I love my one-star reviews on Amazon. I’ve had four of them, so far, and treasure their insightful comments. None of the four has reviewed any other books. Not that I’m suggesting a personal agenda!
The book in question, Burn, Baby, Burn, has sold over 60,000 copies this year, so only four 1* reviews ‘aint bad.
Interesting to see two reviews side by side. Have the commentators even read the book? If so, have they read the same book?
Here’s one comment. (I’ve not corrected the punctuation, etc) ’
‘This book really un-nerved me, pure evil. I only read 13 per cent of the book with great difficulty, then I gave up. I still shudder at the thought of the callousness of the character. I did not pay much for it but have vowed never to read anything by Jake Barton again.’
Too nasty, eh? Let’s see the next comment.
‘this is a terrible and badly written book about as frightening as noddy books and with less suspense than famous 5. dreadful characterisation struggling to finish it. avoid.’
Hmm! Make your minds up!
Bless them for taking so much trouble. I really appreciate it.
In a different vein, I’m off on my travels tomorrow – a three-day trip to that there Lunnun. Not the investiture at the palace, that’s not for months yet, but to see a very persistent publisher. He represents one of the ‘Big Six’ as they’ve taken to calling themselves, in rather grandiose fashion, and is ridiculously keen for me to join his ‘stable’ of writers. Having seen the household names he already publishes, this ‘stable’ would appear to be entirely composed of thoroughbreds, with presumably room for one old donkey, one hoof away from the knackers’ yard.
Lunch at The Savoy then, fresh from its £200 million restoration so should be adequate! I’m open-minded about this. I am, really. Of course, I know it’s an opportunity. A big opportunity. I spoke to a man who’s desperate to be my agent recently and he was suitably impressed that one of the ‘Big Six’ was pressing me for a meeting. Everybody tells me what a chance I have here and yet, and yet… I’m not sure about all this. Do I want to be nothing else but a writer? I’ve never thought of myself as a writer before.
I just sold my 65,000th book this year, but I don’t even bother to look at the sales figures any more. Not for months and months. That moment has passed. Yes, I get cheques every month, which is nice, but I didn’t start to write just to make money. Not really. Of course, I wanted to be read, but money has never been my motivation for doing anything.
My wife says, ’go and listen to what he has to say. Keep an open mind.’ I already know what she thinks I should do, but she’ll leave it to me to decide.
I’m stressed out already. That’s not good. It’s not me either. I don’t ‘do’ stress.
Roll on Wednesday, I say. Get it over with.
Jake, stop being such a jessie and commit! Writing is what you do, whether you do it for money or otherwise. Formalising that has already happened with the e-books, Amazon etc. This is just the natural next stage – the “more of the same” but better. The worst that can happen is you sell more books, make more money, gain more readers and get more of those reviews you love so much. It’s life-enhancing, not life-limiting. Go to lunch, order the game pie and enjoy the experience – few will ever get the invite.
I truly do NOT know what I would do were I in your position. This would have been something I craved years back, and maybe, at my deepest core, still crave. But if I had got to the point where I no longer look at sales figures, then perhaps that would be very different. Because if neither sales nor the cheques meant anything other than mild interest, then that would tell me something important about how I felt about the whole shebang. We are very different people.
Anyway, whatever you choose, I wish you the very best of it.
x
Aw, Jake, I wish I could say something funny, but I can’t. You have my sympathy. The last thing I was interested in when I wrote my novel was money; just to have my book accepted for publication & read by others, was, and still is enough. People say, have you made some money then – and look aghast when I say, I don’t know, probably get a cheque sometime. I don’t write for money.
Whatever you decide to do will be right, Jake. Do you really need an agent though? I’d think hard about that one. Don’t think they do a great deal – apart from take a big chunk & push you to write more & more for their own sake! #AmSarcasticBitch. The world of publishing is no longer about literature for literature’s sake, I’m afraid. It’s a greedy, money-grabbing business with no soul; and that saddens me.
Anyway, you old bugger, whatever you do, don’t forget we’ll still love yer! Liz XX
I think this is incredibly exciting and hope you have a fabulous time at the Savoy. I hope you can enjoy everything the meeting offers even if it’s just a fabulous lunch and an enjoyable chat.
But you are a writer already, dear Jake, whatever you may think and however much you want to resist this truth. But you ask, “Do I want to be nothing else but a writer?” when of course you’ll never be ‘nothing else but a writer’. You are already so much more than just a writer, which is probably why this publisher is going to enjoy his lunch as much as I hope you enjoy yours.
As for joining his stable of writers, I don’t think it matters whether you do or don’t. People already love your books and that’s not gonna change. As long as no one tries to rein you in, it might be an enriching experience to have an eager band of professional editors and marketing experts (‘cos we all know you don’t do marketing) behind you. Like your wife says: ’go and listen to what he has to say. Keep an open mind.’ Looking from the outside in, you’re an easy person to believe in.
Forget stress … breathe … believe.
x
Funny isn’t it the thought of a meeting with a “big” publisher in The Savoy sounds like the stuff of dreams for a great many people but here you are and I do truly believe that you are unsure about it all. I can understand your disquiet, is it the thought that maybe you will lose control of your life, your output and your characters – I think that would be my worry anyway (not that there’s any chance of it happening I hasten to add) Anyway, the best of luck and may it all work out the way that you want it to. I am sure it will because at the end of the day you are old enough and wise enough not to have your head turned easily – Will you? Enjoy the lunch anyway, order something expensive.
I’m with Diane here, up to a point. You should certainly order something expensive. But I suppose I’m still of the opinion that the decision is a bit of a no-brainer.You’ve explored the fun and frolics of DIY, of publishing straight to Kindle, of writing freely and without any form of editorial interference. But might you find yourself regretting taking the decision not to explore the fun and frolics of a different way of doing things? What’s the worst that could happen? (Let’s face it, whatever may result from you trying out one of life’s most strange experiences – siging to a major fiction publisher – you know it won’t be the worst that can happen…)
Loving your donkey analogy!
What I would do is go to the bloody Savoy and have a free feed, even if the publisher turns out to be a bit of a tit. Better still, take a big holdall and scrape whatever you can into it, like a doggy bag on steroids. Then steal the cutlery. This is the excellent modus operandi of pretty much everyone in my family, including myself, at all weddings, christenings and bar-mitzvahs. If they still want to sign you after this, then you know this is a professional marriage made in heaven and they won’t mind when you get pissed at the publisher’s Xmas do and barf the vol-au-vents into the company cheese plant.