J. D. Petruzzi’s got a great post over on his blog that easily could have been (and probably should have been) the eighth post in my Things I Wish I Knew Then But Know Now series of posts that ended yesterday. Here’s the post in its entirety:

The realities of writing
Buddy Eric Wittenberg has made a very revealing series of posts over the past couple of weeks entitled “Things I Wish I Knew Then But Know Now” about the realities (oftentimes harsh realities) of writing about the Civil War. His posts could apply equally as well to any type of historical writing. There are 7 installments to Eric’s series and the first one is here.

His posts should be required reading for anyone considering, or starting out, writing about Civil War subjects. Eric’s insights may not prevent every novice writer from making certain mistakes or experiencing particular common pitfalls, but at least one would realize they’d been warned. Eric’s insights weren’t meant to turn any promising authors off from pursuing their dreams, but instead to make them aware of the realities of the nuts and bolts of the researching, costs, writing, publishing, and marketing aspects.

In just thinking about the various well-reasoned subjects that Eric posted about, I also thought of another this morning: Be prepared for criticism of your work. You gotta have a thick skin, folks. Criticism, both good and bad, of your work will only make you better at your researching, thinking, and writing. If you’re willing to put your work out there in print in front of thousands of people, you have to be prepared to take some heat. Some of it will be useful, others not. Like some authors, some readers have an agenda – and they won’t like your interpretations. We all get tomatoes thrown at us, and you just have to learn to duck and smile. But much of the criticism you receive will be very helpful – it will point out weaknesses in your research and you’ll learn a good lesson from it.

Let’s face it – regarding Civil War history, there are many things that are hard and fast facts. Many other things are open to interpretation. And sometimes things in each category can move back and forth – for instance, if some primary source comes to light for the first time and modifies something we previously thought was hard and fast. You have to learn that a subject you write about may be looked at differently down the road. Be able to adjust to that.

Previously, I’d mentioned that some authors/historians seem to have an “agenda.” We all know some whom we call, for lack of a better modifier, “contrarians.” Some seem to be out to change the historical record no matter what that takes – ignoring some evidence while reinterpreting other evidence. For some reason, they’re not happy that Gen. Joe Schmo’s cavalry charge happened in a particular place. Or that a particular unit was in a certain area of a battlefield for a rather mundane reason – they have to make their location a grandiose part of a much larger plan, attempting to reinterpret an entire battle. No matter that there’s no evidence for these reinterpretations, and that existing evidence, in fact, refutes their new “theories.” If you’re going to stick your neck out and attempt to change what historians feel to be established fact, then be prepared to take the heat in a mature way and back your interpretations with evidence. If you’re proven right, you will be deservedly lauded. If not, you have to roll with it.

So, when you get published (whether it be articles, books, or contributory material) you become somewhat of a public figure. As in politics, you will get commentary, praise, and criticism from all sides. Be prepared for it, and deal with it. Learn from it. Grow from it. Stand your ground when necessary and warranted, and be willing to adjust when necessary and warranted. Let’s face it, all of us authors will blow it from time to time – we will screw up the narration of an event. We’ll put the wrong person in the wrong place. We will map something incorrectly. We’ll put the wrong date on something. If we keep in mind that we weren’t “there,” and that everything we study and write about is based on the evidence that’s out there, we’ll be able to take shots from readers who, in many cases, may know more about something than we ourselves do.

For one more angle, I would also like to commend a couple of fantastic posts by my publisher, Ted Savas, on his personal blog. Recently he’s been posting about the “view” from the publisher’s angle, and his posts go hand in hand with Eric’s eye-opening series. See the first by Ted here, and the second here. Just as there are many myths about authors and writers, there are many misinterpetations when it comes to publishers. Ted’s very insightful posts will educate all of us about what publishers must deal with in today’s marketplace and the ever-changing demands of the consumer.

In the end, if you’re a budding author of any genre, don’t let any of what I, Eric, Ted, or others have to say turn you away from it. Write. Do it. And love it. Giving birth to a book is like putting breath into a child. You’ll likely never see your investments back, you’ll get criticism, praise, and you’ll be constantly frustrated.

And you will love and treasure every moment of it. Simply seeing my wife and family smile when one of my articles or books comes out puts a burst of wind into my sails, and I can’t wait to sink my money and time into the next project and do it all over again.

You’ll see. So stay with it.

Precisely. Well said, J.D.

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Although I indicated that I would participating in the annual conference of the Little Big Horn Associates in July in this post, I have changed my mind and have informed the powers that be that I will not be participating in the event.

