Learning to Fly

So, my next novel launches this Friday. Exciting enough, though it’s always a bit nerve-inducing when the date nears. This is my fourth novel (and sixth release overall), and I’d like to say I’m learning more and more with each release. Still, I’d like to hope that each release is better than the last one in technical senses. I’m getting more of a feel for how to launch books, even if I’m not completely there yet.

Of course, it hasn’t been all smooth sailing, and I’ll fully admit that my weaknesses are in marketing and marketability. Half the challenge is connecting my book to people who want to read it, and I’ve had a perpetual issue of resources. I’m not exactly swimming in money or dripping with artistic talent, and so I’m having to scramble to make things work.

I haven’t had a massive success yet, but I have figured out a couple things about the process, and I figure that there’s no harm in sharing the things I’ve learned.

I think it’s important to start with this: people won’t believe your work is good if you don’t believe it’s good. You have to be the biggest fan and cheerleader of it, telling people why it’s a good work worth their time.

Mind you, there is a difference between being confident and being delusional, and the fastest way to sour people on that work is to sell it as something it’s not. Disappointment is not something you’ll find readers like, being promised something that turns out to be very different. You want your promises of what the book is to be confident and accurate, and you should be realistic in a positive way about what your book is.

If you’re a genre fiction writer, it’s unlikely (though not impossible) that you’ve written a literary masterpiece. There’s no shame in a competent, tightly-wound bit of genre fiction that hits all of the marks and leaves you satisfied. But if you’re selling a hamburger, don’t sell it as a gourmet steak and then complain when people are disappointed that they got a hamburger.

Of course, there’s the side of the coin that’s being incredibly delusional and arrogant. Confidence is fine, and even delusion can be healthy to a point; nobody’s going to believe in your book if you don’t. But I’ve never found that someone who thinks they’ve created a masterpiece has actually created a masterpiece, and doubling down on your works’ unimpeachable virtue will only irk your potential readers. Think along the lines of The Age of Scorpius and Empress Theresa, infamous self-published novels whose authors went in thinking their works were untouchably great and were immediately lambasted.

There is another rejoinder here; people will forgive arrogance if you actually deliver. I don’t think you should go in with arrogance, but it can definitely work for people if you have a way with it.

The one thing I regret not really having the resources for (presently) is a cover. I like to think I can edit my works (with some additional eyes to help catch issues), but I definitely know cover design isn’t my strong point. If you’re going to invest in one specific thing, a good cover is definitely something that will hook readers in and pique their interest.

This is not to say that editing is to be skimped on, but I think there are definitely effective work-arounds if you have people willing to give you feedback on your work and if you have experience writing. A cover is a trickier beast, and you want a cover that sells the book, sells the theme of the book, and doesn’t promise what it can’t deliver.

Readers do judge books by covers. If you’re just looking to put something into the world, that’s completely fine,, and something you whip up in Canva can do the job well enough. First impressions do matter, and that cover is your first stab at that.

In all honesty, if you’re careful, you can publish a book with no budget. But making it a success is a lot harder; it will cost you time and/or money to make something of it, and if you’re lacking in one, you’d better be willing to put the other in there.