Nadine Feldman, Author

celebrating strong female characters and whatever else strikes my fancy

self-publishing

A Dose of Indignation

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“Is that all you’re doing?” asked a former co-worker when I explained that I was writing full-time. My French teacher, when teaching the term femme au foyer (housewife), pointed me out as one of the femmes au foyer in the room. “I start writing at 8:00 a.m. and work all day,” I complained. “Well, you’re not making any money, so you still fit in the housewife category,” she suggested. I don’t believe her. I love her dearly, don’t get me wrong, but her attorney husband also writes poetry, so she sees writing as a bit of an indulgence.

Now, I have nothing against housewives, and a creative homemaker deserves a great deal of credit and honor that she often does not get. But that’s not what I do. Right now I am producing one book, getting another ready for reprints, and writing a third. In addition to the writing, I am starting to gear up the marketing machine while I coordinate with cover designers, photo editors, and printers. I am waiting to get my novel back from my editor in preparation to do substantial rewrites.  My days are busy and full, and often I work on weekends to keep up.

Yet somehow in my home, no one else is capable of filling the water jug in the refrigerator or restocking the soda. Toilet paper rolls remain empty until I fill them. When it’s time to do dishes after I have cooked a meal, people scatter. I could go on and on. In short, I seem to have become the family servant.

So, like a good femme au foyer who believes that her dreams are also important, I went “en grieve.” Like the French, my strike lasted a specific amount of time (one evening). I refused to cook. Instead, I sat on the sofa and played computer card games with my feet up. My husband decided that the recipe I had chosen for the evening was something he could handle. As dinner wound down, I made my grievances understood. My writing, my work, takes time and effort. I root for everyone else to make their dreams come true, and I want support with mine as well.

We writers sometimes have to get tough with those around us to protect and value the time we need to do our work. It’s all too easy to give away our valuable energy to others, leaving ourselves depleted and unable to create. When that happens, we need to get a healthy dose of indignation. We may need to go en grieve. Our work matters. Our dreams matter. Our creativity brings joy, entertainment, and maybe even hope to others, and we need to see it that way–and make sure we communicate that to others.

To Vacation or Not…

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This weekend, with trembling hands, I sent off the signed quote to the company that will be printing Patchwork and Ornament. They wanted to know when I expected to send in my files. I have set a September 14 date, so I have exactly four weeks to get everything done. I should be do-able. I glanced quickly at the latest layout, which I finished last night, and I’m quite pleased. Knowing me, I’ll be revising until the last second, but I am getting close.

So I faxed the quote on Saturday, and on Sunday my husband says to me, “I know you have a lot going on, but would you want to go out of town for Labor Day?” Ah, he always knows what to say to me! Dangle a travel opportunity in front of me, and I’m off and running.

Technology is amazing. Within the hour, we had decided where to go (Estes Park, CO), booked flights, found a condo to rent, and ordered books about hiking in the Rocky Mountain National Park. After an hour and a half, I was asking myself, “What have I done?”

Play vs. work is my dilemma. Play stokes my creative juices, especially when I’m out in nature and breathing fresh air. However, there is work to be done. Hence, my working on a Sunday night when I normally take weekends off. This morning I had two computers going, one for scanning photos that may go into Patchwork and Ornament (I’ve decided it needs more images), and one for Exodus. At one point I was scanning, printing out Patchwork and Ornament, and studying French, all at the same time.

I guess sometimes a pending vacation gets me in gear, maybe even more than committing a deadline to a printer!

The Right Tools for the Job

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As a writer, I know the tools for my job:  my computer, notebooks, red pens, writing reference books, informational podcasts, etc.  I carry these tools in my writer’s tool belt, and I look for new and better tools so that I gain skill in my craft. I’ve learned that I don’t necessarily need the Snap On tools, but a nice Craftsman makes my life easier. In other words, I may choose to read a book rather than pay for a workshop, or vice versa, depending on the situation. I’m looking for the best value, but I will not sacrifice quality to save a few dollars.

Now I’m  learning how to apply this philosophy to book production.

I’ve been getting bids from printers for Patchwork and Ornament. P&O is a different animal from my first book, one with a color interior (we are adding 30-35 color images to go with the text).

Unexpectedly, paper selection has become a Big Deal. We need something more opaque than what comes with a black-and-white book. I must decide between a matte and gloss finish. And, curiously, the paper used most often for color is thinner, so I need paper that will give me enough spine width so that people won’t think the book is absurdly overpriced.

I went back to the printer I wanted to use and asked for a different paper, one with the qualities I wanted but a lower page per inch.  They balked.  Turns out they don’t stock a lot of different papers, so if I work with them, I am stuck with a paper I don’t want. My rep and I found ourselves at an impasse, and her response to my concerns was to keep steering me toward that which I have rejected.

Tools…paper is an important tool to the job of book production. And, while I am at times accused of being a bit of a control freak, I know what I want, and since I am investing thousands of dollars of family funds to do the job, I feel like I need the tools that will work for me.

In the meantime, I contacted another printer that I found in various resources for small publishers. I saw a book that they had printed, one filled with vivid, clear color images and cool paper. I looked at their website and found a massive paper selection, including the number of pages per inch. This got my attention.

