Monday, 28 September 2009

Paddy Kelly's Blog

When Lauren Parsons of Legend Press asked me to write this blog, she very kindly gave me carte blanc on what to write about. Being a writer means I have an ego secondary only to that of an actor with political ambitions, and so thoughts of my first outlines were centred around how great I am and how stupendous my latest project, Operation Underworld, is.

Sure the novel is incredibly well written, boldly encompassing a timelessly complicated topic in a digestible yet entertaining format, despite the fact that it is the first novel ever written on the subject, and is only the first in a series of four, but that's not what I want to talk about.

In 17 years of professional writing in five countries, this is the first time I've dealt with an Indie Publisher.

For my sins, in a previous life I have been condemned to live in Dublin. Nice people, relatively good choice of cuisine, and all the latest films. But the literary scene?

The reality of life for a writer here is that a one armed blind man in a dark room trying to shove a pound of hot, melted butter up a wild cat's rear end would have a better chance of success then anyone trying to get published here. So when Underworld was picked up by the London Indie Legend Press, I was pleasantly surprised.

Then to discover their joint project, Exclusively Independent, and that British libraries have enough respect for writers that we actually get royalties when ever some one checks our books out of the library, cynicism, along with my cantankorosity, began to wane. However slightly.

My dealings in the last six months with Legend Press, have been personal, direct and straight forward. Unlike several other international big labels I've dealt with there is definitely a feeling of human contact, personal attention and a sense that things will get done.

In light of the current Google controversy, who like a planetary Borg Hoover travel the earth's literary universe sucking up anything in their path in the sole interest of quantification, the ramparts of Indie Publishers appear to be the last bastion of humanity in the ever-diminishing world of literature.

I write this completely without a secondary agenda, (such as they might pick up the second book in my series) and say that I am pleasantly surprised.

Thank you for listening, this has been one man's opinion. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a bastard from publisher in N.Y. who owes me a royalty cheque from a year ago. Time to call my cousin Guido from Brooklyn.


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