Proud Member of the Resistance

Sometime before the end of the year, my story "Exhuming Harry Truman" will be one of 33 tales published in the anthology Kindle All-Stars Presents: Resistance Front.

If you haven't, you should visit project creator and editor Bernard J. Schaffer's website to learn much more about the project; and visit the Fringe Scientist website to read interviews with the authors, which will continue to roll out daily throughout the month. Mine is scheduled for Thanksgiving Day. Want to know where my story "Exhuming Harry Truman" came from? The answer goes well with pie.

This is an interesting, many-headed hydra of a project: it brings together a broad spectrum of international talent ranging from well-established writers to first-timers; it's a charitable venture, with all stories donated and all proceeds earmarked for the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children; and it sets out to demonstrate how technology empowers the writer to find an audience and see work into print without having to enter the labyrinth of the traditional publishing house.

For decades, self-publishing was looked down upon with a sneer by the traditional publishing model. It couldn't be a real book unless it had been submitted through an agent. Had been vetted by readers and editors. Had been anointed by a big house. And any number of vanity press companies preyed on writers who couldn't get inside the castle walls, charging them small fortunes to see their tales between covers. All of this only strengthened the hand of the houses: See? Anyone can buy their way to having a book, but only by being anointed will you be promoted to the world as an author.

To hell with being an author. I want to write.

What's curious is how this attitude has persisted within publishing, but hasn't within art or music. Artists have always been self-promoters and portfolio builders who will hustle to put together shows in small galleries on their own. With music, no one ever sneered at a band for having their own self-produced tape or disc at a show, or cutting their own demo. It's how some acts start down the road to widespread recognition.

But these days, the publishing industry is in the same boat as the music industry. Technology has bridged the gap between the writer and the audience, making it possible to remove the middle men. There's an eight-lane digital bypass that does a clean, fast arc around the traditional infrastructures.

KAS is the second such venture in which I've participated. The first happened out of necessity for the editors. The anthology Machine of Death was shopped around to publishers for a couple of years before the editors paid out of pocket for its production through Bearstache Books. Despite loving the premise, none of the big publishers was willing to take a chance on an anthology full of unknowns. (Apparently, publishers have forgotten that EVERY writer starts out as an unknown, and there's greater financial risk in unknowns than second- and third-rate Twilight knockoffs. Strike while the stake is hot, I suppose.)  MOD has since gone to a fourth printing, pissed off Glenn Beck, and will appear in several foreign-language editions next year. It's developed a highly energized cult following, and the second Machine of Death anthology drew over 1,900 submissions for roughly thirty spots. If that's not indie success in the social media age, there's no such thing.

KAS, in part, seeks to demonstrate that the writer CAN be a successful independent entity - can tell stories, can produce novels or collections, can exist and flourish on the cutting edge without having to throw themselves into a funnel that leads to a slush pile.

The technology is there to allow writers to become true mom-and-pop shops with their work. Of course, this puts a lot of responsibility on the writer as well. The long slog to traditional publication also comes with benefits if you make it inside the citadel: promotion, distribution, income. The writer who undertakes the independent path assumes an incredible burden. You still need an editor - someone who isn't going to nod along, or say "That was really great!" when it wasn't in an effort to spare your feelings or friendship. You need to do your own promotion and legwork. You need to know what your costs are and what price you're willing to accept. You need to do the heavy lifting on the final product. And you need to choose your outlet and set your sales strategy. It can be very liberating, but it isn't something for the faint of heart. It's making your hobby into your second job - willingly becoming a writer with self-sustaining professional standards and a willingness to lose sleep.


In the end, that's the only way this kind of freedom works. KAS is being lifted by the people who appear in the book and some very hearty associated souls. It will succeed or fail on two things: the quality of the work, and the efforts to promote the book. I'm about a third of the way through the advanced reading copy, and I see the quality on the page. Now all we need is for people to read, review and recommend. *points his Marley-esque index finger at the reader*

Watch this space for additional details, including an on sale date and link. And when the book arrives, go forth and buy a copy, whether you Kindle or you're a more traditional paper and ink person. You'll help a worthwhile charity, get some fresh fiction from some old favorites (I'm in a book with Harlan "LANE! YOU DICKLESS WONDER!" Ellison - go tell my twelve year old self that and he'll call you a big fat liar) and new friends,  and help show that independent author-driven publishing can work.