I suppose with self-publishing, you also have to self-slush. Which means, given the normal ratio of rejection to acceptance, you would have to reject 99.9% of your own stuff. You could write yourself rejection letters, then get annoyed when it's clear they're form rejections and the bastard publisher clearly hadn't bothered reading the submission. You could play tricks on yourself, like leaving a hair between two pages to see if you'd notice. You could write articles to yourself, about how to make your submissions more attractive to, um, yourself. When you keep getting rejected, you could set up your own manuscript agency and charge yourself several hundred pounds for a report on your book (well, at least you'd keep the dosh in the family).
No wonder the first Harry Potter was picked up by the publisher's daughter and not the publisher! |
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Hmmm . . . I'm suspicious of that story. Ditto the one about JKR being a penniless single mother, forced to write in cafes, making a cup of tea last all day (seems like the truth is her sister said she could live free with her for a year while she wrote the first book). It's all great PR, much better than: middle-class woman decides to make some money by writing a children's book in her spare time that's derivative, unoriginal, clearly commercial, with just enough charm to make it seem more innocent than it actually is.
Terry