The first run of I Town arrived last Thursday. It was a big day for us. It marked a milestone in a journey that began ten years ago when I decided to try to become a published writer and one that began three years ago when I did my first one-page sketch of the idea of people walking on a treadwheel. The day also included yet another of the odd tasks involved in the work of self-publishing: trucking a thousand copies of I Town home.
A pallet of boxes came from Grand Rapids and was supposed to be brought directly to my home. I paid a little extra for delivery by a truck with a lift gate to come to a residential neighborhood. I expected a two-and-a-half ton truck, the size of U-haul’s biggest rig. When the driver called and said he was in an eighteen-wheeler, I agreed that he probably didn’t want to try to navigate the streets in this old part of town. So I met him at another drop where he transferred the pallet from his truck to mine.
It was just another example of the things that pop up for a writer who decides to self-publish. Publishing a book, taking it from the double-spaced, Times New Roman 8-1/2X11 Word doc to a standard acceptable format and getting it into readers’ hands, is one of the most challenging tasks I’ve ever taken on. Writing is a lonely job, and that’s one of the things I like best about. But publishing is a massive job that has consumed most of my time over the last few months. If I weren’t by nature such a DIYer, I never would have made it this far.