Creative nonfiction: a new approach to journalism - Arja Salafranca

Writer Chuck Palahniuk is off to interview movie star Juliette Lewis. Afterwards he’s going to write a profile of the actress called ‘In her own words’. A bold promise is implied in that title, but in his piece Palahniuk more than lives up to that promise:

“One time,” Juliette Lewis says, “I wanted to get to know someone better by writing down questions to him…” She says, “The questions are more telling about me than anything I could write in a diary.”
She’s holding a handwritten list she’s just found and reads:“Did you ever stab someone or cut them intentionally with a sharp object?”
She reads: “Do you like asparagus?”
She reads: “Do you have a middle name?”
“Do cats frustrate you as pets, or do you admire their independence?”
Over the past twenty-four hours, she’s talked about her family, her father (Geoffrey Lewis), her career, the Scientology thing, getting married and writing songs. The songs are important because after years of being scripted, these are her words now.

Whenever people ask me what creative non-fiction, or creative journalism is, I point them to this essay. In 10 pages Palahniuk gets under the skin of Lewis, and whether or not you’re interested in the actress, and I wasn’t and am not, you keep on reading. There’s an immediacy to this piece achieved by the use of present tense throughout. Palahniuk talks to Lewis’s mother, follows her as she grinds coffee beans, and is there when the VCR breaks down. Throughout Palahniuk sprinkles the narrative with Lewis’s handwritten notes: “What’s the first image you have of the female body?” and “Do you look more like your father or your mother?” and “Did you ever fall in love with an animal in a way where you wished you could talk like human friends?”

Lewis is right: these questions reveal as much about her own preoccupations, concerns and interests as they would about anyone else. Palahniuk is playing interviewer, but so is Lewis. And you get a picture of this woman who is living in a rented house in Hollywood Hills, stark modern and yet filled with antique furniture. Juliette Lewis is alive in this piece – Palahniuk gained an unusual access to her life, an access that is rarely granted to most journalists. But he’s used it well: he hasn’t written a standard profile – he glosses over the “Scientology thing” as though it doesn’t matter, and only later driving past the Scientology Centre does he describe why she is into the religion. A regular, magazine or newspaper profile would have, I believe, leaped right into the Scientology thing, that’s the sensational part, “our readers would be interested in that aspect,” you can hear an editor saying. Imagine the coverline on a glossy mag: “Lewis says Scientology keeps her sane.” Would you want to buy it?

And yet, narrative journalism, creative non-fiction, call it what you will – it has a lot of names – is about much more than sensationalism. It’s about getting to the heart of a matter, or a person; it’s about using fiction techniques to tell a non-fiction story, it’s about making a piece of writing sing and spark, it’s about using words in a way that few writers of non-fiction dare to. In part that’s because it’s not expected of them. In South Africa, particularly, we have such a limited, unadventurous sense of journalism and reportage that creative non-fiction feels like a breath of fresh air. In the US you can subscribe to a journal called Creative Non-fiction, where all these techniques are used to astounding effect.

In an anthology called In Fact: The Best of Creative Non-fiction, I read ‘Finder’s Keepers: The Story of Joey Coyle’ by Mark Bowden. In 30 pages of writing the pace doesn’t flag once. You could be reading a gripping crime story. This excellent piece reads like fiction because Bowden uses direct speech, lively description, and rounded character observation. See for yourself.

Here’s an extract:

Day One
Coming down made Joey Coyle feel desperate and confused. When he was high the drug
filled his chest and head with gusts of power so great he could barely breathe or think fast enough. This was how Joey spent his nights. When he slept it was during the day.


You don’t get more immediate than that. You’re inside Joey’s head now, 28-year-old Joey, working on the docks in Philadelphia in 1981 and still living in his mom’s house. The story is about Joey and two friends who find $1.2 million that had fallen out of a truck. They try to get away with keeping the money, even though they were spotted taking it. The story follows Joey’s increasing unease and obsession with trying to find a safe place to stash the money. Writer Bowden is right there, we’re there, in Philadelphia with the cops cruising the streets, looking for the make of car Joey and friends were driving, watching as Joey hides the money in first one place then another. In the notes which follow this piece, Bowden writes: “Scenes, dialogue, characters, plot, foreshadowing, metaphor, interior monologue … you name it, I use every technique I’ve ever read and admired.”

There are all sorts of narrative journalism, you can just as easily describe a Jewish divorce ceremony as the process of being shunned by your community or describe a misdiagnosis of cancer. These are all personal essays also found in this anthology and all take a different approach to telling their stories. Yet each is gripping. We’re not talking static essays here, such as the type most of us remember being forced to write at school, the type many of us run away from reading. “Essays are boring” seems to be the implicit assumption, and yes, they can be and sometimes are. But that’s only because the writer hasn’t gone to enough trouble, hasn’t taken delight in the language, hasn’t played with the process of writing and has simply stated facts in old boring ways. It doesn’t have to be like that.

The writers here know it, US novelist Barbara Kingsolver knows it, South African writer Don Pinnock knows it.

In her 1995 book High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never Kingsolver weaves the personal with more wide-ranging subjects. She uses humour and colloquial language to talk about some serious stuff; you never feel you have to wade through this because it’s really worthy and you really should be reading something other than all those escapist novels. She has a child (she’s since had another), and this child peppers many of her essays. “Civil Disobedience at Breakfast” begins with a description of their lives together:

I have a child who was born with the gift of focus, inclined to excel at whatever she earnestly pursues. Soon after her second birthday she turned to the earnest pursuit of languor, and shot straight through to the ranks to world-class dawdler. I thought it would be my death.

Like any working stiff of a mother keeping the family presentable and solvent, I lived in a flat-out rush. My daughter lived on Zen time. These doctrines cannot find peace under one roof.

But this isn’t a personal essay about life with a daughter on Zen time; it’s more wide- ranging than that. This is an essay about raising children, about giving them independence (or not), about reliving your own childhood as a parent, about the effect of parents’ behaviour on their own children, about the pull between wanting to be creative and having to watch another theatrical performance where the monster is tied up with Day-Glo shoelaces and pantyhose.

Kingsolver writes about nature, the Dewey decimal system, about divorce in a personal sense as well as a more abstract one travelling, and living in another country, the Spanish islands, the Canary Islands.

How’s this for the opening of a travel piece from ‘Somebody’s Baby’:

As I walked out of the street entrance to my newly rented apartment, a guy in maroon high-tops and a skateboard haircut approached me, making kissing noises and saying, “Hi gorgeous”. Three weeks earlier I would have assess the degree of malice and made ready to run or tell him to bug off, depending. But, now, instead, I smiled, and so did my four-year-old daughter, because after dozens of similar encounters I understood he didn’t mean me but her.This was not the United States.

