Blog | Page 39 | Busybird Publishing

Archives

Book Writing Boot Camp

October 15, 2015

How many times have you heard someone say that they’re going to write a book? Or how long have YOU been saying that you’re going to do it? We talk to so many people here at Busybird Publishing who tell us this, then end the conversation with, ‘One day I’ll finish it’ or ‘I don’t know how to end it’ and the most common, ‘I don’t have the time’.

Most of these excuses are just because humans are prone to procrastinate. There are many reasons for this procrastination. They range from laziness, fear of failure, fear of success, laziness, having no plan, lack of passion, and laziness.

Our aim at Busybird is to help people get past these excuses and actually achieve something that they can be proud of. Writing and publishing a book is a huge achievement that is very doable, given the right tools. It doesn’t matter what you are trying to create. You might have a whole lot of poems in a drawer somewhere, you might have been jotting down bits and pieces for a fantasy novel, or you might want to share a passion for collecting teapots. There are any number of ways to tell a story but sometimes guidance is required to put it into a cohesive structure and to create a timeline so that the project doesn’t go on for ten years.

This is why we have created our Book Writing Boot Camp program. This is an intensive one-day event that will help you map out your idea, plan the writing (you want your story to be worth reading), plan the publishing (for self-publishing or submitting to publishers) and market the finished book.

Here’s a list of dates when Boot Camp will be held:

There will be no excuses after this. Get your hiking boots on!

Blaise van Hecke
– The Book Chick

Buyer Beware

October 8, 2015

Something we experience frequently here are talking to authors who’ve self-published through a ‘partnership publisher’, but come away frustrated, and sometimes even in tears.

Okay, so the question is, what’s a partnership publisher?

A partnership publisher will charge an author a certain amount of money, and offer certain services, e.g. editing, layout, cover design. On top of that, some partnership publishers will upsell services, e.g. marketing. Unfortunately, a number of these partnership publishers are unscrupulous and offer no transparency.

To understand transparency, you have to understand your publishing options.

If you submit to a traditional publisher – e.g. Penguin, Allen & Unwin, Text – and they accept you, you incur no costs. They take all the financial risk upon themselves, will assign you an editor, layout your book, design your cover, and market it however they see fit. In return, you might receive an advance (a sum of money up front), and then royalties from each book sold – usually about 10 or 12 percent. Arguably, the boon in being accepted by a traditional publisher is the validation of being accepted, and the branding of having that publisher’s emblem on your book – usually a mark of quality.

Now what’s happened with some partnership publishers is they’re preying on naïve authors and claiming to operate on a model similar to traditional publishers. Usually, this is done when they ‘assess’ your book, and deem it worthy of publication. They make out this is similar (if not the same) as submitting to and getting accepted by a traditional publisher. The one difference is you pay for the assessment. Then they’ll flatter you, ‘accept’ you, and then talk about sharing costs to bring your book out into the world. Whether they contribute to costs is anybody’s guess, but it’s likely they don’t.

Think of this business model: you pay an exorbitant amount (usually ranging in the thousands). The partnership publisher then uses a portion of that money to subcontract professionals (e.g. an editor, a designer) at a flat – and often low – rate to work on your book, and they keep the rest. You then pay for the printing. The partnership publisher has no material investment in your book. It’s doubtful they care much about your book outside of the money it’s making them. The subcontractors will care, because this is their livelihood and they’ll want to do the best job possible. The partnership publisher, though?

If you’re paying to bring your book out into the world, then you’re self-publishing. Don’t let any partnership publisher convince you otherwise. It’s great to be told that you’ve been accepted, it’s validating, it’s flattering, and as a writer, it’s about the most blissful feeling you could experience, but you know what? These people would accept gibberish. That’s not to denigrate your writing. It’s just how they operate. They’re not interested in quality, they’re not interested in contributing to the literary community, they’re not interested in sharing your story with the masses and trying develop a readership for you. They only want your money. That’s it. If they did earn royalties through your book, that’s a bonus (for them). But even that’s double-edged. Likely they’ve made some insane claim on your royalties (e.g. 50 percent – and let’s not forget, they’ve invested nothing in its production, other than being a medium who subcontracts the help).

With these klaxons sounding, you’re probably thinking that these partnership publishers are disreputable, and they operate from the shadows. They don’t. They’re right in the open and seem upstanding. They advertise on a national (and sometimes international) scale in reputable magazines, feed off your inexperience, thrive off your insecurity, and exploit your ego. This makes them sound insidious. And some of them are. I cannot say this enough: they only want your money.

There’s nothing wrong with self-publishing. It had a stigma twenty or so years ago, because people were releasing anything, and at the time, self-published books looked self-published – the paper stock was wrong, the layout was clumsy, and the binding (looked) like it had been stuck together with a glue-gun in somebody’s garage. But the publishing industry and all the services contained therein have become cheap and accessible. You can release a book now that is physically indistinguishable from books being released by multimillion-dollar traditional publishers, and it’s inexpensive.

