Tuesday 17 December 2013

On Gatekeeper Validation

In the first year of my writing career I have learnt tonnes about the writing world. I have met some fantastic people on both sides of the publishing divide. I self published 'Splinter' in July on my 42nd birthday. To date sales have been steady with positive feedback and good reviews. My plan is now to finish writing my second novel ‘Personal Space’ and publish it in the New Year. Sales of Book 2 will increase interest for Book 1 and Book 3 will be huge and if it isn't then I am still learning my craft in the process.

"Head down, write, edit, design, publish, rinse and repeat." is my mantra. Well at least that is the idea with reference with those writer good enough to share their knowledge and experience.  

The writing part has been fantastic. I love immersing myself in the writing process and I buzz with energy as I lose myself in developing the story and the characters. I have even had conversations with readers about my characters and their motivation. How fantastic is that?

There have been some negative aspects in dealing with the literary world and the worst is that after 20 years of experience in building businesses I am in a strange new world and I don't know the rules of "Gatekeeper Validation".


The Rules puzzle me. In a recurring dream I imagine there is an exclusive members-only club for writers and I want to join.  

Standing outside I can see through the windows and watch as the in-crowd quaffs cocktails and champagne. They laugh at jokes while being served canapés by deferential servants. The men wear silk cravats, tweed jackets with leather elbow patches and the women wear pearl necklaces and pashmina shawls.

To gain entry you follow a red carpet that leads up the marble stairs to the big wooden door. At the top, hung between chrome posts, there is a plush velvet rope blocking the way. The Door Supervisor in a crombie overcoat and bow tie stands behind the rope. He shows me the palm of his hand in flat refusal.

"If you don't know the rules you can't come in.Son!"  

The brass plate on the door says “The Traditional Publishing Club”

In my dream I continue to walk along until I come upon the next venue, a brightly coloured 'festival marquee' with a handmade sign saying "The Self Publishing Pavillion". 

Not as posh or permanent as the clean brickwork of the traditional club and at times a cold wind blows through the sides of the tent.

More of a scrumpy cider and organic burger type of place than champagne and canapés. 

There were no bouncers keeping me out so I put on extra thermals and went in. As I went into the crowded Self Publishing marquee I walked past the different groups of dancing writers all dressed up in the different costumes of their genre. PC Plod (Crime), Halloween (Horror), Grease (YA), Tarts and Vicars (erotica) and almost everybody was friendly. 

They waved and asked me to join their groups. I thanked them saying "perhaps later" and kept walking on. At the centre of the tent a group were coming together to have a serious conversation about making the marquee stronger for the future and they were friendly too. Some said they had been inside the traditional club and told me that the champagne was warm and flat and the canapés were stale or soggy. They said they now preferred to buy their own Prosecco and pigs in blankets. But I still wanted to see for myself. 

Then I woke up. In the half light between sleep and consciousness my mind raced.

"What were the rules. Why don't I know the rules."


In my daytime/nighttime job as a nightclub bouncer I know a thing or two about the rules of “Gatekeeper Validation”. On the front door of a real life club or pub there are many reasons for turning a punter away. Too drunk, too wired, too aggressive, dodgy id, even the wrong clothes.

My job as the door supervisor/gatekeeper is to ensure that nobody I let in will disrupt the smooth and safe running of the venue’s business. My main rule of thumb in deciding to allow entry in the few seconds that I have a customer in front of me is their attitude and demeanour.

If they can’t stand up straight it leads to a refusal. 

If they approach in an agitated manner, their pupils are dilated and there is white powder dangling from the hairs of their nostrils then they are refused. 

If they bite when I ask them a simple question then they are refused. If they are going to be nasty with me on the door then they will be nasty inside. The nightclub holds a thousand people and some nights I might turn five to ten people away, often to cursing and threats.

It is a busy nightclub and there will still always be some grief inside but on the whole the night is calmer without the erratic, bad or dangerous behaviour of those I refuse.

So I am conscious of my own attitude with others in all aspects of my life. 

