In Publishing, One Thing Has Nothing To Do with the Other
I was at the Blue Moon last night and several people asked me how my publishing company was doing.
“Great!” I said. Then I thought about it.
So I decided to give you a window into the world of small publishing.
This summer, A&M Books, landed two finalist spots for the ForeWord Reviews Book of the Year Awards, and my book, For Frying Out Loud won in the humor category. I’m thrilled. Not only is the award from a field of thousands of independently published books, but it was in a mainstream and not just LGBT category. I love that.
While I’m amazed and honored that the only two books tiny A&M published this year have both been recognized, visions of sugar plum fairies and enormous book sales are not exactly dancing in my head.
It’s like my mother’s stock answer when, as she was arguing with me, I raised what I deemed to be a valid negotiating point.
“One thing has nothing to do with the other,” she’d say.
And after all these years, it seems Mom was right. One thing really has nothing to do with the other.
As A&M Books’ publisher I run a teeny tiny independent publishing house (and, as you know, it really is my house). The garage is the Rehoboth book depository, my spouse is fulfillment manager, and my Schnauzers are security.
And, as many readers also know, A&M Books has quite a history. The original owners were Anyda Marchant and Muriel Crawford (hence, A&M). Anyda wrote early lesbian fiction under the name Sarah Aldridge and the women, along with another couple, started Naiad Press in 1973. It became the largest lesbian/feminist publishing house in the world.
In 1995 Anyda and Muriel left Naiad (which is since defunct) to form A&M Books. When these two brilliant and fun women passed away in 2005 (Anyda at 95, Muriel at 93) they left me A&M Books.
All fourteen Sarah Aldridge novels were still in print and still selling and Anyda had just published my first book As I Lay Frying—a Rehoboth Beach Memoir, which was heading toward a second printing. A&M was on a roll.
However, the bank account I inherited had about $11 in it. Apparently, one thing had nothing to do with the other.
It’s six years later and we got word last spring that our two 2010 books won their respective categories for Delaware Press Association Books of the Year. The winners were my latest book and The Carousel, a wonderful contemporary novel by Stefani Deoul. The Carousel also just won an IPPY (another independent publishers award) Bronze Medal for LGBT fiction. Fabulous!
In contrast, the A&M bank account is shamefully overdrawn. Once again, one thing has nothing to do with the other. Well, in this case, it might have. I overdrew the account with the check for the Awards ceremony.
Bank fees aside, I’m having a great ride. My first book is in its third printing, having sold about 6,000 copies. Books two and three are doing well. But there are staggering costs of small, small publishing.
No matter the freight, I don’t mind shipping books to independent bookstores. I’m happy they are surviving. But Amazon is another story. It’s bad enough to pay a couple of bucks each to print the books, but add priority rate postage and Amazon’s diabolical habit of ordering one book each for four different warehouses, and it’s appalling. Oh, I forgot the $1.14 for the padded envelope. I’m lucky I’m not writing from a padded cell. Amazon stats up, net worth down. One thing has nothing, etc.
So here I sit, two cars turning into rust buckets on the driveway and a garage stacked with towering pallets of books. I’m drowning in sell sheets, backorders, and bubble wrap. My den is my distribution center, with books four feet high and purchase orders, packing tape, and the ubiquitous bubble wrap filling every available crevasse. In the clutter I can easily lose a Schnauzer. Those Clean House reality show people would take one look and burst into tears.
So, all these awards and good reviews are a great reward. I love that Facebook, blogs, and web pages are lit up with colleagues from other, bigger independent publishers congratulating me along with their own nominated authors.
Equally lit up are the little flashing parenthesis around the numbers on my online bank statement, noting the A&M Books account deficit.
Yes, yes, it seems that one thing may have something to do with the other after all.
But now, in a spectacular example of “timing is everything,” I have great news to share.
On September 20th, A&M Books plans to release a new publication, called Out of Step by local writer Lee Watton. With the tag line “Nobody Asked, But Somebody Told” it’s a memoir about Lee and four of her Navy WAVE friends who were booted from the military in 1965 for being gay—a fascinating, infuriating, and surprisingly warm and even humorous tale.
The work in progress came to the attention of Col. Grethe Cammermeyer, the woman who challenged the military’s Don’t Ask policy, wrote the book Serving in Silence, and was portrayed by Glenn Close in a movie of the book. Col. Cammermeyer loved Lee’s manuscript so much she has written a foreword for it. We are absolutely thrilled.
And, in the latest irony, while I have been working with Lee as her editor and publisher for over a year now, by happenstance, our upcoming publication date is the EXACT time that the odious Don’ Ask, Don’t Tell will finally become history. How’s that for timing???
So how’s the book biz coming? I’m having a blast and sometimes all this fun costs more money than the press makes. But what the hell. It’s like the classic circus sanitation worker who follows the elephants with a shovel. “Why do you do this dirty work,” he’s asked. You know the answer: “What? And give up show biz?”
For me, it’s “What, and give up the book biz?” I’m committed to keep shoveling.
Looky here. I just got a purchase order from Amazon for a whopping seven books to be sent to four separate warehouse destinations. I’m going to have a martini now. One thing has absolutely nothing to do with the other.
Fay Jacobs is the author of As I Lay Frying—a Rehoboth Beach Memoir and Fried & True—Tales from Rehoboth Beach. Contact Fay Jacobs