Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Self-Publishing: The Good, The Bad, The Really Ugly

I recently agreed to review a book for a GLTB online website. The book, out of kindness to the author I’ll not mention its name, was possibly the worst written book I’ve ever read. I’ve read some real stinkers since I began reviewing gay literature, but this one set a new low standard. Normally if I’m reading for pleasure and I come across a poorly written book, I toss it by page 30, but since I agreed to review this book I felt compelled to complete it. I kept wondering how he managed to get it published. It the end, after finding absolutely nothing to recommend about it, I checked the title pages again and sure enough, it was self-published.

In an era where most of the New York publishing houses are laying off editors and cutting back on the number of yearly titles produced, independent bookstores are closing left and right and chain bookstores are laying people off and counting pennies, there is one segment of the industry that that is actually thriving: capitalizing on the dream of would-be authors to see their work in print, vanity presses (publishers who charge authors to publish their work) are growing at double digit percentages.

As traditional publishers drastically prune their title lists and increasingly rely on established names to draw readers, vanity presses are ramping up their booklists and making money on books that sell less than 10 copies. They are able to make money because the author pays out of pocket for all design and printing costs, marketing cost and even distribution to online retailers. Some, like Lulu Enterprises and CreateSpace, allow authors to create their book free, but make their money with small printing markup and a profit split with the author.

Blooming, Indiana based Author Solutions, who operates IUniverse, AuthorHouse, Wordclay and other print-on-demand imprints published over 13,000 titles in 2008, up twelve percent from the previous year.

The question to ask is who is driving these increases in sales. If you ask a hundred people if they have a story to tell, a good percentage of them will say they have at least one good story in them, or a few dozen poems, or great photos for a picture book. So without needing to develop the craft of writing and armed with new technology, for less than $100, these people can upload a Word file, choose some cover art, and they are instantly “published authors”. The trend is also driven by professional business people who want to list a published book on their resume, or use their book as an enhanced business card. There are also many people who are creating a book strictly for friends and family members.

The self-publishing companies still make up only a fraction of the wider publishing industry. Author Solutions, for example, sold a total of 2.5 million copies last year, where as Little Brown sold more than that on just one title: Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. The vast majority of self-published books, something like 85%, sell less than one-hundred copies.

Still, even though self-publishers have amassed the largest collection of bad novels and poetry in the history of the world, we may be looking at the future of publishing. Self-published authors use social networks like Myspace and YouTube to attract a following. And sure they fork out the upfront art and printing costs, but they also get a hefty commission – something like 45% to 55% instead of the 10% to 15% that traditional publishers pay.

Coming back to my original point of reading poor quality work from vanity presses, does it mean that all books that are self-published are of poor quality? No. There are diamonds in the rough out there, though my experience has been that they are few and far between. An industry expert recently stated that perhaps 2 out of every 1,000 self-published books should have been picked up by the traditional publishers. Does this mean we will need to get used to bad writing? No. But if this is the future of publishing, then I suggest everyone do more research before buying, and I don’t mean relying on Amazon reviews…

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Fan Mail

Several friends have asked me how readers are responding to my novel, Island Song. So I thought I would post some examples of emails that I have recieved from readers for those who are interested in that. The three examples below are the ones that made me feel particularly good:


I finished Island Song and wanted you to know how much I enjoyed it. I felt that I had read something that didn't underestimate me as a reader. The use of language not only in descriptions but as a descriptive of the beauty of the language. (I know what I mean but of course I'm having trouble explaining!). The writing is beautiful.

I was afraid that as I generally read mysteries and sci fi, that I would be disappointed in the story. But in some ways Island Song is sci fi - you create an entire world, a mystical world. I'm glad I found your writing through the GWR list.

Hi Alan,

Well, I found and purchased 'Island Song' on fictionwise and I've just finished reading it. WOW!!!!....what a brilliant, brilliant novel! I'm totally in awe of your writing and creativity. I haven't even fully processed the novel (or the many emotions it drew out of me), but even though I've just finished it, I'm very eager to go back and read it again.

I truly hope you will be writing more and look forward to reading anything, and everything you come up with.