And then there’s Don Pinnock, associate editor at Getaway magazine, which means he gets to go lots of places and send back emails saying he’s in Paris this week, or wherever. It also means he gets to meet a lot of interesting people, to write columns on travel and the natural world, and makes even earthworms sounds interesting. Or bats. Bats? Yes bats. No fan of them myself, although that’s my own prejudice and ignorance, I kept on reading about them and other subjects I wouldn’t even have given a second thought to in essay after essay in Natural Selections and Love Letters to Africa.

In “Notes from Heaven” Pinnock finds himself in the Umfolozi wilderness:

The ripple of frogs counterpoints a night so still the ants seem to be walking on tiptoes. High overhead, tamboti and knobthorn trees are catching stars and a comet or two in their interlaced branches. … It feels good to be down on the naked skin of Africa in the small hours. I’m on night watch, probing the perimeter with a torch somehow less bright than my imagination, peering for predators and unwelcome ungulates: wishing them absent; hoping they’re there…

This is not common garden-variety travel writing. This is not the type of unadventurous story that recounts a trip from day one, arrival, to day 10, departure, and a sun sinks into the horizon type of story. Pinnock not so much pushes the boundaries as creates new ways of saying things, of making seemingly dry facts palatable, interesting and fascinating. From camels to dams to mediations on global warming, you’re with him all the way, urged on by his humour and his chatty tone.

The writers I have included here have created their own styles of writing. Each has a distinct voice, one that urges you with its creativity and uniqueness. And this is the type of writing that should be gracing our newspapers and magazines. It’s writing that lives beyond that day’s or that month’s deadline, it’s writing that makes you want to read while opening a window on the world.

Some books to look up:

Non-Fiction: True Stories by Chuck Palahniuk
Natural Selections: The African Wanderings of a Bemused Naturalist. Love Letters to Africa and African Journeys by Don Pinnock
In Fact: The Best of Creative Non-fiction Edited by Lee Gutkind
High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never by Barbara Kingsolver
Small Wonder: Essays
The Best American Essay series, published annually by Houghton Mifflin Company
The White Album by Joan Didion
Holidays in Hell by PJ O’Rourke

Copyright: Arja Salafranca

(First published as Dye Hard Press Newsletter 10)

The distribution dilemma: how can small publishers sell books and reach their audience?

Probably one of the most difficult, and yet crucial, aspects of the publication process for all publishers – but particularly small publishers – is distribution. It is also worth considering what is precisely meant by distribution – does it mean simply ensuring the publication is adequately represented in bookstores, or does it mean ensuring the publication reaches its intended audience?

When distributing to bookstores, some small publishers may choose to deal directly with the bookstores rather than using a distribution agent. This approach may well be common in the case of a new publisher. However, certain bookstores – particularly the larger retail chains – may be reluctant to deal directly with small publishers. Purchasing managers are often extremely busy and, perhaps with reason, may be sceptical about dealing with a small publisher who may not – and probably does not – have a formal business infrastructure in place. To put it plainly, they may not wish to deal with what they perceive as being an amateur.

This leads to the issue of administration. Due to the proliferation of fraud, large chain bookstores have become extremely fastidious about controlling their creditors’ departments. Some are no longer willing to process payment purely on receipt of an invoice – in some cases, delivery notes and monthly statements may be required before they are prepared to do so. For a small publisher, this effectively means running the publishing operation as if it were a fulltime business, even though it may be little more than a ‘hobby’.

If a small publisher does have the time, resources and energy to sell directly to bookstores countywide, well and good, but if they haven’t – and it is unlikely they would – the best option is to get a distribution agent. While there are quite a few distribution agents in South Africa, they are not always cheap, and commission fees can range from 12% - 30% of the net selling price of the book (see below), depending on what the agent is prepared to do. For example, the agent may undertake selling, delivery, invoicing and collections, or only some of these functions.

But the overall costs of selling to a bookstore, with or without an agent, is particularly important because it carries equal weight in affecting both the publisher’s profits as well as the willingness of a customer to pay the gross selling price of the book.

For example, you publish a book that costs R20 to produce. As a publisher, you obviously want to make a profit, so you may add on another R20, selling it to the bookstore at R40 (this is without taking authors’ royalties or VAT into consideration).

But to ensure they too make a profit, the bookstore may well want a 40% discount on that price, which would reduce your profit – at a 50 % discount – to zero, and the bookstore will only pay you R20.

You should therefore add on a 100% mark-up, invoicing at a recommended gross selling price (the price at which the book is sold to the public) of R80. The bookstore can then deduct its 50% discount from the R80, and you will be paid R40, which is your net selling price. It is on this amount that a distribution agent will take their commission.

It is most important not to simply add on 50%, because a 50% mark-up will make the price of the book R60. Thus, when the bookstore deducts its 50% discount, you will be paid R30, and not the R40 you require.

It is also interesting to note that, unlike other industries, in the book trade it is the publisher who sets the gross selling price to the public, not the bookstore.

But now comes the burning question – will a customer pay R80 for the book? If customers are willing to, excellent; but if they are not, then it is likely the book will remain on the shelves for a year or so, only to be sold off at about R30 at the next book sale – at a loss to the bookstore. As a publisher, you are then faced with the issue of whether the bookstore will be willing buy more books from you.

This is a scenario that an experienced bookseller would probably take into consideration before buying the book, so immediately, as a publisher, you could be under pressure not to set the gross selling price too high; after all, you don’t want the reputation of a publisher of books that don’t sell. Remember that bookstores are not necessarily ‘lovers of literature’, they are retailers in business to make a profit.

So if you are pressured to reduce the gross selling price – from which as much as a 50% discount may be deducted – your intended profit is also likely to be reduced.

The other distribution option lies in selling directly to the intended audience, usually by mail order. Many literary journals do this by establishing distribution mailing lists based on upfront subscription. By doing this, you can take the costs of distribution and bookstores’ discounts out of the equation, sell the book at a fair profit, and still make it cheaper for the customer than what they would pay in a bookstore.

But mailing lists take time to build and their success depends on a number of factors, such as the regularity of publication. Also it takes time for a new publisher to build credibility and people may be hesitant to subscribe to a new publication from a relatively unknown publisher.

Consumers generally like the reassurance of being able to see products prior to purchase. And the more exposure; the better. I suggest that small publishers, especially new small publishers, regard neither distribution channel – whether through bookstores or directly by mail order – as exclusive routes to reaching an audience. It may be a good idea to try to obtain half distribution through bookstores and half through mail order.

Originally published as Dye Hard Press newsletter 1

Contemporary South African poetry: at risk of being silenced

This piece originally appeared as Dye Hard Press Newsletter 11 and covered a panel discussion on contemporary South African poetry which took place at the first Cape Town Book Fair in 2006.
I think the issues raised are still relevant, if not more so.