I apologize for any inconvenience.

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I sincerely hope that this series of posts has shed some light on the issues that those of us who write Civil War history face. First, and foremost, I wanted to share my experiences with those of you who read this blog who are either working on, or are considering, your first book on the Civil War, so that you can gain insight from my ten years’ experience working in the arena. The lessons related here were hard-learned, and if you can gain something from then, I’m glad I undertook the project.

Second, for those of you who are consumers of Civil War history but have no interest in writing something of your own, I hope you gained some insight into the struggles that we all face in an ever-changing marketplace. Most importantly, I hope you now understand that unless we’re fortunate enough to teach Civil War history at a college or university, it’s all but impossible for us to make a living doing this, meaning that it is a labor of love, because we surely don’t get wealthy writing these books.

Third, I hope that those of you who’ve read this series now have a better understanding of precisely what goes into the publication process. Like politics and making sausage, it’s not a pretty thing and is probably best viewed on an empty stomach.

I also want to thank my fellow Civil War authors who contributed to the comments to the various posts in this series. Your insights and comments only add value to the insights for the readers. Thanks for taking the time to do so.

Finally, and as always, I want to thank my readers for indulging this series.

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The Process of Researching Your Book Will Cost Much More Than You Expect, So Plan Accordingly. In this, the final post of the series, I will address something that J. D. suggested in a comment to the last post. I actually had planned on ending the series with this particular subject, so J.D. beat me to the punch. Ah, well.

J.D. is absolutely correct about the costs associated with researching and writing one of these books. Let me very blunt about this. I’m self-employed. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid. It’s really as simple as that. Folks pay me in excess of $200 for my time, so it has to be worth my while to pry myself out of the office.

I also live far from places like the Library of Congress, National Archives, or even the Army history center in Carlisle, PA. We’re looking at a full day of driving each direction to get there, plus lodging costs.

The truth is that it’s cheaper for me to pay someone to do a lot of the legwork for me, which then permits me to bill hours here at the office. However, those folks expect to be paid for their time and effort, just as I do. Plus, there are aspects of the research that I do myself, and given my belief that one cannot properly write about these battles without having a solid grasp of how terrain impacted the action, I spend significant amounts of time on the ground learning the terrain. That’s not only time away from the office, it’s travel cost.

Finally, I buy a lot of books when doing my research. I prefer to have the books and not photocopies, so it means that I can spend significant sums to gather research material. Fortunately, a lot of the regimental histories are now available by reprint, or even better, can be downloaded from sites like Google’s book search site, which saves cost. Even for the downloads, you still have paper and toner costs associated with obtaining the materials, not to mention the time spent doing the searching.

There’s simply no way around it: typically, I spend more on doing the research for my books than I ever make in royalties. If you want proof positive that what I do is a labor of love and not necessarily done for a profit motive, that last statement should be all you need.

My advice to you is to keep in mind that you’re going to spend a lot of money researching your book, and that it’s probably going to be more than you think. Plan accordingly.

Tomorrow, I will do a quick wrap-up of this series, which I hope has been helpful to you.

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Your Book Will Cost You More Than You Expect, So Plan for It. There are lots of hidden costs associated with the process of publishing a book. As just one example, some publishers insist that the preparation of the book’s index is the author’s responsibility. If you’re like me and don’t have the time, patience, attention span, or inclination to do an index, you will be expected to pay someone else to do it. To be completely and entirely candid about it, there are fews things in the world that piss me off more than being expected to pay for the preparation of an index. I’ve always viewed that as the publisher’s responsibility, since it’s part of the process of preparing the book for publication, and with the software that’s presently available for book layout and design, it’s become quite easy to do. But, I’ve had publishers insist on charging me for the privilege of preparing an index, and it’s something that I really don’t appreciate.

Another hidden and unexpected cost is the cost of maps and illustrations. Cartography, in particular, can be very expensive. I am aware of one popular cartographer that demands $200 per map, which I won’t pay. Most are about $50 per map, and some go as high as $100 per map. I am a firm believer that no book can have enough maps, so you’ve got to be prepared to pay the costs associated with map preparation unless you have the skills to draw them yourself, which I do not.

Finally, there can be costs associated with getting permission to use illustrations. This is another thing that angers me. The illustrations are, almost without fail, in the public domain, so it escapes me how an entity can charge to use something that’s in the public domain. However, it’s probably wise to err on the side of safety and pay the requested fees to avoid trouble.

