I find this really amusing – my Kindle is now dog-eared.
I don’t mind a bit. It seems right to me that my Kindle should look like my paper books – well-used and a bit tattered from being carted about hither and yon. I’ve had it for coming up on three years now and I still love it.
Last night we did drinks and dinner with another couple to celebrate David’s birthday and the gal was asking me about my experiences with e-publishing. She wanted to know if I *could* get paper copies of my books. I told her it varies with my contracts, but I vaguely recall that the Carina contract promises me some bound paper copies for promotional purposes, but I’d have to look at it again to be sure. And, if the book sells well or seems likely to do well in print, they have the right to do that. Which is why they call it “digital-first” publishing.
“But if you ever decided to have these books published, you could, right?” she asked.
“They are published,” I tell her.
“Right. But if you wanted to have them really published, so you could hand a copy to your mother or something – could you do that?”
I didn’t mention that my lovely mother has a Kindle of her own.
It will be interesting to see how long this notion of “really published” lasts. She seemed to think I’d be longing for the validation of a print book. And, to be fair, I know plenty of authors – especially ones looking to get their first book published – who really want that. They make what I think are dubious decisions between publishing houses, because they want print books, too.
This is not something I care about.
I have a print book. (Wyoming Trucks, True Love and the Weather Channel) It’s very pretty; it has many stars on Amazon. Book resellers will nearly pay you to take it. I’ve sold in the neighborhood of twice as many copies of Petals and Thorns, which apparently doesn’t really exist, as they ever printed of Wyoming Trucks.
If that sounds like I’m bitter, I’m really not. It’s all well and good to have a hardbound university press book and have people say lovely things to you about it. But having people actually read what I write is far more rewarding.
It doesn’t get any more real than that.
Love the ding on your Kindle. (Hey, wait…that sounds kind of dirty, doesn't it? Huh. Well, I like that, too.)
I'm with you re digital and paper publishing — to me, the important thing is that people will read my book, in whatever format they want. TBH, I do most of my reading on my Kindle now, anyway — it's just so darn convenient.
I'm with you and Linda – getting the book in front of an audience is the most important part. Like I've said before, a book is a collaborative process between the author and the reader. And ya gotta be in front of the reader to make the magic happen.
Great post, Jeffe. I feel there are so many like your friend who just doesn't get it. But they will. Someday. 🙂
I'd love to know how you got that nick on your Kindle. Good story, I hope? Something like knocking your friend (by accident) upside her head, perhaps? LOL!
Jenn!
I used to think I wanted nothing more than to get traditionally published and have a solid book in my hands to prove it but the more I read (both physical and digital books) the more I realise that I don't care how people read my work, just that one day they will be reading it.
Well said!
Linda – that *does* sound dirty. Too funny!
Amen, Laura. And we want the magic.
Thanks Jennifer! The story of the ding is not at all interesting. I drop it from time to time and, despite the cover, the little impacts add up. It keeps crumbling bit by bit.
So true, Tamara! I think that's a very healthy way to look at it.
Thanks Chudney!