At the 2006 Cape Town Book Fair, a panel discussion was held in which the situation of contemporary South African poetry and publishing was debated. The members of the panel were PR Anderson, Hale Tsehlana, Arja Salafranca, Allan Kolski Horwitz, Vonani Bila and Kelwyn Sole. The discussion was chaired by Helen Moffet.

PR Anderson kicked off by stating that commercial publishers in South Africa are reluctant to publish poetry, regarding the market for the genre as being ‘illusionary’. He said that as most poetry in South Africa these days is read in schools, the focus should be on how best to communicate poetry to this market. Electronic publishing via the internet was one means he suggested.

While I agree with Anderson’s basic premise – that commercial publishers regard the poetry market in South Africa as being illusionary – I question a few issues. Firstly, it is important to consider that commercial publishers would define a market as a financial equation (a profitable return over costs) as opposed to defining a market as a potentially receptive audience. I can understand the position of commercial publishers (considering that while they are in the business of publishing books, their primary objective is to provide shareholders with a return on investment) but it is regrettable Anderson did not mention the role of local independent publishers in getting poetry out to readers.

Secondly, by offering an argument about poetry being mainly read in schools, we risk running into a mindset whereby poetry is regarded as little more than a scholarly learning exercise.

Next, Allan Kolski Horwitz took us back to 1974, when a similar poetry panel discussion was held in Cape Town. Back then, the panel consisted solely of white males, and while one or two papers focused on poetry in a societal context (such as one on ‘Poetry and Africa’ by Douglas Livingstone) the majority tended to focus on topics such as ‘Satire in the poetry of Roy Campbell’ or ‘Satire in the poetry of Thomas Pringle’. In a nutshell: poetry as a topic for academic study, rather than as an activity intrinsic to the political, cultural and socioeconomic environment in which it is created.

Happily, Horwitz noted, we have moved on from there, as poetry of the 1980s-1990s can testify. However, in the past few years, there has a reactionary swing back to the notion of poetry divorced from the environment in which it is created, an academic-based poetry that tends to shy away from everyday topics such as crime, injustice, poverty and sex. Horwitz cited a title by Botsotso Publishing, Isis X, an anthology of poems and photographs by contemporary South African women. The anthology received an extremely negative review in The Sunday Times by a woman critic who regarded the anthology as an unfortunate by-product of the ‘new democracy’ that allows everyone to become a poet. The contributors were dismissed as performance poets (though none of the poets in the anthology could be classified as performance poets), adolescent and sex-obsessed. Clearly, the ‘new right-wing reactionaries’, as Horwitz calls them, regard sex as a topic unfit for poetry.

The contributions of the two women panellists were brief. Hale Tsehlana emphasised the need for women poets to publish their work, and Arja Salafranca endorsed Horwitz’s view of a reactionary tendency against a poetry that deals with everyday issues. Salafranca’s collection The fire in which we burn was attacked by a woman reviewer who objected to a personal poetry that dealt with issues such as relationships, sex and menstruation.

Kelwyn Sole also endorsed Horwitz’s views, but added a further dimension. For Sole, South African poetry is equally in danger from commoditisation. Recently we have witnessed an increase in government-sponsored poetry competitions dealing with issues such as HIV/Aids, and it seems government has recognised the value of poetry as a means of getting its message across. Furthermore, a poem criticising government policy would not be likely to win a government-sponsored competition. Poetry in SA is in danger of becoming a marketing tool of those in power.

I agree with Sole, but it is not only government that has caught onto the value of poetry – corporates have also leapt on the bandwagon. In an earlier newsletter on funding, I highlighted the danger of receiving corporate sponsorship for poetry publishing. After all, a corporate is hardly likely to wish to sponsor poetry that, for example, attacks the abuses of corporate capitalism.

Vonani Bila stated that as a black poet he is expected to sing the praises of the new regime. He has been criticised for writing poems that deal with crime, joblessness and poverty. He is expected not to criticise the government for failing to deliver on its promises. As Bila pointed out in the poetry journal New Coin, if the current government were to adopt the same totalitarian stance as the Nationalist Party, he and several other contemporary black poets would find themselves in prison.

Between the extremes of a reactionary mindset that views poetry as being divorced from the realities of everyday life and a mindset that views poetry as a marketing tool, true poetry – a poetry that is concerned with truth telling and engages with the environment in which it is created – is at risk of being silenced.

Gary Cummiskey
© 2006

Clearing up some myths about publishing

Starting up your own small publishing venture can be a rewarding process (though admittedly rarely financially rewarding). It requires dedication, is very much a labour of love and requires that you input quite a bit of your spare time.

However, there are a number of misperceptions about publishing that could easily lead to disappointment, frustration and (sometimes heavy) financial loss if you are not aware of the realities surrounding the bookselling market or opportunities available to you.

Some of these misperceptions, or myths, are as follows:

1. To start up a publishing venture, you have to create a company, complete with administration staff, layout and editorial staff, launch a website, and engage in extensive marketing. Starting up a publishing press in such a manner may result in some initial high-profile exposure, but it can just as easily quickly fizzle out into financial failure. From a financial perspective, publishing can be a risky business: the book-buying public can be fickle and income streams can be slow. Such overheads as listed above could easily sink an aspiring publishing venue. So keep the operation small and simple.

2. To publish a book, you have to print about 2 000 copies. Traditional litho printing works on a basis of higher volumes/lower costs. The less number of copies required, the more expensive it is to print. But if you chose a digital printer, who works on a print-on-demand basis, you would be able to print lower numbers of books on an as-and-when basis. Instead of printing 2 000, you can print 200 copies, and once they are sold, print another 200. This approach has substantially reduced costs and is invaluable to a small publisher. Should you want to print more than 500 copies in one shot, however, it is wise to go the litho route, since it is at above 500 copies that higher volumes/lower costs kick in.

3. An ISBN for a book guarantees sales. Some aspiring publishers and authors see the acquisition of an ISBN as the “key” to ensuring book sales, since an ISBN is seen as the “stamp” of professionalism. An ISBN certainly assists in making a publication seem more professional and more easily identifiable by book buyers, but does not guarantee bookstore orders or sales.

4. You need a barcode to get a book into bookstores. This is also incorrect. Again, a barcode makes a publication seem more professional, but it is not essential to ensure bookstore orders. However, as bookstores are becoming increasingly sticky about purchases, I wouldn’t be surprised if within the next few years or so barcodes do become a requirement.

5. Launches guarantee a book’s success. The purpose of a book launch is to promote the publication of a book, but they do not guarantee success. About a year or so, the publication of a local sportsman’s autobiography was launched countrywide with great fanfare. The book flopped. Some launches can easily become nothing more than a party (free booze and food!) for an author’s friends and family.

