Tim Pool is a liberal journalist that I follow online, mostly to balance out the conservative pundits like Ben Shapiro that I listen to. He recently put out this video, where he describes some of the lessons he learned from skateboarding, and how he applied that to become a successful entrepreneur. Really great stuff, especially if you’re a self-employed creative trying to build a career.
Tag: success
S is for Success
What are the markers for success when you’re an indie author? How do you know when you’ve “made it,” whatever that’s supposed to mean?
The implications of this question are more far-reaching than you might think. Just this last week, I visited with Howard Tayler (of the awesome webcomic Schlock Mercenary) up at Salt Lake Comic Con. Howard and I have been friends for a while, since both of us are part of the local writing scene here in northern Utah. As we were talking, he referred to me as an “up-and-coming writer,” then immediately apologized, figuring that I must hate it when people talk about me in such a condescending way. But when he tried to think of what else to call me, he struggled to come up with the right term.
When I first got to know Howard, I was an “up-and-coming writer.” But now, I’m something else. I’ve got twenty books out, a small but growing fan-base, and strong enough sales that writing is my primary source of income. I’m not a beginner, or an amateur, or an aspiring writer anymore–I’m a professional author. I’m living the dream.
At the same time, I don’t really feel like I’ve “made it” yet. I’m not quite making a living off of my books, though if things keep going the way they have been, I should be by the end of the year. I haven’t won any awards, I haven’t hit any bestseller lists, and none of my books are on tvtropes. Outwardly, I haven’t hit any of the obvious markers for success, and that’s what threw Howard off.
Then again, most of the outward markers for success in the book industry are flawed. The bestseller lists are mostly rigged, and even if they weren’t, they still only measure velocity–selling a high number of books in a short amount of time. There are companies that will put you on a bestseller list by buying up a couple thousand copies of your book and disguising the sales so that they look organic, so that even if you never sell another copy again, you can still put “New York Times Bestseller” or whatever on the cover.
As for the awards, they’re probably less rigged, though I suspect that the nomination process for most of them is all about who you know. In speculative fiction, the Hugos and the Nebulas set the standard. The Nebulas are juried, and I doubt I could ever get into them without first forming the right connections. The Hugos, however, are open ballot, and I could get onto them without too much difficulty if I had enough fans among Worldcon attendees to nominate me.
But are awards the best measure of success? Is it possible to succeed without winning any?
I definitely think it is. In fact, I believe that “success” is something that everyone needs to define individually, based on their own goals and aspirations. For some people, getting on a bestseller list is the ultimate measure of success. For others, the recognition that comes from an award is the standard. For me, my primary goal is to make a living as a full-time writer, so that’s how I measure my own success. That’s one of the main reasons why I decided to go indie.
At the same time, though, there is something to be said about the need for a standard. There’s basically two kinds of success: inward success, which is how you measure your own efforts based to achieve your goals, and outward success, which is necessary to put you on the map and get people outside your immediate fan base to take you seriously. The latter is the kind of success that I’m struggling the most with now–how to distinguish myself as a professional within the sf&f community.
But honestly, I’m not too worried about that. I’d much rather focus on pleasing my small but dedicated fan base than making a name for myself in the genre community at large. Perhaps that’s yet another reason why going indie appeals so much to me–there aren’t as many outward markers of success, but it gives you a lot more flexibility and opportunity to reach the inward ones.
To be fair, there are some pretty obvious outward markers for indie success. Every book on Amazon has a sales ranking that is updated in real-time, and every genre is broken down into a series of subcategory lists, each with their own top 100 list. But what all of that exactly means is still very much in the air. For some subcategories, you can hit the top 100 lists with less than 10 sales per day. Also, there are numerous ways to game the system, some of them white-hat (like buying a promotion or doing a giveaway) and some of them black-hat (like buying reviews or using sock puppet accounts).
Since the ebook world is still developing and changing, I don’t put too much stock in any of these new measures of success. In time, I’m sure we’ll figure out what they all mean. Until then, though, I’m going to focus my efforts much more on the inward measures of success and achieving my own goals. Maybe along the way, I’ll hit some of the outward markers by accident, but even if I don’t, the only person whose opinion on my success I care about is me.
