possible that to others, the cover looks as cheap as I feared. But for me, it works. Maybe I can get Kidd to do the next one.
So, I wrote a novella. It’s called Fifteen Shots, and I’ve released it as an e-book. You can buy it here.
Here’s the book description I wrote for Amazon:
The mother. The dealer. The detective. In Fifteen Shots, the reader drops into the minds of these and twelve other characters during the course of one fateful day. Two teenage girls duck out of school to make a quick purchase from their favorite drug dealer, but the transaction doesn’t go as planned.
The 15 featured characters are all connected to the shocking outburst at the heart of the story. Fifteen Shots is about the reactions and reflections people make during a time of crisis, the jobs that must be done regardless of urgent circumstances, and the thin line between tragedy and survival.
A short, fast-moving novella, Fifteen Shots is the first published work of fiction from journalist Phil Dzikiy. Visit phildzikiy.com for more information.
There you have it. Exciting, no? Also, a quick warning: If you couldn’t tell from the subject matter, this book is not for the kiddies. If you’re easily offended by explicit language, Fifteen Shots probably isn’t for you. Otherwise, you might enjoy it. It’s a quick read, and the few people who have read it so far (all of ‘em straight shooters) have really enjoyed it.
Anyway. I never thought of self-publishing as something I would ever do. I work at a newspaper, and we get plenty of self-published books. They almost never look like something you’d want to read. If you do flip through the pages, you usually find your initial impressions were accurate. Judging a book by its cover isn’t normally a bad call in these situations. (Or judging the book by its quality of photography, paper, font choice, etc.) And many of the books come from vanity presses.
But, again, I wrote a novella. And very few publishing companies — even small presses — will publish novellas. It’s not exactly a “hot market.” (Though I think, if marketed properly, novellas should actually do well in today’s age, what with all our distractions and short attention spans. You might find a novel daunting, but you might find the time to read a novella.) I submitted to one publishing company that treats the novella with respect. And I waited. I worked on other projects as I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I heard back: No dice. It wasn’t a form letter, and I was informed that “the prose was strong,” but it wasn’t a perfect match, and so on.
So what’s the next step? Very few publishers will even look at novellas, and even if I found a publisher that was a good fit, I’d still have to be accepted. Waiting for that would take months, and if I was rejected, the process would begin again, and I’d be waiting even longer. It could take years, if it ever got published at all. In days gone by, that was the only option, outside of paying for a vanity press to publish my book.
I’d love to find a great publisher at some point (who wouldn’t?), but as a first-time author with no previous published fiction experience, it’s an uphill climb, to say the least. Especially with a novella to sell.
A few months ago, however, a friend enlightened me. He told me about Amazon’s self-publishing program for the Kindle. Told me about the royalties. After a while, it started to sound pretty good. In many ways, the Kindle levels the playing field for authors. I’m selling on Amazon. The Kindle is quickly becoming a dominant publishing force. And perhaps most importantly, my words will look the same as anyone else’s. The words are what matters — not the text. Sure, I don’t have the backing of a major publisher, but my expectations for this book are modest. Most things have been going in this direction, anyway — online, away from the “gatekeepers,” as it were. I suppose there’s no reason why books should be any different.
After enlisting a few friends to read the story, give feedback and check for typos, I did one final edit, formatted the novella for Kindle (not a quick process the first time around), uploaded a cover image and there it is. Instead of worrying about who would publish my book, I allowed myself to get excited. “The book is coming out. It’s coming out! It’s only a matter of time! Nothing can stop it now!” There’s something empowering in that.
I designed the cover myself. Maybe I’ll do a post about that process sometime in the future.
Another thing: The price. I set the initial list price at $2.99. It’s the lowest possible price to earn 70 percent royalties from Amazon. I’d price it higher if it were a full-length novel, but for a novella, I think $2.99 is fair, and really, a great deal. It’s less than a fast food value meal — and better for you!
I know there’s a school of thought out there that believes unknown authors should offer their books for 99 cents, just to get anyone to bite. As that thinking likely goes, a cheaper price will lead to more sales, and if a reader likes it, perhaps they’ll be back for more. Personally, as a reader, I wouldn’t buy a book from an unknown author just because it’s listed at 99 cents — especially a novel. Word of mouth and self-promotion are more important than a rock-bottom list price. Even if you do buy that book, what’s going to make you read it? It might just sit there on your Kindle, unread, forever. Or you might not like the first few pages and quit on it. After all, how invested can you be in completing a 99-cent novel?
Plus, $2.99 is cheap enough. If you’re going to sell a full-length novel for 99 cents, I just think you’re devaluing your own work. And if you’re going to devalue your own work, what makes me want to read it? I know some independent authors would disagree. But hey, whatever works for you. We’ll see how this goes. It’s a learning process.
Moving on. For now, Fifteen Shots is only on Kindle. I might pursue other avenues in the future — perhaps other e-reader options, maybe I’ll find a printed edition necessary at some point. But it took me some time to prep the novella for Kindle. For now, I’m just going to enjoy it.
Am I a bit nervous about this? Sure. But that’s how it goes. If you’re going to be a writer, you’ve gotta put yourself out there. You’ve gotta take the leap. I’ve been doing it in newspapers for years (it’s a bit different, but still). On this blog, too, though my posts are often rather silly.
