Ding Dong.

It’s the end of the year. Time to ring out 2019 and ring in 2020. Time to look back and time to look ahead. Time to take stock of our lives—or, in my case here, the writing life.

 No new books with my name on the spine were released in 2019, save the large-print edition of my November 2018 novel Father unto Many Sons.

I am tempted to defend myself by saying I haven’t spent the year just sitting on my butt. Then it occurred to me that sitting on their butts is exactly what writers do. A lot.

During all that sitting on my butt in 2019, I worked with Five Star Publishing to get Pinebox Collins ready for April 2020 release, and working on getting a second novel, A Thousand Dead Horses, ready for November release.  

A third novel, And the River Ran Red, is awaiting publication, most likely in 2021. A fourth novel, All My Sins Remembered, is also in Five Star’s hands.

Late in 2019, Five Star released an anthology, Hobnail and Other Frontier Stories, which includes my short story, “The Times of a Sign.” And I worked with editors Nancy Plain and Rachelle “Rocky” Gibbons on a chapter for Go West: Seldom-Told Stories from History, a nonfiction anthology for young readers that Two Dot will publish in 2021. My piece is titled “Earl Bascom and His Bronc-Bustin’ Brothers: Fathers of Modern Rodeo.”

I also managed to write a magazine article for Cowboys & Indians; another for Range magazine; a feature article, a column, and a poem for Saddlebag Dispatches; and a book review for True West magazine. And, Grits McMorrow reprinted several of my essays on writing poetry in his Minnekahta eMessenger.

If I weren’t so lazy, I would get more done. Maybe in 2020….

But for now, back to sitting on my butt.

Lies They Tell Writers, Part 38: You, too, can be a best-selling author.

We once addressed the “lie” that nobody reads anymore. The fact is, people are reading. Which brings up the question many (most) writers ask: “Why aren’t they reading my books?” The question persists, despite the many times writers (including me) have been shoveled tons of advice at workshops and conferences and elsewhere about how to become a best-selling author.

It can happen. It does happen. But, like most good fortune in life, the odds are against you. A writer friend of mine who had a novel turned into an Academy Award-winning movie likened that success to “being struck by benevolent lightning.”

The fact is, lightning may not strike you. Or me. Here are several million reasons why. 

Berrett-Koehler Publishers (a company I know nothing about or have any connection with) compiled some telling statistics about books and publishing from several sources. I’ve borrowed from their work here.

Of late, traditional publishers are cranking out about 300,000 books a year. Last year, some 700,000 books were self-published by their authors. That’s a million brand new books. And that’s on top of 13 million existing books still on the market, with more added every year.

So your new book (and mine) is competing for attention with at least 14 million other books. There are things you can do—or try—to get noticed. And you’ll likely sell some books.

Chances are, you might sell enough be invited to speak at a writers conference and tell other writers how they can be a best-selling author like you.

I’ve been invited to speak at many writers conferences—but never, ever, on that topic.

Maybe someday.

Lies They Tell Writers, Part 18—Get an Agent.

The writing world has changed. And I am of the opinion that most of those changes have diminished the importance of the literary agent.

Not so many years ago, a writer had to be represented by a literary agent to have any chance of getting published by a reputable firm. To some extent, that’s still the case—certain imprints of the international publishing conglomerates turn their noses up at direct submissions. Queries from authors are lucky to earn a rejection. Most often, they are simply ignored.

But there are many, many small, medium-sized, and even large publishing houses more than happy to deal directly with writers. And, of course, there are innovations like digital publishing and e-books that essentially bypass the traditional publishing process—including agents.

So, does an aspiring author need an agent? I would never say it’s a bad idea, assuming you can hook up with one who’s reputable and recognized. On the other hand, I don’t think it’s necessary. I have managed to publish books with ten or so publishers, from fairly large ones to teeny-tiny ones, all with nary an agent in sight. And at least a few of those publishers had stated policies of not accepting un-agented submissions.

Of course my ability to evaluate contracts is lacking compared to the expertise of an agent. And, if I were overwhelmed with keeping track of royalties and subsidiary rights and such, I’m sure an agent would come in handy.

So far, however, my misdirected, misguided, and mismanaged literary career doesn’t require a whole lot of the skill or savvy an agent might provide.

Come to think of it, that might be the problem….

Lies They Tell Writers, Part 15: Establish a Niche.

Like a low-rent lout, I say it “nitch.” Highfalutin folks pronounce it “neesh.”

However you say it, if you’re a writer you’re supposed to find one, crawl inside, and close the lid. That’s how successful writers do it, they’ll tell you.

Writers who sell lots of books establish a loyal following by giving readers what they expect. When they see your name on the cover of a new book, having read other books by you, they have a pretty good idea of what’s inside—it’s a shoot-’em-up Western novel, because that’s what you write. Or a romance novel. A mystery. Science fiction. A thriller. History. Scholarly biography. Or whatever your “niche” is.

Establishing a niche leads to success for a writer, they say. 

And they’re probably right.

No lie, this time, to my way of thinking. Because if there’s one subject I am well versed in, it’s how not to be a successful writer.

There are, no doubt, myriad reasons for that. One of which is my lack of a niche. Everything I write is related to the West, but after that it’s all over the place. Novels that bear little resemblance to one another. Nonfiction on a variety of historic subjects. Poetry of the Western and cowboy type. Short stories in several styles.

Because of all that, my name on the cover of a book doesn’t say much about what’s inside.

So in the future, from now on, henceforth and forever, I am going to establish a niche and stop writing things that don’t fit.

At least that’s the lie I keep telling myself.

Lies They Tell Writers, Part 10: Getting Published Should Not Be Your Goal.

Some people will tell you—in writing workshops, classes, conferences—that getting published should not be your goal. That you should write for the love of it, and not worry if what you’ve written is ever read by anyone else.

There may be some merit in that point of view if what you’re writing is a personal or family history meant only to be left as a legacy. Other than that, I don’t buy it. Why would you write if not to be read? That seems to me to be the whole point. If you’re not read, are you even a writer? I don’t think so.

There are those who say the sheer act of writing makes you a writer. How so? Compare it to, say, an interest in plumbing. Sure, you can play around with pipes and wrenches and fittings all you want. You can even take a course and get a certificate in plumbing. You can buy all the tools and equipment. And you can take a lot of enjoyment and personal satisfaction from it all. But until someone hires you, and pays you, to pound on their pipes you are not a plumber. Not really.

I don’t see writing as all that different. Putting words on paper is the beginning of being a writer, not the end. Because if those words aren’t published, aren’t made available to other eyes, they might as well not exist.