Marco

[Jude Hardin]

In a former life, I tended bar at a Mexican restaurant. It was a hole-in-the-wall dump of a place, a converted Frisch’s Big Boy with a few colorful blankets and sombreros and piñatas tacked to the walls for “atmosphere.” The food was authentic, though, and we always got good reviews in the newspaper.

I started each shift by cutting dozens of limes into wheels for garnishes, mixing five-gallon tanks of margaritas, and generally prepping the bar for what we called “Fiesta Hour.”

Between 2PM and 7PM, you could buy jumbo margaritas and well drinks for half-price, and you could eat fresh tortilla chips and homemade salsa for free. In theory, the cheap drinks and free snacks were supposed to stimulate customers’ appetites. In theory, they would then order a plate of rellenos or enchiladas or pollo con salsa verde. In practice, however, quite a few patrons regularly came in strictly for the cut-rate tequila buzz and comp munchies.

One of those patrons was a guy named Marco.

Mid-thirties, tall and thin, stringy blond hair, big Adam’s apple, still lived with his parents.

He always ordered multiple margaritas on the rocks (light on the ice; he got more booze that way), multiple baskets of chips, and multiple tubs of hot and mild salsa. He never bought anything off the menu, and he never tipped me a dime.

But those weren't the main reasons I dreaded seeing him.

You see, Marco was a self-proclaimed perfumier. He had a “laboratory” set up in his basement, where he distilled oils and essences, spices and extracts--all sorts of exotic and volatile concoctions designed to titillate the human olfactory nerve. Drop-by-drop, Mad Scientist Marco filled tiny glass vials with these precious potions of his, and then mounted the vials in a briefcase for display. Sometimes he brought the briefcase to the bar with him.

There was only one problem with Marco’s fragrances: they didn’t smell very good. In fact, they stunk.

That’s not just my opinion. Everybody who ever smelled Marco’s products said they stunk. Popping the cork on one of his bottles was like unleashing the hounds of perfume hell. Imagine an elevator full of blue-haired, lipstick-toothed octogenarians, whose senses of smell died sometime during the Carter administration. Add a couple of funeral sprays, some rubbing alcohol, and maybe a dash of Pine Sol. Shake well.

Oh, he occasionally sold one of those vile vials, to a kindly cocktail server or a nearby customer who took pity on him. I even bought a bottle one time, only to pitch it in the dumpster on my way home.

Unfortunately, our patronage only encouraged him. He kept making more of that kerosene cologne, kept trying to hawk it during Fiesta Hour. Eventually, the restaurant owner had a talk with him. Marco didn’t come in very often after that.

Marco’s dream was to be a famous perfume designer. The way I see it, he went about it all wrong.

Shouldn’t you know a little bit about chemistry? Shouldn't you be aware of how various substances might interact with human glandular secretions? Shouldn’t you maybe spend some time in Paris or New York or somewhere studying with masters of the trade? Shouldn’t you analyze popular scents on a molecular level to see just what it is about them that turns people on?

Marco didn’t do any of that. Marco bought some smelly stuff through the mail, pumped it into amateurish-looking containers, tried to sell it from a briefcase at the cantina.

And he wanted to call himself a perfumier.

Sorry, Marco, but you have to earn that title.

Just as, in my opinion, writers have to earn the title of published author.

Anyone who can scratch out words on a page can have those words printed and bound and put up for sale on sites like Amazon. To me, that type of publishing is tantamount to bottling perfume from a basement lab and selling it from a briefcase in a bar.

In other words, it’s very likely that the end product will stink.

I was at a writer’s conference one time, outside smoking a cigarette, when a fellow attendee strolled up and asked for a light.

“What kind of stuff do you write?” he asked.

“Hardboiled. I’m working on a private eye novel.”

“Anything published yet?”

“Not yet. I’m still looking for an agent. How ‘bout you?”

“Yeah, I have a book out.”

“Really? Who’s the publisher?”

He named a certain POD outfit. "Here, let me give you one of my cards...”

He handed me a business card and walked away. He avoided me for the duration of the conference, preferring instead to hang around with other “published authors.” I felt like grabbing him by the collar and shouting you’re not published either, you punk, but of course I didn’t. Anyway, I doubt my harsh words would have penetrated his cloud of arrogance.

There are no shortcuts to becoming a published author. You have to earn the title by landing a contract with a legitimate publisher, and that can take years of hard work.

Some folks would rather throw up a lab in the basement and start hawking product right away (throw up and hawk being the key words there).

