I call it samizdat, not self-publishing
by Ally Hauptmann-Gurski
(Adelaide, South Australia, Australia)
You can see it's about Russia, can't you?
Originally, I thought the Plevitskaya story would make a good movie, but when I discovered how difficult it can be to sell a script to the movie industry, I went for writing a historical novel. I planned to include what was known about Plevitskaya, and fill the gaps with what happened in her time and with my own experiences. Having lived with Russian music for a long period of time, I was qualified for that. It still makes me smile when my readers ask me to reveal what comes from my own life and what is historic. These are my little secrets, though.
Writing my book took about four years because I could not always stick with it, due to the fact that I still had to make music for a crust. Writing comes quite naturally to me, always has - that's why I was an AP journalist for a while. But for a novel you have to change style, and that took some getting used to. Once I had tuned myself into that, it was not difficult. Having a timeline (1899 - 1938) made it easier, too. Once I had decided that I wanted to proceed, I joined a writers group to read out segments and test the audience's reaction. That meant I had to operate with aliases for the famous names like Plevitskaya, Rakhmaninoff, and Skoblin. My intention was to come out first with the complete story of Plevitskaya. You just don't know which connections individuals in a writers group, or any other audience, may have. They could have talked about that interesting story to someone who has more resources than myself. Giving someone the real names would have meant to provide them with the key to my treasure trove, as it were. Only my husband knew. What if someone took a shine to to the topic, probably being faster than me since I could not work on a book full time? Using aliases also had the added benefit, that peoples reactions where not coloured by famous names, Plevitskaya's friend Rakhmaninoff in particular. They could judge the story for what it was, not for the gloss attached to the Rakhmaninoff name.
Parallel to the writing I pottered around the internet and bookshops assessing my possibilities to slot my work into a trad publishing house.
I could see that was impossible. I was well over 30, not famous, and I do not have another six novels in my filing cabinet. I really want to see some results before I spend more years on writing, apart from the fact that I cannot justify this activity to my partner, when it does not yield according to input. I have had that experience now and I would not want to miss it for the world, would prefer to do more writing instead of music, but without results that would not be fair. Who can ask the partner (year after year) to do the cleaning, washing, and shopping - just for sitting down and write more books for the filing cabinet? One has to be realistic, when you're over 30 and not famous, agents and book publishers do not want to know you and the quality of the book is not even assesed.
Self-publishing was not my first choice, but once it became quite clear what the parameters of trad publishing houses were, and that I did not fit their bill, the decision to stay out of the queue of weeping hearts was not difficult. I do not have hundreds of rejection slips plastering the small room.
Incidentally, of those books that do reach the shopshelves, 95 % die quickly because they were not chosen for a review in the newspaper. The paper has not got review space for more than 5 % .
I call my book a samizdat book. Samizdat means self-publishing in Russian, but the word also stands for 'outside the system', 'uncensored', and that's what self-publishing means today. Here is Australia, only 1 in a 1000 books submitted can be taken up by a trad publisher, so it is not a judgement on quality, when there is no room in the inn for 99.9 percent of all books written.
Books are now going the same path as music. Self-released CDs were once shunned but today nobody takes much notice any more, if the CD is self-released or carries a famous brand name. This change in the industry has even gone so far that it led to the recent closure of a formerly worldwide operating German record label.
I am very pleased to say, that the acceptance which we have seen grow in the music industry is now rubbing off to books, albeit slowly.
When I read that the Australian movie industry suffers from a story shortage, I wondered if they should not take notice of the creative potential that leads to samizdat books. After all, the book industry has changed, and no longer offers filmmakers the choice it once did. It could even mean catching two flies with one stone: Filmmakers have a larger choice, samizdat authors get some exposure and financial reward, plus filmmakers will not have to fork out exhorbitant sums to option a book because samizdat authors will probably be happy with half of what trad publishers used to pay for an option.
At the moment I am still translating my book, all 518 pages of it, which will make close to 600 in German, unless I trim a bit. When that's in the can, I plan to get together with other samizdat producers to kick off an exhibition/fair of samizdat products, where we can draw attention to our growing segment in the creative industry and lose some of its fragmentation.
In effect, we must create our own sandpit after the trad publishers have decided most of us are not welcome in theirs.
The goal posts have shifted in the creative industries. It will not be long until self-published/samizdat books are as acceptable as self-released CDs and DVDs – wanna take a bet?
PS: I was first with telling the Plevitskaya story in full!
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