So, the upshot is to be prepared for costs and expenses associated with the preparation of your book that you never anticipated.

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To take a break from my Things I Wish I Had Known series of posts, here is a review of last night’s show. Fear not…there will be more Things tomorrow. Today, though, I want to do something completely different. Again, for those who only read this blog for the Civil War content, you will probably want to skip this post.

I’m an old New Waver. I admit it. I loved the New Wave. Some of those bands were truly great: Blondie, The Talking Heads, Joe Jackson, The Romantics, Squeeze, The Fixx, Elvis Costello and the Attractions, The Police, the Specials, Oingo Boingo, UB40, and on and on. I had a one-inch wide black leather tie. I wore black Chuck Taylor high tops. I just really liked the music. It was a lot of the soundtrack to my college years.

Last night, Elvis Costello and his new band, The Impostors, opened for The Police here. We spent a great night last night. I’d never seen Elvis live before, but had always wanted to. He played a rocking hour-long set that never stopped. It was one song leading right into another for the entire hour. He played an interesting mix of his newer material and his old classics from the days when he was an angry young man. His band was terrific–the keyboard player is one of the best I have ever heard, and he’s also got an excellent drummer. They put an interesting twist on his biggest commercial hit, “Allison (My Aim is True)”, turning it into a bluesy tune, and then they turned up the heat. They did “Watching the Detectives,” a special favorite from the old days. He did “Radio, Radio”, a song that was tremendously controversial for its time, but tame by today’s standards. The set concluded by Elvis doing his signature song, “Pump It Up” (a rocking version up the standard of the original) and closed with “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding”. The crowd was on its feet swaying and singing along, and the place was completely energized by the end of his set.

I have to say that it was worth the price of admission just to see Elvis. I’m not sure how I’ve managed not to see him live previously, but if the opportunity presents itself again, I will be sure to see him again, because it was a great set–terrific songs, really excellent musicianship, and lots of energy. He may not be an angry young man any more, but he can still play.

After whipping the crowd into a frenzy, they had to break down Elvis’ stuff, so there was about 20 minute break. It gave me a chance to check out the crowd. As has been the case with all three concerts we’ve been to this spring, there was lots of gray hair in the crowd, but there were also a lot of youngsters. The couple sitting directly behind us brought their son to the show. The boy didn’t look like he was much older than 7 or 8, and he got bored pretty quickly. I like watching crowds at events like this. It’s very entertaining.

The lights went down again, and out came The Police. This was my fifth time seeing them. I saw them in the summer of 1981, before “Ghost in the Machine” was released, and then again in February 1982, on the same tour. Then I saw them a third time in August 1983, in one of those all-day outdoor extravaganzas of rock at old JFK Stadium in Philadelphia. I was 22, had just graduated from college, and was about a week from packing up to move to Pittsburgh to start grad school. It was sort of my last hurrah. As for the band, they were on top of the world at the time, with their album Synchronicity the number one record in the world for most of the year, and they headlined a fabulous show. It was 103 degrees that day, and I’ve never been so dehydrated in my life. At that end of that tour, that was the end of The Police. Sting began his solo career, and I never thought I would see them again.

Fortunately, I was wrong. Susan and I saw them in Cleveland last July early on the first leg of this tour, and then again last night. The set was different last night from what we saw in July, and the band was, if anything, even more tight than the were last summer. We saw an even better band last night.

Sting still sounds great. His unique voice is still as clear as ever, and he’s a tremendous bass player. At 64, Andy Summers is still a virtuoso guitar player, and Stewart Copeland is still a wild man on the drums. The magic is still there. These three are proof of the old cliche about the whole being greater than the sum of the parts. They bring out the best (and the worst) in each other, and it creates magic on stage. Their songs, which are no less than 25 years old at this point, still stand the test of time. It’s remarkable.

I’ve always loved Sting’s lyrics. As he pointed out last night, before he had this job, as he put, he was a schoolteacher. What other rocker makes the literary allusions he makes? References to Humbert Humbert in Lolita, or referring to Scylla and Charybdis from the tale of the Sirens in The Odyssey? Or that a song about a prostitute (“Roxanne”) is actually a veiled reference to Cyrano de Bergerac? His lyrics are often poetry set to music, which has always appealed to the writer in me.

The show began with Sting seated with a mandolin, doing a quiet but powerful version of “Bring On the Night.” That quickly changed, though, and the crowd was soon on its feet, singing along, with the whole list of great songs. They did “Synchronicity II”, “Wrapped Around My Finger”, and “King of Pain” from Synchronicity, “Demolition Man”, “One World”, and “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” from Ghost in the Machine, “Don’t Stand So Close to Me”, “When the World is Running Down”, “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da”, and “Voices Inside Your Head” from Zenyatta Mondatta.

