Paris Book Fair

Last weekend I went along to the Paris Book Fair. I thought it might be somewhat of an education for me, as I'm self-publishing a book on moving to France. I imagined I might learn something. This was a delusion. I also thought it might be a good opportunity to network, make some contacts, hand out some business cards I'd made specifically for my book, for this fair. Wrong again.

Having read as much as I could on the event website, in English and in French, I had erroneously assumed it might be a bit more international than it is. It's strictly for francophones, French authors and French publishing houses. Almost no one spoke English. Various regions of France were represented, as were French overseas territories, and a few other countries such as the guest country for this year, Argentina. The only international publishing flavour present was a small exhibition area by Amazon - a smart move on their part. Their display space concentrated on their print-on-demand division CreateSpace and their ebook division Kindle Direct Publishing, plus e-reader devices such as the Kindle Paperwhite and Kindle Fire HD tablet.

Publishing must be booming for Amazon, as for 98% of writers, finding an agent and publisher is an impossibility now. Agents and publishers are mostly only interested in what they consider a sure-fire hit by a known writer or celebrity, or something that's the latest fad. Good writing has nothing to do with it; much as good screenplays and films have nothing to do with Hollywood backing. Amazon is filling the market void, enabling indie writers, like myself, to avoid the rip-off publishers known as vanity publishers.

With CreateSpace I can publish my book and take a much higher percentage of royalties while retaining all my rights to my own material. I have to do all my own marketing but that would still be mostly the case if I had a traditional publisher doing the rest for me.

I've paid to have my manuscript professionally edited. I've paid to have my book cover professionally designed so that I have total control over how things look. It's not cheap, but it's cheaper than vanity publishers, without all the disadvantages of those. Everything else I must do myself, such as formatting interior design, uploading, tax issues etc. It's a learning curve where I take all the risks and most of the benefits, IF I can sell copies.

It's the same with KDP. I have total control over my ebook version. In order to reach readers using different e-readers not compatible with Kindle, I'll also publish on Smashwords. Each option gives me international coverage.
 So, apart from a couple of tips gleaned from a speaker at the Amazon stand, I learnt nothing. I spoke to one other print-on-demand business but he was small, gave tiny royalities, locked in rights for two years and had limited knowledge of Amazon's business. I suggested he bone up on it, as he'd have a hard time competing. I've little time for businesses that don't see the need to understand their competitors.

It was also a bit of a surprise seeing the obsessed fans of certain authors queuing forever to get a signed copy. These authors' names meant nothing to me because most were strictly French. Most of the congestion in the exhibition was due to these book groupies.

I don't have the means to visit the London Book Fair. Maybe if I can have modest success with my book Follow My Heart it might be worth me doing that next year.

The little silver lining amongst the storm clouds

It's always been a great sadness to me that I am not able to do real gardening here in France because all I have right now is an urban apartment. Sure, I have a balcony and I furnish it, stuffed to the gills, with flowers and vegetables in summer but it's so limiting. I need a parcel of land. The state of things at work being what they are, I don't know if I can keep my apartment much longer because it's unclear if my contract will be renewed for its second and final year.

I've just found out that my bankrupt employer will be cutting staff (teaching staff) by 20%. An administrator has told me I should look for something else now, in case of the worst. That's bad and I know who is to blame for this apalling state of affairs. I hope something extremely nasty happens to that person for hurting so many innocent people. But so far, all my efforts to find work, the hundreds of hours spent in applying for jobs, filling in online forms since November 2010, when I realised the awfulness of the job situation I found myself in, have resulted in a big fat zero. How can someone with all my various industries experience, education and application find herself effectively unemployable in both France and NZ? Clearly, whatever efforts I am making are not meant to bear fruit and there's no alternate path I can see, other than my writing and that's unlikely to provide a reasonable income one day. I need a miracle so I'm trying to remain hopeful while psyching myself up to lose everything I've tried to build up in France. It's getting harder and harder to deal with this while keeping a cheerful outlook.

JC knows what I'm trying to deal with and I think he has finally realised just how serious things could be for me. He's trying to help pick up my spirits and give me something to work towards. As I arrived at his house this weekend I just burst out laughing. He had made a sign; in his own way he was trying to show me I had a place a little closer in his life.