Congratulations on a true masterpiece,

All I can say is...WOW! I want more!!WOOHOO!!
I'm proud of you and excited too because I truly LOVED your book!
I have to tell you, I am honest in my reviews, and if something is not 'good', I'll figure out a way to say it, believe me. Your book, Island Song is one of the most Inspirational stories I have ever read. I don't know for the life of me why you shelved it under Paranormal Erotic Romance. I found it not erotic at all, which is NOT a bad thing...I can encourage many more of my friends to read it now, and I am so impressed with your style and the way you're able to be highly descriptive without being boring (I don't often find that, let me tell you.)! I'm not even sure I would have labeled it Paranormal. I loved the way you approached sensitive issues and pertinent life lessons without preaching. To me, your book was THE INSPIRATIONAL ADVENTURE of a lifetime.
I wish you much success in your future endeavors, and for god's sake, get me another freaking book ASAP!!! Beautiful, beautiful story!Sincerely, and from one that is Not easily impressed,

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Art is not mere entertainment, it has power in our lives.

A dear friend passed me the Karl Paulnack article I've posted below. As a musician, he felt this article touched a deep truth within him. After reading this remarkable article on the meaning of music, I can say that it touched me equally as deep, not because I love music, but because everything Karl Paulnack says about music also applies equally to writing.

I hope you enjoy Mr. Paulnack's words of wisdom, and I welcome your comments.

As artists, we believe deeply in the importance and power of what we do.
This is a welcome address given to entering freshmen at the Boston Conservatory by Karl Paulnack, pianist and director of the music division. You may contact Mr. Paulnack at kpaulnack@bostonconservatory.edu

One of my parents’ deepest fears, I suspect, is that society would not properly value me as a musician, that I wouldn’t be appreciated. I had very good grades in high school, I was good in science and math, and they imagined that as a doctor or a research chemist or an engineer, I might be more appreciated than I would be as a musician. I still remember my mother’s remark when I announced my decision to apply to music school—she said, "you’re WASTING your SAT scores." On some level, I think, my parents were not sure themselves what the value of music was, what its purpose was. And they LOVED music, they listened to classical music all the time. They just weren’t really clear about its function. So let me talk about that a little bit, because we live in a society that puts music in the "arts and entertainment" section of the newspaper, and serious music, the kind your kids are about to engage in, has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with entertainment, in fact it’s the opposite of entertainment. Let me talk a little bit about music, and how it works.

The first people to understand how music really works were the ancient Greeks. And this is going to fascinate you; the Greeks said that music and astronomy were two sides of the same coin. Astronomy was seen as the study of relationships between observable, permanent, external objects, and music was seen as the study of relationships between invisible, internal, hidden objects. Music has a way of finding the big, invisible moving pieces inside our hearts and souls and helping us figure out the position of things inside us. Let me give you some examples of how this works.

One of the most profound musical compositions of all time is the Quartet for the End of Time written by French composer Olivier Messiaen in 1940. Messiaen was 31 years old when France entered the war against Nazi Germany. He was captured by the Germans in June of 1940, sent across Germany in a cattle car and imprisoned in a concentration camp.

He was fortunate to find a sympathetic prison guard who gave him paper and a place to compose. There were three other musicians in the camp, a cellist, a violinist, and a clarinetist, and Messiaen wrote his quartet with these specific players in mind. It was performed in January 1941 for four thousand prisoners and guards in the prison camp. Today it is one of the most famous masterworks in the repertoire.

Given what we have since learned about life in the concentration camps, why would anyone in his right mind waste time and energy writing or playing music? There was barely enough energy on a good day to find food and water, to avoid a beating, to stay warm, to escape torture—why would anyone bother with music? And yet—from the camps, we have poetry, we have music, we have visual art; it wasn’t just this one fanatic Messiaen; many, many people created art. Why? Well, in a place where people are only focused on survival, on the bare necessities, the obvious conclusion is that art must be, somehow, essential for life. The camps were without money, without hope, without commerce, without recreation, without basic respect, but they were not without art. Art is part of survival; art is part of the human spirit, an unquenchable expression of who we are. Art is one of the ways in which we say, "I am alive, and my life has meaning."