J is for the Joys of Self-Publishing
Brandon Sanderson teaches an English class at Brigham Young University, and I was one of his students back in 2008 and 2009. At LTUE this year, he asked me to come in and speak to his class about what it’s like to be an indie writer, so I prepared a short ten minute presentation on the things that I love the most about self-publishing. They are:
1. I have complete creative freedom.
As an indie, I don’t have to worry about agents, editors, marketing departments, interns, or anyone else who could kill my project before it has a chance to get out into the world. If I can write it, I can publish it. If I want to write something crazy like a story about Amish vampires in space, or steampunk Mormon airships, or orcs falling in love on the battlefield, I can do it without having to worry whether it will ever find a home outside my hard drive.
Of course, if I write stuff that’s more niche, chances are that it’s only going to find a niche audience. But that’s okay, because:
2. I don’t have to be a bestseller to find success.
With the way that the royalty numbers for indies work out, I don’t have to be a mega blockbuster bestseller to have a viable career. In fact, all I really need is to sell a thousand or so books per month–which seems like a lot until you realize that there are 1.4 billion English speakers in the world (over 300 million of whom are native). Plus, if I have thirty or forty books out, I can make a comfortable living selling no more than double digits on each one.
It’s the thousand true fans principle at work, and for indie writers, it really does work. I only started self-publishing three years ago, and I’m already making enough to keep my head above water. And to everyone except my small handful of fans (who don’t even come close to a thousand), I’m just another nobody.
3. I have the flexibility to reinvent myself and try new things.
As an indie, I’m not locked down by any contracts that I can’t get out of. That gives me a great deal of flexibility in how I can run my career. If I wanted to unpublish everything and start over under a different name, I could do that. If I wanted to try out a new genre, or dabble in something experimental like serials, I could do that. At any time, I can completely remake myself however I want.
That flexibility is crucial because of how quickly the market is changing. Publishers are consolidating and going bankrupt, bookstore chains are struggling, and new technologies and business models are opening the doors to all sorts of new opportunities. As an indie, I’m in a great position to take advantage of them.
4. I can connect directly with my readers and fans.
Not just in the sense of connecting through social media, but connecting through my books as well. If my fans are clamoring for a sequel, I can write it and get it out to them while it’s still fresh in their minds. If they have trouble finding my books somewhere, I can clear the problem up myself without getting tied up in the bureaucracy of a large publisher.
The two most important people in the book world are writers and readers. As an indie, I can make sure that no one comes between my readers and me.
5. I’ve learned to treat my career like a small business.
A lot of writers view this as a downside, or at least a hassle they’d rather not deal with. They decide not to self-publish because all they really want to do is write. After all, isn’t it better to get someone else–an agent, for example–to handle the business side of things? Isn’t it better not to have to worry about all that stuff?
For me personally, the answer is a clear and resounding NO. The business stuff isn’t a hassle–it’s actually kind of fun! Plus, the fact that I know exactly where all the money is, how much I’m getting paid, and how much I owe gives me much more peace of mind than trusting all that stuff to an agent ever would. Far from taking away from my writing time, it’s actually given me more time since the only real person I have to deal with is myself.
Besides, freelancing is just AWESOME. I love being self-employed! True, my boss is a jerk and all of my coworkers are boring, but that’s okay because
6. I have no one to blame for my failures, but my successes are all my own.
This, more than anything else, is what I love the most about self-publishing. If my books flop, it’s on me. If they hit the top 100 lists for their subcategories and garner dozens of positive reviews, that’s on me too. I’ve had books that have done both–in fact, I’ve got a book right now that’s currently #263 Free in the Kindle Store.
Yes, there are a lot of ways that I can screw up as a self-published writer. But there are a lot of ways that I can succeed, too. Like everyone, I have to deal with the fear of failure, but I don’t have to worry about not getting the credit–or the reward–for my success. As an indie, it’s all on me, and that’s exactly the way I want it to be.
Random late night thoughts
I’ve been going on a lot of late night walks lately, just wandering restlessly around Provo. Tonight I had some interesting thoughts about how much I’ve changed in the last year. Surprisingly, I’ve grown a lot.
Last year at this time, I was all geared up for World Fantasy Convention. I had just finished Bringing Stella Home, and I my thoughts went something like this: “if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll find an agent, and they’ll like my pitch enough to see it, and after they read it they’ll want to represent me, and then they’ll sell my book somewhere, so that maybe, just maybe, I can make a living as a writer in ten years.”