That’s their choice, I suppose, but I really don’t see the point.

[John Dishon]

I concede all those points to that last part. Self-published authors still get paid for their work (assuming they sell at least one copy). Weekend warriors don't, except for what John talks about below. Also, these teams you mentioned, Knopf, Dutton, etc, do not report to a higher authority. There's no league commissioner. And Knopf is part of Random House, so I wouldn't consider them separate teams.

But none of this changes the definition of a published author, which I gave above.

[Jude Hardin]

You are a published writer if your work is available for the public to read.

That makes everyone who has ever posted anything on the internet a published writer, which therefore makes the word published absolutely meaningless.

If that's the case, then we just need to create some new terminology. I'll never accept the notion that Joe Schmoe, who sends The How to Cook with Beer Cookbook in to the POD outfit of his choice to be printed and bound and put up for sale on Amazon, is just as published as someone who lands a book deal with a real publisher.

It's not about needing to feel special. It's about needing some sort of terminology that has meaning and makes sense.

[John Dishon]

That makes everyone who has ever posted anything on the internet a published writer, which therefore makes the word published absolutely meaningless.

Exactly! And legally, that is what counts as being published. And it does make sense. Look up the definition of publish.

You seem to want a word you can use to determine when you've reached a goal. Something that you can use to let others know that your work is a cut above other people's work, and that you earned it. And "published author" is the socially accepted term. Published has taken on a certain connotation. But technically, publishing is easy to do.

You can't accept being side by side with a self-published work simply because of who published it, not because of the quality of the book (something that has to be taken on a case by case basis). It's not bad books you want to stay away from, it's self-published ones.

Since we're making comparisons, this is analogous to not wanting to be around people from other nations. Nevermind how good a person he might be, I'm not even going to try to find out because he's from Taiwan.

That's not a perfect comparison of course, but as Eric pointed out, differences in analogies are not surprising or all that relevant, so this one should be okay. You're taking where it comes from over how good it is (or might be). It's certainly your right to do that.

[Eric Christopherson]

Agree with much of this John, but as to "It's not bad books you want to stay away from, it's self-published ones" the truth is one really doesn't know the quality of self-published books; there really isn't an objective reason to believe they're any good. Why would anyone want to be associated with them?

FYI there are a handful of agents who blog, and who publish statistics related to their businesses. One I just read received about 35,000 queries during 2008 and took on 2 new clients. That's some kind of filter if you believe agents are any good at spotting quality or saleable writing.

Also FYI most agents agree that only about 2% of the work that crosses their desk via queries is remotely saleable. So it's easy for me--and I daresay most people--to envision a huge gap in quality between agented/published authors and unagented/self-published authors.

[Jude Hardin]

You can't accept being side by side with a self-published work simply because of who published it, not because of the quality of the book (something that has to be taken on a case by case basis). It's not bad books you want to stay away from, it's self-published ones.

Since we're making comparisons, this is analogous to not wanting to be around people from other nations. Nevermind how good a person he might be, I'm not even going to try to find out because he's from Taiwan.

Nonsense. The fact is, there's publishing, and then there's self publishing, and the two barely resemble each other 99.9% of the time. It's not just my opinion. Ask anyone who knows anything about books, anything about the publishing industry.

Oh, but I forgot, nobody knows anything about anything, so Billy Bob's semi-literate scribblings on a greasy pizza box are just as valid as, say, Shakespeare's sonnets.

Whatever.

[John Dishon]

To Eric:

I would agree that traditional publishers have a higher percentage of quality works than self-publishers (all of them combined, that is). While I don't believe agents and editors are always the best at discerning quality, they are, on the whole, better than nothing.

But then, you have to take a book on a case by case basis. I also don't know the quality of a self-published book until I read it. But that's the same for a traditionally published book as well. Just because the editor liked it doesn't mean I will.

And there's also no way to tell whether a self-published book has been edited, or by how many people, just from looking at the book. It's a safer bet with a publisher because you know someone else has looked over it, but just because a book is self-published doesn't mean there has been no editing. Maybe proportionally it does, but for any given book, you have to read it to gauge the quality.

It's the attitude that if it's self-published it has to be garbage that I find distasteful. Not wanting anything to do with a book merely because of where it was published is awful, in my opinion. Of course we can all believe what we wish. I'm not saying everyone should go out and start reading self-published books, I'm just saying it's not fair to dismiss a whole group of authors just because of the logo on the spine, just as it isn't fair to dismiss people because of stereotypes. You don't have to read the books, but what is the point in belittling those who do publish that way?