The best part of the show was hearing them do a lot of songs from their first two albums: “Message in a Bottle”, “Walking on the Moon”, “Can’t Stand Losing You”, “Next To You”, “Driven to Tears”, “So Lonely”, and, of course, the one that started it all, “Roxanne”, done with a bluesy, jazzy sort of an arrangement. The last encore–they came back out three times–was “Next to You,” a rocking reminder of the energy of the early days of the New Wave. The crowd knew every word to every song, and it sang along with great gusto, swaying and dancing the whole time. We were on our feet for nearly the entire show.

At the end of it all, I was left with a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, I’d been handed a reprieve. I got to see The Police two more times when I never expected to have that opportunity again. For that, I am grateful. At the same time, as the lights came back up, I realized it was over, that this would be the last time that I ever saw these three men make magic together again.

But Sting’s final words echoed in my ears. After he, Stewart and Andy took a bow, he cryptically said, “We’ll see you again” before leaving the stage. What does that mean? Hope springs eternal that they will find their way into the studio and give us one more great album before going their separate ways once more, but who knows. I’m just glad I got to enjoy one last night of magic.

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Everyone Needs an Editor. Yes, Even You. “There are two kinds of editors, those who correct your copy and those who say it’s wonderful,” wrote the eminent political historian, Theodore H. White. He was absolutely correct.

Everyone needs an editor. There’s not a writer alive who doesn’t. That means you, and it likewise means me, too. I will be the first to admit that editors make my work better. A good editor can make a good work a great one, and a decent one a good one. One prominent book editor summed up the role of the editor quite nicely. “I see my [editorial] role as helping the writer to realize he or her intention. I never want to impose any other goal on the writer, and I never want the book to be mine,” she wrote. A good editor can help you realize your vision even when you’ve reached the point where you just don’t see the problems with your manuscript any more. And I guarantee you that every writer reaches that point sooner or later. Likewise, a good editor’s work is transparent to anyone but you as the author–the reading public should never be able to tell where your work ends and the editor’s work begins.

In a perfect world, author and editor form a seamless team. Both share a common vision for the work, and both are dedicated to making it the best work possible. There has to be chemistry between the author and the editor, or the project will be in serious trouble. On one of my projects with Potomac Books, they assigned a copy editor that claimed to be knowledgeable about the Civil War, but proved not to be. I had to educate him, and we never developed a chemistry between us. Before long, I was responding to each of his inquiries with a surly, grouchy response. It was an awful experience, and I told the publisher that if this guy ever came near one of my projects again, I would pull the project from Potomac Books and take it elsewhere. And I was as serious as a heart attack when I said that. Fortunately, they realized that I was serious, and he came nowhere near the next book that I did with Potomac.

Here’s another tip. While the author has the ultimate say, the editor usually isn’t making suggestions about things just for their amusement or good health. Take those suggestions seriously; they’re offered for the betterment of your project. With the notable exception of the idiot referenced in the last paragraph, I rarely veto the suggestions of my editors for just that reason. I have found that they rarely steer you wrong.

However, as I said in the last post, you’ve got to set your ego aside when you deal with an editor. You cannot get offended by their constructive criticisms, and you likewise cannot allow your ego to cause you to dig your heels in and disregard a good suggestion of your editor just because you’ve got your boxers in a bunch over something that the editor said. You just can’t do that.

The editor’s role is crucial, and a good one can make or break your book. Keep that in mind when you deal with your editor, or be prepared to suffer the consequences.

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It’s All About the Marketing, Stupid. There are several reasons why I enjoy working with Ted Savas so much. First, Ted and I have been friends for a long time. Second, we share the same philosophies about what makes a good book, including the idea that there can never be too many maps or illustrations in a book. Most importantly, though, is that Ted gets marketing. Even though he’s a lawyer by training, Ted has a very strong entrepreneurial spirit, and he gets marketing. He’s been really successful with selling his books, with placing them with the book clubs, and even in selling the movie rights to one of his titles. What’s more, he encourages his authors to market, because everyone benefits from the sale of books. Ted’s marketing director, Sarah Keeney, maintains a blog on the topic of marketing and selling books, which I commend to you.