On September 12, 2001 I was a resident of Manhattan. That morning I reached a new understanding of my art and its relationship to the world. I sat down at the piano that morning at 10 AM to practice as was my daily routine; I did it by force of habit, without thinking about it. I lifted the cover on the keyboard, and opened my music, and put my hands on the keys and took my hands off the keys. And I sat there and thought, does this even matter? Isn’t this completely irrelevant? Playing the piano right now, given what happened in this city yesterday, seems silly, absurd, irreverent, pointless. Why am I here? What place has a musician in this moment in time? Who needs a piano player right now? I was completely lost.

And then I, along with the rest of New York, went through the journey of getting through that week. I did not play the piano that day, and in fact I contemplated briefly whether I would ever want to play the piano again. And then I observed how we got through the day. At least in my neighborhood, we didn’t shoot hoops or play Scrabble. We didn’t play cards to pass the time, we didn’t watch TV, we didn’t shop, we most certainly did not go to the mall. The first organized activity that I saw in New York , that same day, was singing. People sang. People sang around fire houses, people sang "We Shall Overcome". Lots of people sang America the Beautiful. The first organized public event that I remember was the Brahms Requiem, later that week, at Lincoln Center, with the New York Philharmonic. The first organized public expression of grief, our first communal response to that historic event, was a concert. That was the beginning of a sense that life might go on. The US Military secured the airspace, but recovery was led by the arts, and by music in particular, that very night.

From these two experiences, I have come to understand that music is not part of "arts and entertainment" as the newspaper section would have us believe. It’s not a luxury, a lavish thing that we fund from leftovers of our budgets, not a plaything or an amusement or a pastime. Music is a basic need of human survival. Music is one of the ways we make sense of our lives, one of the ways in which we express feelings when we have no words, a way for us to understand things with our hearts when we can’t with our minds. Some of you may know Samuel Barber’s heart-wrenchingly beautiful piece Adagio for Strings. If you don’t know it by that name, then some of you may know it as the background music which accompanied the Oliver Stone movie Platoon, a film about the Vietnam War. If you know that piece of music either way, you know it has the ability to crack your heart open like a walnut; it can make you cry over sadness you didn’t know you had. Music can slip beneath our conscious reality to get at what’s really going on inside us the way a good therapist does.

I bet that you have never been to a wedding where there was absolutely no music. There might have been only a little music, there might have been some really bad music, but I bet you there was some music. And something very predictable happens at weddings—people get all pent up with all kinds of emotions, and then there’s some musical moment where the action of the wedding stops and someone sings or plays the flute or something. And even if the music is lame, even if the quality isn’t good, predictably 30 or 40 percent of the people who are going to cry at a wedding cry a couple of moments after the music starts. Why? The Greeks. Music allows us to move around those big invisible pieces of ourselves and rearrange our insides so that we can express what we feel even when we can’t talk about it. Can you imagine watching Indiana Jones or Superman or Star Wars with the dialogue but no music? What is it about the music swelling up at just the right moment in ET so that all the softies in the audience start crying at exactly the same moment? I guarantee you if you showed the movie with the music stripped out, it wouldn’t happen that way. The Greeks: Music is the understanding of the relationship between invisible internal objects.

I’ll give you one more example, the story of the most important concert of my life. I must tell you I have played a little less than a thousand concerts in my life so far. I have played in places that I thought were important. I like playing in Carnegie Hall; I enjoyed playing in Paris; it made me very happy to please the critics in St. Petersburg. I have played for people I thought were important; music critics of major newspapers, foreign heads of state. The most important concert of my entire life took place in a nursing home in Fargo, ND about 4 years ago.
I was playing with a very dear friend of mine who is a violinist. We began, as we often do, with Aaron Copland’s Sonata, which was written during World War II and dedicated to a young friend of Copland’s, a young pilot who was shot down during the war. Now we often talk to our audiences about the pieces we are going to play rather than providing them with written program notes. But in this case, because we began the concert with this piece, we decided to talk about the piece later in the program and to just come out and play the music without explanation.

Midway through the piece, an elderly man seated in a wheelchair near the front of the concert hall began to weep. This man, whom I later met, was clearly a soldier—even in his 70’s, it was clear from his buzz-cut hair, square jaw and general demeanor that he had spent a good deal of his life in the military. I thought it a little bit odd that someone would be moved to tears by that particular movement of that particular piece, but it wasn’t the first time I’ve heard crying in a concert and we went on with the concert and finished the piece.

