First Time in Print: How Did It Feel?

I got a big box full of copies of my book the other day and felt the same way. Like I should have been leaping around with pride, but I was just sort of...eh.

So I'm glad I'm not the only one, anyway.

My only thing published so far was a story back in 2005. I was only paid $5.00 but I was so excited to see my story in print only because someone besides my family and friends thought it was good. So I was overly excited but I tend to get that way.

It felt great to see my book in print but I understand what you mean. I wasn't as excited as I thought I'd be, probably because there's a time lag between completion and printing and I was on to other ideas that were taking center stage.
Linnea

I was about 16 when I got my first short story published. I was happy to get my copy, but what really thrilled me was that forty bucks that came with it.

I was happy and excited, and it was cool to see in print, and so on and so on, but I was probably more excited when I found out my story would be published.

It doesn't feel like anything. The only thing that matters is when people say they enjoyed it.

Julie Worth said:

It doesn't feel like anything. The only thing that matters is when people say they enjoyed it.

Click to expand...

Pretty much the way I feel.

People ask me all the time if seeing my book on the shelves is surreal. I'm certainly proud of the accomplishment, but it's not surreal. I've wanted to be a writer since I was 6. I've done everything possible -- education-wise and so on -- to make that happen.

Seeing my mug on a Nobel Prize plaque? That would be surreal. Seeing my book on the shelves is a validation of a lifelong dream, one I never really wavered on.

I haven't been published yet, but I guess people feel that now their work is out of their hands, it's no longer so personal to them. Kind of like letting go, a bit like a divorce.


Elodie

I felt pretty good, especially after all those painful hours pounding a mechanical typewriter. (Thank whatever for computers!) Lookie-lookie and all that.

It's been a while. I was only a teenager but I was so excited. I think I framed the damn thing.

When I saw my book on the book store shelves for the first time -- well, I can't describe the feeling. "Grand" isn't enough.

I was fifteen when first published. I felt a mixture of emotions (hormones?); a bit of excitement, but mainly embarrassment, like, don't look at me. I didn't like the thought of peers from school judging me. Mum always said I worried too much.

During my first poetry phase many years ago, a young couple sat on my sofa together, reading my poems together while I watched quietly. At one page they smiled and looked at each other. At another, her face clouded in a troubled, guilty way, and he was clearly compassionate for her, troubled on her behalf. I have no idea which poems brought about the reaction, and it doesn't matter.

So when I read here that seeing one's own words in print is a let down, I get that. It can't compare with seeing them in someone's face.

My first few pieces ran in small eclectic mags back when I was in college in the 1970s. And yeah, I can sympathize. There's a brief buzz, the thought that "hey, I'm holding the payoff for all that hard work in my hand!" But after a few seconds, it's like "ah well .... ok, back to work on my next piece!"

inkkognito said:

When I first started freelancing way too many years ago, I thought it was going to be such a big thrill to hold that first magazine in my hand. When it finally came out, I felt curiously disconnected. Yes, it was my name and my words, but the thrill I expected just wasn't there.

Click to expand...

That's exactly what happened to me when I saw my first articles in print.

Now to see if it will be different with a novel...

I remember back in the early 80's when I heard some of my songs on the radio. It was a thrill. These days, I could care less about the thrills, I would rather see numbers of units sold. Now to find a publisher.

My first publication was in a local music magazine. It was a free publication, but actually had a pretty good circulation (about 10,000). The piece I wrote was an interview with a local band. The day it came out, before I'd even had a chance to grab a copy, I found one laying on the sidewalk (maybe not a good sign, but whatever). I flipped through it and when I saw that they'd actually run my piece, got so excited that I literally jumped around in a circle. I may have even had my arm raised in victory.

In other words, it felt pretty damn great.

I try not to let the realization (years later) of just how atrociously bad that first piece was dampen my memory of the moment.

It was very early in my writing career. Like, two months into it. An essay of mine was published, and the editor even called me. When I saw it in print, my hands shook so hard the page rattled. I made a gazillion copies. When I went to the library and saw someone reading that magazine, I pointed out that I was in it. To a total stranger!

Those were the days....

There was a huge typo--not in the story but on the section lead. Resulted in a few angry phonecalls from an interviewee and the outfit she represented. Not a great experience, all told...

inkkognito said:

So am I weird, or was it a bit of a letdown for others too? If I ever sell a book, I'm wondering if it will be the same. Maybe I'll feel a bigger connection because it's ALL mine vs. just being part of a magazine.

Click to expand...

I had the same sort of feeling when my first book came out. I think the problem is that before we're published we have this great and glorious Idea of What It's Going To Be Like -- a fantasy fueled by ego and media. You realize, once Publication Day gets here, that no papparazzi are going to follow you around, no media will be ringing your phone off the hook for interviews, and that the woman staring at you in the bookstore isn't "recognizing" you . . . she's looking at the book over your shoulder. By and large, publishing a book means little or nothing to those outside your personal circle of friends and family. It's a curiosity, sure. Most want to know how much you made and when is the movie coming out . . .

The "let-down" from my first book experience was worse than most. It was released at BEA in NYC in 2005; at my first signing I had lines (the books were free, but I convinced myself the people were there for me), the convention hall had a 30' banner of my book's cover, and that night my publisher threw a very well attended invitation-only debut party in mid-town Manhattan. Then I came back home to Alabama . . . and no one attended my first reading

I've become somewhat more cavalier about the whole process now. I might throw myself a small party once my third book comes out, or I might just get together with friends and play a few rounds of HALO 3, like I do every other Saturday night. I'm with Will, though: there's nothing remotely "surreal" about seeing my name in print. Geez, it's what I've been shooting for since I was a teen . . .

Best,

Scott

It was a very, very thrilling experience for me back in 1988. I got a nice advance, three major TV network spots/interviews, 22 radio appearances, over 40 newspaper write-ups, and my special author's badge to visit/participate in my first ever BEA convention, where I met Clive Barker, George Takei, and several other notables. A year later, the book was still selling, earning out and sucking in royalties.

Today, my pulse does not buck in my neck, with any news of publication. I seriously doubt if even Harper Collins could get a rise out of me. From typewriter to internet has probably been one of the worst disasters to ever hit the publishing industry. I long for the old days. But I will galantly fight and continue on, hoping that print today, means something more than me doing all the publicity, promising a marketing campaign, including a friend's and relative's list, and traveling all over god's green pastures to do book signings that unload a half-dozen copies at a time.

Tri

Well, I was kind of excited when I contributed a write-up to the Darwin Awards anthologies and got a contributor's copy, had the chance to read my work in print. But it wasn't nearly so exciting as the day a huge Tyvec envelope arrived with a Penguine return address and my name on it, holding my first book contract. As that was nonfiction, it's still not complete, but I may try putting the contract in a frame as my first book contract once it's published.

It's like the first time you have sex -- it's everything you imagined it would be, but... different.

And over way too soon.

I often put my stories into a file somewhere, but I'm not that organized, so sometimes copies get stuck in books or unrelated files. Two or three years later, I'll stumble on something, start to read it and think, "Hey, this is pretty good! I wonder who wrote it?" and it turns out, I wrote it.

I think I agree with a lot of folks here – the check is the best part.

Here's to more and larger checks.