Let’s face it, I’ll understand perfectly if no one responds to this blog. After all, does anyone even remember me?
Anyway, I am going to use this platform (not any author’s favourite word) to think. So if it sounds like gibberish (maybe you understand that long-forgotten language from your long-forgotten youth), please move on to the next post in your reader.
To IP or not to IP, that is the question.
- It’s cool to be one if you’re good at it, otherwise you’re just a smelly, sweaty wannabe that no one wants to sit next to on the bus.
- You have to be good with a lasso. That means that you gotta be able to rope in that steer before it gets away. For those of you who are still asleep, we’re talking marketing.
- Your butt gets real sore. Not only because you’re sitting on it all day. Ask any writer if rejections hurt. I’m sure the bucking bull doesn’t come even close to the pub-kick-in-your-pants.
- Cowboys and indies love baked beans. It makes a cheap protein meal, and you can stock up on it when you manage to scrounge some money together. Also, it’s good for the digestion and you can start a fire with the gas emissions in winter. And the tin is perfect for begging with: just pull off the label and voila.
This post was supposed to be helping me. But I keep having visions of Johnny Depp in The Lone Ranger. And he wasn’t even the cowboy (can’t remember who the handsome saddle soul was). If I manage to veer back in the direction of the topic, I may be able to reach some sort of conclusion.
Cowboys know they are cowboys, and they are pretty much in touch with their saddle sores. And you can ask any cowboy if he would like to be anything but a cowboy, chances are he will say “Hell, no,” and tip his hat and ride off into the sunset.
I suspect I may be a cowboy at heart. I fear the 8% royalties on offer from the trads. I fear them printing, distributing and forgetting about me. I fear the time it takes to go from signing to distribution. However, I do not fear making my own covers, or sitting with boxes of books in my basement. I do not fear the ridicule or the lack of street cred. I no longer need affirmation from the trad pub industry or those think that it’s the best thing since baked beans – cos it’s not. I am a writer and I write. Thousands of words a week. And I love writing, every minute in the saddle is freedom to roam the wide, open plains, where I can just point my horse (Tonto?) in the direction I want to go.
This western is all about control. Sorry, but I want to drive them cows. They’re mine, after all.
What do you think? Is Indie for you? Or do you value the street cred that goes with traditional publishing.