I suspect that most people who read blogs are also members of one or more social media sites, so you'll all relate to this.
I have a Facebook account I check daily. I have a Twitter account that I use to leave short teasers on whatever I'm posting here. I also belong to LinkedIn, but since it's geared to business networking and I left the real world last year, I rarely check that one these days. Teri reminded me yesterday that my LinkedIn profile was in desperate need of attention and updating since it still showed me working for my former employer.
Some of my friends, especially my younger relatives, are Facebook addicts. Teri saw some research the other day that showed students at one major university (not hers) spend 1.7 hours on average on Facebook per day. Hard to believe.
A couple of weeks ago I joined a fourth social networking site and I'm hopelessly addicted. I won't even name it here for fear that other unpublished authors will stumble on to t
his post and become addicted themselves. Okay, it's Authonomy--just don't tell anyone.
Here's how it works:
A major publisher owns this literary crackhouse and encourages unpublished authors to upload all or part of their books onto their site. Right now there are something like 5,000 full or partial manuscripts available for your reading pleasure.
The authors on the site then read and give critiques of the posted works of the other authors. I think most writers are motivated much more by the desperate desire for an audience than by financial reward, so the idea of having other people seeking out and commenting on the thing they treasure most in life is incredibly attractive.
But there's more!
It's also a game. Each book on the site is given a ranking based on the number of people who "back" it by putting it on their virtual bookshelves. If you reach the top five in any given month your manuscript gets a formal reading by the editorial board of the publisher sponsoring the site. Each reviewer holds a "talent spotter" ranking based on how the books on their shelves perform. If a person with a high TS rank backs your book, it moves up more notches than it would if a person with a low ranking does.
Cool.
For someone anxious to see their work disseminated and read, this is incredibly enticing.
But there's even more!
It's hypnotizing watching your book fly up the virtual charts and your influence as a reviewer grow. Heaven help me, I'm actually keeping a chart of my performance. You start at the very bottom of both lists, somewhere in the five thousands. But Carnival Time has been on a rocket ride since I posted it a couple of weeks ago. This morning I checked and the book is at 1,057 on the charts, up nearly 400 slots since Sunday evening. My reviewer ranking is only 2,748, but I got a slow start and that rating is currently rising even faster than the book is.
I suspect most authors weren't the most popular kids in school--we bookish folk seldom are--and to see an actual number attached to your popularity and to see your acclaim grow is the ultimate in positive reinforcement for our kind.
But wait, there's still more! There are the reviews.
As of this morning, I've had thirty reviews for my book. Want to hear bits of some of them?
"Highly entertaining."
"...enjoyable with much humor and a delicacy of touch that is very engaging."
"Great story ... much better than I expected."
"BRILLIANT ...it is evident we are in the hands of an accomplished professional."
"As I read it I had to stop a few times to think about what a hugely interesting and different plot this is. They say there are no new ideas, and you seem to be kicking the crap out of that saying."
"Brilliant. You have seen to the heart of the lunacy North Americans inhabit and served it up to us as dark satire."
I could go on (and I am tempted to do so), but the reviews are all pretty much like that, and you get the idea. It's a screen chock-full of warm fuzzies and pats on the back.
Okay, but here's where Authonomy meets reality. Everyone says nice things about all of the books on the site. If you've put in the work on something as personal and creative as a book, you know how others who have done the same feel, and it's impossible to be brutally honest. My reviewers have debated a few structural issues and pointed out a handful of typos, but none of them would dream of saying "this is a huge load of stinking garbage. For the sake of humanity, step away from the keyboard and don't ever come back."
It's a popularity contest. Remember? If you get a reputation for saying nice things, people will want to review and back you and increase your own book's rating. So literary merit and unvarnished truth seldom find their way into the mutually congratulatory reviews.
Most of the books posted on Authonomy will never see the light of day. Frankly, most of them aren't very good. There are a few polished and unpolished gems in that pile of rubble, but you can't spot them from the ratings alone. So I will never know how good or bad my book really is from this jury of my peers. And my peers, like me, all carry a faint whiff of desperation.
To date, the publisher running the site has signed three books of the thousands posted, and a handful of others have allegedly attracted the attention of literary agents rumored to be roaming Authonomy, so the odds of meeting your goal (if your goal is publication) are long indeed. I knew it was going to be a crapshoot when I started the BYE, but I try not to think about that.
