Psst! Wanna be Rich and Famous?

Another Christmas over and done with. Being married to a great cook has its advantages and I often tell my wife how lucky she is! Oh, come on, you didn’t really think I meant me, did you? I’m not a bad cook, but my role is strictly ‘eater-in-chief’ and suits me very well. Perhaps too well at times.

We’ve spent Christmas Day in some odd places over the years. On beaches, on mountain tops, in any number of different houses, on our own or in the company of friends and family. No offence intended but spending Christmas with just the two of us beats any other version hands down. This year it was just us. Perfect. Well, not quite perfect as I’ve been wrestling with a dilemma for a few weeks now.

Not any more.

For that Jake Barton bloke, it’s been a funny old year. My wife rarely calls me Jake, even though it’s the name I use exclusively on our travels. She usually calls me by my former adopted name, Jared, and my actual, real, given, not been used for donkey’s years name rarely gets a look in. Never liked it much anyway. Whatever it is, or was!

That aside, there’s no disputing Jake Barton, the alleged writer, has had a good year. As the year draws to a close I’ve returned to Amazon and counted up book sales. It’s just over 66,000 paid sales in the UK alone and another 7,000 of my ‘free’ book. ‘Burn, Baby, Burn’ hit the Amazon Top Ten for a while and stayed in the Top 100 for 178 days, almost six months.

When the year began I never anticipated anything like this. My book barely sold a copy until mid-March so those sales figures relate to nine months of 2011. All this despite my complete inability to understand ‘marketing’ or find a means of publicising my books that I didn’t regard as tasteless self-promotion. Success in spite of my efforts, it’s fair to say!

One of the most interesting aspects of demonstrating an ability to sell books in high numbers was the sudden attention of agents and publishers; all keen to enter into dialogue with a proven successful author. Saying ‘no thank you’ to most of these people was pay-back time for the numerous rejections I’ve had along the rocky road of writing novels.

I didn’t dismiss the attention of everybody. An agent I’d fought hard to attract 18 months ago, and been rejected for my pains, came back to me again after ‘reconsidering.’ They’re a good firm with many blue chip clients and I’ve now had two lengthy meetings with the top man. I like him, we get on well and he rates me as a writer. Do I need an agent? I seem to have managed without one so far. I asked him what he could have done to better my existing sales. He shrugged his shoulders and said ‘not much, in fairness.’ I like that. I like honesty.

E-Books are the new kid on the block and most agents and publishers have yet to come to terms with the phenomenon. My agent ‘friend’ admits the ‘Indie’ writer can find success by their own efforts, retain their entire royalties and earn more money as an unknown writer than would be possible in all but a handful of cases under the traditional system. Taking the next step is where an agent, a good publisher may become necessary. I can see the sense in that. We’re still in touch.

As for publishers, I like the intimate nature of the interaction between author and publisher one finds in the ‘boutique’ firms and was seriously tempted by a small company run by people I’d met on the writers’ site, Authonomy. They’re good people, well-intentioned and I’m still keeping them in mind.

The situation changed with an approach from one of the big boys. They’re a company with few rivals in the publishing world and a raft of household names in their ‘stable.’ I’ve now met the UK head honcho twice. The most recent meeting was in London a couple of weeks ago. He wined and dined me at the Savoy – a good start – and we talked over all the ramifications of entering into partnership.

On the occasion of our previous meeting, he’d stressed the manner in which his company could ease my path to fame and fortune. I told him I wasn’t interested in either. Not the greatest start.

This time, replete from a wonderful meal in the Savoy, at my request we concentrated on the nuts and bolts of a partnership. Specifically, what the company could do for me and their expectations in return. They were happy enough for me to retain all interests in e-Books and would concentrate on taking my existing and future novels – but not the book of ‘snippets which was a special case – and bringing their influence to bear on bookstore sales in UK and the US, in particular. An advance was mentioned against my next book, the author’s share of sales would be consistent with the accepted rates in the industry and there would be further discussions at a later date if or when foreign language rights became an issue.