When we came out to play the next piece on the program, we decided to talk about both the first and second pieces, and we described the circumstances in which the Copland was written and mentioned its dedication to a downed pilot. The man in the front of the audience became so disturbed that he had to leave the auditorium. I honestly figured that we would not see him again, but he did come backstage afterwards, tears and all, to explain himself.

What he told us was this: "During World War II, I was a pilot, and I was in an aerial combat situation where one of my team’s planes was hit. I watched my friend bail out, and watched his parachute open, but the Japanese planes which had engaged us returned and machine gunned across the parachute chords so as to separate the parachute from the pilot, and I watched my friend drop away into the ocean, realizing that he was lost. I have not thought about this for many years, but during that first piece of music you played, this memory returned to me so vividly that it was as though I was reliving it. I didn’t understand why this was happening, why now, but then when you came out to explain that this piece of music was written to commemorate a lost pilot, it was a little more than I could handle. How does the music do that? How did it find those feelings and those memories in me?"

Remember the Greeks: music is the study of invisible relationships between internal objects. This concert in Fargo was the most important work I have ever done. For me to play for this old soldier and help him connect, somehow, with Aaron Copland, and to connect their memories of their lost friends, to help him remember and mourn his friend, this is my work. This is why music matters.

What follows is part of the talk I will give to this year’s freshman class when I welcome them a few days from now. The responsibility I will charge your sons and daughters with is this:
"If we were a medical school, and you were here as a med student practicing appendectomies, you’d take your work very seriously because you would imagine that some night at two AM someone is going to waltz into your emergency room and you’re going to have to save their life. Well, my friends, someday at 8 PM someone is going to walk into your concert hall and bring you a mind that is confused, a heart that is overwhelmed, a soul that is weary. Whether they go out whole again will depend partly on how well you do your craft.

You’re not here to become an entertainer, and you don’t have to sell yourself. The truth is you don’t have anything to sell; being a musician isn’t about dispensing a product, like selling used Chevys. I’m not an entertainer; I’m a lot closer to a paramedic, a firefighter, a rescue worker. You’re here to become a sort of therapist for the human soul, a spiritual version of a chiropractor, physical therapist, someone who works with our insides to see if they get things to line up, to see if we can come into harmony with ourselves and be healthy and happy and well.
Frankly, ladies and gentlemen, I expect you not only to master music; I expect you to save the planet. If there is a future wave of wellness on this planet, of harmony, of peace, of an end to war, of mutual understanding, of equality, of fairness, I don’t expect it will come from a government, a military force or a corporation. I no longer even expect it to come from the religions of the world, which together seem to have brought us as much war as they have peace. If there is a future of peace for humankind, if there is to be an understanding of how these invisible, internal things should fit together, I expect it will come from the artists, because that’s what we do. As in the concentration camp and the evening of 9/11, the artists are the ones who might be able to help us with our internal, invisible lives.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Dozens of Free ebooks available at Zumaya

Hi Everyone,
Exciting news this week. To celebrate and publicize national Read An Ebook Week, my Publisher, Zumaya Publications, is offering a host of ebooks FREE to anyone who wants to go to the Zumaya site and down load them. There are a host of fine books to be had, including my novel, Island Song. But hurry, this offer only lasts this week!
Zumaya publications is only offering ebooks in the eReader format, unfortunately. The time required to develop that many books into other formats and make them perfect was just not available. Call them anal, but even when they're giving the books away they feel they should be professionally done. But they also included a link to download the desktop eReader program, also FREE, so hopefully there nothing stopping you from enjoying dozens of great books for free.

Happy Reading!!

alan chin

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Web Digest Weekly spotlights Alan Chin

Hi everyone,

I wanted to let everyone know that Carey Parrish at Web Digest Weekly has posted an Interview with me. Carey has some very kind words to say about me and my novel, Island Song. You can read his comments and my interview at:


I would like to publicly thank Carey, and hope you can take the time to read the interview.

Thanks to all,

alan chin