Unattainable Perfection

I was going to title this "In the Home Stretch," but then I realized I have used that title. I seem to be in the home stretch frequently. That may be because the finish line keeps receding. I'm sure I've left out at least a dozen steps as I try to record what I'm doing to write, publish, and promote Words To Live By.

It's painful to admit publicly, but I never realized just how many steps it takes to produce a little book (and it IS little). Every proof I receive has mistakes. What is so frustrating is that these are not new mistakes; they are mistakes we (the copy editor and I) didn't catch. The last proof, which was the third, required ten tiny corrections, which meant a new high-resolution PDF to be uploaded to CreateSpace, all of CreateSpace's rules to follow again, and another proof to be mailed back to me. I guess it will never be perfect no matter how many times I read it, and frankly, I am not eager to read it again.

What complicates this process is that I have two book in progress, both at exactly the same stage of publication. The other one is the sixth edition of How to Write a Nonfiction Book. That means I am reading two proofs, making or overseeing two sets of corrections, and sending and receiving two sets of files. When I said I was "updating" my existing book, I didn't realize how much I would be adding or that a poltergeist would get involved. Short of throwing things around, this one has done almost as much damage. All I can say is save your files with draft numbers and dates, and back up, back up, back up.

Last week, I attended a presentation by Mark Levine, author of The Fine Print of Self-Publishing: the Contracts & Services of 45 Self-Publishing Companies—Analyzed, Ranked & Exposed. Mark and I had a nice chat while I was buying his book. He asked me who was printing mine. I told him. He said, "Well, don't read that part."

Words fail me.

Another Class; Another Magic Moment

I’ve been teaching a class in how to write, publish and promote your nonfiction book for several years. I have taught it to individuals and groups, for the University of Missouri-St. Louis, the Lindbergh School District’s Adult Education Program, and the St. Louis Community College. Every class is unique, of course. The students are adults of all ages and backgrounds. They have lived lives before they walked into what could be “just another noncredit course.” It might be fun, or it might be a complete waste of time. They don’t know, but I think I do. By the end of the first two hours, I hope I have convinced them that this is going to be a different kind of class, not what they expected, and perhaps even a life-changing event.

I hope that doesn’t sounds arrogant. I say it because I have experienced the incredible dynamics and personal transformations that take place in these classes, year after year. It is difficult to describe the synergy that occurs within a group of strangers who mesh in some inexplicable way. Someone has a question; two people offer answers. One person is stumped on which direction to take; another responds with compassion and insight. And I stand at the front of this high school classroom, transfixed, yet again.

My new class met last night — the class I had wondered whether to teach at all because of the low enrollment. Ultimately, I decided to “trust the process” (see sweatshirt on my last blog) and am so grateful for that decision. The process worked (it always does). Somehow, we ended up with 10 amazing people. I do not use the word “amazing” lightly. It is a wonderful group of individuals who are writing about subjects as diverse and substantive as I could ever hope for.

Some had their sentences nailed: “My book is about _________________.” Others were not so sure, torn between two good ideas and trying to get in touch with their real passion for one of them. This is the exciting part — when everyone is turned on by the possibilities. It is my job to keep them turned on and moving forward toward their completed books. I have no illusions that anyone will write a book in six weeks, unless he or she works on it every waking hour, but I do know they can learn what it takes and get a good start on actually doing it.

I emerge from each of these classes greatly enriched by the people I’ve met and the things I've learned from them. This semester promises to be one of the best ever!