[John Dishon]

99.9% you just made up, so there's no use in that. I'm not sure how much editors and agents know about self-published books if they don't accept them as submissions and where would they find the time to read them with all their other submissions to get through? So there's no real argument here.

Everybody knows it's true, just ask them. Nice. Well, I guess the argument ends here then, but just one more thing: yes, Shakespeare's and Billy Bob's writings are both valid. Billy Bob isn't as good a writer as Shakespeare, his work isn't culturally or historically significant while Shakespeare's is, but what Billy Bob has to say is just as valid and he has just as much right to say it.

[Jude Hardin]

I'm just wondering, John, since you admitted way back at the beginning of the thread that you've never actually read a self-published book...you know, how can you even voice an opinion?

Maybe there are some great self-published books out there. But if they are great, wouldn't the authors want to avoid the stigma of being self-published and, you know, actually have a chance at finding some sort of readership and maybe even a paycheck at the end of the day?

I have nothing against self-publishing per se. If that's the route a writer chooses, more power to them. Best of luck. Still. my original thesis, and the one I still believe to be true, is that a writer has to earn the title of "published author." Having something printed up just really isn't the same. Period. And that's the last I have to say on the subject.

[John Dishon]

See, I'm not arguing that self-published books are great. I'm arguing that dismissing something without even giving it a chance is not great.

So self-published authors are okay as long as they don't try to use a term that you have deemed off limits to them? You didn't say you wanted to grab the iUniverse guy by the collar and wish him best of luck.

Well, I didn't expect to change your mind. There's some people you just can't tell them anything. You have your way of looking at it, it's the only right way. Period. So it doesn't matter how much I argue with you. Just like the writer's block thing. You haven't experienced it so it must not be real, nevermind how many people tell you they've experienced it. So how can you even have an opinion on it if you haven't experienced it?

Maybe you need to understand that people don't all do things for the same reason. You can't fathom why someone would want to self-publish, but that doesn't mean there's no good reason. Not everyone self-publishes because they couldn't make it with a traditional publisher. Not everyone publishes to make money or to gain a readership. Strange to you, maybe, but not strange to everyone.

By the way, did you read the iUniverse guy's book? Maybe he's a great writer. What's his name? I'd like to read it for myself.

[I. J. Parker]

Interesting discussion and not new. The MWA rule cited probably applies to other juried awards also and the requirements are modest. As for why not all entries should be accepted for judging: speaking as someone who has judged in the past, the reading volume is huge already, and judges are faced with deadlines and with considering other criteria of eligibility (date of publication and specific genre, for example, are by no means easily established in all cases). These things can require research, because publishers or authors do not always follow the guidelines. Anything that keeps the number of submissions legitimate and manageable is helpful.

The fact a publisher unrelated to the author has seen sufficient value in the book to agree to a small advance or to paying royalties is a reasonable expectation of an awards committee. Otherwise, the job would be impossible because clearly anyone can and does publish just about anything. The requirement assures a certain minimum standard for the publication.

But there is nothing wrong with self-publishing, and good books are sometimes unable to find publishers because the subject matter may not fit the publisher's plans. But what is wrong with letting the book go out and find its way without expecting an award? If the book succeeds with readers, the advances for book number two will follow, and so may the awards.

[John Dishon]

Agreed, and I think the MWA argument is a diversion anyway. They are an organization and can set their requirements however they see fit, including for awards and whatever else. Nothing wrong with that at all because, and this is the important part, being excluded from the MWA (or any other writing organization) does not exclude you from being a published author. Anyone who has a work available for distribution can call themselves a published author if they choose, regardless of what others think about such a thing. Not everyone puts special importance on the title, and no one is required to do so.

[Pepper Smith]

It really wasn't intended as a diversion. A number of authors (MWA members) with small presses (also MWA members) who had been invited to participate on panels at genre conventions suddenly found themselves uninvited once MWA changed their requirements for approved publishers, and were no longer allowed to offer their books for sale at the convention as they would have been previously. Reviewers started taking only books published by MWA recognized publishers. These authors were suddenly being treated as if they were unpublished, even though in the case of the convention panels, the organizers had seen enough merit in their work previously to invite them in the first place. There's a lot of power behind the MWA name, and a little more forethought might have been a good idea before they did what they did, even if the reactions by conventions and reviewers were unintended results.