One of the biggest drawbacks of vanity presses and POD (print on demand) publishers is the illusion that they’re doing the work that a “real” publishing house does. Writers figure that they are paying the vanity press to produce a book equivalent to what Random House, University of Nebraska Press, or Simon & Schuster would produce. In reality, they provide little or no proofing or copyediting, the cover comes from a plug 'n play template, the cover paper is so cheap it curls on the bookstore shelf before anyone even buys it, the layout is pure cookie cutter, and the promotion consists of adding it to a few databases.
Yes, there are a few titles from PublishAmerica and iUniverse that I carry at my bookstore, but only because they’re written by well-liked locals who send their friends in to buy them.
A fairly question on game developer message boards is “I have a really cool idea for a game, what do I do with it?”
The surprising answer is: NOTHING. Game ideas aren’t like movie scripts. Game companies never buy ideas or even finished designs from outside the industry. (Although they may occasionally hire a professional designer to produce a design for them.)
Ideas are cheap. I’ve personally got half-a-dozen ideas for future projects that I’m kicking around right now. Most professional designers I know are the same way. Game design isn’t about have one big, Brilliant Idea. It’s about having hundreds of little Good Ideas consistently, week in and week out.
And, as a bookstore owner, I’m sure you can confirm that the lack of returnability is usually a deal-killer.
For others, POD books, unlike standard books, are not returnable (all major and most minor publishers books are held in bookstores essentially on consignment: if they books don’t sell, the bookstore gets a full refund). Bookstores aren’t going to shell out money for a POD book because they’re stuck with it if it doesn’t sell. About the only time they’d do it are circumstances that InvisibleWombat lays out: a local author who has lots of friends.
I have been obsessed with different artistic activities at different times all through my life. At one point, I was absorbed in floral design. I had taken a parks department 5-class course and fell inlove. I would spent hours in the library, comb fields and interstate median strips for wildflowers to practice with. I was talking with a friend about the movie Pretty Woman (trust me, this is going somewhere), and we were bothsurprised by the details we noticed in the luxury hotel and party scene in the beginning. I was dazzled by the floral arrangements, and impressed by the placement of small elegant floral touches throughout. I used the word “architectural” in describing some of the impressive arrangements, and my friend began to wax poetic about the moulding and doorknobs and plumbing fixtures - because she was studying interior design. It’s impressive to me that the filmakers know there will be obsessives of all stripes watching the film, and the good ones will add all the touches to make it work.
I have been working primarily in beading for about ten years now. In the past few years I have begun making my own lampwork beads. I will never again see a necklace of symmetrical lampwork beads without being extemely impressed. I’ve sold a few necklaces, and the focal lampwork beads are always good for a long conversation. So now, I always notice the necklaces of the talking heads on the news and wonder if they made them or bought them (Robin of Robin & Company on CNN Headline News is a great example - she has so many beaded necklaces that I’m tempted to write to her and ask if she makes them herself). Also, seeing cheap but beautiful beaded jewelry instores baffles me - how can they sell such work-intensive items so cheaply? I’m guessing Chinese and African labor, but it is disheartening to know I can’t sell my stuff as easily because of the easily available cheap stuff.
My brother was selling some of his scrollsaw work for a while, and then tons of really cheap stuff started appearing in town. He asked the guy that made the cheap stuff how he could afford to spend four hours making a clock and sell it for $20, especially when the wood and clockworks cost around $8. The reply: “I’m retired, and I’m just doing it for fun. I don’t really need the money.”
A woman spotted a music box I made that took first place at a woodworking competition. She asked what I’d charge to make her one just like it. I put in 50 hours building it, so if I wanted $20 per hour, I’d have to charge her $1,000 (not counting materials). I told her “never mind.”
Yeah, it’s the same thing with models. Someone wants a model of a car they had when they were a kid; but you can’t charge them enough to make it worth your while.
Exception: I once read an article by a guy who was making fairly good money building models of funny cars (drag racers). He had it down to a science: the cars were all pretty much the same, except for paint, and he marketed to the race teams.