Oh, God! It’s the END of PUBLISHING!!!
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Here’s a link to yet another idiot in love with the straight-line-projection, declaring that professional writers are doomed.

"Dooooomed! We're all DOOMED, I tell you!"

"Dooooomed! We're all DOOMED, I tell you!"

He makes the following assumptions:

  • That 100% of people, given a choice between stealing something and paying for it, will steal it.
  • That the shitbags who steal from torrent sites would have actually paid for the books had the torrents not been available.
  • That quality has no virtue, and that no writer will be good enough to warrant the support of readers enthusiastic enough about their work to PAY them, rather than stealing from them.
  • That publishers somehow PROTECT writers, and that left in the wild, no writers will be able to survive.

This article is generating some worried discussion on the How To Think Sideways Renegade Marketing board. (Members only, so no link).

Now read my counterargument.

Our objective HERE is to make sure good writers without publishers don’t get lost.

To do that, you:

  • Write a story worth reading
  • Price it at a price people with integrity will willingly pay
  • Recommend other writers whose work is like yours.
  • Get to know them, exchange site links, and promote each other’s work as well as your own.
  • Interact personally with your readers.
  • Thank them when they recommend you to other readers.
  • Let them know they matter to you.
  • Listen to what the people who LOVE your work have to say about it. (To hell with the ones who hate it—they’re not your market and you’ll kill your writing trying to satisfy them.)

Look. It’s always “the best of times, the worst of times.” If you figure out what really matters to you in life, decide on a plan of action to make it happen, and then act, for you it will be the best of times.

If you sit on your hands and bemoan the horrible state of publishing, you’ll live in the worst of times, and never get out.

Figure out who you want to be.

Figure out how you want to live.

Figure out what you want to write.

And then make it so with your effort, your determination, and your intelligence.

I could have let my career die any number of times when things were bad. Every series I ever wrote got cancelled prematurely. Having that happen ONCE has killed a lot of careers.

I found ways to remake myself, remake my writing, change genres, change from fiction to non-fiction. I have ALWAYS gotten paid. I have ALWAYS paid the bills (though sometimes it’s been scary).

And there’s always some dick-head saying from now one, no one will pay for whatever it is you do.

You know what?

There’s all sorts of free information on writing on the internet. Why are you paying to be here? (ED.: In my writing class.)

Because the information you pay for from recommended sources is better than the stuff that’s free.

Same with fiction. People will pay to read something good. The folks who just want “free” are willing to put up with a lot of crap. Let ’em have it.

The folks who steal wouldn’t have bought your work anyway.  They’re thieves.  They’re scum.  They LIKE what they are. Screw ‘em.

Be good enough to get paid, and the people worth dealing with will pay you.  

And with that, you come full circle. This is why you’re here. To learn THAT.

And how do you know when you’re good enough to get paid?

When you put your work out there, and the first person pays you, then recommends you to one other reader.

This is not the end of publishing. This is the beginning of publishing the way it should be.

And some additional info.  Most people have abandoned newspapers.  But there are individuals making tens of thousands of dollars a month independently publishing single-topic newsletters.

Long-tail publishing will probably destroy the multi-million copy bestseller.  But word of mouth works, folks, and if people like your work, they’ll tell friends.  You can make a living by writing for your readers, LISTENING to them, and creating things that matter to both them and you.

Corporations that rely on manufacturing (like print book publishers) are going to have a hell of a time surviving.

In the wake of their passing, agile individuals have the opportunity to step up and make their own places.  I’ve been doing this since 2006 now.

You can’t be lazy and succeed.

 

But you can succeed.

Discussing “I’ve quit Big Publishing” to publish myself
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"I Quit!"

"I Quit!"

Below is the start of an article that’s been a long time coming.

After years of publishing my publishing my fiction through big commercial publishers, with thirty-two novels sold to the big New York houses as well as to international publishers around the planet, and more than a million books in print, I have decided to move to self-publishing my fiction.

Why am I going to start publishing myself?

First, because books don’t stay in print anymore with major publishing houses, and my 32-novel backlist has just about vanished.

