The Formatting Process - Create Space

Last week I had a consultation with the interior design team at Create Space, and was advised that the mock-up of my first chapter would be completed in a week.  Today I received the mock-up.  I can’t be more thrilled.  Interesting enough, while formatted, the page count of the mock-up closely matches the text that I sent.  I submitted 14 pages in chapter one, and the formatted version came out to be 14.5 pages.  This wouldn’t be an issue if my book wasn’t 325 pages and I didn’t want to format the page-count down to 250 pages.  Bottom line, I don’t want spacing to be tight, but I also don’t want to limit my profits.  Yes, I am assuming that I will actually sell the book that I put blood, sweat and tears into.  And yes, I do hope to make a modest profit for my effort to entertain.  :-)

Profits are determined by a grid that considers the page count, trim size and list price, which the author sets at Create Space.  For a 300 page book with 6 x 9 trim, and a list price of $14.95, the profit would be between $1.47 and $7.51 per book.  With a 250 page book with 6 x 9 trim, and a list price of $14.95, the profit would be between $2.13 and $8.11.  After careful consideration, I decided that I'd rather sacrifice profits for aesthetics.  

The formatting itself looks professional and I would hope so since I purchased Create Space’s Total Design Package, which includes book design and interior formatting.  I purchased the least expensive package, and I believe that thus far, I’ve gotten my money’s worth.  As I mentioned before, the book cover is phenomenal (see above).  What pleases me the most is Create Space’s quality of work as well as their ability to meet deadlines.  I do hope that I am pleased throughout the publication process.

Today, I’m going to approve the design mock-up.  The few formatting errors I see can be addressed in the next stage.  If I ask for the corrections now, I will receive another chapter one mock-up in 5 business days.  The changes that need to be made are simple and can wait.  There are a couple of paragraphs that are “double-indented”.  Also, the designer did not put Chapter One at the beginning of chapter one.  So, ten days from tomorrow, my entire book should be formatted, and I’ll address those issues at that time.

All in all, I’m a happy camper.

A sample of Chapter 1

The funny thing about life is you never know what’s going to happen next, but you can certainly steer the journey, even if turbulent winds move you off course.  Annette Styles, the protagonist in Seasons Change, finds herself off course and completely disheveled.  She calls the police because she's the victim of dometic violence.  An hour later from the precinct, she calls her best friend to bail her out, not knowing that Monica Moses had just finished tying one on at a local dive... 

Copy written 2010

Monica cracked her window and lit a cigarette, and by the time she took her last hit, they were pulling up to Monica’s building.  It was at that moment that the sky opened and rain poured onto the pavement.  As she watched her neighbors run like roaches shocked by bright light, Monica pushed the button to the in-ground garage and entered. 

Upstairs, she punched her security code into the key pad and opened the door.  Waiting patiently in the foyer was Monica’s five-year-old Siamese cat, Roscoe P. Coltrane. 

“Come to momma,” Monica said then picked up her kitty and rubbed her cheek against Roscoe’s furry face.  The feline purred lovingly.  Monica purred back and then said to Annette, “a shower should make you feel better.”

With the stench of urine on her clothes from the police car and holding cell, Annette knew Monica made that comment for her sake as well as Annette's.  “Can you put my dress in the washer?” Annette said, walking down the hall with words and body language completely deflated. 

Monica would have rather burned it to ash, but she amicably did what she was asked.  She placed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt in the bathroom, started the shower and then grabbed a pillow and blanket for the couch, since she was not expecting a visitor and had a mountain of clothes waiting to be folded in the spare room.  She made a cocktail and sat on the couch with her feet on the coffee table and her kitty in her lap to speculate the details surrounding Annette’s arrest.   

She had not a moment to contemplate about what happened to her friend when she was interrupted by the shrill ring tone of Annette’s cell phone.

“What!” Annette bellowed.

Monica sat up in position to eavesdrop on her friend’s conversation, but it was unnecessary, as Annette’s usual quiet demeanor fell short of a full fledged conniption. 

“I can take care of him!”

“I’ve been taking care of him!”

“I’m his mother!” 

And then there was silence, so much silence that the refrigerator and furnace roared.

A few minutes later, Annette walked into the dimly lit living room dressed in the sweats that Monica provided.  She sat on the other end of the couch. 

            Even in the dark, Monica could see the bruises on Annette’s brown skin, and she knew where they came from.  Being the friend that she was, she thought about getting her forty-five and scaring the living shit out of Annette’s baby’s daddy, Montel Jaminson, but he’d probably show his ass and prompt her to end his miserable life.  And he just wasn’t worth going to jail over.