6. The media will give a positive review of my book. Books editors on newspapers and magazines are often allocated some of the smallest spaces in the publication and are further restricted by ever-diminishing budgets and lack of advertising revenue. As such, they cannot review everything and probably wouldn’t do so even if they had the space. Books editors are not obligated to review a book and they are not obligated to ensure it gets a good review. They are not your unpaid marketing manager.

7. The bookstores will buy my book because they support local literature. We often have illusions about bookstores. We think they support literature, whether local or international. We think they support literacy and local publishing. But bookstores are retail operations out to make a profit. They will not buy a book to support local publishing or literature – they will buy it only if they think it will sell.

8. The public will buy my book. The reading public is fickle and unpredictable, and anything can happen. One novel by a certain writer can be a bestseller and the second novel flop as readers move onto some other author or interest. Until recently, the South African reading public (including authors) have tended to have a poor opinion of local literature. They would willingly spend R250 on a book by an overseas author but hesitate to spend R80 on a book by a local writer. It’s a hangover from a colonial mindset that many in South Africa still have. Thankfully this has started to change.

(Originally published as Dye Hard Press Newsletter 13)

So now that you've published a book, how do you promote it?

The nuts and bolts of publishing a book may prove difficult first time around, or even after several titles. Even well-established commercial publishers are not excluded from the trials of a messed-up publication that takes time to correct. But once a book has been published, the next challenge is to ensure that it can be sold in order for you, as a publisher, to not only recover your costs, but also hopefully to make a profit as well.

Irrespective of your means of distribution, whether you wish to do it yourself or employ a distribution agent, you have to generate awareness that the book has been published and is available for sale. You therefore need to promote the book.

On immediate publication, a book can be promoted in several ways. If you have managed to create a mailing list, you can send out a mass mailer drawing attention to the publication. In addition to obvious details such as the title of the book and the author, you should include a small description of the book, supply the ISBN, indicate the number of pages, as well as quote any short blurbs that you may have included on the back cover. If it is a book of poetry, you might want to include a short poem from the collection, or an extract from a longer poem. Most importantly, you need to indicate where the book will be available from (and from what date, roughly) and an estimated retail price. If you have a website, you can also advertise it online.

A common and often effective way to promote a book is to organise a launch. There are several possible venues you can select as a launch, such as a bookstore, a community centre, an art gallery, a university or even a restaurant. You might be able to organise the venue free of charge, though some may charge a rental fee. It is best to organise snacks and drinks for your guests, and you may want to invite a guest speaker. For a small venue, it may not be necessary to organise a microphone, but for a bigger venue, this is preferable.

If you are going to read from the book, keep it short. If you have published a book of poems, maybe read about 4 or 5 short poems – don’t, as I have witnessed on one occasion, read the entire book!

Organise the event at a time that will be suitable for most people. Organising a launch at 5pm rush-hour is not the wisest, nor should you leave it till later in the evening. A time at about 6.30pm – 7pm is best. If you want to organise a launch for the weekend, select a Saturday. Sundays should be avoided.

You can invite guests to the launch by sending out a mass mailer electronically, by normal post, or both, depending on how much money you have budgeted. In addition to friends, family and interested parties, also make a point of sending invites to the media, particularly those publications or radio stations that have book pages or programmes.

A word of caution, though. While you obviously want to draw attention to your book in order to generate sales, you are once again investing money. Book sales at launches are usually good, but this is not guaranteed. You also may be disappointed at the number of people who attend, so avoid over-catering. Remember it is a book launch you are organising, not a party with free food and drink!

Also be sure that you have an adequate number of copies of the book to sell at the launch – in fact, ensure that you have copies to sell at all. Even commercial publishers have found themselves in panic-stricken situations where the launch date has arrived and due to delays at the printers books have not arrived. There have been occasions when the books have arrived at launch venues only about half-an-hour before the starting time.

Another common means of promoting a book is to send review copies to newspapers, magazines, literary journals, radio or even TV stations. Send a review copy with a press release to the respective books editor, containing similar information to that suggested for the mass mailer.

Remember however that, in South Africa particularly, books editors on newspapers and magazines usually have very limited space, and they are not obligated to review your book. Also don’t nag editors to review your publications. Commercial publishers may employ the services of a book publicist to undertake such tasks but for an independent publisher you would probably just irritate the editor. The same applies to radio and TV programmes.

Should your book be reviewed in print, create a clippings file, not only for your own records, but also to assist your distributor – or yourself – when approaching bookstores for orders. Evidence that a book has received publicity in the media assists a purchasing manager in deciding whether to purchase a book, and if so, in what quantities.

(Originally published as Dye Hard Press newsletter 8)

Obtaining funding for a publication

While digital printing has considerably reduced the cost of producing books, this does not mean that the costs are negligible. Depending on how much work publishers are prepared or able to undertake themselves, the costs can vary from hundreds to thousands of rands. Even if publishers are able to do typesetting, layout, design and proofreading, the printing of a book can still be a financial stumbling block.

There is also the risk – especially in an unpredictable and fickle reading market – that the book will not sell, and thus publishers will battle to recover the production costs, never mind make a profit.

It is for this reason that many independent publishers, who do not have the same ready access to capital as commercial publishers, strive to obtain funding for their publications. Not only does funding assist their being able to meet the financial requirements of producing a book, but it can also remove, or at least minimise, the risk of financial loss.

In fact, even large publishers these days are beginning to require funding, usually from the author, to publish certain books. This is not, however, to be confused with vanity publishing.

It goes without saying, however, that obtaining funding is not always an easy task. After all, no one is going to hand over a relatively huge sum of money to just anybody, and the number of funding bodies are usually limited, especially in South Africa. As a publisher, you will also be competing with other applicants and will have to strongly motivate why you should be a recipient.

In South Africa, the two main bodies that fund publications are the National Arts Council (http://www.nac.org.za/) and the Arts & Culture Trust of the President
(http://www.artsculturetrust.co.za/).

Funding bodies generally have criteria to be met, so check whether your project meets the criteria before applying. Funding bodies also usually issue grants once or twice a year, so be sure you submit your application before the deadline.

Application forms for funding can usually be mailed to you, collected from the fund’s offices, or downloaded from its website.

