Some progress

I've been chipping away at my book manuscript for the better part of two years . . . a chapter here, a chapter there. And I'm still five or so chapters away from completing the first draft. But today I had to put together what I've got, because I'll be teaching a summer school course that begins next week. I printed out the thirteen chapters I've completed, bundled them together, and took them to the mail and copy center to be copied and bound.

I know I'm a long way from being done. But it was very, very satisfying to pick up a spiral-bound copy of the work I've completed thus far. Flipped through it. Lotta words in there. Lotta hours tied up in it. Lotta problems and puzzles in there that took me years and years to figure out.

Hope it'll sell. But even if it doesn't, it'll be gratifying to hold it in my hands.

Publishers

When it was time to send out the prospectus, sample chapters, and supporting materials for the textbook I've been working on, one natural question was, "Who do I send this to?"

There are, after all, lots and lots of companies that publish books. And if you run out of companies, you can always publish your manuscript yourself through amazon.com or lulu or any of a number of self-publishing companies. But publishing a textbook in today's market is a bigger project than simply putting the book together. Today, textbooks come with lots of ancillary materials: websites, instructor's manuals, student study guides, electronic homework services, and so on. For better or worse, if you want your book to be competitive with others in your niche, you need to have those materials available for the people that want them, which means that you need to work with a company that specializes in publishing textbooks.

Even more important, selling your manuscript to an established textbook company gives you access to that company's distribution network. The biggest companies didn't get that way by accident, and one key ingredient in their success recipe is that they have a sales force of representatives that make regular visits to college campuses, visit personally with instructors, and try to convince them to adopt your text. Nobody will buy your book if they don't know about it; access to a well-established distribution network makes finding a publisher specializing in textbooks crucial.

There used to  be a lot of textbook publishers, but consolidation over the past fifteen or twenty years has cut the numbers significantly. Further, textbook publishers tend to specialize in particular fields. So when I was ready to send out my materials for review, I really only had about six publishers to choose from that I felt had the resources to make my book a commercial success.

I contacted both book representatives and acquisitions editors at those six companies, and forwarded each company my materials. Within a few days, I learned that one company was already developing a text in the same area with another author (so "Thanks, but no, thanks, we won't be reviewing your manuscript.") Another already publishes a couple of texts in the field already and wasn't anxious to put resources into a third. I got a much kinder rejection letter from them, including some helpful suggestions about my materials and a reference to a person at another company. I never heard anything back from three of the other companies at all, which made me a little sad.

But I struck gold with the sixth company, and thank goodness, because if I'd been rejected by everybody, I might have melted into a puddle. They were both interested in the text and anxious to send some chapters out for review by faculty members currently teaching the course. After a few quick phone calls and email exchanged with the acquisition editor, my chapters were sent off for review.

One hurdle jumped. Many, many more to go.

Entrepreneurship

One of the virtues of the free market is that the lure of profits encourages people to apply their talents to helping others. The folks that invented and improved the automobile, air conditioning, the personal computer, made our lives richer and fuller and much, much easier. But they didn't invent these things because the loved us; they invented these things and brought them to market only because we were willing to pay for them.

For many, if not most, entrepreneurs, going into business means putting a great deal of financial capital at risk. For small operations, in particular, that capital often comes directly from the entrepreneur. Frankly, I'm a tightwad and I'm very risk-averse, which means that I've ruled out the ordinary path to being a self-made man. I prefer a steady paycheck, I prefer to keep my hard-earned dollars in one piece, and I would feel terrible for myself and my family if I risked our financial security on a business venture that failed. I can't begin to describe the respect I have for people who attempt to go it alone--they're much braver than I am, or they have much more confidence in themselves and their vision than I am ever likely to.

Writing the textbook that I'm currently working on is as close as I'll ever likely come to being my own businessman. Like the entrepreneur who opens a new store or invents a new product, I think my product is innovative enough, interesting enough, or of sufficient quality that others will want to buy it. If I'm right, the book may do well enough to fund a comfortable retirement.  But like most entrepreneurs, I make a substantial investment before the end product ever hits store shelves, so if it's a dog, that investment disappears. Fortunately for me, my investment is largely measured in hours that probably would have been devoted to watching American Idol and the like, so if this project bombs, at least my savings account won't suffer. That makes me sort of a chicken, at least compared to others who sacrifice both their time and their money when they open a business, but I am what I am.

And that's what this project is going to be referred to from this day forward: Al's chicken-hearted foray into entrepreneurship.

Stage One: Finding a Publisher

About four years ago, I found myself at a Chinese restaurant telling my wife that I had an idea for a textbook to accompany a college-level economics course. The idea was put on hold for a couple of years while we relocated, added a family member, and changed jobs, but after a couple of years the idea resurfaced and I began to work on it in earnest. Job one was finding a publisher for the thing.

There are enough people writing fiction that publishing houses find themselves with no shortage of completed manuscripts to read. But nonfiction is a different story, and academic work is even harder to come by. With a scarcity of new and original ideas in the economics textbook market, I didn't have to write the complete book before trying to find a publisher. Instead, I put together a shorter proposal with a few sample chapters of material. 

It is the proposal that sells the idea behind your work.The proposal (called the prospectus) outlines the nature of the project, including a tentative table of contents, and it places the proposed book in context with its competitors. It points out the shortcomings of competing books and informs the publisher how the proposed mansucript remedies those shortcomings. It also attempts to establish a viable market for the project. 

I sent publishers four sample chapters, complete with accompanying case studies and exhibits. I also sent descriptions of four in-class experiments, one to accompany each chapter. These experiments are one of the selling points of the manuscript--no other book in my market segment has active learning exercises to accompany the text, a point that I emphasized in the prospectus.

Before I sent out the packet, I had a well-trained formerly professional copy editor (who happens to be a good friend) carefully review everything I had written. I cannot overemphasize the importance of having a second set of eyes look over your work--especially if that work involves explaining things to other. Writing needs to be clear, concise, and comprehensible, and my editor-friend did an outstanding job of turning a decent manuscript into an excellent one. I paid her in booze, but truly the work she did for me was worth much, much more.

After a frantic couple of months putting the finishing touches on my samples, the time came when I could no longer think of any reason to wait. I sent my submissions and began to wait.

Okay, so it's been awhile . . .

but I've had some reasons, maybe even good reasons, for neglecting this blog. First among those reasons is that I spent the spring semester at Harlaxton College as a visiting professor, which was a fabulous experience. And rather than duplicate my wife's efforts at blogging (which you can see at alnemgrant.com), I chose not to blog at all. The second reason is that much of my spare writing lately has been devoted to a textbook project that appear to be heading forward. I'm planning to share some thoughts and updates about that process here in the days, weeks, and months to come.