Away from the doors I am a nice guy. So when I first took up my pencil to offer my unfinished novel to the literary gatekeepers of the publishing world I did so with a positive and friendly attitude. I also have 20 years of sales and marketing experience and I thought that by being professional and writing a good story I would attract interest. 
Alas the entry policy was not clear and I was not too sure of dress code. Despite my research I did not know the rules. 

I was definitely not famous so did not qualify for the Celebrity ‘Access All Areas’ VIP pass. 
Did I need the special Creative Writing MA secret pass? 
Did I need to know the DJ? 
Or should I just bung the Doorman twenty quid?   


Sending out submissions is a nervous and confusing time for any newbie writer. I know there is a crowded market and to date that door has remained closed. Rejection letters arrived on my doormat.  A friendly response leaving me with hope that if I come back later there could be access in the future.

The equivalent of ‘Not tonight sir, you are wearing trainers’.

I had read about the slush pile mountains of hopeful's manuscripts so I was happy enough with that response.

When I accepted that I was on my own I resolved to complete my novel and entered the world of Self Publishing. Book 1 is published and selling and Book 2 is on the way. But I am easily distracted and knowing that I need to build my own author platform I derail my attention onto Facebook and Twitter and this monthly blog post. As an independent author I have nobody but myself to guide me so I raise my head above the parapet and look around. 

In the physical world I went to a local writing group and was hit the next day with the snide comments of the resident literary “guru” denigrating self publishing in her next blog post.

On the door it would have been a sly dig when I was looking another way.  

A couple of months later still hoping for goodwill and introducing myself as an independent author I approached a literary organisation asking for technical support. I was treated with cold derision and a sneer.

I couldn't understand why? Was I wearing beach shorts and flip flops to a black tie event?

Still being positive later I introduced myself to a publicly funded book distributor. I was even ready to accept their terms and conditions without a quibble. On hearing I was independent I was fobbed off with cursory answers to my precise but innocent questions. When confused at the response I eventually contacted by phone to speak in person I was met with a full on aggressive attitude ending with the memorably dismissive words, “We know what sells!”

It was the equivalent of a doorman’s hand in the chest pushing me backwards down the steps.  

I was tempted to reply, "I've seen the figures. Do you really want to go there?" But being  a good lad I didn't bite back.  

My last attempt to contact a literary organisation was an email to a highly paid manager again asking for technical support. This time there was zero response, not even the courtesy of a reply.

Even though I could hear the bang of the music inside and see the protectionist eye peering back out through the peep hole in the closed door.

Did I expect to be welcomed with open arms to the literary fold? No, I am more hard bitten than that.

Yet I did expect to be treated with the same courtesy as I would treat a decent customer who approaches my venue's front door standing up straight and smiling. I was neither aggressive nor agitated in my approach and I did not expect to be ignored and rebuffed. All because of my decision to embrace modern technology, to take control and not to wait for the professed validation of the literary gatekeepers.

Perhaps I turned up after a nasty row, adrenalin was up  and tolerance levels were low. To be fair it happens to me after a hassled night. 

Oh well, in time there will be another door to approach. Perhaps I don’t know the rules or the secret handshake. Perhaps when I do I will not want to go in anyway. I am more a Real Ale sort of chap, more at home in dodgy disco dives with sticky carpets and a kebab on the walk home than the exclusive members only club. By this time in my life I should know my place and learn to doff the cap.

I have now given up putting my head above the literary papapet and am concentrating on finishing book 2 and my life is much simpler.

I am still hugely enjoying my writing adventure. I have found a warm welcome in the support network of the Alliance of Independent Authors and am inspired by the professional efforts and self publishing successes of ALLi members and other indie authors that I have encountered.

Despite the lack of literary gatekeeper validation I am positive about my future as a writer and I do know that proper writers don't all wear tweeds, pearls and quaff champagne.  

Merry Christmas one and all. Even to the scrooges of the literary world.

Now there was a writer's writer who made up his own rules. . 

Nadolig Llawen from North Wales 

JRS    

www.jrsheridan.com

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