Just be aware who you go to if you self-publish. We hear so many of these horror stories – people giving up so much money, giving up their life savings, and getting little in return. It’s why we try to nurture authors who come to us. So find somebody reputable, who cares about your book, and cares about helping you try to make it the best book that it can possibly be. Find somebody who won’t make claims on your royalties and try to retain ownership over your work for their own benefit.

Don’t be blinded by those who’ll tell you what you want to hear, and obligate yourself to deals that’ll ruin you financially – especially if you’re banking on income from your book. Not a lot of writers make money from writing. Sorry. That’s just reality, wherever you publish. You might. It happens. But it’s rare. So don’t go all-in, and especially don’t go all in because you’re being told what you want to be told.

There’s a lot of good people out there.

Do your research and find them.

The Busybird Creative Fellowship Opens Today!

October 1, 2015

When you’re initially finding your way as a writer or artist, trial and error often shapes your path. You’re oblivious to literary communities and usually brimming with naivety. It’s natural. Like a child stumbling out into the world, unaware of all the dangers. And whilst experience is often a great educator, it can also set you back, if not discourage you.

So what do you do when you’re starting out? Especially if you really don’t know what’s out there? In all likelihood, unless you’re born into an artistic family or have artistic friends, there’s a good chance you’re not going to know about opportunities. You’ll simply think you’re a biggish fish in a big pond.

Courses and schooling are brilliant. You get to meet other writers and artists, make friends, create networks, and learn about what’s out there. You’ll also learn that the pond’s a little smaller than you might’ve originally conceived, and you’re not only a tiny fish, but one of just so many fishes.

The one issue with courses and schooling is the commitment. Not everybody can afford them – either financially, or in the time and energy that’s required. You can try shorter courses, if possible. Or join workshopping groups. Unfortunately, there’s no guarantee that any group will be amenable or informative. Some might be intimidating.

An avenue that Busybird Publishing has introduced is the Busybird Creative Fellowship, which has been designed purely with the fledgling writer or artist in mind. Applicants must have less than three short story/article publications or never have exhibited.

The winning applicant will receive:

actual cash ($500)
use of the Busybird Publishing studio gallery spaces
use of the Busybird team as mentors
free entry to any of our in-house workshops
discounted publishing services.

Whilst all the material goodies are great – and I’m sure everybody could imagine how they’d put those to use – it’s the mentoring which arguably is the most invaluable.

The Busybird Team are comprised of artists who can use their experience to guide you through the formative stages of your journey, and accelerate your development.

The Busybird Creative Fellowship is perfect for any writer or artist trying to find their way.

Applications can be obtained by clicking this link.

It’s Not a Marathon

September 24, 2015

We are writers. So what does that mean?

We write. Simple at that, really.

There can be a lot of build-up around ‘being a writer’ – it’s mostly harmless validation, if maybe a touch self-aggrandising at times. All the descriptor really means is that we define ourselves by creating content – by writing.

That’s easy to say. And it’s damn easy for us to advise you to ‘just write’ as a tell-all answer to every woe we have. Because prolificacy is a greater expectation now. Regular, reliable content: it’s the philosophy of the Information Age, a world where blogs need regular updates and ‘filler content’ is big business. Writers are under greater pressure to stay relevant – and, though some of you may dry-reach at the mere mention of the word, marketable.

Talking about ‘staying productive’ just sounds awful, like you’re forever running the hamster wheel. But it’s easy to get burned out, even when you’re doing what you love. Hopefully some of the advice given here can help prevent that burnout from happening and keep you produ—erm, passionate.

Writer’s block is as real as you allow it to be. I’ve spoken about this before. It’s often treated like a massive affliction, when it’s just a hiccup. Pounding your way through the Google search results for ‘curing writer’s block’ may seem like a good idea, but it’s also validating its existence as some kind of issue you can’t resolve. You can. Just relax and break everything down. It may not be instantaneous, but you’ll find your way through.

Let other people in. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s the last thing in the world you may want to subject yourself to. How you include other people in your life as a writer is entirely up to you – I’ve known people who have superstitions about discussing new work, or need to approach workshopping in a particular way – but whatever the case, just do it. The stereotype of the solitary writer may be popular, but it’s not exactly healthy.

Mix it up. Sometimes it’s just deadening to write the same stuff over and over again, to go through the same tasks without any apparent end. Even if it’s something you enjoy, variety is blah-blah you-know-the-rest. Jump across genres if you’re a fiction writer. Experiment with new ways to lay out your arguments or facts if you’re a columnist. Even a small sidestep can feel invigorating every once in a while.

Your routine needs both on and off time. It’s common to say that you need to block certain times of each day for writing. But never forget that you need time to just step away from the computer or notebook and, for the love of all that is sacred, do anything else. Have your modules of time for writing, but pad it out a little. No one expects you to run a marathon every single day. Which leads to the next point:

Sometimes, god damn it, you just need a break. Don’t beat yourself up for needing a breather. I know you do it. I do it. Everyone seems to do it nowadays. Leisure isn’t so much a guilty pleasure for many people as much as it’s simply a guilt-trip waiting to happen. Just treat it as leisure. Stop yourself from Facebooking about it beforehand or afterwards – that’s part of the negative process even if you dress it up as a joke. Take the break and enjoy it. That’s it. Then you’re back in the game, no regrets and no extra baggage.