Monica draped the throw over Annette’s shoulders, poured her a drink, put the bottle in front of Annette, and then sat back down. 

They sat in silence and drank until Monica was overcome by the sounds of nocturnal life.  No longer able to wait for her friend to speak, Monica cleared her throat and said, “At one point in my life I had to pray to God to prevent me from sending a bitch to his grave.  Forget about busting out windows or tossing genitals in the woods.  I wanted to spit on his tombstone after I put him six feet under.  God forgive me.  And yes, girl, I recognize the look on your face, so please don’t insult my intelligence.  I’ve been there and got the t-shirt.  Tell me what happened.”  She took a sip of her cocktail, sat back, lit a cigarette and waited for a response. 

            Annette sat up looking dazed, slightly stoned.

Flashbacks were racing so quickly in her mind that she didn’t know where to begin.  It all happened so fast.  One minute she was fussing at Montel and the next thing she knew she was kissing the kitchen floor.

“He hit me,” Annette replied.

            That was obvious. 

Ever since I can remember...

Ever since I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a writer.  I used to tell my mom stories that I dreamt the night before, and she gave me the idea to sleep with a pen and notebook on my nightstand.  I wish I kept my journals but ended up tossing them aside, not thinking about how wonderful it would be to take a peak back in time.  Anyway, somewhere along my journey from childhood to adulthood, I put away my childhood dreams and got hooked in the grind of working in corporate America.  Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my job.  I’m fortunate to have a job that I enjoy, but like so many, I’m pinching the heck out of every penny.  Well, one day I was watching an early morning program… could have been Good Morning America, but I can’t say for certain because typically I watch FOX 5.  At any rate, there was this woman who actually baked her way out of foreclosure.  Can you imagine that?  She was NOT going down on the count.  That woman did something that she enjoyed doing and saved her home in the process.  I thought to myself, “Well, I’ll be damn.  What can I do that I enjoy that will put a little change in my pocket?” And that’s when I remembered.  I love to write.  So, I started writing again.  I’ve written for a newspaper and an online publication with topics such as speed dating, DADT, the National Cat Show, Teachers Day… whatever my editor told me to write.  And I have to tell you, I am so tickled when I Google my name and see the fruit of my joyous labor.  After a couple articles I knew; this is my true passion.  I’m just grateful that I realize what I want to do while I still have time to do it.  Some people never find out. 

Sometimes at night, I can hear my mother shouting from heaven, “Jennifer, don’t forget to put your pen and notebook on your nightstand.”  And I whisper back, “I remember mom.”

Response from Linkedin.com regarding Cover

Though, I can barely draw a straight line, I drew a sketch of what I wanted... a box with, words that said something like "fresh-faced, late thirties / early forties woman" for the top portion of the cover, but I had a scene of four trees in different seasons at the bottom, and the title centered in the middle. I knew what I wanted in my head, but like I said, I'm no artist. The graphic designer from Create Space presented what I envisioned, as well as her vision, using my concept. I liked her idea of the winter scene. I thought it contrasted with the spring scene above beautifully. The winter trees, (or dead trees as a friend of mine says) symbolizes struggle, and the spring scene symbolizes rejuvenation. It wasn't as easy as one, two, three. I had several, maybe five or so revisions. I had to see the cover different ways, until I knew it was right. I'm pleased. Seasons Change. Yes, I like the title too. :-) In the story there are flashbacks of significant moments, but the majority of the story takes place in semi-present day, primarily in the fall and winter. And attitudes, beliefs, and situations are changed within that time.

I'm so excited and I just can't hide it... I can't wait for my book to be printed!!

Seasons Change

My first novel, Seasons Change, will be published January 2011.  It should have been published December 2010, but I couldn't put the book down to save my life.  Every time I thought I was done, I'd find yet another syntax error.  Should have paid the $1000 for an editor, but I thought having a roof over my head, food on the table and clothes on my back would be a better option.  Anyway, January 2011.  That's my new plan and I'm sticking to it.  (At least for today!)  Back to my novel... it's about a woman, a black, down to earth, conservative woman, named Annette, who's the victim of domestic dispute and is forced to move out of her own home and find a full time job in order to take care of her son.  She moves in with her best friend, a white, hip, cigarette smoking, trash-talking lesbian named Monica, whom Annette's been friends with since childhood, and who is the Godmother of Annette's son.  That's when the craziness really begins. 

Be a guest on my journey, as I strive to become a bestselling author.  That's my dream, and I'm sticking to it!