An application form will require information such as:

· Details of yourself, or the publishing body requiring the funding. Private individuals may be required to submit a personal CV
· Details of the project involved. It is best if the manuscript is ready for production; a book that has still to be written is not a solid possibility
· Details of previous projects completed and their success rates
· Details of previous funding obtained from the body or from other bodies
· Details of any previous applications for funding that were declined
· A detailed costing of the project. This will justify the amount of funding that you are applying for and prove that you have thought the production out carefully. It is also a reflection of your credibility and ability to complete the project. Most importantly, ensure that your costing is correct, taking additional costs, such as distribution and promotion, into account. You will not look too credible if you go back to the funder asking for more money because your calculations were incorrect
· About three quotes from printers and/or designers
· About three character references on your ability to carry out the project
· The social benefit of the project. In South Africa, this is becoming increasingly important, especially with the current emphasis on social investment and the need to develop a book reading culture


Depending on the nature of the publication involved, it may be possible to obtain sponsorship from a corporate’s social investment or marketing division. While corporates are more likely to sponsor a publication with a direct social benefit – such as a book on how to start up a small business and create jobs – one large corporate in South Africa has sponsored anthologies of short fiction.

In the case of corporate sponsorship, you will probably have to draw up your own proposal for funding and meet with the respective manager. The proposal should contain similar information to that stated above, but you will also need to show what benefit the corporate itself will derive from the project. After all, why should it spend, for example, R20 000 on your project, as opposed to placing an advert in a national newspaper?

If you go the corporate sponsorship route, it is also worthwhile to ensure your editorial independence is safeguarded – after all, the last thing you want is for your project to be effectively hijacked and turned into a purely marketing tool.

Should your application for funding or corporate sponsorship be successful, you may be disappointed to find that you have not received the full amount that you requested. This may result in your having to absorb some of the costs yourself or to seek additional funding from another body.

You will, of course, be required to sign a contract with the funding body, which will usually stipulate a deadline for the project to be completed. You will be required to acknowledge the funding assistance on the imprint page of your book (including the funding body’s logo, if required) and submit a small number of copies to its archives. Should the funding body’s conditions not be met, you will be in breach of contract and will be required to return the funds.

Sponsorship may also be obtained in the form of services such as free design, printing or the provision of paper. Again, this requires strong motivation, as the service providers will want to know what benefit they will derive from the project.

Also be aware that simply because you have received funding from a particular body once, it does not follow that you will automatically receive support from it again. And while your having been funded once does act as a reference, it does not mean that another funder will necessarily be generous towards you.

(Originally published as Dye Hard Press Newsletter 5)

Some tips on how to submit work to literary journals

At the moment there are several literary journals being published in South Africa, In print form alone, we have Botsotso, Chimurenga, Carapace, Kotaz, New Coin, New Contrast, Ons Klyntji and Timbila.

Most of these journals are produced by independent publishers and not by commercial operations with their own offices complete with administrative staff and in-house editors and designers. These journals are mainly produced from home on a part-time basis by people who have commitments to fulltime jobs, families, studies, and other bread-and-butter concerns.

Very often it is one person – the editor – who collects submitted material from a post box, goes through submissions, answers correspondence, makes the selection of material and oversees the production of the journal, if not also undertaking the layout and design. The editor also liases with printers, undertakes the promotion of the journal, and in some cases distributes to bookshops as well.

If you wish to submit material to local literary journals, it would be worthwhile to keep the above in mind. To assist the editor in being able to manage the amount of submissions, it would also be worthwhile to consider the following:

1. Before you send material to a literary journal, obtain a copy of it so you can get an idea of the sort and genre of material that it publishes. It would be a waste of time (and money) sending fiction to a journal that only publishes poetry, for instance. There is also little point in sending sexually explicit poems to a conservative or religious publication, or sending traditional-form poems to a journal that only publishes experimental works.

2.If you cannot find a copy of the journal in a bookshop, contact the publisher and ask to purchase a copy. Avoid asking for a freebee; you may be lucky and receive a free copy.

3. Find out the submission guidelines for the journal. If you are asked to send no more than eight poems, then do not send more than eight poems. If you send a 100-page manuscript it would not be treated with enthusiasm.

4. Do not submit previously published work. This is a bit of debated topic as some writers (and editors) feel that internet and print publishing should be treated separately, and so submitting work already published on the internet to a print journal is acceptable. Other editors are completely against this practice, feeling that it downplays the role of internet publishing. If you want to submit work that has already been published on a website, it would be best to first check the submission policy of the print journal. If you can’t get clarity on this, when you submit work to the print journal indicate what submissions have been previously published on the internet.

5. Do not make duplicated submissions by sending the same material to more than one journal.

6. Find out the preferred means of submitting material to the journal. Most journals will gladly accept electronically submitted material because manuscripts do not have to be retyped from a hard copy. However, if you are going to submit electronically, also make sure whether it is acceptable to send by email attachment or whether the editor would prefer the text to be cut and pasted into the body of the email. Most of us, whether editors or not, are naturally wary of opening attachments from unknown sources.

7. Also make sure that you send the material in a commonly used text-based program such as MS Word. Do not send them to the editor on programs such as PowerPoint. Make sure that you use a standard font that is easily readable.

8. Avoid ‘illustrating’ your submission with computer graphics unless it is essential to the text.

9. Whether you submit work electronically or by normal post, make sure that you include a short covering letter that includes your name and contact details. A postal address and (preferably) an email address should suffice. I doubt whether any editor is likely to call you on your cellphone to discuss your work, so there is little point in including a cellphone number.
If you send material by normal post, you should include an SASE. Many independent publishers cannot afford to incur the cost of returning manuscripts and if you do not send a SASE it is unlikely that your manuscript will be returned. Even if works is submitted electronically, some journals will only reply to writers whose work has been accepted.

10. If you do not hear from a journal to which you have submitted material, do not contact the editor to establish if your work has been accepted and, if so, when it will be published. As I said, independent publishers have many other responsibilities and it may take a while before you hear from them. I know this can be frustrating (I have gone through it myself) but it is fair to say that if you have not heard from a journal after six months, it is unlikely that your work has been accepted.

11. If you receive a reply stating that your work has been rejected, do not enter into correspondence with the editor unless invited to. Most importantly, do not complain about it. Accept the editor’s decision. Do not take the rejection personally; it is only the editor’s opinion. If you are provided with feedback on why it was rejected, and receive suggestions on how to improve your work, consider the feedback. You do not have to agree with it, but at least consider it.

12. If your work is accepted by a journal for one issue, do not assume that all further submissions by yourself will be immediately accepted.

As a writer myself, I am aware of the frustrations that writers experience when submitting work to journals, but by adhering to the above guidelines, writers can help the production of a journal to run more quickly and more smoothly. When an independent publisher is faced with producing a journal that involves extremely time-consuming administration, there is a possibility that they may choose to discontinue publishing the journal, resulting in fewer publishing opportunities for writers.

(Originally published as Dye Hard Press Newsletter 9)

The vanity publishing route - is it worth it?

These days, many authors, new and established, experience frustration at trying to get manuscripts published by commercial publishers – sometimes they are lucky if the publisher even gets to the basic stage of reading their work. It is perhaps due to this situation that some authors – aided by digital publishing, which has made book production a good deal cheaper – have published their books themselves.