Now, I don’t want to get into the whole indie vs. traditional debate, because I think it’s ultimately a false dichotomy. However, now that I’ve gone ahead and published my own work independently, I feel like I’ve taken charge of my career in a way that I hadn’t before. I’m no longer waiting on someone else to make my hopes and dreams come true, I’m going out and pursuing them myself.
That’s the big thing that I think has changed in the past year: I’ve gained a lot more confidence. A year ago today, I was working a temp job in a costume company warehouse, fretting and worrying over how to make ends meet and where to find a stable job. I had considered freelancing as a translator and teaching English in another country, but hadn’t actively pursued those options because frankly they terrified me. And as for writing, that was the impossible dream that might come true someday, but not today.
Now, writing is still the impossible dream, but at least I’m on a path that doesn’t involve lottery thinking like the old one. None of my books have really taken off yet, but at least I have them published and available for readers to discover, so when I do start to get some traction I’ll be in a much better position to succeed. And either way, I’ve taken charge of my own career.
So yeah, I can say I’ve grown a lot in the past year–which is surprising, considering all I did was stay in my old college town and work odd jobs. At least I didn’t move back in with my parents–which makes me part of an elite 15%. But now, I think I’ve just about reached the limit of how much I can grow here in Provo. If something doesn’t change, I worry that I’m going to start stagnating.
So in a year, where will I be? Who knows, but if I’ve grown as much as I have since October 2010, I’ll count that as a success.
How do you know when you’ve succeeded?
With books and publishing changing so quickly, a lot of writers are wondering how they can tell when they’ve actually “made it.” It’s a valid question, one that I think we all need to answer if we want to write seriously. For myself in particular, as an indie writer, how will I know when I’ve achieved success?
The question made me think about my experience as a Mormon missionary in California, and the definition of success that my mission president (the ecclesiastical leader and father figure for the missionaries) often quoted:
Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.
— John Wooden
This definition taught me that success isn’t just about external things that may or may not be in your control (for example, the number of convert baptisms per month), but is more about doing the things that are in your control to stretch yourself and reach your full potential. To be sure, external factors are important measures of success, but at the end of the day, it’s not just about the numbers.
That said, for a writer like me who hopes to make a living at it, the numbers are pretty dang important. At my current standard of living, I need to sell between 550 and 750 ebooks per month priced at $2.99 and $3.95 to accomplish that goal. Right now I’m doing about 30 to 50, so I still have a ways to go.
But is that the best measure of commercial success? If I have 10 titles selling around 55 to 75 copies each per month, will those books be hitting their full potential?
Probably not. For that reason, I’ll probably end up signing a deal with a publisher at some point in my career; there’s only so much that I can do by myself. However, in order for me to do that, the terms have to be right; I’m not going to sell myself short just to see my name in print.
(This is one thing that bugs me whenever I hear writers discuss whether traditional or indie publishing best fits their goals. If all you want is “to see my name in print,” or “to see my book in a bookstore,” how is that any different from vanity publishing? If that’s really your goal, fine, but don’t think it somehow puts you above indie writers–many of whom have goals that are much more pragmatic than yours.)
Artistically, I think the best way for me to achieve success is to take on a new challenge with every project and still feel like each book is better than the one before it. Contests and reviews have their place, but going back to the definition, success is all about self-satisfaction and peace of mind. I don’t want to tie any of those to someone else’s opinion about my work–that way lies madness.
But really, I think it all comes down to the readers. Unless you stuff your manuscript in the closet, writing is never a solitary act: it is an act of collaboration with the reader. If I have any measure of success, it will be because someone took the time to read my words. To be sure, I can’t please everyone, but that doesn’t matter; it only takes one person to make a story come alive.
When I was a missionary, I constantly asked myself whether I was doing the will of God in the life of every person that I met. That’s how I knew that I had succeeded: when I felt the peace of mind that came from knowing I’d made that personal difference in someone’s life.
I expect it to be similar with my writing. Commercial success is great, but numbers aren’t everything. What really matters is telling a story that connects with people on a deep and personal level, transforming them in some meaningful way. If I can do that and make a living at it, that’s how I’ll know I’ve succeeded.