An interesting article from Cory Doctorow over at Publishers Weekly about the perils of self-publishing.
I write these words on a Friday having just recently finished and sent off my next YA novel, Pirate Cinema, to all the agents, editors, friends, first readers, and fact-checkers who’ve been awaiting it. I believe it is a good novel. In fact, I believe it is my best novel to date. I elatedly tweeted about finishing the book, letting my readers know that it was in the can, a month ahead of deadline no less, and that it would be coming to a shelf near them… in May 2012.
At this point, I was forcefully reminded of how fundamentally weird it is to work heroically toward a deadline, hit it, and then have to basically forget all about it for the next 18 months. I’ve learned many things on the way to becoming a professional writer, but the most difficult thing was learning to cope with delayed gratification. This has not come easily to me. I am, by nature, short of attention span and impatient. But I’ve come to grips with the long, leisurely pace of print publishing, with all the logistical coordination between writer, editor, sales, marketing, distribution, and retail. I’ve learned to trust that everyone is doing her or his job and that I can just forget about things until someone tells me it’s time to pay attention again.
The rest lives here.