WRITING: Self-Publishing with Jonny Ballzup

I do like doing this, this creation of something out of my own imagination, this jumble of words which somehow seems to make sense (to me anyhow).

So I have published my first book, on my own, with the help of Amazon granted, but without the need of a publisher, who, quite frankly, were all beginning to get on my nerves a little.

They say that to publish a book, you need to send out 100 manuscripts, or as I like to call them ‘rejections’, and if you don’t, you’re not working hard enough. Well I worked hard enough, got my 100 rejections, got little usable feedback, hell I wasn’t even sure the lilly livered cowards were reading the synopsis and the samples I’d sent them en-masse, I began to realise that to be represented I had to be either (a) a celebrity, (which, outside of Verwood, I am not) or (b) a chef.

Without either, or preferably both, they wouldn’t be interested.

So the options to publish were either to wait for the next 10 years whilst the myriad of publishers realised that my book, Subterranean Black, still available on Amazon BTW, was bloody marvelous (I use these words not necessarily because it is bloody marvelous, but merely to illustrate that I am still a self-publicist), or, to train to become a chef.

Now I like cooking and I’m quite good at it, but I’ll be damned if I’ll spend the next 5 years learning how to toss a salad, just so as I can get a publisher.

I could, of course, take up a chefs role at the local Berni Inn, then run a muck with a carving knife naked thus becoming a celebrity and a chef, and therefore doubling my selling power, but it seemed like a bit of a fag frankly, and anyhow, I wouldn’t want to be represented by somebody who’d represent a naked chef…

..hold on…

…even that’s been taken (bloody Jamie Oliver, cor blimey).

So it was the self-publishing route for me and whilst the income is measurable in how many visits I can now make to the Pizza Hut buffet, which currently is around 6, it’s 6 sets of stuffed crust and a side salad I wouldn’t have had before.

And that, surely, is not a bad thing.

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