Second, because I know self-publishing works, and doing this will allow me to write the books I want to write the way I want to write them, and present my stories to my readers without an intermediary.

Read the rest, then follow the link there to come back here…

I imagine it seems a little crazy to walk away from twenty years of publishing with the major New York publishers to go into indie publishing and do all the work myself.

The thing is, as fun as it is to walk into a bookstore and see your novels on the shelf, the rest of the experience gets old fast. Prior to reading Locke’s book on self-publishing, I was going round and round with myself about giving up on fiction altogether.

I was already publishing non-fiction (my writing courses), and the experience was FUN.  And all the frustration, headaches, and fury associated with my fiction career stood in stark contrast to me being able to talk live to my students in a forum, get immediate feedback on work, and, frankly, get paid regularly.

But I LOVE writing fiction.  I didn’t want to quit—I simply didn’t see a way to make it fun again.  To make it as immediate and joyful for me to create as my nonfiction.

When I read Locke’s book, I saw myself.  Someone who does not care about the numbers, who is not interested in constantly pushing for more readers, who wants only to write stories people love and to get them to the people who will love them.

Being a “team player” has never been my strong suit.  Not school, not in nursing, not in writing.  I’m not writing for everybody, and I’m not interested in pretending I am.  I want to write for the folks who already love what I’m doing, not to have someone constantly push me to make my work blander, safer, and more commercial so it will appeal to people who don’t like what I’m doing.

I was BORN to be indie.  And now I can.

I hope you’ll join this adventure with me.

 

Discussing “Fun…With Teeth”
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Fun...With Teeth

Fun...With Teeth

Back when I first got published, I signed a lot of my books with a little extra exuberance—I drew a toothy smiley face and wrote in under it the words “Fun…With Teeth.”

Which was how I saw my fiction—I always wanted my readers to laugh, but I wanted some real edge in there, too.

Because, let’s face it. Sometimes I want to scare your socks of.

As the wear and tear of publishing (and some pretty hard times in my life) began to get to me, I lost some of that exuberance. All of my books have funny places in them, but with some of them, you have to wade through a whole lot of darkness to find it.

But when I decided to walk away from the meat grinder that is professional publishing, to deal directly with my readers, and to publish my own work, something strange happened. It was as if someone switched on a light inside me.

I was digging through my early works, the ones for which rights have reverted to me, and I discovered how funny some of those early books were.

I’d forgotten. From cats with hands who liked to play with matches to winged horses with bad brakes to a Miata-driving, beer-swilling dragon to infesting the entire state of North Carolina with the denizens from Hell (to the serious detriment of Hell), I had a lot more fun back then.

I want to find my way back to that.

I’d like to have you share a part of my return to laughter. In my case, laughter with really big, sharp, pointy teeth.

In the next couple of months, as I start getting my reverted novels converted into digital and print versions and moved onto platforms like Kindle and iBooks and Nook, I’m going to put together a little private membership site especially for the folks who like my fiction. You’ll have a bulletin board there where you can talk to each other, and tell me what characters you’ve missed and who you want to read about next, as well as a place where I’ll post some snippets of work in progress, cover images, and news about each book as I release it.

I don’t know what else I’ll put in there. But it’ll be free, and I’ll make sure to include some nice surprises from time to time.

Here’s the place to ask questions, offer your wish list, comment on my radical career change…

I’m glad you’re here.

Why I’m Deleting My Facebook Account
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Today, nearly a week after a Lulzsec/Lulz Security hack resulted in my Facebook page being hacked by jackasses who sent awful spam to nearly a thousand of my students, friends, and family members before I could get the page blocked, Facebook finally got back to me on my account.

Hi Holly,

Your account was suspended because one or more photos you uploaded [my emphasis, not theirs] violated Facebook’s Statement of Rights and Responsibilities. This content has been removed from the site. After reviewing your situation, we reactivated your account.

[Some content snipped for being a form e-mail totally irrelevant to my situation]

You may now log in. For technical and security reasons, we cannot provide you with a description or copy of the removed content. Learn more about our policies by reviewing the Facebook Community Standards: www.facebook.com/communitystandards/

We apologize for any inconvenience and appreciate your cooperation going forward.

