The Publishing Process Gives Me a Headache!!!

Hello!!!

So, if you have read any of my previous posts and are familiar with my work, then you are well aware that I wrote a novel and am in the midst of the publication process. 

If this is the first post you’ve seen of mine, then welcome! Feel free to follow or like!!!! It would truly make my day!!!

Originally, I was going to go about publishing through the traditional route. Yeah… Not anymore… It’s not that there’s anything necessarily wrong with the traditional route, so much as it’s just a serious struggle. 

If you’re unfamiliar with what the traditional route of publishing is, let me explain. There are multiple ways to go about it, whether it be through an agent or yourself, but ultimately, you send your finished manuscript to a publishing company. From there, they either say, “Nah, we’ll pass,” or, “Yeah! We’ll publish!” 

Now, you see, I’m only sixteen, so this way has some serious Pro’s and Con’s that I had to think about. 

Pros:

  • Lots of help with the stuff you are still new to and ignorant about. 
  • A better publicity (if you have good publishers). 
  • Less work on your part (Apart from writing the book that is). 

Cons:

  • No control over a majority of the piece. Companies take over the cover, fonts, hell! Sometimes they change the plot a bit!
  • Very little profit unless you’re a New York Times bestseller. 
  • You’re left out of the loop a lot. 
  • Half the time, you aren’t given as much marketing and publicity as your work deserves. 

Now, I know what you’re likely thinking, you’re not even published yet… How could you know all this stuff. Well, for technicalities sake, I don’t know this information first hand. Let’s just say I’ve done lots of research on which way is better to go about with publishing. 

Ultimately, I’ve decided on the self-publishing route. 

I’m doing my self-publishing through an Amazon source known as Createspace! It certainly is proving to be a great service. There are consultants to help you if you happen to get confused, and they have a step by step publishing process set up! 

Overall, the service has me in full control of my work. I create my cover, the book size, the fonts, the design, EVERYTHING! 

Of course, it’s a lot of work for a sixteen year old drowning in last minute homework and finals studying! Seriously, why do teachers feel it necessary to cram in a bunch of homework, quizzes, and projects the week before finals. Not only am I studying for that, but I have a huge workload to take care of!!! Oh, the agony!

Agony~! Agony~! (Song from Into the Woods…)

Anyhow, the whole dang thing is overwhelming. I’d like to have the entire form ready to be submitted by New Years, but dear lord, it sure is frustrating. 

Of course, I certainly prefer this way of publishing compared to searching for an agent, and then a company. Not only is this route cheaper, but it’s also more officiant!

Now, for those of you who are now officially interested, I’ve decided to offer a little exert from my, soon to be published, novel, Gazer!!!!

Here you go!!!!
 I simply stand in front of the bathroom mirror as it slowly fogs up with steam. 

All I do is stare. I don’t think. Just stare at the reflection I pity. I finally pity myself the same as I would a killed deer on the side of the road, in which the hunters took nothing but antlers, leaving a carcass that still had something to do in life. But that’s where me and roadkill differ. I have nothing left to do. I’m not a shell of a person. No. I’m a person without a shell. My armor broke a long time ago, and I was too dumb and too blind to notice. So, for so long, I have been unprotected and it’s finally catching up to me. 

         No tears fall. Neither do they gather. They just don’t exist. I can’t decide if crying would be better. I’ve always heard that letting out a good cry is supposed to feel great but, here and now, I don’t want to cry. I want to sulk. I want to bath in the ‘what if’s and ‘might have been’s. I want to imagine myself if I had a voice. 

          And that’s exactly what I do. 

         I picture myself on the back of Harry’s Harley, screaming into the wind as it glides across my face and dances through my hair. My arms are wrapped around him. We’re zipping down the road that trails along the beach, staring out at the ocean as the sun sets. It feels as if life could be perfect. 

When he drops me off at home, I tell him something, with a voice. The voice I give myself is odd. Not odd, per say, more like, different then what I expected. And I have no clue as to where it came from! But it’s pretty and it flows like the cursive hand writing of a calligraphist. It makes me feel beautiful, sending shivers down my spine. 

Funny, huh? How can a voice, just one of your five senses, make you feel beautiful? The answer: I don’t know. But I do know that I truly feel magnificent as I bathe in the moonlight. As we bathe in the moonlight. He gives me a kiss before I head inside. A wonderful sensation fills me. When I enter my house I see-

          My imagination is cut short by a knock on the door. “Gazer, you okay?” Harry asks through the wood, and I swear I am so close to hysteria. I feel like my mind has not only hit, but crashed into, rock bottom. And I got crushed by the impact. 

         I can’t say I’m fine. He knows that. But even if I could, I don’t really want to. Because that would be the biggest lie I have ever told. Saying, ‘I’m fine,’ is a common pattern of the depressed. But I’m not depressed. I’m not sad

I’m done

I’m done with the world turning its back on me. 

I’m done with never being given a chance. 

I’m done with not doing anything spectacular.

I’m not stuck. I’m not stuck with the idea that I’m held back by my voice. I’m moving forward. But everytime I move forward, the world decides to spin back. If I move back; the world goes forward. For me, Earth is just a merry-go-round that I’m tired of being on. It makes me dizzy, and I don’t doubt that soon, it’ll spin too fast, and I’ll fall off. 

        I am beyond done. I am beyond fixable. I am beyond broken.

         I’m StarGazer and nothing more. 



No, this book isn’t about depression, though it does play a role. The story is realistic fiction, and it’s about Kenya StarGazer Orteka’s continuous struggle caused by her condition. Yep, she is mute, as in no voice. 

All in all, it’s about her figuring out who she is, what her life is about, what everything means. She struggles over her faith, her confidence, her pride, love, and everything else imaginable. 

It’s a primarily happy, but still realistic, ending type story (I love happily ever after’s)! And yes, there is a romantic subplot. 

Any questions, don’t be afraid to ask me!

Follow, like, comment!!! The whole shabang!!! Bye bye!!!

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