So far so good, then? Well, yes and no. My wife’s last words before departing to browse the shops of Covent Garden were ‘make sure you fight our corner and be the awkward bugger you’ve always been.’

I did that. With bells on.

The expectations on myself wouldn’t have concerned most people. They wanted me to do book signings, tour around making personal appearances, go on TV and radio when necessary and give interviews. Most writers accept that as part of the deal. Fair enough. My biggest selling point is my background. I know that and I can see the advantages for a publicity machine. My problem is that I shun publicity, always have, and am reticent to divulge any more than the few snippets about my former employment I’ve so far allowed into the public domain. Even when advised the ‘Official Secrets’ aspect could be ‘worked around’ I was somewhat dubious.

Leaving that aside, for now, we moved on to what would be expected from me as a writer. In essence, a book a year, scaled down to a little leeway in the time scale, but ‘at least four or five books in the next five years’. These would be crime thrillers, in the same vein as my existing books. I mentioned an interest in writing a Historical novel. The reply was ‘if what you do now works, keep it going.’ Hmm!

There was more, much more, most of which I’ll keep to myself, but I agreed to go away and think about my ‘future plans’ over Christmas.

I’ve taken this seriously. Spent two hours with a lawyer exploring all the ramifications of a contract that may be common to the industry but had elements of ‘ownership, that required qualification.

Making ‘future plans’ is almost as daunting as being ‘rich and famous.’ I’ve done what I, well make that ‘we’ as my wife has final veto on all decisions, wanted to do for twenty years. We’ve lived in exotic places, pleased ourselves, travelled around the world whenever we felt like it. Renovating and selling property meant we had the funds to carry on doing as we pleased. Now, downsized massively, we’re just left with the bare bones. Everything we actually need and no more. Perfection for free spirits who like to wander. See different places. Meet new people. Experience different cultures art first hand.

Having an outsider tell me what to write, when to write it would be difficult. I’m not good at following orders. Never have been. My dad told me once I should have joined the army to learn how to take orders. After a moment’s thought, he added, ‘but that would only work if they allowed you to join as a Field-Marshall.’

I value my independence and resent being told what to do. Always have; always will.

If I want to go swanning off to the Sahara for a few months – which is exactly what I intend to do next – then I’ll go. I don’t want to traipse round W H Smiths signing books, or meeting my Editor to discuss changes he or she may wish to make to my next novel.

That’s another potential sticking point: having an Editor. As an ‘Indie’ writer, I write what I want to write. The words are all mine. The concept, the plot, the entire project is exactly how I see it. Not a melange of other people’s ideas and opinions. The cover is my own idea too. Although I may need a little help from my friends at times with the more technical aspects! I’m not claiming any literary expertise here; the very idea makes me want to laugh out loud, but if I spend the best part of a year in writing, tinkering with and polishing a 125,000 word book I want it to remain my book.

Another thought struck me recently. Suppose I want to do something else with those vast number of hours presently allotted to writing? Stop writing. For a while or permanently. Do other things.

As things stand – no problem. Tied into a contract – that’s tricky. I don’t want ‘writing’ to become ‘a job.’

You can see where this is going, can’t you? I’m either the biggest fool on the planet or I’ve made the right decision. So, it’s going to be ‘thanks, but no thanks’ and I’ve sent an email today to all interested parties. I’m happy and ready to set off into the desert for a few months with an uncluttered mind.

After the meeting at the Savoy I asked my wife if she’d write down what she thought I should do and keep it in an envelope. Today, I said, ‘I’m thinking I should turn them down.’ She produced her envelope, tore it open and handed the contents to me.

It read ‘Don’t even think of changing anything. We couldn’t be happier. We do what we want, when we want to do it. Money isn’t important and you’ve never given a toss about being ‘famous.’ Why change what we both know works so well for us. I vote NO.’

That’s that, then. Smiles all round here.