Thanks for your understanding,

Cedric
User Operations
Facebook

—–Original Message to Facebook—–
From: Holly Lisle (hdl@hollylisle.com)
To: The Facebook Team
Subject: Re: My Personal Profile was Disabled

Since my site is one of those that was hacked by Lulzsec/Lulz Security, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out the problem promptly.

Thank you.

Holly Lisle

So, first…a word to Facebook:

Don’t thank me for being understanding, Cedric. I’m not the least bit understanding about this. My page was HACKED. You’re still blaming me.

But now, what really matters

When I got back into my site, I had one thing, and only one thing, I wanted to accomplish. I wanted to apologize to each and every person who’d received spam from from the Lulzsec/Lulz Security hackers through my account.

I wanted to say “I’m very sorry you were spammed in the worst imaginable way by someone purporting to be me, and I’m very sorry I had no way to contact you when all of this was going on to let you know it was NOT me doing this, and that as it was going on, I was fighting as hard as I could to make it stop.”

What I discovered instead was that all my friends, family members, students, and others were gone. I had no way to contact them to apologize for the awful content they’d received from the hackers.

I was completely alone on my defaced, ruined, still-pornographic page.

Here’s what I discovered about Facebook.

If you’re on Facebook, Facebook owns you. They own your information, they own your contacts, they own your family members, they own your mailbox, they own whatever you create on the site. And in an instant they can take it away, and you cannot get it back. You have no other way to contact friends you connect with through the site but the way they offer you—so all the people you love can disappear out of your reach in an instant’s notice, through no fault of your own.

If you friended me on Facebook, I’m very sorry I could not reach you. I’ll apologize here and hope anyone who knows me from both Facebook and my weblog, mailing list, or Twitter, will pass this along so the people I care about, with whom I have once again lost contact, will at least know where to find me if they want to.

I will not go back to Facebook.

When I realized I could not reach the people I needed to reach to apologize, I immediately requested the page be deleted permanently.

In fourteen days, everything connected to my account will be off Facebook permanently.

I will not be part of anything that exercises that sort of control over people’s information and lives, and that does so in such an irresponsible, cavalier, and incompetent fashion.

If you have people on the site you don’t know how to reach in any other way, fix that today. Exchange phone numbers, exchange real email addresses, set up a place where you can contact each other independently of Facebook’s closed network.

Don’t assume that Facebook will be there for you, that the system will work the way it should, that if you live by their terms of service, Facebook will back you up.

Don’t end up where I am. It’s an ugly place to be.

Writing Projects Gone Weird: or, Saturday, I Knit A Cat
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KnitCat Stares at Nothing

KnitCat Stares at Nothing

The migraines and vertigo are back with a vengeance, and I’m stuck in horizontal mode (laptop propped on lap and lying down as I write this, in fact).

KnitCat Naps

KnitCat Naps

So Saturday, I dragged out some cotton string (a very nice German variegated yarn), and needles, and did one of the few things that doesn’t make me feel worse when this gets as bad as it is right now.

I knitted.

I’m doing this odd secret project on my day off—a writing project so weird when I first explained why I was knitting sweaters for balls of yarn, my husband got this look in his eyes that asked “do I commit her, or grab the kid and run for the hills?”

And this project calls for a cat.

KnitCat watches Mad Men

KnitCat watches Mad Men

A tiny, agile, clever cat.

So I got out light-gauge florist wire and narrow green florist tape and built an armature. And then I knit around the armature, ripping back when anything happened that didn’t look like a cat, filling with yarn stuffing as I went.

KnitCat looks Regal

KnitCat looks Regal

No pattern, no picture, no guidelines—I remembered my various cats over the years and worked from that. It took me about ten hours over the course of the day to finish him.

KnitCat hears food hit a bowl

KnitCat hears food hit a bowl

When I was done, I showed him to my husband and son, who had seen me knitting around green armature all day, and who hadn’t seen anything particularly catlike in the blob I was making. Both of them were a little creeped out by how much of a cat he became when I started posing him.