When there are big projects like a novel you’re trying to power through, or just general freelancing, it can be hard to keep perspective. Never forget how important it is to keep that balance and keep yourself fresh. Keep looking after yourself.

Beau Hillier | Editor, page seventeen

Formatting and Punctuating Attributors

September 10, 2015

Something a lot of people struggle with is the punctuation and format of attributors. Attributors are the ‘he said’, ‘she asked’, ‘he shouted’, tags that precede or follow dialogue.

Arguably the mistake that people make most with attributors is this:

‘No, I don’t think that at all,’ Said Bob.

The attributor is always lowercase. Without exception.

‘No, I don’t think that at all,’ said Bob.

That also applies if the punctuation in the dialogue is an exclamation mark, question mark, or ellipsis.

‘No, I don’t think that at all!’ said Bob.

And:

‘Is that what you think?’ asked Bob.

And:

‘I’m not sure what I think …’ said Bob.

Despite the end punctuation in the dialogue, you need to look at the dialogue and the attributor as a singular sentence. Just as you wouldn’t have a word randomly Capitalised in a standard sentence, neither should the attributor be capitalised.

What if you use a full stop, though?

‘No, I don’t think that at all.’ Said Bob.

Surely, in this situation, you’d use a capital? No. This construction is a grammatical impossibility. An attributor cannot follow dialogue that ends with a full stop. Once the full stop is employed, you’re beginning a new sentence. So if you have something like the above, either change the full stop, or remove the attributor.

When attributors are employed, the only things capitalised are names.

‘No, I don’t think that at all,’ Bob said.

And proper nouns.

‘We should tax the use of attributors,’ the Liberal Party vowed.

And the pronoun ‘I’, which is capitalised as a matter of rule.

‘No, I don’t think that at all,’ I said.

Other pronouns are not capitalised.

‘Don’t capitalise!’ they shouted.

The exceptions (names, proper nouns, and the pronoun ‘I’) aside, this convention applies regardless of what follows.

‘Stop!’ most of them shouted.

And:

‘Are you following me?’ the choir sang.

When the attributor precedes dialogue, this is something we see often:

Bob said, ‘no, I don’t think that at all.’

Now, the dialogue begins with a lowercase letter. No. Dialogue should always begin with a capital. It’s the beginning of what somebody’s about to say.

Bob said, ‘No, I don’t think that at all.’

Something else we see often is something like this:

Here, the attributor is on one line, and the dialogue begins on the next. Dialogue should always be connected to its attributor.

I went out to the shops, and scoured the shelves. Elsie waited impatiently behind me, tapping her foot, so I said, ‘I’ll just be a minute.’

Or you could reformat this sentence entirely:

This has been touched on in previous blogs about dialogue, but always be aware of what is a legitimate attributor and what’s actually an action.

‘You can’t do that,’ I laughed.

And:

‘Oh, if you say so,’ you sigh.

A laugh is a sound of amusement. A sigh is an exhalation of breath. There are other examples. These sort of things are physical actions. At no point can they describe the way dialogue is articulated.

If you disagree, try it. Laugh a sentence at me. Laugh at me, ‘You are wrong.’ It’s impossible to do, without producing some singsong parody that would sound like a kookaburra singing. Sigh at me, ‘Oh, very well, if you’re going to browbeat me, I give up.’ How does that sound? These things are actions. They’re not the way somebody talks.

‘You can’t do that.’ I laughed.

And:

‘Oh, if you say so.’ You sigh.

Admittedly, the context and delivery of the verbs change here to the way they were intended when they were being used as attributors. Sometimes, simply flipping where the verbs appear can address this.

I laughed. ‘You can’t do that.’

And:

You sigh. ‘Oh, if you say so.’

If this doesn’t remedy the context, try finding another way to communicate your meaning. It’s writing. You can do anything. Except flagrantly break the rules because it’s the easiest solution. That’s not innovative. It’s just wrong.

Lastly, note that in all these examples, the punctuation separating the dialogue from the attributor is tucked inside the dialogue. It’s not:

‘I wonder where the comma should go’, Bob said.

Or:

‘Do you know where the question mark goes’? Bob asked.

It’s:

‘I wonder where the comma should go,’ Bob said.

And:

‘Do you know where the question mark goes?’ Bob asked.

There are times that the punctuation might sit outside quotation marks, but this usually occurs when somebody is being quoted, or partially quoted:

Bob had told me that he was confused about ‘the use of attributors’, and that he ‘was about to give up’.

Here, the punctuation belong to the narration, so it sits outside the quotation marks. When the punctuation belongs to the dialogue, it sits inside the quotation marks.

The formatting and punctuation of attributors is simple. Read any book and you’ll see how they’re done. The reality is when they’re done right, you don’t question it, you don’t even see it, instead unconsciously inferring the visual cues, which allows you to absorb whatever you’re reading. Do them wrong and people will stop and say, ‘Huh?’

And that’s when you lose them.

LZ.