Monday Update

Well, the Bears lost. "Bad Rex," the inept persona of Quarterback Rex Grossman, showed up. We're lucky we didn't get blitzed even worse then we did.

On the weather front, DAMN is it cold. Weather.com says it's zero in Darien. Saturday I was at work, moving servers from one building to another, and thought I would freeze. Now I'm trying to decide if I really want to go out for lunch or just go hungry.

Lastly, Jim Hines, author of the delightful book Goblin Quest, is starting a campaign to save his book from the strippers. It's hilarious - click the box below.

A taxonomy of self-publishers

Everybody’s heard of self-publishing, AKA “vanity publishing” or “co-op publishing” or sometimes, incorrectly, Print On Demand (POD). As a public service, here is a helpful field guide to the various species of self-publishers.

Most frequently seen in the wild is the Common Clueless. Also known as the Pale-bellied No Homework, this species is identified by its wild-eyed stares and a high-pitched call of “I’m published, buy me!” The Common Clueless is simply ignorant of the basic economic principles of publishing.

The Lesser Willfuls are a closely related species, and externally identical. The chief differentiator between them and the Common Clueless is that the Lesser Willfuls are exceptionally hard of hearing, especially with regards to publishing facts, and tend to react unfavorably to unwelcome information.

A loud but less populace species, the Greater Ring-necked Soapbox, really don’t care about the economics of self-publishing. They have a Message, and find writing a book more effective then standing on a soapbox on a streetcorner. Either that, or they are less likely to get wet and cold, and have better working hours. The species is divided into two subspecies, depending on habitat. In the shadier regions, one finds the Bald-faced Snakeoils. These are noted by their continued efforts to sell victims additional products, such as UFO repellant. In the more well-lit regions, one finds the Wide-Eyed True Believers. These tend to truly believe that, for example, their neighbor’s swimming pool really is a portal to a UFO base.

Another colorful species is the Flamboyant Artistes. They are convinced that their work, usually of an experimental or unconventional nature (such as spelling, punctuation, or occasionally plot and characterization) isn’t being fully appreciated by the jaundiced eyes of conventional publishing. Much like the Lesser Willfuls, they tend to react unfavorably to contradiction.

In many ways the exact opposite of the Artistes are the Low-Profile Keepsakers. They are primarily interested in publishing as a handy way to package information, such as great aunt Mildred’s recipes, and have no intent of selling to a wider market. Because of this, they are even harder to find then the typical self-publisher, since they undertake no marketing efforts.

The Hobbyist is the last and in many ways least common self-publisher. Some members of this species consider themselves Editors, whether of micro-presses or fanzines. All members understand, at least on an intellectual level, that the best way to get rich quick in the publishing industry is to buy a winning lottery ticket. While they typically have no objection to becoming a best seller, if and until that happens they are content to keep churning out work. They have the most realistic appreciation of the economics of publishing.