The first duty of those
who love literature is to insure that it is capable of living and
developing. All manner of love devolves
upon this definition, which abides in the unconscious of the species, and is true
by reason of its logical form alone.
As to love, I have
never seen a magazine more like a book than the Spring, 2013 issue of The
Virginia Quarterly Review. This is true
for two reasons. This VQR has the
permanence of a book. Its cover is heavy
and moisture-shedding. Its pages resist
the impatience of the turn. It even
loves itself and you enough to give itself a frontispiece.
Then, there is the
matter of enduring importance. Both its
fiction and its non-fiction has such utility and richness that I could not ever
part with it. After the cemetery, when
they return to the house to divide those things I’ve laid up, they will find
this magazine surrounded by two thousand books.
They will wonder why this magazine was not thrown out long ago. Then my children will strum the pages. They will see its margins filled with my
notes and its printing painted in a yellow which tried to be abstemious. And then, one of them will keep it, too; and
they will love it more than I did.
Now to work. Some editors and agents will disqualify a
novel or a story if they find it residing in the stacks of Kindle. They will say that they do not use “reprints.” They will say you are already published. I see two motives behind this definition of a "publisher."
Their motive may be
that your work has popped its cherry, and they only bed down virgins. With these folks, the rejection is abrupt,
and I hear their high pitched sniff.
Other times, the word
of parting is almost tearful and reluctant.
These well-meaning people worry about the penury that comes from
familiarity with lawyers. Yes, I
agree. Stay away from that breed until you’re
going down for the third time.
On page 38 of the
Spring, 2013 VQR, a Mr. Simon Lipskar, president of the literary agency of Writer’s House, supplies
us a useful definition. To quote: “…they talk about…the royalty that Amazon
pays through KDP. That’s not a
royalty. A royalty is when you get
something from a publisher…it’s a distribution fee.”
Mr. Lipskar seems to
say that “self-publishing” (on Kindle, at least), is not "publishing" at
all. It is more like “self-stocking” of
a shelf left bare for you by a store.
What else in this round-robin discussion in VQR might serve to re-define
Kindle as something other than a "publisher?"
They mention curating and gatekeeping as publishing jobs. Kindle does not do that either.
Perhaps understood (though
never mentioned) in their 12-page discussion is the job function of the kindly
editor. He provides more light (than
heat) for those of us who write in total isolation. Kindle does not do this either. Kindle does not even know that my “ones and
zeroes” are within their servers.
In service to a dear
lady who recently wished to publish two pieces of mine (and who reluctantly had
to pass for fear of lawyers and copyright laws), I pulled up the fine print of
both Kindle and the web-host of GoodStorySaloon.com.
My words: Kindle does not claim any property rights
with “plain-vanilla-Kindle.” You may be
published either electronically or hard-copy anytime parties can agree. In the case of “Kindle Select,” you may, once
again, be published hard-copy anytime parties can agree. However, in this form (which is an elective
for you, if you choose it), you are enjoined for as much as 90 days from
publishing your work electronically. After
that, you are at liberty to contract out your property as you wish.
As for me, I have a
quarter-million words+ on Kindle (and another 125K ready) not in any
expectation of a payday. That would be
nice, but I won’t hold my breath waiting for readers to find me. For me, Kindle is a display case. Kindle enables any editor, publisher, or agent
(who permits himself to be induced to visit my author page) to find four previews
of twenty pages each. From this, they
can, in brief and in part, evaluate my work.
Because of Kindle, my work waits upon their pleasure day and night.
I say Amazon Kindle
does a very big service to mankind. For
the undiscovered author, Kindle is a tool with a specific, and a proper and a
productive use. It may be that Amazon will
empower the next Shakespeare, and, thereby, ratchet-up the human consciousness
and condition.
If your rejection is made because your piece shows up on Kindle, I say that the slush-pile editor is either misinformed, or that he does not love literature. On one level, there
exists for any word as many meanings as there are motives. On another level, every word has but one.
Submitted by the
booktender of the Good Story Saloon on September 24, 2013.
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