When the rep called me, I felt like I was working with a  real guide. We explored a number of options. She offered to send a paper sample book. She made suggestions. She is providing me with a number of different quotes with a variety of scenarios so I can decide what I want to do.

I haven’t seen the quotes yet, but I will tell you this: this company is simply better equipped to do what I need done. Many companies advertise that they do color printing, but this experience feels like I’ve moved from a plumber’s apprentice to a master plumber. The other company has a great reputation, and I hope to use them on some black and white projects that I’m working on for the future…but for Patchwork and Ornament, it was a matter of finding the right tools for the job.

The Trite and True

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As writers, we are always looking for new ways to describe our characters and their situations. Our first readers often point out the various cliches that manage to slip into our work, despite our best attempts to avoid them.

Sometimes, though, a trite expression, metaphor, or phrase is exactly what we need in a given moment…not in our writing, but in our lives as writers.

Yesterday was a tough day for me. Self-doubt permeated my thoughts. I began to wonder about Patchwork and Ornament: am I overestimating its marketability? Do I have what it takes to get the book in the hands of those who would enjoy it? Am I squandering family money to cover printing and marketing costs? In short, what was I thinking?

Deep in a stereotypical writer’s funk, I went out with my husband Henry to a coffee shop where I could sort out my feelings. We talked for a long time, pouring yet again over my ideas for the book, the progress we’ve made, the layout and cover that are coming together, and all the various places I could market the book. Not to mention that every time I put a draft of the layout into people’s hands, they don’t want to put it down!

We returned home and got ready for bed. As I was falling asleep, I remembered something important about my creative process: it’s always like a birth.

This is where the trite meets the true. Birthing metaphors are as old as, well, the hills. Still, it brings me comfort to understand what’s going on. I’m seven months into this pregnancy. I’m heavy and tired, and my feet hurt. I wonder if I’ll be a good mother. I wonder if my child will be unruly. I worry about a stillbirth.

Years ago, I gave birth to a little girl. She had died in my womb, which is another story for another day, but I went through the full birthing process. I was terrified. I was at seven months, about the same place I am now with Patchwork and Ornament, and I didn’t know how to breathe yet. I had just gotten started with my classes, so I felt helpless and frightened. At one point I looked to my husband at the time and said, “I don’t think I can do this.” Yet a few minutes later, I felt her move through me and into the world where I could see and hold her. And oddly, even in a tragic moment, I felt joy. This was my daughter.

The closer I get to completing book production, the more I feel like that frightened, much younger woman, who said, “I don’t think I can do this.” Yet what I learned from my daughter is that yes, I can do this, I will do this, and in the end I will feel joy.

Trite? Maybe. But it works for me, gives me strength, reminds me that hanging on when I don’t think I can always brings a greater reward. Very soon I will hold a brand-new, colorful, vibrant baby in my hands and begin to carry her into the world.

The Exciting World of Online Permissions

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Ten years have passed between the printing of my first book and the upcoming printing of Patchwork and Ornament, and a lot has changed! I’ve had to research independent publishing all over again to make sure I’m up with the technologies and possibilities. This week, I think I found my book printer, and they even have a cool program so you can upload your files and make sure they are compatible with their systems.

But the real excitement came today! In the book, Jenny (my late mother-in-law, for those joining these blogs late) quoted the poet Yehuda Amichai. I had two choices: delete the poetic reference, which wasn’t completely necessary, or get permissions. When I published my first book, I had to get a lot of permissions, and it wasn’t always a pleasant experience. I remember having some rather nasty back and forth with one publisher that wanted control over my entire text before I decided just to drop the reference.

Still, the Amichai lines, while not essential to the story she told, did add some lovely flavor to the essay. I flipped to the back of the book for the publisher’s website and went online. Lo and behold, you can do these things instantly now! I filled out a form, paid $14, and presto, my printer spit out a license for my records. Instead of waiting weeks or months for permissions, mine took about ten minutes.

What a cool time we live in.

Juggling Acts

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Saturday afternoon we went to see Cirque du Soleil, my first experience of this wonderful treat. For a few hours we were enthralled by acrobats, clowns, mimes, music, and jugglers. At times there was so much going on onstage that I couldn’t keep up. My eyes darted from one character to the next, back and forth, trying to take it all in.

Sounds a lot like life.

Last week we made the sudden decision to try to buy a house, and now we are in the midst of negotiations. On the one hand, I am thrilled to think that we might have a home of our own. While I love our rental–it’s spacious, bright, and roomy–it’s not mine. On the other, I worry about all my projects.

Here I am, about 75% complete on P&O’s book layout but dealing with the most difficult part, the images. Over the weekend I discovered that I will need to do some unexpected additional work to prepare for When a Grandchild Dies reprints. I’m struggling to find nooks and crannies of time to work on Exodus. Now I’m getting ready to clear out clutter and pack up a three-bedroom house?

Sounds a lot like Cirque du Soleil.

So I get through it like I always do. I set up lists. I re-evaluate all of my self-imposed timelines to see if anything can be moved around. I try to nibble at everything at least a little bit every day. I keep up with my yoga practice, which calms me down and gives me fresh ideas for how to make everything work. And I remind myself that even the best juggler drops a ball now and then.