First Year Anniversary of Decision Day AKA Validation Part One

It was at Christmas time that I made the fateful decision to publish my first book.  It was one year ago today—almost to the very moment.

In previous posts, I’ve described the inspiration, the creation, the inherent obstacles, the long waits, and the gate keepers. But it’s Christmas. Let’s discuss happy thoughts. Let’s talk about the validation (of my endeavors).

You only receive it when you start to work with others. The planning, the traveling, the researching, the writing, the search for an agent, and the search for a publisher are lonely pursuits. You remain alone when you start hiring people to help you, but it’s now evolving into a team effort.

When I searched for an editor, I initially addressed eleven of them in an introductory e-mail (with addresses and bios obtained from the online editors’ association). Nine of them wrote me back within forty-eight hours expressing interest. Some were too expensive and were immediately dismissed. Others asked for some sample pages to edit to show me what they could do. I received five submissions and fanned them across my coffee table. I read each one and picked the best editor for the job.

The early validation was immediate. The pages were universally liked. The five finalists each made a plaintive request that they really wanted to work on this project. However, I was a little suspicious because each of them also wanted a paying freelance gig.

But I’d like to think there was some truth in their enthusiasm. I’d like to think that each of them would rather work on a manuscript that was a pleasant chore rather than one that was painful drudgery. And for the first time in two years, I somewhat believed that I was on the right track. And it was only January.

There wasn’t much validation from the hired book designer. For her, it was all about fonts, and margins, and photos, and colours, and textures, and designs. Even though she scanned each and every word and made them fit properly onto the page, she admitted that there was little time for comprehension or enjoyment of the content.

I received even less validation from my hired printer. To him, it was just words on the page between two thin pieces of pretty cardboard paper.

However, I did get some surprising love from his delivery guys. We arranged a 5:30 delivery on a Friday. I arrived home at 5:25 and hurried up the stairs to change my clothes. There were two men lurking in my hallway outside my door.

When I inserted my key, one man bellowed, “You, John Meyer?”

“Yeah.” Was I going to get served legal papers? Isn’t that how it works in the movies?

“I’m Bruce! We have your books!” They had already co-opted the concierge’s skeleton key and loaded the boxes into the elevator. No need to change. My books were just steps away.

“Oh. And who’s this?”

“He’s Lenny!”  Lenny and Bruce, the delivery guys.

“But John, you have to do me a favour.” 

Uh oh.  “Yeah?”

“Sign a few books for us?”

Not two, but four. They had opened up a box and chosen four for themselves. Cheeky. While I signed the books—my books, my first books, my first signatures—Bruce said, “We never met an author before.”

“But you deliver books all the time.”

“Mostly textbooks. But you wrote a book we want to read.”

It was an August evening. The books were left outside my door. Lenny and Bruce departed with their souvenirs. I changed out of my work clothes, cranked the appropriately loud rock ‘n’ roll, and I opened a bottle of ice cold beer. And I began to move the boxes into my apartment. It was real now. My books had arrived.

Now I just had to tell others about it…
 

For more posts on this self-publishing journey, check out:

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/resolution-to-self-publish/

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/validation-part-two/

https://www.johnmeyerbooks.com/the-tv-show-showdown/