I was a bit, too. I hadn’t expected scrap yarn and wire to turn out quite so well—and now that I see him, I’m getting a feel for his character and the role he’s going to play in my secret project.

KnitCat fights the Mighty Husband

KnitCat fights the Mighty Husband

So what’s this project? Well, it’s fiction, but it’s about writers and writing. And KnitCat is a good representative for what I’m doing. Beyond that, I’m not ready to say anything, except this project will be available for free—it’s my playtime—and should be a nice complement to other things I’ve created to help writers.

KnitCat leaves to search for adventure

KnitCat leaves to search for adventure

As for other things, even though I’m currently bedridden (well, couch-ridden) I did manage to get work done on both TalysMana and the HTTS Walkthrough. I’m doing the plot outline for The Emerald Sun.

And I’m hoping I’ll at least be able to sit up at some point this week, so that I’ll be able to do the Hotseat interview for the Walkthrough.

Anyway… have you ever done anything as weird as knitting a cat to get to the heart of a story?

Where I am right now
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I apologize for my absence. The last few weeks have been hard.

I’ve been back to full-time vertigo and full-time migraines, and though I know this is nothing life-threatening, it is damned difficult to work through. I’m doing my best, I’m still producing the HTTS Walkthrough, and Margaret and I are worknig hard on the transfer of all my courses to NovelWritingSchool.com, but other things have slowed down a lot.

And then a couple days ago my computer died, and it’s taken me that time to pull the part of my backups that would fit on my laptop and get more or less up and running again.

I hope to have my main computer back in a day or so, and to have everything back to normal in that regard by next week. (Right now I only have access to some of my software, and some of my records. There simply isn’t room on the hard drive of my older computer for everything I’m using now.)

I’ll do my best to start posting in here again, and to pick up the threads on TalysMana and WABWM. Once I have the site transfer finished and am no longer working such awful hours, I expect the headaches and vertigo to taper off. They did the last time I had some down time.

I miss being here. I’ll be back again as soon as I can.

Update, and moving on
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I want to thank everyone who e-mailed me or posted here offering condolences on the closing of Rebel Tales. And I’d like to reassure folks who were concerned that my closing Rebel Tales meant Kirsten Anderson/Kate Ferreri/whateverthehell-her-name-really-is had somehow “won” that they need not worry. She hasn’t won anything.

At the point where I discovered I had created something that could be badly misused, by discovering someone who had already misused it, I had two choices. I could pretend it could never happen again, or I could face the truth that if it had happened once, it WOULD happen again.

Yes, closing Rebel Tales is a huge loss for me in many ways, both financially and in terms of losing something I loved. It is a heartbreaking blow for the editors I actually did choose and for the writers they chose— though as I write this, there is a possibility some good may still come from this for them, anyway.

But if I decided to preserve my investment rather than my integrity, I wouldn’t be worth much as a human being.

I made the human choice. The moral choice. Not the dollars-and-cents choice. I closed Rebel Tales because it was the right thing to do.

I spent yesterday in a sick-to-my-stomach blue funk. I shed my tears. I’m done with that.

Now I’m moving on.

I still have fallout to deal with in terms of working to prevent Kirsten Anderson/ Kate Ferreri from profiting from her actions.

But I have a couple of promised courses to deliver, and a book to write, and deadlines to meet. I hope to be able to put the stand-alone version of How To Write Your Series on sale tomorrow.

My final word on this?

Life kicks you. So what? If it doesn’t kill you, you stand up and get back to living.

Rebel Tales has closed.
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Due to the nature of the actions taken by Ms. Ferrari, and to how these actions reflect both on Rebel Tales and on me, and because I cannot guarantee that some other person will never misrepresent himself and his actions while using my name and the name of Rebel Tales as cover for wrongdoing, I have made the decision to close Rebel Tales permanently.

I have not made this decision lightly—I have taken consultation and come to the conclusion that this is the only viable decision I can make. I do so with a heavy heart.

I apologize to everyone who held the same hopes I had for this endeavor.

I hope someone else will pick up the banner to create a new midlist for writers.

Holly Lisle