I also think it's pretty romantic in its way. Why? Because despite for years telling me he would never have a conventional garden (bare earth) and especially not a vegie garden (too much work and too risky if a fox pissed on the vegies) he has decided that one day after he has had the land tidied and levelled that I can have some of it for myself. I'd be able to choose all my favourite flowers and vegetables and even have raspberries and grow them. I could have a real garden at his place one day. And if I become unemployed I could live with him until I can find a solution to my residency issues, if I can find a salaried job somewhere.

He made sure I noticed the exact wording: It's Kiwi's Land (his nickname for me is Kiwi because I'm a NZer) and it's for me. "It's not Kiwiland" he said. I'm touched by this as he's such an independent person (I am too) but it's a very sweet gesture with a message that he sees me in his life in the future. I'm doing all I can not to wreck his independence or mine (at our age it's rather important to have this) so I continue with my frustrating job search in a country with rules that go against me.

We had a bit of fun with this as you can see; Baika the hunting dog guarding my 'territory' with me and JC's hunting rifle. We later added the barbed wire. So, no trespassers. This might be as close as I ever get to having a little bit of France on loan.

Life as a Poem

This week I had my Modern Literature students study a famous American poem. It has special significance for me these days and is about making choices in life; between two paths which seem a little similar but we choose one and hope to try the other another day, knowing that we are unlikely to. We choose a particular path and this makes a huge difference in our lives. Yet, we think about that Road not Taken so what is this difference between them, in the end? We don't know.  I wonder how it came to be that I inadvertently chose this poem for my class. It was unknown to me a month ago.

Looking back I can see there have been instances of diverging roads and I've tended to take the one most travelled, a false 'safe' path, until 2010. Now, here I am. Recently I've taken another path through the wood, I'm trying to become a successful author and I'm taking the self-publishing route. It's a difficult path where most people sell only 100 copies. I want thousands of my books to sell (at least) and that's going to take help from friends and networks and a truckload of effort on my part.

What's down the path where I don't try to become an author? I assume it's more of the same right now and no hope of advancement, a slow decay fed by disappointment at a lack of options, so I'm giving myself an option. There are no guarantees but it's more open that what I see right now. I need income to survive into old age and I want to help others consider issues and 'feel' their own lives through my writing.

However, the Poem is called the Road Not Taken and so maybe we look back with 'what ifs?" Human nature tends to provide justification later for what decisions we make, especially if the choices are not really clear at the time. We put a positive spin on them.

Choices are frightening, risky things. Sometimes we feel like they aren't really options, just a sort of life or death decision. That's how it is for me these days. The things I decide now at this stage of my life feel as if they ring of 'life or death'. I'm living more on the edge than I have ever done but for me the option of sitting back and doing nothing to move the wheels of the universe is a  slow death. I don't know where this path will lead but along the way I'll be writing books and doing things I haven't yet imagined, and living.

These issues of life choices rang a bell with some of my students as we got to grips with this poem. Some of them have some hard decisions to make themselves and for some of those it was emotional. Here's the poem for you to enjoy, as they did. The video's lovely too.


The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost 1874-1963

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUaQgRiJukA

Kiwis in Paris

I sat in the train that was taking me to work, rolling through sun-drenched French countryside. Two strong emotions swept over me: gratitude and happiness at being where I am right now.

For the past 48 hours I have, for the most part, managed to let go of my fears for the future and just occupy my space in the present. Those two wonderful emotions were my reward. Perhaps warmer temperatures and sunshine helped. Maybe it was the encouraging comments from my matter-of-fact book editor. It doesn't take much to 'pick me up' and give me a better perspective on things. It also helped having more social contact with interesting people, especially expats and more especially fellow kiwis.

I've tended to avoid expat groups as I've really wanted to be integrated into France but lately the idea of chatting in English to fellow New Zealanders has seemed more inviting, so Jean-Claude and I went along to a France New Zealand Association meeting in Paris at the Brooklyn bar near the Pompidou Centre, fourth arrondissement. It's a bilingual group and this was my first time there. I met organiser Claire whom I had only corresponded with on Facebook and I met those completely unknown to me with such interesting backgrounds.

I met Rob who'd spent years in the French Foreign Legion. The first things I noticed about him were his very easy kiwi accent and his gentle smile. He's seen a bit of life many of us wouldn't want to see. He misses the beaches of his youth in NZ but doesn't seem to miss a lot else. I met Alistair who does project management and has lived in France for quite some time. Sankar was born in India but moved to NZ. He chatted away to me about all sorts of financial and immigration matters as he works for the OECD. Then there was Roger. To my amazement I discovered he is the retired publisher of the Harry Potter books. He's such an unassuming guy but with a lifestyle we can only imagine.