There is, however, a third option – vanity publishing. A vanity press offers to publish a book provided the production costs are financed by the author. These production costs will, however, include a built-in profit for the press, thus guaranteeing an income irrespective of book sales. After all, unlike genuine publishers, vanity presses do not undertake the promotion, marketing or distribution of books that they produce – this is left to the author.

The press also usually promises professional editorial assistance and advice, and the book – the number of copies of which is determined by the amount that the author is able to pay – is delivered to the author within the relatively short period of a couple of months or so.

In certain circumstances, such a scenario is not necessarily bad in itself. For example: your favourite hobby is writing poems about your pet cat. The end of the year is approaching and you feel that an excellent idea for a Christmas present would be to collect your poems, publish about 20 copies of them through a vanity press, and circulate them privately as presents to family and friends. In this instance, no harm is done.

However, the usual situation involving vanity presses can prove quite damaging. A new author produces a novel that may not be of any literary merit. But with a vanity press, the sole qualification for publication is the ability to pay – whether the book is good or bad. Authors of bad literary works may, therefore, be misled into believing they have a saleable masterpiece on their hands due simply to the fact that someone is willing to publish it – even if at a cost.

While some vanity presses are upfront about the requirement for payment and will provide quotes prior to the signing of the contract, there are some that will hide the payment factor among a series of clauses and conditions, or while not actually stipulating that the production will have to be paid for, will state that a ‘consultation fee’ will be charged – the amount of which authors will only discover after they have legally bound themselves to the contract.

Despite promises, editorial consultation is generally poor or nonexistent. I have known of cases where even author’s corrections have been ignored. The print and paper quality may be poor, the cover design and colour reproduction inferior, and the binding weak. I recently saw a vanity published book with print on some pages so faint that it was difficult to read, the edges of the book had been trimmed skew, and the spine was falling apart – a matter of months after delivery to the author.

But even if the production is of acceptable quality, authors may encounter difficulty when they try to market and distribute the book. Vanity presses generally lack credibility among distribution agents, book editors, and bookstores; the reason being that it is known that the book would have been published solely on the basis of ability to pay and not on merit. Authors may, therefore, be sitting with 500 copies of a book that no one is willing to promote or buy, while the vanity press has already made its profit.

For some time it has been the payment factor – even if stated upfront – that has been the controversial aspect in vanity publishing. But due to the fact that more and more publications these days, especially in South Africa, are funded, wholly or in part, I do not regard the request for payment to be an issue in itself.

If the production of a book is funded and published by a genuine publisher, that book will probably have literary merit, plus the publisher will be both able and willing to provide the author with the services that a publisher should be able to – which is not the case with vanity presses. Furthermore, a genuine publisher has an interest in producing a quality product to ensure sales revenue, while a vanity press – which has already secured its profit upfront – has no such incentive.

Should you approach, or be approached by, a publisher whom you have never heard of, or know little about, it is worthwhile to:

· Establish whether the publisher has a website and check it out. Study the wording carefully to ascertain whether it may be a vanity publisher
· Find out what titles the publisher has produced and try to locate copies. If you are successful, study the quality of production and try to get a grasp of the literary merit of the titles
· Find out if the major bookstores store these titles; if not, phone the respective purchasing managers to find out if they have heard of the publisher, and if so, what they know of the business
· If you receive a contract from the publisher, study it carefully to ascertain whether there are any references to the possibility that you may be required to pay towards the production of the book. If so, query them with the publisher. As an independent publisher myself, I can appreciate a publisher’s reluctance to foot the bill for unwarranted costs such as excessive author’s corrections at final proof stage, so such clauses may not necessarily be an indication that you are dealing with a vanity press
· Check in the contract if the publisher does not undertake, or guarantee to undertake, promotion or distribution. Remember that a genuine publisher makes its income through the sale of books, so if a so-called publisher does not undertake promotion and distribution, this begs the obvious question of how the business is earning its money. If there is no reference in the contract to promotion or distribution, query it with the publisher and get a written commitment to these tasks

Should you choose to go the vanity press route, then fine. As I have said, some vanity press productions are of an acceptable quality, though promotion and distribution may still present a problem. It depends on what your expectations and requirements are. But in the age of digital publishing, I consider vanity presses to be unnecessary. Author can, given a bit of learning and time, publish their own work – the production of which they can oversee themselves – at substantially reduced costs.

(This piece was originally published as Dye Hard Press Newsletter 3)

Dye Hard Press - an argument for independent publishing

Dye Hard Press was launched in 1994 almost by accident and on a shoestring budget. For some time I had been frustrated by the lack of poetry publishing outlets in South Africa, whether in journal or book form. South Africa has always suffered from a lack of outlets for poetry, a situation Lionel Abrahams once described as being more destructive than censorship.

In the early 1990s journal outlets for poetry consisted of New Coin, New Contrast, Sesame and Staffrider. A major obstacle to publishers then – as now – was the high cost of production and lack of capital. Funding could be obtained from the National Arts Council but even then funds were limited and allocation committees understandably cautious about funding individuals or ventures lacking a credible track record.

One publisher who worked his way around this scenario was Gus Ferguson who, apart from publishing numerous poetry collections under his imprint Snailpress, produced 30 issues of a monthly poetry journal Slug News, which was produced relatively cheaply – photocopied rather than printed – and distributed free of charge.

Slug News made me realise that a poetry journal did not have to be a glossy production and could be produced cheaply. This example was followed shortly by Roy Blumenthal, whose Barefoot Press printed poetry pamphlets by the thousands and then distributed them via bookshops throughout the country.

This encouraged me to start my own independently published poetry journal called The Magazine With No Name. In retrospect, the venture was doomed from the start but back then I couldn’t see it. Being able to produce something cheaply was not enough, and one of my main problems was that I did not have the credibility of “a name”. If The Magazine With No Name had been published by an Abrahams or Serote, it would have probably been an instant success – but not when it was being published by an unknown named Gary Cummiskey.

My solution was to get a small collection of my own poetry in circulation so people would see I was in earnest. I brought together 20 poems, typed them up on my computer at work, produced a simple cover, photocopied about 100 A4-sized copies, stapled them down the side, and there I had my first collection of poems, The Secret Hour, ready to hit the streets.

I had thought of stating that the collection was privately published, but then considered thinking up a crazy publishing-press name for a once-off production. Partly as a joke and partly as a reflection of my determination not to lay down and die after my plans for The Magazine With No Name collapsed, I decided to ascribe publication to Dye Hard Press.

Shortly afterwards I met Alan Finlay, who was starting up his own poetry journal, Bleksem. He suggested I continue publishing poetry collections by this method, as it was a quick and easy way to get poetry in circulation. If the high-gloss publishing route wasn’t working, all we had to do was ignore it and take over the means of production ourselves.

