Read part 1: ‘Jono Coote – First Time Author’ here.
I guess I’m the wall, but thankfully it wasn’t shit that Jono was throwing, it was 120 pages of articulate, well crafted words and a tale that not only could I relate to, but also one that I was instantly keen to publish. As a published author myself I was all too aware of the uphill struggle that Jono was facing, trawling through last year’s copy of the Writers’ & Artists’ Handbook (a second-hand copy comes at a fraction of the price of the current issue) and then the oscillating waves of euphoria followed by self-doubt and despondency, as replies from those few publishers and agents who actually bother to reply, trickle slowly into the inbox. ‘Thank you for your submission, unfortunately blah, blah, blah’. I learned long ago that ‘who you know’ or quite possibly ‘who knows you’, counts as a good fifty percent of ‘what you know’. My first book, a camping cookbook published eight years ago, came about as I had the nous to introduce a camping equipment manufacturer to a publisher and persuade the two that my recipes, writing, illustrations and photographs might just result in a book that was financially beneficial to all three parties concerned. It worked, and launched my career as a freelance writer and in doing so enabled me to build up a collection of useful contacts as well as several friends along the way. Those contacts proved to be invaluable when it came to attracting further book deals. It is after all, easier to get a job when you already have a job and the same, it appears, applies to publishing deals especially if, as a result of your first publication, you attract a following on social media. That’s where the ‘who knows you’ bit comes into play.
I got to know Jono through skateboarding, having taken-up the pastime at a ridiculously late age in life. Jono, on the other hand, has been skating for the majority of his. Skateboarding opened my eyes to a whole new creative world and revealed a monumental level of artistic endeavour spanning a range of disciplines, from photography and film making to performance, music, poetry, creative writing, printmaking and illustration and of course the whole world of DiY skatepark building. Do It Yourself is ingrained in skateboard culture. Inspired by this I set up Red Fez Books as a means of putting out my own creative paean to this new-found obsession. I sold five hundred copies of a recipe book inspired by my experience of volunteering with a skateboard charity in Palestine, donating a portion of the profits back to the charity. I learned a great deal in the process, not least how easy it is to turn a profit in publishing, provided you’re able to shift product that is. Even with a relatively small following on social media, just 650 friends on Facebook, 3,000 followers on Twitter and barely a thousand on Instagram, CookPal ran to two print runs and I shifted all of them in less than six months. Red Fez Books has just a fraction of that following, but is steadily growing.
I’ll never forget the thrill and excitement of seeing my first book in print and holding it in my hands. For my second book and two after that I had the privilege to work with a publisher who not only encouraged my efforts, but was happy to act as a sounding board as my ideas developed, allowing me to play a role and influence the overall design from cover to chapter headers. This was an important lesson learned and one which benefited mine and Jono’s relationship while working together on No Beer on a Dead Planet. The relationship between publisher and author has a tremendous effect on not only the quality of a book, but also its success in terms of sales at least. The parallels with independent publishing and the music industry are there to see. Just as the Buzzcocks ‘self-published’ a thousand copies of the Spiral Scratch EP on their own label, New Hormones in 1976 and then went on to sell a further 15,000 before signing to major label United Artists, similar success stories are mirrored in publishing. Ben Myers’ Gallows Pole, originally published by Hebden Bridge-based Blue Moose, was flying off the shelves before being picked up by Bloomsbury, and no doubt the same will happen with Ronan Hession’s Leonard and Hungry Paul.
My moderate success with CookPal is all well and good, but when it comes to publishing someone else’s work a publisher takes-on a responsibility, albeit shared, for the success of their author’s artistic endeavour. This was something I was keen to point out to Jono as I suggested he might consider signing a deal with Red Fez Books. It was a deal based on that which I had with publishers of my own work, but with the royalty payments adjusted in Jono’s favour. I also explained that I had never published someone else’s work before and I had no distribution deal. What I did have was total and utter belief in the value of his work and a determination to put that work in front of as many readers as was within my capability.
As it happens, unbeknown to me at the time, Jono had been writing for various skate media for a number of years and was already well established as a freelance and well respected writer. Within two months of publication sales covered the costs of production and ten percent of profits will now go to the Ben Raemers Foundation, a charity which aims to end the stigma and burden that so often clouds issues of mental health by bringing awareness of these issues and suicide to the forefront within the wider skateboarding community.
As I hold a copy of No Beer on a Dead Planet in my hand, flick through the pages and then gaze at the boxes stacked in my study (I don’t even have warehousing facility) I can honestly say that I am as proud and excited about this book as I was back in 2013 when the advance copy of Guyrope Gourmet first landed on my doormat. No Beer on a Dead Planet is a book born of the DIY culture inherent within the skateboarding community that spawned it.
Read our review for No Beer on a Dead Planet here
IG: @redfezbooks