It's interesting to meet these talented kiwis who fly, pretty much, under the radar but who work and contribute in this fascinating country. I think I'm developing a taste to do more of this networking.
Visit http://www.francenz.com/

Paris International Agricultural Show

I'm so used to A&P shows, being a kiwi, but I haven't been to one for decades. The last would have been in Christchurch. My childhood included being dragged around the annual show, getting animal poo on my shoes and being assailed by excremental odours. But there was a charm to it; watching horse and cart races, ladies in fancy hats, sheep dogs demonstrating their skills. The difference with the one in Paris is that everything is indoors and it happens in winter.

It's huge. It covers several giant pavilions and there are four sections to it: livestock breeding; products and gastronomy; crops, plants, nature and lifestyle; agricultural services and professions. there was also an area for cats and dogs, I don't know why.

The mascot for the show this year was Bella who belongs to the Tarentaise breed of cattle. This site provided information in English http://en.salon-agriculture.com/Discover-the-Show/Who-is-Bella/All-About-Bella

Her personal information

• Date of birth: 7 May 2006
• Place of birth: Haute-Loire 
• Mother’s name: Leila 
• Father’s name: Notaire 
• Her children: 5 daughters! Douce, Etna, Fushia, Gaillarde and Hella

Bella, like the other members of the Tarentaise (or Tarine) breed, has eyes framed by black rings, as if she’s had her makeup done! Her coat is tawny in colour, uniform and light. Her hooves, mucous membranes and extremities are very dark, protecting her from the ill-effects of the sun. Finally, she has lyre-shaped horns, the tips of which are also black.

Bella has an easy nature, and is gentle and curious.
 
We started with the pavilion displaying food specialities from each region of France. Chocka with people, we just had to have patience. I tried a pineau wine from the Poitou-Charente region (my ancestral home). This is not to be confused with a Pinot. A pineau is a wine mixed with cognac, from the same region. I quite liked it but then I quite like ruby ports, muscat grapes and late-season dessert wines- sweet stuff!




Chocolates and other confectionery, meats, wine, artisan ice-creams, more wines, cheeses, jams and other preserves (especially duck products), even more wines, perfume products from Grasse, it just went on and on and we barely scratched the surface. One unusual product was the tourteaux fromage, 5euros each. They were cheese cakes which looked a bit like canonballs because the cheesy top is cleverly burnt to look like metal. My feet were killing me from my poor choice of boot for walking around so we headed off to see the animals.

Sheep of every kind, races I'd never seen before, dear old Rambouillet sheep who helped NZ's fledgling merino wool industry, hello Southdowns (I recognised you). Most of them had had enough of people and had their backs firmly to us. Cattle were chained and had handlers to protect them and the public against any interspecies conflicts.

I liked the engraved cattle bells many of them wore. Goats of every imaginable type of horms. Pigs in all colours, there was even a performance area for animals to ponce about in, doing their thing like rolling in the dust. The show is equally interesting for children, especially the chicken-hatching, right before our eyes. Such a struggle for some to get out and clearly there were the strong and the weak.


JC was much taken by a giant tractor, quite the Rolls Royce of tractors. Too big for most farms it nevertheless won admiring glances. This show is worth a visit if you're in Paris for a few days while it's on. Wear comfortable flat shoes and allow 4-5 hours minimum.

Beware traffic. On the day we went Paris was at it's worst and it took 3.5 hours to make a 1.5 hour journey and the parking problem was evident, even with a parking building nearby. Take the train if you can.

The Road to Authorship

This post is about what's involved in becoming a self-published author.

Living in France wasn't my only dream and it wasn't the only one that had to bide its time. Before my decision to pursue France I had the idea of becoming an author. Lots of people do and some of them do it. I was going to write an autobiography on growing up as a baby-boomer in NZ. And then I met Nicolas and my emphasis changed somewhat. My relationship with him was built on blind trust and hope. I told him back in 2008 I was going to write a book and include him in it. He wasn't fazed, instead suggesting he could put me in touch with his own publishers in France, when the time came. That sorry story came to an end at the beginning of 2010 and out of the muck came my determination to go it alone to France and thus the beginning of this blog. Now there will be a book, only it will be different to the original subject.

Becoming an author is a bit like moving to France; scary, expensive, confusing, liberating and usually lonely. Having finished my manuscript about my experiences in changing hemispheres and surviving the French I sent off query letters to literary agents and, where necessary, included sample chapters, synopsis and proposal. Most have predictably never replied. Those that did said it wasn't their thing. One said good luck and that she thought I wrote with poise and polish but...... well, I'm grateful to have got that much feedback.

