Page 68 of Script Swap
He didn’t say anything.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said.
When Bobby spoke again, his tone was so encouraging that I wanted to crawl under my blanket.It was the forced enthusiasm of someone who didn’t quite know what he was talking about, but who wanted to be excited about it for your sake.“You know, I did some research.”
“Yeah?”
“Publishing has changed a lot.Especially in the last few years.It’s different from how it was when your parents were getting started, I mean.”
After careful consideration of my options, I finally said, “How so?”
“Well, there are fewer publishers.And not as many people read books now.There aren’t as many bookstores.”
“Bobby, I appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t matter.The fact is that new authors get published all the time; I’m not one of them.”
“Right, but that’s what I was going to say.Did you know that there are a lot of books—and I mean alot—that are successful.They sell hundreds of thousands of copies, and the authors make millions, but you’d never see their books in a bookstore, and you’d never read a book review about them.”
A hole opened up inside me, and my stomach plummeted through it.
“You can do it all yourself,” Bobby said, and he smiled as he rubbed my foot again.“You don’t have to submit it to a publisher.You don’t have to find an agent.You hire an editor, or if that’s too expensive, you can do what’s called crowdsourcing.And I’m pretty good at finding typos, and Indira isgood.And you can get someone to make a cover for you—I know Fox might not be your first choice, but I bet they’d like the opportunity to try, and they could always recommend a graphic designer they know.Or we can ask Jess’s grandma.”
Jess was Jess Dahlberg—as in, Deputy Dahlberg.But that wasn’t the problem.I don’t know who was talking because it wasn’t me, but it sounded like my voice when someone said, “Jess’s grandma?”
“She writes tons of books.Jess told me she has almost a hundred.”
“A hundred books.”
He waited.His smile got even bigger.“Dash, you don’t have to wait for someone to tell you your book is good.We already know it’s good!We can publish it ourselves.”
The wind was keening now.One of the shutters, not quite fastened, rattled back and forth.The sound grew louder and louder.Faster and faster.
“You’re talking about self-publishing,” I said.
Bobby’s smile was almost indulgent.“Actually, it’s called indie publishing.”
The wind sounded like someone screaming.
“Yeah,” I said.“Okay.”
“Isn’t that awesome?I mean, it’s perfect.It cuts out the middleman.All those people who don’t see how good your work is, you don’t have to worry about them anymore.All you have to do is write the best book you possibly can and share it with people.”
“Right,” I said.My lips felt thick, too big, anesthetized.“That’s great.It’s, I don’t think it’s always that easy.You know.To find readers.A lot of books get self-published.There’s a lot of junk out there.”
“Indie published,” Bobby said, giving my foot another wiggle.“But good stuff rises to the top, Dash.”
“Does it?”I asked.“That must be why nobody wants my book.”
Bobby must have chosen to ignore that part because he continued, “And readers today don’t care.Most of them don’t even know, that’s what Jess said.If you get a good cover and have the book professionally edited, nobody can tell.”
“But I’d know.”
A crease marked Bobby’s forehead.“Well, yeah.”
“I don’t know,” I said.
That loose shutter was slamming back and forth now.The wind sounded like fingernails on the glass.
“It’s something to explore, though, right?”
