Weeks passed without a word from the publishers, How To Books.
I left it until early December 2006 and decided they may not have received it – cyberspace is a delicate flower sometimes and ‘bounces back’ and systems go down often occur (I should have been in IT!) and emailed to ask them whether there was any news.
Wow, next day a response, apologising for the delay and explaining how busy things were and that they would give it full attention very soon. You forget when something is so important to you that other people have busy lives and life does not just revolve around you. I was just pleased that it hadn’t been laughed out of court!
But then January passed and so did most of February – this couldn’t be right. So with fear of rejection, I rang and asked politely whether I should be looking elsewhere for a publisher. I was pleased to hear (well sort of) that the revolution known as cyberspace had once again let us down – we all know that if you open an email and promise yourself you will deal with it later, there is every chance that you may unwittingly forget, as more letters, emails, requests, faxes, post it notes etc. land on your desk. And this is what happened to my proposal – I was promised attention and they would get back to me in the next week.
In fact I got an email that night saying they would be keen to hear more and would want a detailed proposal of chapters and a sample chapter – now I WAS excited.
I worked furiously on the detailed proposal of chapters and showed a good friend of mine, Steve, what I had put together, he tweaked and adjusted it (and in fairness made it look a lot better) and I sent it to How To Books with the promise that I would get a chapter to them in the next two to three weeks; as an author needs time to create their masterpiece!
I emailed them at 10am on 15th March, hoping I’d get a ‘thanks and looking forward to seeing the sample chapter’.
This time my guarded optimism was unfounded – at 10.18am on 15th March I was offered a book contract, stating ‘It’s great’ and no need for a sample chapter. Then a barrage of questions I hadn’t even thought about – what’s the word count, delivery date and what did I think of ‘The Consumer`s Guide to Negotiation How to negotiate great deals in your personal life and save a ton of money’ as a title?
OH MY WORD!!
I was in a library and I got up and punched the air – what a fool! Still I was ecstatic and words don’t aptly describe the feeling. The thought I would soon become an author, recognised (hopefully) as an expert in the field – it seemed to me that the book, even in my own mind, helped me feel that I knew what I was talking about and somebody else wanted to hear more. This cloud 9 feeling lasted hours and then reality set in….
Mmm word count, delivery date, 50,000 words – how do I do that? Where do I start? This had been an idea, a thought out idea, but I didn’t want to raise my hopes at an early stage, so hadn’t really concerned myself with the smaller detail.
I decided that I would write the first sentence and see how it went!!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Taking that first step
Now this is an author’s journey, so I'm going to skip the 'starting up a business' journey, it’s been done before.
Also I’ll skip the freelance roles that allowed me to earn some money whilst I discovered coaching and set up my business – one I keep up, loving every minute of the variety it offers me, and that’s being involved with The Championships at Wimbledon.
The coaching element had a significant part to play in the book for 2 reasons; firstly, coaching helps you realise the power of goal setting, it helps you break down challenges into small steps that then can lead to huge and positive long-term benefits.
Secondly, it made me disect the subject matter I wanted to write about (negotiation for the consumer) and express it in ways that the reader would understand, learn from it and then put their learnings into action.
In September 2006 I felt that I really did 'have a book inside me', and encouraged by Suzy Greaves, a fabulous coach, who specialises in helping individuals make their 'big leap', I sent off a book proposal.
My idea was simple. For years I had watched people in shops paying full-rate for everything - stereo systems, camcorders, cars - you name it. I was surprised to see that people rarely negotiated.
Then I realised why - it’s not very British; people find it embarrassing, they don't know where to start and feel they would not be good at it.
The fear of failure or embarrassment stopped them.
So if I could address these issues of inhibition, then perhaps I could change people’s perception. I knew that I could, because I did this in coaching. The difference was now, what I could previously articulate and extrapolate in a coaching conversation, needed to be put into print, and this was a whole different ball game. This had to be written as if I could predict what the reader would be thinking as they read the chapters – their objections, worries, inhibitions and ‘what if’s?’
But hey, I didn’t want to worry about that one until I had got a publisher to agree to print it!
The proposal needed to build a picture for the publisher that could allow them to think that readers would want to part with their heard-earned cash. Not one or two, but several thousand to make it a worthwhile proposition. The proposal had to be catchy, succinct, however enough detail to wet the appetite.
Choosing who to contact was a minefield – there are so many out there. Of course I had heard of the ‘biggies’, but strangely they seemed to distance themselves from ‘wannabe’ authors (or certainly the ones I looked up did) – stating that they did not accept book proposals directly from authors.
So I went to Google and typed in three words, ‘how to books’, and as if luck would have it, the first name to come up was – funnily enough – How To Books; a publisher that happily gave you their contact details and welcomed proposals. So I plumped for them as my first port of call.