Oh the hours I've spent trawling forums about becoming published. It seems I've got more chance of winning Lotto than getting a book deal and it's not necessarily due to the quality of the writing. You've got to be an established author or a celebrity to get a look-in. Even getting a book deal would mean a wait of at least 18 months before it would be available for readers and then my royalties would be miniscule after everyone's taken their percentage. Screw that, I've got better things to do than waste time doing stuff guaranteed to be a waste of time. So I've been researching self-publishing.

Nice little mine-field for the unwary. You can choose vanity publishing and get ripped off with huge fees for supplying almost nothing but you do end up with a book in your hand that maybe no one knows about or wants. It probably hasn't been professionally edited, more likely run through a spellcheck. I need to give myself the best chance of succeeding and that's not it.

More research and consideration of doing absolutely everything myself and then just finding a boutique printer to run off some copies. Nah, this is the digital age and I'm not a graphic designer. I need a little bit of hand-holding and confidence in presentation and distribution.

• Create an account with CreateSpace, Amazon.com's print on demand publishing arm
• Find a professional editor who understands commercial requirements.
• Research book interior templates styles and costs for later reformatting for print and ebooks. A license is required.

The manuscript will need to be rewritten depending on the editor's markups and suggestions. I must be prepared for hearing feedback I don't like. My editor is not doing proof-reading. I'm more interested in whether the structure and flow are working so hopefully around mid March he'll have found time to send me back my marked-up manuscript from the US. He was Stephen King's first editor and markets himself like that though I do wonder why, after 2000 book edits, he's not had other major successes. He's more affordable than anyone else I could find. Tick.

I'll need to format the manuscript according to a purchased interior template and then create a stable pdf that meets CreateSpace's requirements. There's uploading to be done. Do I want to complicate things with photos in my book? You can publish without a template but it'll look amateurish.

I agonised over whether to just go with a free ISBN (International Standard Book Number) from CreateSpace or be truly independent and buy one myself but I found I'd have to get one from the French afnil agency for that and their site is awful to understand and it talked about also having to have a legal deposit. It all got too hard and expensive so too bad, CreateSpace will be my publisher, not me.

Ooops, don't forget taxes/royalties. This has to be organised with the US tax department. Holy shit. Which country do I use as an account for this? More searching and worrying about implications with either NZ or France. I don't have a postal address in NZ but I do have an accountant there. Nope, have to go with France as that's where I'm currently living. So I had to research tax treaties between the US and France... article 12 royalties... 5% withholding tax. I spent over an hour on the phone with the IRS. Turns out the advice I'd found on the internet was already out of date and I needed to make a new international call elsewhere and wait... to get an EIN number as a non-resident taxpayer. Then I would need to download 3 copies of W-8BEN, fill them out and send one to CreateSpace, one to Kindle Direct Publishing and one to Smashwords once I have each of my account numbers with them.

So far, after placing that second international call to the international EIN section and spelling everything out over the phone I have now received my precious EIN number to avoid withholding tax on my royalties. I'll still have to pay tax on them in France.

Find a professional book cover designer who knows how to make thumbnails look good and takes endless revisions. Tick but oh oh, I can't get started on this because the internet is showing me there are now many other products out there with the same name as my book. I must change my book title.

Oh oh, there's a BBC reporter who has written books and she's on several pages of Google search before I ever find myself. I must change my name. This was all doing my head in. Requests for help on various chat forums didn't help much. Most close alternatives were taken according to Google and Amazon. Choosing a new title and author name was surprisingly difficult. After much deliberation I am publishing Follow My Heart under the name of Frances Lawson. So, maybe I can now let my cover designer know the book title and author. I'd better finish writing the blurb and bio.

Hang on. I've changed my book title so now I'll have to change my website name. Cue domain search for the title of my book - and it's available but at an staggering price for .com, so it'll have to be .co. Now I need to ring my US hosting company and ask them to transfer all my website content over to the new domain name. Simple, thank you Go Daddy. Next, change some content on the website and amend my email signature to show the new site. Phew!!! Does this ever end?

I suppose once you've done this self-publishing once and set everything up it gets a lot easier. To do it properly with a decent professional look is not cheap but it'll be slightly cheaper than a vanity publisher and I will have a high quality product(s) to sell indefinitely (paperback and eBook). Be warned, this is a huge amount of work and then marketing the finished product will be a job and a half too. I'd love to do better than earn back the (mortgage) money I've invested in this dream project. Tick bucket list.

