[Reprinted from Neo-Opsis Science Fiction Magazine, #21, Spring, 2012.]
The basic problem in this new era of e-publishing is trying to identify the few gems among the avalanche of self-published tailings. One can, of course, wait for the recommendations of reviewers, but given the odds against successful prospecting, most reviewers won’t deign to even glance at a novel they know to be self-published. (We used to warn wannabe’s against the vanity press, but no one had any idea just how bad ‘vanity’ could get until the emergence of e-book self-publishing.) But to dismiss all self-published fiction out of hand is to miss that we’re in the midst of a revolution, and that the some of the brighter lights in SF have figured out the advantages of taking their fiction directly to consumers.
Take Lindsay Buroker’s Encrypted. I had never heard of Buroker before coming across Encrypted, but Buroker made it easy for me to find this odd little steampunk, fantasy romance amongst the 12,000 other titles in the Kobo SciFic/Fantasy catalog. First, although not quite strong enough for me to want to frame and mount on my wall, the cover caught my eye and stood out easily among the hundreds of amateurish efforts with which it competed. I’m pretty sure Buroker paid actual money for that cover (just as a publisher would have done), rather than settle for something by some neighbour’s cousin. Encrypted’s professional artwork contrasted sharply with the covers of most other self-published works, whose amateur illustration and lack of design helpfully identify them as the products of individuals who lack either professional standards or imagination; or worse, have such inflated egos they not only believe themselves brilliant authors, but professional-level cover artists as well.
Second, the one-word title was provocative, not just because it implies both a puzzle and potential conflict, but because it avoids allusions to any of the usual SF tropes. Weak writers often opt for titles like The Aliens from Planet ZXG393, or The Dark Wizard of The Lost Empire of Quzom, that instantly reveal their clichéd premises, and so effectively warn readers off. Where other titles allowed me to scroll past without even slowing down, the title and cover for Encrypted gave me pause.
Third, having paused to click on Encrypted’s thumbnail, the synopsis that appeared was both original and intriguing: “Professor Tikaya Komitopis isn’t a great beauty, a fearless warrior, or even someone who can walk and chew chicle at the same time, but her cryptography skills earn her wartime notoriety. When enemy marines show up at her family’s plantation, she expects the worst. But they’re not there to kill her. They need her to decode mysterious runes before their secrets destroy the world...” Here again, Encrypted stood out from other self-published works: I am constantly astounded at the number of author-supplied synopses that are self-aggrandizing rather than informative (“the greatest new SF novel ever--a must buy!”-- okay, but, what’s it about?); self-referential (“following the events in book #3, Chip decides it’s time to reveal all to Melissa”-- who, what?); ironically self-revealing (“book #15 in the Invasion Milwaukee series which I launched just two weeks ago” --you’re writing these how fast?); or, all too often, simply incoherent.
In contrast, Buroker demonstrated she could write by giving me a synopsis that was itself well written: concise; character-driven; informative, yet without any real spoilers; and with just an undercurrent of humor. My kind of read! Fourth, because I’m a cautious buyer and inherently suspicious of self-published work, even with a good cover, a good title, and a good synopsis, I still insisted on googling Lindsay Buroker before proceeding to purchase. A positive review by a well-known reviewer would have helped, but none of the dozens of favorable reviews that popped up were by anyone I recognized. Given the widespread pollution of sock puppet reviews (in which self-published authors take the further step of self-publishing multiple reviews of their own work under various pseudonyms), one simply cannot take online reviews or ‘reader’ ratings at face value. So, I went directly to Buroker’s own profile, and once again, she made it easy for me to say ‘yes’. As with my complaints about the online synopses of self-published vanity titles, the profiles and blogs of the talentless tend to be similarly self-aggrandizing, self-referential, ego-centric rants with little to offer beyond self-congratulatory marketing of their vanity titles. Buroker’s blog, by contrast, was thoughtful, well-written, wide-ranging, and above all, her profile made me laugh. That was all I needed: at $2.99, I could risk adding Buroker to the list of authors vying for a limited number of slots on my leisure reading schedule.
I’m glad I penciled Buroker in! Encrypted is a fine little novel, as good or better than anything out of the legacy publishing houses. Buroker’s world building is consistent and compelling; Encrypted’s protagonist is a satisfyingly strong female (but without the usual clichéd depictions of ‘strong’ in militaristic SF-- no Honor Harringtons here, thank you very much!); the action and conflict are thoughtfully motivated; the intrigue is satisfying; and the romance is nicely balanced against the SF elements, such that neither distracts overly from the other. Buroker deserves as wide an audience as word of mouth can bring her, and at $2.99, Encrypted is excellent value for the money. I ended up reading Encrypted on my phone while waiting to chauffeur the kids around, and it’s amazing how fast five minutes here and ten minutes there add up. If you don’t already own a Kindle, Kobo or similar, maybe try ebooks on your phone.
Buroker is not only a clear illustration of current trends in publishing, she demonstrates that it is indeed possible for talented new writers to distinguish themselves from the zombie armies of vanity self-publishing sufficiently for readers to find, enjoy, and reward their work. Encrypted is recommended; Buroker definitely a writer worth following.
I am reposting some of my reviews which were originally in print magazines or are no longer available online.]
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