More titles from Dye Hard Press followed – Structured Space by JDU Geldenhuys, Burning Aloes by Alan Finlay, Icarus Rising by Gus Ferguson, Inside My Pocket by Robert Homem, more samples of my own work, plus others. I also started up a poetry journal called Atio, which ran to four issues.

There was, around this time, an explosion of new poetry publishing ventures, big and small. This period saw the emergence of Botsotso, Carapace, Guter 3, ImPrint, Something Quarterly and Sun Belly Press, to name a few. There was talk of a poetry renaissance and these ventures were generally received with enthusiasm. There were readings at public venues and on radio and TV. As Karen Press perceptively pointed out in New Coin, this sudden burst of activity was undoubtedly linked to the wave of optimism experienced in South Africa in the aftermath of the first democratic elections in 1994.

By 1996, however, a good deal of the initial energy behind the renaissance began to wane. For myself, I became swamped with manuscripts of poetry, stories, novels and plays, mostly of poor quality. I would conscientiously provide feedback to writers on their submissions, but eventually felt unable to keep my head above water. The effort of managing the process from collecting about 20 submissions per week from the mailbox to distributing pamphlets to the bookshops became too much for me. At the end of 1996, after publishing Roy Blumenthal’s Brutal Syrup, I decided to call it a day. Soon afterwards ImPrint stopped appearing, as did Something Quarterly, Sun Belly Press and Guter 3. There were, of course, diverse reasons for these closures, and they were not necessarily linked to my experience.

Old habits die hard, however, and after two years’ break I produced a small poetry anthology called Mad Rains. Unlike previous publications by Dye Hard Press, Mad Rains was A5-size, which made bookshelf storability a good deal easier. Toward the end of 1998, Roy Blumenthal and I collaborated on Head, which was designed by Roy and printed on better-quality paper with a cardboard cover. Roy had also designed a Dye Hard Press colophon for the collection and I have retained the colophon to this day.

Four more titles have followed since then - another anthology called Electric Juice, Arja Salafranca’s The Fire In Which We Burn, Reigning Gloves, Bog Docks and April in the Moon-Sun by myself, The Red Laughter of Guns in Green Summer Rain by Philip Zhuwao & Alan Finlay, and most recently Kobus Moolman's Full Circle.

I also published five issues of the annual literary journal of poetry and prose Green Dragon from 2002 to 2007.

Dye Hard Press is now recognised as a bona fide independent press and has a distribution agent. While originally Dye Hard Press was self-funded, publications are now sometimes dependent on funding.

The lesson behind Dye Hard Press is that print publishing need not be an expensive affair. No one will become a millionaire (or even earn a living) through publishing poetry, so there is little point in bankrupting oneself in the process.

(The above is an updated version of a piece than originally appeared on donga online. It was also published as Dye Hard Press newsletter 12.)

Dye Hard Press newsletter 15: Is size important? Small versus independent publishing

At the Cape Town Book Fair in June, a Small Publishers’ stand was organised by the Centre for the Book. Compared with last year’s stand, it was huge – about 35 publishers were represented and were widely diversified in subject matter (such as poetry, children’s books, memoirs and even cookery books) as well as quality of content and production. Such an array is demonstrative of the amount of independent publishing taking place in South Africa, as well as the dedication of the publishers involved and, as such, is commendable.

However, such activity begs the question: what is meant by a “small publisher”? Does this mean a noncommercial publisher, an amateur publisher, a publisher that does not employ people, a publisher that works from home, a publisher that has limited access to capital, a publisher that has limited distribution, a publisher with a limited marketing budget, a publisher that does not undertake huge print runs, a publisher that does not publish huge numbers of titles, a publisher that is marginal or – still worse – a publisher that is of lesser importance?

Noncommercial: A commercial publisher is one that undertakes the publishing of books for the purpose of making a profit in order to provide a return to shareholders. A prime issue here is the marketability of a book and its likelihood to appeal to a wide audience in order to generate revenue. In this respect, small or independent publishers may be regarded as noncommercial. This does not mean they do not intend to make a profit or try to reach as wide an audience as possible, but there is often an acknowledgement that the nature of the books published may not be likely to have a popular appeal. Many works produced by small or independent publishers have a distinctly small, limited audience, notably poetry.

Amateur: A small or independent publishing operation may be regarded as amateur because it is not usually a fulltime business, as is the case with commercial publishers. Sometimes access to technical equipment may be an issue, and even knowledge about the publishing process may be limited compared to commercial publishers. But having said that, the work of small publishers is sometimes, from both a quality of presentation and content point of view, either equal to, or even better, than books produced by commercial publishers.

Does not employ people: Small or independent publishers are often one-man or one-woman operations, with the layout, design and proofreading undertaken by one person, and printing being outsourced. However, some independent publishers, particularly those who have received funding, are able to outsource the entire production process. This situation often differs little from many medium-sized commercial publishers, some of whom may have a minimum staff compliment of about five people. Even among commercial publishers, tasks such as the evaluation of manuscripts, layout, design, and proofing are outsourced to freelancers. In this regard, there is not a tremendous difference between independent and commercial publishers.

Works from home: As already mentioned, many small or independent operations are the work of one person, are not a fulltime job, and are often undertaken in the evenings or weekends at home. Hence the terms “home publishing” or even “kitchen table publishing”. But many commercial publishers have operated from homes at some point, usually during the start-up period – and thus may well have been regarded as “amateurs” during this phase. And renting or owning offices do not necessarily guarantee that the works produced are of a quality standard.

Access to capital: Medium-sized or commercial publishers have a greater access to capital than do smaller publishers, whose books are either self-funded by the publisher/editor/owner. Sometimes the publisher will be able to obtain public funding, such as from the National Arts Council or the Arts and Culture Trust. However, having said that, these days, and particularly in South Africa, is it become a fairly common practice for even larger publishers to produce books on condition that some form of funding has been provided. This should not in any way be confused with vanity publishing.

Distribution: Book distributors in South Africa, as elsewhere, are often reluctant to work on behalf of independent publishers, and this can be a definite stumbling block, especially for new publishers, even start-up commercial publishers. Commission costs for distribution can be high, and this can easily bite into a small publisher’s profit margins. One can try to undertake one’s own distribution, but large bookstore chains are often unwilling to deal directly with a publisher, and to be deal only with a bond fide distributor. Distribution is thus often a problem for independent publishers.

Marketing: Small or independent publishers generally have a limited, or even nonexistent, marketing budget to undertake nationwide launches. They also often lack the “credentials” that a commercial publisher may have to be able to organise interviews on radio or television. But having said that, having a substantial marketing budget or department at one’s fingertips does not guarantee the success of a book. Many books have in fact sold very well solely by word of mouth.

