I have this book. (I have three actually, but only one that matters for the purposes of this post.) If friends, family, an agent (who regretfully passed), and random readers on Authonomy can be trusted, it’s a good book. I would like to publish this book.
I’m a patient person. I can wait out the query process long enough to find an agent. I can wait out the submission process for an agent to find an interested publisher. I can wait out the production process. I have a background in graphic design and print production…I would break through my wall of shyness and annoy anyone necessary to be in the press room when the book ran. My point is that patience with the publishing industry’s apparent sloth is not a problem for me. And given my general lack of assertiveness where business is concerned, having an agent would be in my best interest.
And in my second year of the program, I discovered something at which I was naturally gifted. It’s called Stripping.
Before I go on, I have to share a memory this just sparked. I was talking with some church friends one night, checked my watch and then excused myself. “I’m late for Stripping,” I said, jogging out of our dorm.
This sweetheart of a girl, Evelyn, got the wrong idea. She asked our friends David and Holly, “They teach that here?!”
Those two had the benefit of being photography majors. The lab where they spent all of their time was across the hall from prepress production, so they knew what I meant. They’re also both quick with humor, so they decided to tease poor Evelyn.
“Oh, yeah,” David said dismissively.
Holly added, “They’ve got tables that light up and everything!”
|This is lithographer's tape. It's very cool stuff.|
I’ve found myself in a similar situation in the past year. The indie presence in publishing is bigger, stronger, and louder than ever before. It’s gaining respect. Yet, I’m holding back…just like I resisted the news that direct-to-film, direct-to-plate, and waterless press technology was going to reform graphic arts.
|The Slush Pile.|
Well, I’m not a silly person. Not really. If I can throw out sixty-pages of prose because it’s not working, then surely I can toss a daydream. That step has finally made it onto my calendar. January Black is with an acquiring editor at the moment. I have one agent in New York that I want to query should that editor pass. And should the agent also pass, then I’ll probably go it alone. If it’s a process I can handle, maybe I’ll start my own press. (The mere thought kinda freaks me out!) Oddly enough, that decision would bring me back to my roots.