The proposal for ‘Stand and Deliver’ (a reference to Dick Turpin) went off, early September 2006, putting my sales skills to the test in a 3 page offering.
The dizzy dream seemed a lot more focussed now, the reality of a book deal still a long way off, but the first step had finally been taken.
Now the title didn’t get passed the first hurdle, and on reflection now, I can completely see why. But for the moment, I was happy to have taken that first major step of sending my idea for someone to review. No-one likes failure, and thoughts of perhaps being laughed at for the idea – or worse still ignored – I had come to terms with. Nothing ventured – nothing gained.
As far as I was concerned, for now I had taken my 'big leap'……
Also I’ll skip the freelance roles that allowed me to earn some money whilst I discovered coaching and set up my business – one I keep up, loving every minute of the variety it offers me, and that’s being involved with The Championships at Wimbledon.
The coaching element had a significant part to play in the book for 2 reasons; firstly, coaching helps you realise the power of goal setting, it helps you break down challenges into small steps that then can lead to huge and positive long-term benefits.
Secondly, it made me disect the subject matter I wanted to write about (negotiation for the consumer) and express it in ways that the reader would understand, learn from it and then put their learnings into action.
In September 2006 I felt that I really did 'have a book inside me', and encouraged by Suzy Greaves, a fabulous coach, who specialises in helping individuals make their 'big leap', I sent off a book proposal.
My idea was simple. For years I had watched people in shops paying full-rate for everything - stereo systems, camcorders, cars - you name it. I was surprised to see that people rarely negotiated.
Then I realised why - it’s not very British; people find it embarrassing, they don't know where to start and feel they would not be good at it.
The fear of failure or embarrassment stopped them.
So if I could address these issues of inhibition, then perhaps I could change people’s perception. I knew that I could, because I did this in coaching. The difference was now, what I could previously articulate and extrapolate in a coaching conversation, needed to be put into print, and this was a whole different ball game. This had to be written as if I could predict what the reader would be thinking as they read the chapters – their objections, worries, inhibitions and ‘what if’s?’
But hey, I didn’t want to worry about that one until I had got a publisher to agree to print it!
The proposal needed to build a picture for the publisher that could allow them to think that readers would want to part with their heard-earned cash. Not one or two, but several thousand to make it a worthwhile proposition. The proposal had to be catchy, succinct, however enough detail to wet the appetite.
Choosing who to contact was a minefield – there are so many out there. Of course I had heard of the ‘biggies’, but strangely they seemed to distance themselves from ‘wannabe’ authors (or certainly the ones I looked up did) – stating that they did not accept book proposals directly from authors.
So I went to Google and typed in three words, ‘how to books’, and as if luck would have it, the first name to come up was – funnily enough – How To Books; a publisher that happily gave you their contact details and welcomed proposals. So I plumped for them as my first port of call.
The proposal for ‘Stand and Deliver’ (a reference to Dick Turpin) went off, early September 2006, putting my sales skills to the test in a 3 page offering.
The dizzy dream seemed a lot more focussed now, the reality of a book deal still a long way off, but the first step had finally been taken.
Now the title didn’t get passed the first hurdle, and on reflection now, I can completely see why. But for the moment, I was happy to have taken that first major step of sending my idea for someone to review. No-one likes failure, and thoughts of perhaps being laughed at for the idea – or worse still ignored – I had come to terms with. Nothing ventured – nothing gained.
As far as I was concerned, for now I had taken my 'big leap'……
Monday, January 28, 2008
In the beginning
I will try and get you up to speed faster than Doctor Who would time travel from Gallifrey to Earth, but without missing out the juicy bits, and we can concentrate on the here and now, if you have the inclination.
There I was in 2005, in a career that had the envy of many.
Lunching at the Ivy, quoffing Chatéux Neuf de Pape (I have an uneducated pallet) and eating a sumptious plate of corned beef hash (I have basic tastes), dealing with very bright types from the advertising world, who, at lunchtime (and sometimes well into the evening) would be the greatest of company, but by the next day, we could be at verbal fisticuffs over the price of a half page advert, temporarily forgetting our good, if not sometimes surface only friendships.
Now that is a bit harsh, as from the newspaper and advertising world I have forged some of the greatest friendships; however, those 'in the industry' will know what I mean.
Of course I am simplifying my job for dramatic effect, but you get the jist.
In February of that year, I finally decided, after long deliberation, that this world, in its current format, was no longer for me.
The industry was and is still, extremely exciting. It allowed you to fulfil a fabulous social life, courtesy of a company expense account, with skiing in the Alps, jollies to international rugby and spa days to pamper yourself and your clients. As with all of these events there was a business purpose to them, and we entertained clients in order to cement relationships and develop the business.
