Several months ago, the estate of my publisher emailed me tjhat my publisher died. His name was Jim Mafchir and he gave me my first shot in the publishing world. His press. Western Edge, carried my book, Butterfly Warrior, and those days were among the best of my career.
Over the years, I’ve learned that, for me, the best part of the book world is writing one. I write every day. I’m never lost for ideas or thoughts. I started this blog as a way to express all of those thoughts that seem to always buzz in my head.
Publishing a book is a lot harder. Working with Jim taught me that the editorial and publishing process requires focus and commitment that, to this day, I can’t fully convey. Writing late at night to meet some ridiculous deadline almost drove me nuts (I’m using “almost” kinda loosely). Jim and his editors were taskmasters, but he had his calendar and it meant the world to him that he kept to it.
Selling books once published, however, is the hardest part of the book world. I’m a horrible salesman. When I started with Jim, I figured that the publisher did a bunch of the promotion and selling and I thought the author just had to show up at gigs.
But that’s not at all the case.
I had to come up with a “platform” and have a marketing strategy that coincided with Western Edge’s. Plus, while there were readings, I often showed to “venues” that had ten empty chairs that would stay empty. Western Edge’s publicist expected me to do some of the promotion and that was a failed expectation.
Jim died, though. His estate explained to me that all books, rights, and options all reverted to me upon his passing. I had the option to allow the estate to destroy whatever copies remained, but there was no way I could allow my work to burn away. So, one recent and rainy Sunday, I met the estate representatives and collected ten (10) boxes that contained sixty (60) Butterfly Warrior Copies each.
I now have six hundred (600) books to sell.
I have no idea what I’m gong to do to sell them.
I’m certain that whatever I do will involve candles and chicken bones. Prayers and voodoo might even play a role in selling these books. However, there’s no time like right now to learn a new skill and I will sell them.
That, or I’ll have a stock of fire kindling. Either way, I know Jim’s looking down at me and saying to himself, “I told you that you needed a marketing plan!” May he rest in peace.