Bruce Franklin, the owner of Westholme Publishing, is also adept at marketing. Bruce has been tremendously successful in getting his titles, including Russ Bonds’ Stealing the General, reviewed in The Wall Street Journal, which really spurs sales. Dan Hoisington, of Edinborough Press, who will be publishing my Dahlgren bio, is also astute at marketing; he provides each of his authors with their own web site to hawk their books.

These three, however, are the exception and not the rule. Most publishers are abysmal at marketing. Thomas Publications, which published my first book, is terrible at it. At least when I was doing business with them, they were not affiliated with a distributor, meaning that unless the book was sold in Gettysburg or on Amazon, forget it. Your book will never, ever stand a chance of getting into the big box bookstores. As I mentioned in yesterday’s update to the first post in this series, Potomac Books is absolutely horrible at marketing. I can’t tell you how many times I complained about the wretched job of marketing was being done by them, and nothing helped.

My biggest gripe is with the university presses. Since they really don’t have to worry about making a profit for the most part, they don’t do much marketing at all. As I said in the first post in this series, LSU sold 5 copies of my book last year. Kent State, which has also published three of my books, also does not do an especially good job of marketing, although Susan Cash, the marketing director, tries. Maybe it’s that they tend to price their books at outrageous prices. I don’t know. I just know that the titles that they have published haven’t sold at all.

And then there’s McFarland, in a league all of its own for abysmal marketing and for ridiculously expensive pricing. At least they’re honest about it. They don’t even attempt to sell their books to the big box retailers.

So, it falls upon the author to sell his or her own book. You’ve got to get out there and sell it. For me, it’s a trade-off. I’m self-employed, and if I don’t work, I don’t get paid. Consequently, I’ve got to do a careful balancing between what’s the best use of my time. I do as many appearances as I can, but certainly not as many as I could simply because I cannot afford to be away from the office any longer than I already am. I try to maintain a fairly high profile for my work, and I’m getting ready to launch a website for the sole purpose of selling my books (the design is nearly finished; I will announce its launch here when it’s ready).

J.D. and I put up a website to sell Plenty of Blame to Go Around: Jeb Stuart’s Controversial Ride to Gettysburg, and it’s been successful. Its companion site, for One Continuous Fight: The Retreat from Gettysburg and the Pursuit of Lee’s Army of Norther Virginia, July 4-14, 1863, is being finalized as I write this.

Don’t expect your publisher to sell your books. Be grateful when it does. Otherwise, you’ve got to do it yourself. That’s an important piece of information that I really wish I had known ten years ago.

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Be Careful What You Wish For. You Just Might Get It. I’ve learned that having someone review my work for accuracy and readability is imperative. When he was still alive and well enough to do so, Brian Pohanka read just about everything that I wrote, and often gave excellent feedback. I still have a network of people that I turn to to provide this invaluable service, including, but not limited to, J. D. Petruzzi, Scott Patchan, Horace Mewborn, Bob O’Neill, Teej Smith, and one or two others. Their feedback is critical. They point out mistakes. They point out bad writing. And most of all, they give me their honest, unblinking assessment of my work, whether it’s what I want to hear or not. Inevitably, the work is ALWAYS better as a result of the feedback that I get from them, and I value the fact that they feel comfortable enough with our relationships to do that for me, knowing that I will set my ego aside and not get offended by whatever they might have to say about what I’ve asked them to read for me.

It can be difficult to hear somebody say “this sucks,” especially when you’ve poured your heart and soul into the work. But, you have to hear that feedback, take it to heart, and make the changes that they suggest. And you have to do so with no ego. You can’t get all offended by it and get all huffy and sulky over it. Otherwise, you can jeopardize your relationships, and your ego can get in the way of producing your best product.

The first time I had someone review my work and it got shredded, it stung. My feelings were hurt, and I sulked about it for a few days. Susan reminded me that I’d asked for an honest assessment, so I had no right to sulk over it. The gist of her comment was, “be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.” And she was right.

The simple truth is that you’ve just got to suck it up, say thank you, and do what needs to be done to make your product what you want it to be. You can’t sulk over it, and you most assuredly cannot be offended by it.

I try to do the same thing when I’m asked to review things. First, I appreciate the effort that others have given on my behalf, and I try to return the favor whenever possible. But I will not ever sugarcoat things. I tell people that they’re going to get an honest and unblinking assessment of their work and that if they think that can’t take that, then they’re better off not asking me to review their stuff for them. Ultimately, it’s not worth losing a friendship over. At the same time, I’m not doing them any favors if I don’t tell them the God’s honest truth about their work. And if they get all huffy about it after being warned, then it’s on them and not on me.