Print runs: Commercial publishers tend to publish vast print runs of books undertaken by litho printers. Such a print run works on the basis of larger volumes, lower cost. Independent publishers often go the cheaper digital printing route whereby small print runs – up to 500 copies - can be made, and then additional copies printed if required. In terms of quality, there is very little difference between a book produced by a litho printer and that of a good digital printer. Again, many independent publishers who have been able to obtain funding have produced large print runs by litho printing route.

Number of titles: Independent publishers generally publish far fewer titles per year than commercial publishers – after all, it is not their livelihood and they do not have the time, or the access to capital. But again, there are exceptions. Gus Ferguson, for example, in a period of about 12 years published well over 100 titles through his Snailpress and Firfield Press imprints, in addition to about 30 issues of his Slug Newsletter and his poetry journal Carapace as now reached issue 64. Other independent publishers, such as Deep South, intentionally limit their output.

Marginal/lesser importance: Throughout history, many small or independent publishers have produced groundbreaking works. The Hogarth Press’s publication of TS Eliot’s The Waste Land is an example, as well as presses such as City Lights in the US, which published Allen Ginsberg’s Howl. Much groundbreaking work in SA has been published by independent presses, and a few years ago Botsotso published Post-traumatic, one of the most important short fiction anthologies published in SA in recent years – an anthology which several commercial publishers passed over. Groundbreaking work usually initially has a limited appeal – and thus is not the terrain for commercial publishers.

From the above, it is clear that the perceived differences between “small publishers” and “commercial publishers” are in fact not so wide, and by referring to independent publishers as “small” we risk diminishing their importance and contribution to enriching our literary culture. For this reason, I feel the term “small publisher” should be replaced by “independent publisher”, though I am aware that some “small publishers” may feel uncomfortable with the term “independent”.

But what the hell - long live independent publishing!


© Gary Cummiskey, 2007

Dye Hard Press newsletter 14: In Print or Online? Some Thoughts on Internet Publishing

In contrast to many overseas countries, the concept of online publishing, as opposed to print, has not been readily embraced in South Africa.

There are obvious reasons for this. Surfing the internet in South Africa can be costly plus it is estimated that only about 7% of the country’s population has internet access. Furthermore, as far as literary publishing is concerned, there still seems to be a general preference for printed books.

But even so, as far as local literary journals are concerned, online publishing has not been as neglected as one may think. In 1994, the third issue of Alan Finlay’s Bleksem went online as a showcase publication for one of the first internet start-ups in the country. Shortly after, Roy Blumenthal launched his Barefoot Press poetry website, which he followed up with an online version of Lionel Abraham’s Sesame. By about 2000, LitNet had been launched and Alan Finlay started donga, which ran to 12 issues. Today, apart from LitNet, there is sweet magazine (admittedly inactive), plus Botsotso and Chimurenga have websites that complement the print versions of the journals. And while not strictly a literary journal, Southern Rain Poetry showcases contemporary South African poetry.

Granted, three active online literary journals may not be impressive, but when you consider there are only about eight regular print literary journals in South Africa, these websites represent almost a quarter of the total local outlets.

Also, literary or cultural blogs have started up, such as those of Carapace, Goodenough Mashego, Roy Blumenthal, Richard Fox and Aryan Kaganof, plus, of course, the small publishers’ and writers’ network blogs of Centre for the Book.

So what are the advantages of online publishing as opposed to print?

· From a publisher’s standpoint, a main advantage of online publishing is that it eradicates the costs involved in printing, especially litho printing. Granted there are costs involved in a website (such as for domain registration and hosting) but in the long run, and especially if the site is updated on a regular basis, these could work out to be cheaper than going the printing route.
· Online publishing can also be a lot less time-consuming than print publishing; again this depends on how often the site is updated and how much work you wish to do on it.
· Proofreading and correcting errors on a website can be done as you go along: if you spot a mistake or wish to improve a phrase, you can simply go into the site and fix them up. Printing 800 copies of a book, however, is a different story. Once it’s printed, it’s too late to correct an error. Proofreading a book prior to print can be extremely time-consuming.
· A publisher also manages to cut out distribution costs. To obtain national (and overseas) distribution for printed books, a distributor would have to be employed and paid commission on sales. There are also administrative costs involved, such as invoicing and payment collections. There is also a matter of finding a suitable and affordable distributor.
· Bookstores can be fussy about what takes up their shelf space and when it comes to items such as literary journals, for example, larger bookstore chains tend to be reluctant to stock them. Online publishing cuts out the need for the bookstore middleman.
· Another advantage of online publishing is that it provides a far easier, quicker and cheaper exposure to international readers.
· You also tend to reach more readers than with print publications. Alan Finlay’s donga, for example, had 500 - 1 000 unique visitors a month.
· Depending on the type of software you use for your website, it is possible to draw statistics showing the geographical areas, including cities, where most of your visitors come from.
· Internet publishing also assists in bringing work to readers who ordinarily might not have easy access to large bookshops – such as people living in rural areas – or to those who may not be able to afford to buy printed books, such as learners, who would be able to access the internet for free at schools or universities.

Some disadvantages of online publishing are as follows:

· As said above, it is estimated that only 7% of South Africans have internet access, and even those probably do most of their surfing at work - when they should be working - and there is a limit to the amount of time you can spend online while the boss isn’t looking. Also, many companies monitor internet access. Therefore, if you were publishing, for example, an online literary journal aimed specifically at a wide local audience, this raises the question of many South Africans would have the means, time or money to read it.
· One of the main barriers to internet access in SA is cost, unlike in some other countries where you may have unlimited 24-hour access for a fixed monthly fee. It is this local cost factor that discourages home users from spending lengthy periods of time online in their leisure hours.
· If a website is taken offline, the material obviously disappears as well, so unless the user has printer or saved material from that site, they will obviously not be able to access it again. Once you have bought a printed book, however, it is yours to be read at any time you wish. However, some website owners do save the website to CD and then send it to archives or libraries. Locally, NELM is now seeking to archive material published online.

Another huge problem, particularly in South Africa, is a mindset against online publishing. For many people, being published on a website is regard as “not real publishing”. Most would prefer a printed book in their hands. I admit I am one of them, and I am happy that the geeks who, back in the mid-1990s, prophesised that print publishing was coming to an end, have been proved wrong.

But internationally, publications such as literary journals and genres such as poetry are battling to get support from bookstores, and there is a diminishing reading public interested in such material. Faced with these challenges, but presented with the opportunities of the internet, many overseas literary journals have shifted online.

In SA, of course, due mainly to cost issues, shifting online is not so simple a solution. However, this situation cannot continue forever.


© Gary Cummiskey, 2007