My thanks to all those who've trod this path before me and left footprints for me to read.

Count me in!

I'd like to count for something. Generally I'm totally invisible in France, except to the tax and the work and immigration departments. I have no friends other than Jean-Claude, no 'colleagues' at work. I'm not part of a team or group. I have no parents who contact me; Dad is dead and Mum has dementia. Contact from my daughter is infrequent. In short, I have to be emotionally self-sufficient. This is a skill that's necessary when you emigrate alone but this situation of isolation does get a bit trying.

Despite regular attempts to form friendships, even inviting people to my home, it has resulted in zilch. Feeling like I don't count anywhere I ignored a little message left in my letterbox that announced France was holding a census. I shrugged it off as I hardly saw the point in filling out the papers since I never know how long I can stay here (given my work situation). So what did it matter if I was officially not there?

A couple of weeks later a letter without an envelope appeared in my letterbox. It was from the Mairie (town hall, local government) reminding me I needed to get hold of some census papers and fill them in. Come and do this at the Mairie before 14 February, it urged. Okay, okay.

L’Insee organise le recensement de la population du jeudi 16 janvier au samedi 22 février 2014. Objectif : mesurer la population vivant en France, pour mieux s'adapter à ses besoins. Il n'y a pas besoin de se déplacer, mais il est obligatoire de répondre aux questions. 
 
At the Mairie I explained why I was there and was given the papers to fill in on the spot. They are much less detailed than in New Zealand. They never ask any questions about ethnicity or religion - it's illegal in France. There were a couple of questions I needed explaining because the French love acronyms and I had no idea what they meant. No one checked if I'd filled everything out correctly but I assume I have.

 Most basic living in France is impossible without at least an intermediate level of French. I get by these days but it's not easy. So although I'm not identified I have at least been 'counted'.

My desire to be a little more visible drove me back, recently, to the Mairie, to meet the mayor again. I'd had a meeting with her mid-way through last year to volunteer my services to my town. Madame le maire was very interested but when I sent her a letter reaffirming my areas of expertise and asking how to move forward on that there was no reply.

Disappointed,I let it go but lately my isolation has been really bugging me anew so I thought I'd try again. I was told to come back any Tuesday between 10-12noon and wait for an opening. After reintroducing myself to her I explained I was still keen to be a volunteer. How could I help? How could I make social contacts in my community?


She explained the local elections were coming up and so she couldn't launch anything at present. I'd need to wait a couple of months but perhaps I might be useful to the heritage association. I like the mayor. Her name is Francoise and she's an affable sort of person, very approachable. I hoped something might eventuate but I didn't get too excited.

Two weeks later I received an email inviting me to attend the Annual General Meeting of the Historical Association, to be held near my home. Hmm, that's good, I thought but I still didn't get too excited as 99% of all my efforts to advance myself go nowhere, but I always try to decrease this percentage.

I arrived in plenty of time. An opportunity to exercise my French in a group of strangers who all know each other is always a challenge. AGMs tend to be boring affairs and this one seemed typical but I tried to pick up some new vocabulary in between the bits I couldn't understand.
The mayor attended and said hello to me. Well, that's good, my name is engraved on her memory now, I thought. During the meeting she introduced me informally as someone who could assist with English requirements.

The response was muted - well - the museum of millstones etc is very technical, really. I piped up saying I had a youthful brain and could learn. Everyone is retired and probably conservative. The mayor pushed a little more and tried to get them to come back to the issue of me helping. I hadn't expected them to be welcoming me with open arms but some slight enthusiasm for some younger blood and expertise would have been good. Never mind, they don't know you, I told myself. I decided the only way I could start getting any credibility and interest was to pay the membership fees and become official.

This association focuses on preserving and promoting the historical heritage of my town and its area roundabout. That includes the tourism aspects. I'm always interested in French history and culture so it could be a good fit for me if they'll let me fit in. I have lots of ideas and experience to offer - I know I could advance things, certainly the websites. My background in marketing, tourism, education, communications and public relations should be ideal.

I met a lovely lady there, also named Francoise, who took an interest in me and invited me to sit with her. She and her husband are retired bakers. As we exchanged contact cards I hoped that something might come of this. Next month, first Thursday of March I'll be back, hoping I can be included in some of their activities - count me in!