But I believe in Fifteen Shots. That’s why I released it. I hope you’ll buy it. And I hope you’ll enjoy it.
I was recently browsing through Daniel S. Burt’s The Novel 100, a book featuring Burt’s own rankings of the 100 greatest novels of all time— if you want to see the list (and religious affiliation by author), click here. I picked up the book at a Barnes & Noble a while back for $5 or so.
Now, Burt is a literature professor who’s read far more than I have. And though I’m disappointed that Slaughterhouse-Five didn’t even make his honorable mention list of 100, Burt clearly knows his stuff. But after reading through the list, by year of publication, only 12 novels published in the 50 years prior to release of The Novel 100 (in 2004) made the cut. The most recent novel on the list was Toni Morrison’s Beloved, published in 1987. Not one novel published in the next 17 years made the list.
Meanwhile, in the 50 years prior to Lolita, starting back in 1904 … well, Burt’s list contains 37 novels published during that time. It’s reasonable to take this list as a microcosm of Burt’s opinion of the overall quality of novels during these time frames. So, the questions are … was writing really that much better then? How much worse is it now? Has a generation raised on many other forms of entertainment lost something in the way of the written word?
I think there’s much more to it than that. The old classics remaining at the top, on lofty perches, never to be knocked off … this is more than a trend in rankings of any type of creative art form. It is nearly law.
I think about this often. Burt is a well-informed man, but he’s just one man. In the world of film, let’s take a look at the most recent Sight & Sound Critics’ Top Ten Poll. Roger Ebert once wrote that the Sight & Sound poll — conducted every 10 years, and polling more than 100 of the world’s most respected film critics — is “by far the most respected of the countless polls of great movies.” The most recent poll, conducted in 2002, looks like this:
1. Citizen Kane (1941)
2. Vertigo (1958)
3. The Rules of the Game (1939)
4. The Godfather (1972) and The Godfather Part II (1974)
5. Tokyo Story (1953)
6. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
7. Battleship Potemkin (1926) and Sunrise (1927)
9. 8 1/2 (1963)
10. Singin’ in the Rain (1952)
I have no qualms with the quality of the list. A few of these films would make my own top 10 list, as well. But nothing released after 1974 made the cut — nothing in the following 28 years. And considering how new film is compared to literature, well, this list makes Burt’s list look like it’s skewing young. There’s also a Sight & SoundDirectors’ Top Ten Poll from 2002. Its most recent film is 1980′s Raging Bull.
If literature is an old man, and film is a teenager, then rock ‘n’ roll is a baby. Surely, in the era of pop music — the sound of youth — there will be a willingness to embrace the more recent. Right? Well, no.
Rolling Stone‘s 2003 list, The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, features 74 albums from 1990-2003, 88 albums from the 1980s, 183 albums from the 1970s and 126 albums from the 1960s. The top 10 features only albums from the 60s and 70s. (The highest-ranking album released after 1979 is Nirvana’s Nevermind, clocking in at 17.)
How is this possible? Why are we not learning about these creative pursuits, and using our knowledge to advance them in some way? Maybe we are, but we just don’t notice it yet. Or maybe we’re too in awe of the great works of the past — too afraid that a vote for something newer is a put-down of a recognized classic.
Will anything ever be better than The Beatles? Or Citizen Kane? Or Don Quixote?
Does new art stand a chance of being properly recognized during its time? It’s tough, and getting tougher. Maybe time needs to pass before true greatness can be recognized. After all, Citizen Kane didn’t make the S&S poll until its second incarnation, in 1962. Though Kane was released in ’41, it didn’t crack the 1952 top 10 list. (Though 1945′s Brief Encounter did.)
Perhaps there’s a great fear of hyperbole out there, which is certainly understandable. Hyperbole makes it hard to take one seriously, but even the perception of hyperbole is enough to be dismissive.
Maybe the older generation has just seen, read and heard too much. If there’s nothing new under the sun, the older folks — the people with the ethos, and usually, the votes — can tell what’s truly worthwhile much quicker than we whippersnappers. And they don’t need to waste time on watered-down versions of the past. I buy that, to some extent. (Though some rose-colored glasses can get awfully fogged up over time. The vision ain’t what it used to be, Mildred.)
Maybe — and this may be the most likely explanation — most of these voters just like to play it safe. You know who doesn’t play it safe? The English music press. Witness this list from NME. And what happens? They’re criticized for being hyperbolic. Sometimes, it is hyperbole. Other times, it’s bravery. Or visionary.
Who cares? It’s all objective, anyway, right? Sure. But if you get into music, or books, or film, or sports, or anything else — if you really get into it enough to care — you’re going to want to find the best. And that’s when you’ll find these lists.
So who can claim that any recent creative work stands among the all-time greats without being laughed out of the room? Does it take the next generation to make this push? Probably. I do fear that the splintered music scene of the past decade — which I often see as a positive development — will make it harder for the new fans to learn about our generation’s great works somewhere down the line, but that shouldn’t be as much of a problem in film. Or books, as long as we keep reading them.
It’ll be up to us. But we’re just going to have to wait our turn.