Media sales was full of intelligent individuals, the vast majority of which were fun to be with. The business was fast-paced and taught you to thrive on chaos each and every day, with deadlines to meet and news items affecting your every move.
It was infectious.
But as a family man, I was torn between this seemingly amazing lifestyle and a family life which I loved, as I invariably felt shattered at the end of the working week. I was part of an ever-growing list of fathers that I read about, spending no more than twenty minutes quality time with their children each week – something I wasn’t proud of, or indeed happy with.
Hey, life is not to be full of regrets. I wanted to be 65 and still have the boys wishing to ‘hang around’ with Dad (as much as they would ever want to!) I wanted to enjoy retirement with my wife and not spend the first 5 years trying to build bridges with her. Finallly, I wanted do something that I believed in passionately – developing and dealing with people.
So, in January 2005, I took the plunge and resigned from my post. Many said 'good on you' you'll be great. Some looked at me as if I had suddenly grown two heads, and, without actually saying it, thought I was mad to give up an already successful career.
Many thought that either I joined a religious cult or perhaps won the lottery - neither of which are true - though funnily enough, I think I have strengthened a lapsed faith, but this happened gradually and certainly not at the time of change.
So, after serving a short period of my notice, I left.
Not a relief, more of an initial burden - no job. It was still winter – cold wet and dark – and a happy vision with a game plan.
A game plan that involved my own company - as a consultant cum coach, and a very dizzy dream of writing a book and being a feature writer in a multi-media world.
Mmm my game plan had a few teeny weeny holes in it though - I had no company set-up, a business plan that I'd scratched together and a 'C' in English at 'O' level and was told by my teachers that my essays ‘lacked depth.’All I had was a strong background in sales, negotiation and leadership and a passion for helping people develop – like a personal trainer would at a gym – but in their lives as a whole. Oh yes… and an idea of a book, but not a clue as to where to start.
It seemed such a good idea at the time...
There I was in 2005, in a career that had the envy of many.
Lunching at the Ivy, quoffing Chatéux Neuf de Pape (I have an uneducated pallet) and eating a sumptious plate of corned beef hash (I have basic tastes), dealing with very bright types from the advertising world, who, at lunchtime (and sometimes well into the evening) would be the greatest of company, but by the next day, we could be at verbal fisticuffs over the price of a half page advert, temporarily forgetting our good, if not sometimes surface only friendships.
Now that is a bit harsh, as from the newspaper and advertising world I have forged some of the greatest friendships; however, those 'in the industry' will know what I mean.
Of course I am simplifying my job for dramatic effect, but you get the jist.
In February of that year, I finally decided, after long deliberation, that this world, in its current format, was no longer for me.
The industry was and is still, extremely exciting. It allowed you to fulfil a fabulous social life, courtesy of a company expense account, with skiing in the Alps, jollies to international rugby and spa days to pamper yourself and your clients. As with all of these events there was a business purpose to them, and we entertained clients in order to cement relationships and develop the business.
Media sales was full of intelligent individuals, the vast majority of which were fun to be with. The business was fast-paced and taught you to thrive on chaos each and every day, with deadlines to meet and news items affecting your every move.
It was infectious.
But as a family man, I was torn between this seemingly amazing lifestyle and a family life which I loved, as I invariably felt shattered at the end of the working week. I was part of an ever-growing list of fathers that I read about, spending no more than twenty minutes quality time with their children each week – something I wasn’t proud of, or indeed happy with.
Hey, life is not to be full of regrets. I wanted to be 65 and still have the boys wishing to ‘hang around’ with Dad (as much as they would ever want to!) I wanted to enjoy retirement with my wife and not spend the first 5 years trying to build bridges with her. Finallly, I wanted do something that I believed in passionately – developing and dealing with people.
So, in January 2005, I took the plunge and resigned from my post. Many said 'good on you' you'll be great. Some looked at me as if I had suddenly grown two heads, and, without actually saying it, thought I was mad to give up an already successful career.
Many thought that either I joined a religious cult or perhaps won the lottery - neither of which are true - though funnily enough, I think I have strengthened a lapsed faith, but this happened gradually and certainly not at the time of change.
So, after serving a short period of my notice, I left.
Not a relief, more of an initial burden - no job. It was still winter – cold wet and dark – and a happy vision with a game plan.
A game plan that involved my own company - as a consultant cum coach, and a very dizzy dream of writing a book and being a feature writer in a multi-media world.
Mmm my game plan had a few teeny weeny holes in it though - I had no company set-up, a business plan that I'd scratched together and a 'C' in English at 'O' level and was told by my teachers that my essays ‘lacked depth.’All I had was a strong background in sales, negotiation and leadership and a passion for helping people develop – like a personal trainer would at a gym – but in their lives as a whole. Oh yes… and an idea of a book, but not a clue as to where to start.
It seemed such a good idea at the time...
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