Adventures in Self-Publishing: If a Book Launches in a Forest…

The optimistic writer, prior to the event

The day after four people showed up at my book launch (five if you count the librarian/host), I felt somewhat beaten up. I went through all the feelings: disappointment; anger at friends and colleagues for not showing up; concern that horrible accidents had prevented friends and colleagues from showing up.

I told myself to buck up, that this is how things go, not to take it personally. (How can you not take it personally? the little voice replied.) Think about what a book launch is: someone reading at you for half and hour and then you’re expected to buy their book. A self-published book!

But I had cheese…

The launch for Smileyville came after months of work and weeks of yammering away online about it. Thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign, I had spent hours packaging up and mailing out books to my wonderful backers. I’d been emailing and knocking on doors to get my book on the shelf of bookstores, an art gallery, a deli! I had arranged readings and events. I’d sent out a press release, done interviews. I’d posted, posted, posted.

So the day after the launch (one of the people who showed up had no idea about the event but hung around anyway; he enjoyed the reading – and the cheese), I thought to myself, “I can’t do this again.”

Self-publishing is hard. It’s expensive. I did the math, and if I were to publish A Hole in the Groundtoday, the printing costs would be literally double what they were in 2016. Self-publishing is a tiny cry of “Read me” in a sea of books shouting, “READ ME!” And in the distance, over the horizon, a faint reply: “Who reads books…?”

I thought about the plays I’ve written. This past August, I mounted a successful production of my play Bride of Memphré. I can write a play, I thought, in less time, have someone else mount it at their expense, get paid nicely for it, and over two weekends, roughly 600 people will come to see it. A novel takes years to write, I’m likely to lose money, and in a best-case scenario, 200 people will read it. I would be over the moon if 200 people read it!

But then I got over all this self-pity. Because I thought not about the 200 readers but the one.

One reader.

I may not know that one reader (although in self-publishing, I probably do…). But that one reader enters a contract with me when she picks up my novel. She says, “I trust you. I’m going to close myself off from my own world for a while and enter the one you created for me. Please take care of me in there. Entertain me. Inspire me. Make me laugh. Introduce me to people I’ll like and hate, who’ll make me feel some things, who will become a part of me for a while. For the next 300 pages or so, we are in a deep relationship.”

A play is a collective experience; reading is a one-on-one transaction, and the intimacy between reader and writer can’t be matched.

Here’s a line from the one review I have so far on Goodreads (and, yes, I know who wrote it):

“Smileyville will be one of those books that make a lasting impression, because Murray created a cast of characters that are impossible not to like (even the pseudo-villain!). I was eager to get back to the book each night and am feeling a little sad that I will no longer share the antics of this community’s colourful people.”

This past Thursday, I was part of the Knowlton Literary Festival’s local authors event. The turnout at Brome Lake Books was excellent, and the people were eager to hear about me and the other participants. A few of them took a chance on the book. At some point —  maybe — they will open their purchases and enter the world I created. That blows my mind. I did that! How cool…

So a week and a half after my launch, I don’t think of it as a failure, but merely a wobbly start. The ship didn’t sink. It remains afloat. And now it’s tootling along out there in the wide open sea, modestly, waving a flag, waiting to take on passengers.

Ahoy!

Smileyville is available at Black Cat Books, Brome Lake Books, La Maison Anglaise, Townshippers’ Association, Nevermore Books, Galaxy Bookshop and other locations. It can be ordered through Amazon.

Read a review from The Barton Chronicle: