QueryTracker Blog

Helping Authors Find Literary Agents
Showing posts with label anthology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anthology. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Thinking Inside The Box (Set)

Platform, platform, platform. Ugh.

Agents say it's not necessary for fiction writers to have a platform to land an agent, but it also can't hurt to build yours now, so let me introduce you to the most intriguing and fun way I've found so far to get my name out there: an anthology.

A box set. Oh, those little awesome 3D covers with their long stack of titles behind them, priced dazzingly low to entice readers in, and once you've got the readers, you have a chance to figure out how to keep them.

I've participated in anthologies for years (starting in 1994 when I had a story in Catfantastic IV, curated by Andre Norton, no joke) but this is the first time I've seen how writers wield anthologies as platform-builders. Plus, as a new writer can make yourself more marketable to agents, so let's talk box sets.

First and foremost, if you participate in an anthology, anything you publish is published. That means you're not going to query it later. So choose your work carefully. Many anthologies will have a theme, so you may be writing something specific, but try to tie it loosely to whatever work you plan to query. Same genre, for example. If it has the same characters, make sure the anthology contract doesn't lay claim to sequels or related works. (Make sure the anthology has a contract.)

Secondly, participating in an antholgy or a box set will give you a writing credit. You may not get any money (especially if the box set is being distributed for free, like mine is) but you're right at the beginning of your career and you're going into this open-eyed: writing for free is fine if you're willingly choosing to get paid in some other currency. In this case, the currency is experience.

Agents and editors like to know how a writer responds to professional guidance. If you've participated in an anthology, you've proven you know how to work with other professionals. (This goes for magazines, too.) You'll have a track record of being able to keep to deadlines, being able to accept critique, and being able to put yourself out there as a professional.

Experience also means flexibility. We had one individual leave production for personal reasons, so the remaining members divided up the responsibilities to make sure all needs were covered. Another participant needed to flex her schedule due to absolutely unavoidable conflicts, and we were able to adjust everything around her so that when she did have the chance, her work could come in late and then be streamlined right through production so everything was completed on time.

Flexibility is a skill. Taking critique is a skill. Working with others is a skill we all learned in kindergarten but needs practicing on a regular basis. In an anthology, you'll get all that.

Your currency may also come in the form of mentoring. If there are more-experienced writers in your group, watch them and soak up every single bit of information you can. Ask them to put you to work, and then go ahead and do it. Why? Because they're going to show you tricks that are second nature to them after being in the trenches. Marketing tricks. Phrasing tricks. Keyword tricks. Selling tricks. And remember, as a querying writer, you're marketing yourself.

(An unexpected side-effect of my participation in this anthology was that after I formatted the ebook versions, two members asked if I formatted on a freelance basis. I currently have my first freelance check sitting on my desk, awaiting transport to the bank. How cool is that?)

Third is that you're going to increase your platform, or maybe begin building your platform. When you participate in an anthology, each participant is going to reach out to her network in order to get support for the final product. If there are ten participants, you have ten times the reach you had before, and if you assume an equal division of readers, then 90% of the readers will be new to you.

Ah, but it won't be an equal division of readers because the other writers may have fully-developed platforms of their own already. And all together, you're each riding the others' coat-tails onto new readers' shelves. Everyone benefits. (Just make sure you have a way to keep those readers attached to you, such as a blog to follow or a Facebook page they can like.)

Side note: The authors of The Naked Truth About Self-Publishing talk about how, when they first formed The Indie Voice, they decided all of them should have the monicker "New York Times Bestselling Author." So they formed a box set with one book from each member, priced it at $.99, got a BookBub and other supporting ads, and proceeded to sell thousands of books, hitting the bestseller list. That, my friends, if you can be paid in it, is currency. (But you can't do that anymore. Both the NYT and BookBub closed that particular loophole. Sorry.)

It'll just be a sentence in your author bio. "I was previously published in Where The Light May Lead, an anthology that sold a thousand copies during its publication weekend." You don't need to harp on the fact that now you have experience and the beginning of a platform, or that you've picked up new skills and new contacts. Agents will know.

Participation in an anthology won't vault you over everyone else's head right into the agent's "request a full right this second" pile. But having a track record might tip the scales if the agent is unsure whether to look at more of your work.

And above all: participating in an anthology will make you a better writer and a better professional. Plus, it's fun. Those are always good things, even if you never want to impress an agent or an editor.

--

(Psst: If you want to check out the anthology that spurred this post, it's free in the US on Amazon and worldwide at a number of other vendors.)





Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Business-Minded Writer: When the Hobby Becomes the Job

"Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work." -- Stephen King

Work. Uck. Such a strenuous word. It draws up images of toil and labor and exertion, more often than not for a pittance far below that what we deem to be our worth. Who knows that better than a writer?

Writers write because it's what we love to do. For some, it means a job and a pretty income. For others, it's a hobby and a pleasure. But the one thing both kinds of writers have in common is that, whether hobby or career, we tend to call our poems and stories and books by the same name: our work.

Uck. That word again.

My first published piece was a poem that appeared nearly three years ago. "Note to Self:" was published in the March 2009 issue of Poe Little Thing, an e-zine. When I first started selling my poetry, I was happy to simply be published--getting that acceptance from a publication, hearing that "yes" was the real rush. It inspired me to keep writing, keep submitting, keep getting my stuff out there in search for another acceptance.

I am proud to say that since that first acceptance, I've had nearly a hundred more. While I still love that "yes" rush more than anything else, I have to admit I've become a bit more grounded.

More businesslike, I shudder to say. Terrible thing for me to admit, considering I began writing to get away from the rigors of my day-job. Writing was supposed to be my hobby. When did it become work?

The answer: it became a job the very first time I submitted something to an editor.

Who knew? Not me. I was a hobby writer who, like most writers, decided my stuff was too cool to keep to myself. Since I gravitate toward the shady side of the written word (dark spec fic, mainly) I was limited as to how much love I could expect from my mom, who is more of a feel-good kinda gal. I sought a wider audience, those readers who appreciated shadows and sinister grins and cheerful depression as much as I.

Another note to self: what you might think is "sharing" is actually "marketing" and, therefore, work.

Over the past few years, I'd gradually shifted my self-perception from "hobby writer" to "freelance author." I like the term "freelance" because it doesn't just pertain to business or copy writers--it refers to any creative writer (fiction and literary writers included) who aren't bound by exclusive contracts or the limitations of employment. Hey. If writing is work, I want a real title to go with it.

I've also increased my awareness of the business side of writing with particular emphasis on the rights involved with selling my non-novel length work. While my search criteria when shopping literary markets still relies heavily on how much I like the title of a publication (seriously. I mean, if a potential sale is going to be listed in my bio, I want to love the sound of the journal's name, too) I have begun to shrewdly evaluate the rights that would be transferred in the event of a sale.

As a freelance writer of poetry and short fiction, I've got to know what I'm selling so knowing these rights are extremely important. While I publish primarily for the satisfaction, I want to know what rights I'm giving away when I "give away" my work.

There are several excellent online references that describe the different rights. At the end of the article, I'll include links to those websites that I keep bookmarked for easy reference. But for the rest of us who like instant gratification (and, honestly, who doesn't?) here is a brief summary of some of the rights you can sell when marketing your own work.

(And by the by, I'm not a lawyer and I'm the last one to ask for legal advice. Maybe some of our other Query Trackers are but I sure as heck didn't consult any of them before writing this article. Consider this an official disclaimer.)

First things first: the copyright. A writer owns the copyright to anything he (or she) writes. Period. Print it out, e-publish it, bingo. Copyright is expressed. Registration with the US Copyright Office simply entitles a writer to monetary damages in case of copyright infringement. (When I was a newbie novelist I read a few articles whose authors were of the opinion that a "poor man's copyright"--essentially, printing out your work, sealing it in an envelope, and mailing it back to yourself--was enough to protect your copyright. Not so. Filing with the Copyright Office is the only sure way to back up your claim in court.)

At any rate, along with inherent copyright comes a bunch of other, separate rights that a writer can sell, either in bulk or one by one. Knowing these terms will make it easier to evaluate what you are selling along with your masterpiece. Among others, the main types of rights that are negotiated when selling to the small markets are:

All rights--pretty much just what it says. It's the right to own your work. If you sign away all rights to a publisher, you can never use the same work again in its current form. The new owner of all rights to your work is free to reprint your material or to sell it elsewhere without paying any additional money to you. They aren't even obligated to give you a byline. These are the rights you don't want to sell unless you really have to do it.

First serial rights--These are the rights most commonly granted in a publishing contract. These rights grant the publisher of a serial publication the exclusive right to print an article first. After the work is published once, rights revert back to the writer, who is then free to resell the work. More specific terms like FSNAR (first serial North American rights) limit to a specific area--if you sell FSNAR you can still sell to a UK publication. Watch for terms like "worldwide" because it means, well, worldwide.

Exclusive rights-- The right to publish your work without it appearing somewhere else at the same time. Often publishers request exclusive rights for a specified length of time. When the exclusivity period ends, the writer is free to publish the work elsewhere. The flipside of this is non-exclusive rights.

Electronic rights-- If a publisher's contract includes electronic rights, a writer should know how long the publisher has permission to keep the work published on the web. Recent years have sparked an explosion in the number of online magazines and literary blogs so electronic rights are commonly contracted. Determine if the editor wants first electronic rights or all electronic rights. You must keep in mind that "electronic rights" doesn't just mean web publishing--it also means CD-ROMs, databases, etc.

Internet rights--Specific electronic rights to publish work on the Internet or via email (i.e. newsletter). Unlike electronic rights, Internet rights don't give an editor the right to reproduce your work on a CD-ROM or other physical electronic device.

Reprint rights-- This is the right to print a work a second time. Reprint rights imply that first rights have been sold. It's also called second serial rights.

Knowing these definitions have made it possible for me to determine which pieces I can legally market as reprints. Reprints are my new big thing--now it's no longer enough to have a poem published. I want to have it published in as many places as superhumanly possible. I want to spread my words around with the same vigor my kids use to destroy the house on a day off from school.

So far, it seems to be working out. That first poem "Note to Self:" was eventually picked up by the Cover of Darkness anthology.

Ooh. Anthology rights. Another shudder but, all things considered, it's a shudder of a good kind.


Some links I keep bookmarked:

The editor of Rampant Loon Press has a great section in his submission guidelines regarding rights purchased using software licensing terminology. Although these are the guidelines for a specific magazine, they illustrate the ongoing shift of publishing from print to electronic formats...and the shift of rights available for purchase along with it.

The American Society of Journalists and Authors has an excellent position paper from 2003 that is worth a careful look.

And because I know you are all dying to do some light reading, there's always the US Copyright Office's website.



Ash Krafton is a speculative fiction writer who resides in the heart of the Pennsylvania coal region, where she keeps the book jacket for "Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter" in a frame over her desk. Visit the Spec Fic Chick website at www.ashkrafton.com for updates on the release of her debut novel, Bleeding Hearts: Book One of the Demimonde, forthcoming in March 2012 through Pink Narcissus Press.