Confessions of a Writer, For Anyone Interested in Publishing a Book (15 years of experience)

Rejections I receive, regularly
from the best and rest of them:

We have considered your proposal, but
decided not to accept it for publication.

Thank you for your submission,
sorry, we cannot make an offer.

We are unable to use your poetry
it is not quite appropriate for us.

We do appreciate your interest
good luck better luck best of luck.

Still I continue to draw and send forth
quivering arrows from this aching bow

Emboldened by Becket’s wry quip
“Try again, fail again, fail better.”

Citing Nietzsche’s modest abundance
“an artist does not know what is finest in their garden”

As I arrange yet another bouquet
always, with Baudelaire, in search of the New.

Eventually, I quit my job at the UN, left Egypt and decided to make the US my home in hopes of setting free the 3 book manuscripts that were, now, fluttering wildly against the bars of my ribcage (a book of poems had formed and another of essays, pieces of which I had also published in magazines and newspapers).

Within 6 months of my arriving in the US, my luck changed, dramatically. James Geary, former editor of Time magazine (Europe) and an aphorism aficionado, invited me to submit to his encyclopedia of The World's Great Aphorists alongside giants like Confucius, Voltaire, Twain, Shakespeare, and Emily Dickinson! I could hardly believe my good fortune when, shortly after, my first book ("Signposts") was accepted for publication, some 10 years ago.

Since then, I've gone on to publish 5 more books (with 5 different publishers) including a forthcoming collection of aphorisms, Where Epics Fail, due this year from Unbound (UK) in collaboration with Penguin Random House. While the rewards have been deep and abiding—participating in international festivals, reaching students and readers in far-flung corners of the world, award nominations—they've, largely, not been financial.

With the exception of very few big name publishers, with bottomless purses for marketing, authors are increasingly relied upon to get the word out pre/during/after book publication (through social media, book signings, word of mouth). It can be faintly exhausting for a wallflower. But, such is the irony of being a writer, or a private type in a public profession.

Which is why, finally, getting a book out into the world can feel like (to borrow an old-fashioned, somewhat machismo expression from my parent's generation) like marrying off one of your daughters. Proud papa can earn some hard-won relaxation, and not have to worry as much about her welfare... Unless of course, said daughter (the difficult to marry one, who took a decade to find a suitable suitor) should return home.

This is how I felt, earlier this morning, when I learned a book of mine was no longer available for sale. Or, if I might be permitted a mixed metaphor, it seemed like I was receiving a 'break-up' letter when I checked my mail to find a note from the publisher of my first book ('Signposts') lnotifying me that she was out of the book selling business and my book, along with many others, would no longer be available through her!

So, I've spend the better portion of this morning in something of a minor panic, reaching out to nearly 100 contacts in the literary/publishing world to explore my options for this, now, homeless book. Do I take back my divorced offspring, as some friends suggested, and try to self-publish her in these trying times for the publishing industry. It's an option, sure, and my ever-resourceful wife (@dianarpo) seems up for it. But, I simply don't have the heart or brain-space or oomph to go through all that—especially, with a new book out in a few months, requiring me to conserve my finite energy.

Mercifully, I don't have to consider this option just yet, as I've already heard back from a couple of independent publishers who are interested in reprinting it. (A minor miracle this, I’m told, considering others authors warned me that despite receiving glowing reviews and many awards, they've not had luck reprinting their work, for decades!) So, I'm counting my blessings and breathing easier, now. I'm also turning to a quote by Roman playwright, Terence, for sustenance: Books, too, have their destinies

What will be, will be and who knows, perhaps, this temporary setback will result in a bigger, better opportunity!