September 28th 2024
Just a few days until the publication of my new book Mrs. McPhealy's American! Many thanks to Sibylline Press who took a chance on it. I can't say that I am jaded, having only four, now five, published books to my credit, but self-preservation is tempering my excitement on this eve of publication. The reality is, I have been here before, starting ten years ago when Simon and Schuster thought my book Veil Of Time would become the world's next Outlander. I let myself be persuaded, even though I knew that Veil Of Time was quite a different kettle of fish. Turned out, I was right. Publication day came and went and the numbers didn't match their expectations. As is the practice with big name publishers, they cast many lines into the ocean, and then they wait for a bite. On March 14th 2014, the fish were not fighting over my bait, so the line got yanked, and that was that.
How to make it in the publishing industry is an ill-defined art. Publishers are a bit like the makers of flu vaccines, looking mainly at what has come before, searching in the dark for what is to come. Consequently, the success rate is extremely low. Just because Cheryl Strayed had a blockbuster hit with a journal kept while hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, doesn't mean the next literary wanderer is going to meet with similar success. The odds actually work against it. So, the whole enterprise is something of a crap shoot. These days, it probably depends on the inner workings of algorithms as much as anything else. The modern author is dependent on clicks as much as bait.
Sibylline Press put together a beautiful book trailer (who would ever have thought that would become a thing?) with gorgeous pictures of Scotland and a heavenly soundtrack.
They have me reading the first chapter on YouTube and a Scottish actress reading a different chapter on the same platform. They arranged for me to travel to Denver this week for a conference of the Mountains and Plains Independent booksellers. I will have 4 minutes to make my pitch. It's three pages long. I have it written out because I would rather put on my specs and read. I am a Scot. I am ill at ease with extemporaneous.
It's all a game of dice. Who knows what will take the readers' fancy? You can move the pieces around and put on your pretty frock (in this case, my kilt), but you're at the mercy of the literary gods, no matter what you do. You never know, little Sibylline Press in California might achieve what Simon and Schuster failed to do. I know one thing, they won't be yanking my line any time soon. For that I am grateful, and for the hard-working, unrelenting ladies whose mission this book has become.
