4 Things I Wish I Knew Before I Self-Published My First Novel
In May of 2018, after seeing my first test copy that was sent to me by Amazon, I was so excited to have my first novel finally done, completed, and in my hands that I simply hit “publish” and posted it on Facebook.
Within my small group of friends, my post went ‘viral’ in that it had 40+ comments and 200+ likes, but engagement doesn’t equal sales.
I didn’t care. I was a novelist. I had done it. But I had no idea what to do next.
On the verge of completing my second novel, which in a year or two will come with its own host of “I-wish-I-knews,” here is what I wish I knew before publishing my first novel, It’s A Long Way Down.
The Importance Of Reviews
The bottom line, the nitty gritty, the short of it—nobody wants to buy your book if there are no reviews.
Amazon’s recommendation is that to be “review ready” your book should have at least 15 reviews. My book, after being published for a year and a half, has 22 reviews. However, as they’re spread out across .co.uk .com and .ca, no one site has 15 reviews and even after a year and a half, wouldn’t qualify as “retail ready.”
If I were to redo the launch of my book, this would have been my greatest area of focus (and will be as I complete my next novel).
Right now, I think there are 3 good ways to get reviews:
Asking your email list (if you have one).
Participating in review groups on Goodreads, where you review books and people review your books.
Finding books on Goodreads that are like your book (I looked through books that had similar themes like heroin addiction) and asking those people who gave 5 star reviews if they’d be interested in a free copy for an honest review. Fair warning, though. Goodreads recommends against this method, but I did get about 15 reviews or Goodreads ratings out of it (out of asking about 100 people).
If you have a great email list already, you can give them an “Advanced Review Copy” (ARCs) of your book, and sign up to a service like Booksprout to keep track of your ARCs.
If you don’t have an email list, then I have a great blog that you can read which will help you get 5-10 email subscribers a day!
The Importance of Character
To me, what makes a great book—if you’re writing literature—is a great character, not a great story. If you’re writing fantasy or science fiction or a short story, the story becomes more important than character. That’s the formula. Great literary fiction is about character.
My aim with my first book was to create literature, but, while my reviews were great, and people seemed to enjoy my book a lot, I recognize that I did not fully understand my main character.
If I were to write it again, I would have done a number of character exercises to help me better understand who David Emmeret Smith was, what he wanted, and who he was outside of the book.
In some ways, my character made certain decisions because the story demanded it, not because the person he was demanded it. That’s the difference between a good book and a great book. The character drives the plot, not vice versa.
Proportion
This is a strange one because in my mind my book has 3 equal acts: an introduction, a fall, a redemption. It also has a final, post-script chapter, which wraps up the story.
The first three sections, when I think back to the novel (not having read it in more than a year), are equally weighted. If I were to re-write the novel, I think it would have been much more impactful to elongate the middle section—the fall, the terror, the addiction.
What this would have done would have made the tempo of the last act, the redemption, more hopeful, more redeeming. Again, as it stands, I think what I have works but it’s what separates a good novel from a great novel.
As I write my second novel, I’m giving heavy consideration to pacing, proportion and hitting the beats at the right time, for maximum effectiveness. I want my novel to sing when called for, to soar when asked, and to fall when it must.
How To Start A Book
The first page of your novel may be the most important page in your book.
Why?
Because nothing matters if they stop at the first page. You’re dead in the water and the thing you slaved over for months or years or decades may never be read. Now that’s tragic.
In my KDP analytics, I can see how many' ‘pages’ someone has read on the Kindle Unlimited program, and while it’s not often, I have seen a few people read 1-5 pages and give up.
Like I said, tragic. Hurts your soul, because they were so close to the magic. But why not put the magic at the beginning? Why make them wait?
My first page currently starts with a background on the character, his mood, and the current state of affairs. This is exactly the opposite of what I should have done.
In the name of full disclosure, I’ll share it here:
Out on the balcony of his large master bedroom in Los Angeles, under the silver hue of the moon and the stars, David Emmeret Smith flipped through the mental file folder that contained the last 56 years of his life. By anyone’s measure, his life had been a success, was currently a success, and on its present trajectory, would offer more success in the coming weeks. But, instead of drinking in the joy of his achievements, here he sat, staring up at the universe, wondering what it meant to anyone, to everyone, to exist, to be, and to succeed in a world like his.
David was an artist and his art was acting—and that is not to say that all actors are artists, but simply that this one was. The New Yorker once wrote of him “...he was the preeminent actor of a generation. His talent was only exceeded by the admiration of his peers and his ability to connect with an audience.” In the last ten years alone, he had won three Golden Globes, each of which coincided with an Academy Award nomination, but as of yet, his coveted 13½ inch golden man had escaped him. Now his fourth—and, he thought, possibly final—nomination was upon him and the word around town was that the prize was his to lose.
One would not have had, upon meeting him, the immediate impression of a great artist. His face was soft and round and worn, but, in the age-soaked lines, there yet remained a comfort—a nostalgia for another time, like the worn out trinket-lined walls of a grandparent. His unkempt hair was a pale blonde, thinning, but appropriately for a man entering into the latter half of his 50s. He had the triumphantly squishy body of an elderly hedonist and an indulgent artist; he wore thin black circular frames and kept his yellow beard short. Often, as was currently the case, a cigarette dangled from his thin lips—a bad habit he paid little attention to, to the dismay of his wife, Alice.
It had been ten years since his first nomination, which meant it had been ten long years spent considering what came next: a revered peer thumbs an envelope, turns over the seal, and calls out a name, his name. He makes his way through the crowd as they rise from their seats and break into deafening applause. What should be a monumental, life-changing event, a world-altering experience that kept him up with excitement, filled him with dread. This was his Mount Everest. But what happens when a climber breaches the top and returns home safely? What is he—who is he—after that? Is he still a mountain climber? Or is he a man who once climbed a mountain? When you achieve your life’s work, what do you become? These were the thoughts that occupied David’s mind every night and every day since the passing of his mother three months ago. Her death brought with it a nihilistic wind sweeping through his life, leaving behind a crater of meaninglessness perpetually expanding and contracting as the day of the awards approached.
And as I read it now I still like it.
But this is what is meant when they say to “Kill Your Darlings.”
Because this isn’t effective storytelling. People do not know who David Emmeret Smith is yet, so to give the reader 5-10 pages of background on him is a tough pill for a new reader to swallow.
Imagine you’re sitting on a bench and someone you’ve never met before starts telling you their life story.
Who cares?
You don’t know them. You don’t need their life story. Instead, give them a scene to care about. Plop them into something that humans inherently care about. Action. Fighting. Love. Show us, the reader, what we should care about. Don’t tell us all about the character we should care about. At least, don’t do it in the first few pages.
——————
But I don’t want to sell myself short. I’ve still managed to squeak more than 1000 sales of It’s A Long Way Down in the year and a half its been available, with some decent reviews, some great feedback, and all in all, am proud of what I’ve done with the first book.