More on facing long odds tomorrow.
I have a Facebook account I check daily. I have a Twitter account that I use to leave short teasers on whatever I'm posting here. I also belong to LinkedIn, but since it's geared to business networking and I left the real world last year, I rarely check that one these days. Teri reminded me yesterday that my LinkedIn profile was in desperate need of attention and updating since it still showed me working for my former employer.
Some of my friends, especially my younger relatives, are Facebook addicts. Teri saw some research the other day that showed students at one major university (not hers) spend 1.7 hours on average on Facebook per day. Hard to believe.
A couple of weeks ago I joined a fourth social networking site and I'm hopelessly addicted. I won't even name it here for fear that other unpublished authors will stumble on to t
his post and become addicted themselves. Okay, it's Authonomy--just don't tell anyone.Here's how it works:
A major publisher owns this literary crackhouse and encourages unpublished authors to upload all or part of their books onto their site. Right now there are something like 5,000 full or partial manuscripts available for your reading pleasure.
The authors on the site then read and give critiques of the posted works of the other authors. I think most writers are motivated much more by the desperate desire for an audience than by financial reward, so the idea of having other people seeking out and commenting on the thing they treasure most in life is incredibly attractive.
But there's more!
It's also a game. Each book on the site is given a ranking based on the number of people who "back" it by putting it on their virtual bookshelves. If you reach the top five in any given month your manuscript gets a formal reading by the editorial board of the publisher sponsoring the site. Each reviewer holds a "talent spotter" ranking based on how the books on their shelves perform. If a person with a high TS rank backs your book, it moves up more notches than it would if a person with a low ranking does.
Cool.
For someone anxious to see their work disseminated and read, this is incredibly enticing.
But there's even more!
It's hypnotizing watching your book fly up the virtual charts and your influence as a reviewer grow. Heaven help me, I'm actually keeping a chart of my performance. You start at the very bottom of both lists, somewhere in the five thousands. But Carnival Time has been on a rocket ride since I posted it a couple of weeks ago. This morning I checked and the book is at 1,057 on the charts, up nearly 400 slots since Sunday evening. My reviewer ranking is only 2,748, but I got a slow start and that rating is currently rising even faster than the book is.
I suspect most authors weren't the most popular kids in school--we bookish folk seldom are--and to see an actual number attached to your popularity and to see your acclaim grow is the ultimate in positive reinforcement for our kind.
But wait, there's still more! There are the reviews.
As of this morning, I've had thirty reviews for my book. Want to hear bits of some of them?
"Highly entertaining."
"...enjoyable with much humor and a delicacy of touch that is very engaging."
"Great story ... much better than I expected."
"BRILLIANT ...it is evident we are in the hands of an accomplished professional."
"As I read it I had to stop a few times to think about what a hugely interesting and different plot this is. They say there are no new ideas, and you seem to be kicking the crap out of that saying."
"Brilliant. You have seen to the heart of the lunacy North Americans inhabit and served it up to us as dark satire."
I could go on (and I am tempted to do so), but the reviews are all pretty much like that, and you get the idea. It's a screen chock-full of warm fuzzies and pats on the back.
Okay, but here's where Authonomy meets reality. Everyone says nice things about all of the books on the site. If you've put in the work on something as personal and creative as a book, you know how others who have done the same feel, and it's impossible to be brutally honest. My reviewers have debated a few structural issues and pointed out a handful of typos, but none of them would dream of saying "this is a huge load of stinking garbage. For the sake of humanity, step away from the keyboard and don't ever come back."
It's a popularity contest. Remember? If you get a reputation for saying nice things, people will want to review and back you and increase your own book's rating. So literary merit and unvarnished truth seldom find their way into the mutually congratulatory reviews.
Most of the books posted on Authonomy will never see the light of day. Frankly, most of them aren't very good. There are a few polished and unpolished gems in that pile of rubble, but you can't spot them from the ratings alone. So I will never know how good or bad my book really is from this jury of my peers. And my peers, like me, all carry a faint whiff of desperation.
To date, the publisher running the site has signed three books of the thousands posted, and a handful of others have allegedly attracted the attention of literary agents rumored to be roaming Authonomy, so the odds of meeting your goal (if your goal is publication) are long indeed. I knew it was going to be a crapshoot when I started the BYE, but I try not to think about that.
More on facing long odds tomorrow.
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