The bottom line is: be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. If you don’t want an honest and unblinking assessment of your work, then please don’t waste my time or yours by asking me to review it for you. In return, I will do exactly the same thing.

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Not Every Book Is Worthy of Publication. Writers write. That’s what we do. Some of us do it better than others. That’s not a criticism, it’s a statement of fact. I was blessed with some natural ability that has been honed from years of hard work. My writing has improved greatly from the early days simply because I’ve done so much of it. I still cringe when I read some of my early historical writings because they’re that bad.

On one hand, I’m very fortunate that I have never written anything that was intended for publication which was not accepted for publication. I know for a fact that there are very few people who can say that they’re batting 1.000 when it comes to having everything they’ve ever written published. Some of it is skill. Some of it is good luck in picking the right topic at the right time. Some of it is knowing the right people. I’ve never known the pain of a rejection letter for any of my work, but I know plenty of writers who claim it as a right of passage, sort of like fraternity hazing.

On the other hand, there are lots of people out there who think that they can write but have no business doing so. In my role as a publisher, I’ve had some God-awful manuscripts submitted to me. I can appreciate the effort and dedication that went into them, but it sometimes takes all of my willpower not to want to bash these people over the head and tell them the honest truth about just how terrible their work is. I remember one incident where a guy submitted an unsolicited manuscript of a Civil War novel that was, without doubt, the worst thing I have ever read. His main character was a Union soldier who somehow managed to fight in every single major battle of the war. That’s an interesting trick, swinging from theater to theater. Now, if that wasn’t bad enough, his best friend was a runaway slave who had enlisted in a regiment with the outbreak of the war in 1861. Never mind that blacks weren’t enlisted until the formation of the 54th Massachusetts in 1862. Mix in the fact that the writing was terrible, and you have a recipe for horridness that words almost cannot describe. I spent a week composing a rejection letter that was gentle but honest.

I am often asked to review things for people. Whenever my schedule permits, I try to accommodate those requests in an effort to return the many favors done for me over the years, although I often don’t get to things as quickly as they or I might like. Some of the things I read are quite good, and when that happens, I try to assist in placing it with a publisher. The best example of that I can think of was Russ Bonds’ very excellent Stealing the General. Within a few pages, I knew I was reading something special, and by the time I had finished it, I was determined to see it published. I’m the one who introduced Russ to Bruce Franklin, the publisher at Westholme Publishing, and Bruce saw the same merit in the book that I saw. Russ has hit the motherlode as a result: he’s sold a LOT of books, and he’s even optioned the movie rights. It doesn’t get much better than that. I’ve introduced a few others to Ted Savas in particular when I’ve thought there was merit in the work.

Some of the stuff I read is atrocious. Just a couple of weeks ago, I reviewed a chapter of a regimental history dealing with the 1864 Overland Campaign. It was so full of errors that I ended up largely rewriting it. But for what I did, the book would have been dead wrong, and would have been savaged by reviewers. That goes beyond what I’m normally willing to do, but I like the fellow who sent the chapter, and I wanted it to be correct, so I invested the better part of a day and a half into rewriting his chapter for him.

Here’s another story, and then I will come to my point. Several years ago, I was paid to ghostwrite a book for someone. Even after I did all I could for it short of doing additional research, which was not part of my contract, it’s still a bad book. The author self-published it because the original publisher elected to wash its hands of a bad book after I reported back on just how bad it was. The truth is that it was such a bad book that I didn’t want my name to appear on it, and I’m pleased to say that it doesn’t.

My point is that there are plenty of books in print that shouldn’t be. Self-publishing through venues like Xlibris, Lulu, or IUniverse makes it possible for things that never should/would have been published to find their way into print. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule; Fred Ray’s excellent Shock Troops of the Confederacy and Eric Jacobson’s For Cause & For Country come to mind immediately as self-published works that are quite good and worthwhile. Both had legitimate reasons for going the self-publication route, and I appreciate those reasons.

Don’t get me wrong: the self-publishing venue has some merits, such as providing a means for bringing out of print works back into print. However, it also lends a lot of credibility to works that don’t deserve that credibility. Some argue that self-publishing democratizes the practice, but it also means that a lot of trees get killed to publish awful books that never should have been published in the first place.

My point is that not everything that gets written deserves to be published. If a legitimate publisher tells you that, accept it and move on. Don’t subject the world to an atrocious book that adds nothing to the body of knowledge just to massage your ego.

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