How many people does it take to make a book? [insert punchline]
Writing
Author: The primary person responsible for writing the book.
Co-authors: Sometimes, books are written by multiple authors.
Ghostwriter: Often works behind the scenes, providing their writing skills to individuals who have an idea, story, or knowledge but lack the time, expertise, or ability to write the material themselves.
Researcher: Culls together all the information or releases that are needed.
Indexer: A surprisingly difficult job.
Publishing
Literary Agent: Helps the author find a publisher and negotiate contracts.
Editor: Works with the author to improve the manuscript, including:
Developmental editor - Focus is on the big-picture elements of the work, such as the narrative arc, character development, pacing, and organization.
Copy editor - Checks grammar, punctuation, and consistency.
Proofreader - Reviews the final manuscript for any remaining errors.
Sensitivity editor - Addresses the potential issues related to cultural sensitivity, representation, and inclusivity.
Product Coordinator: Oversees the entire publication process and services the book to Amazon or other publishers
Designer: Designs the book cover.
Photographer: For the headshot.
Typesetter: Or interior designer.
Printer: Prints the physical copies of the book.
Marketing
Marketing Manager: Creates and oversees the marketing strategy. Including keywords and categories.
Publicist: Promotes the book through media outlets, organizes book tours, and arranges interviews.
Social Media Manager: Handles social media promotion and paid advertising.
Sales Team: Works on getting the book into bookstores, libraries, and online platforms.
Distributor: Handles the logistics of getting the book to various retailers.
Additional Roles
Beta Readers: Provide feedback on the manuscript before publication.
Reviewers: Write reviews that can be used for promotional purposes.
Website Designer and/or Coder: Designs and codes your website.
Event Coordinator: Makes sure that PA system works, collects email addresses, and makes sure you have water when it’s time to read.
Legal: So you have someone to ask about getting sued.
Audiobook Producer / Narrator: Works with ACX or others to make the audiobook.
Translator: Knows more languages than you.
Depending on the size of the publishing house and the book's scope, some of these roles might be combined. Self-publishing authors might take on many of these roles themselves or hire freelancers to assist with specific tasks.
So, that’s the bad news. You can’t do it yourself. Here’s the good news. All of these people want you to succeed. They are your people and they will help you sell your book. Each one of these skilled freelancers has a mother, father, sister, brother, friends, aunts, uncles, and cousins that they can talk to about the book. They are your street team. They will post on social media and add to your email list. They are your fans and influencers. All you have to do is ask. I know it’s hard, but no one knows what you want. You have to communicate with them and maybe even provide the words or posts for them. Be proud of your book. You did a good job!
Based on a true story
Digital Daughter
By
Liz Dubelman
A few years ago, pre-Covid, two things happened to me. First, I was broke and second, I became really interested in oldsters. I found myself at UCLA, taking in “Grey Matters,” a free lecture series that was all about keeping the minds of the elderly sharp. During this time, my middle-aged friends would grumble about having to supply tech support for their aging parents. It struck me: why not bridge the gap and provide support for both generations? Over time, two things became crystal clear. I needed a steady gig, and I craved meaningful conversations with older adults.
That’s how I became a Digital Daughter. I became the tech guru for these old folks. Not just for their computers but for everything with a plug or a battery. Cell phones, car systems, you name it. Their adult children would beg for my help with their parents. For me, it was a welcome escape from the daily grind. No emotional baggage, just the joy of listening to their stories. As we sifted through their contacts and decluttered their devices, they'd share memories about treasured paintings bought with late spouses or sentimental photos on outdated gadgets. Sometimes, after multiple sessions, these seniors would want to dive into new ventures with their newfound tech skills—writing memoirs, creating videos, and even designing software. It was a joy to see them embrace technology.
It wasn’t easy. My clients struggled with the basics. The voicemail icon—a small cassette tape—confounded them. The icon for sending items, a square with a line, seemed meaningless. It hit me how much we take for granted in terms of icon recognition.
The morning was best for tutoring. My seniors got tired, flat-out exhausted. We did two hours, never more, always in the morning. They took things very literally because they weren’t used to tech talk. The word “click” was tricky. Double-clicking was troublesome. “How much time,” they would ask, “do you leave between the first click and the second?”
Deep breath, I’d say, “It’s like four new letters have been added to the alphabet. You don’t need to use them – the Hawaiian alphabet gets by with 13 – but you need to know them because everyone else does. So let’s stick with this and see where it goes.”
One day I got a call from Jane (not her real name), asking me about her Netflix screen. She couldn’t watch what she wanted. I couldn’t understand her, so I asked for a picture. She couldn’t send one. I said, “Restart everything.”
I had just come back from the gym, showered, and saw three messages from her when I got out. I called back. “What’s up?”
She said, “Where were you?”
“I was in the shower.”
She said, “You take the longest showers.” I don’t, but okay. She was frustrated but had an insight. She remembered I’d fixed this before. We solved it. She had to tell me immediately, afraid of forgetting. Alleviating that fear of forgetting enriched her life more than solving the problem.
Sarah wanted to learn line dancing. Intimidated by advanced dancers in class, we tried YouTube tutorials. She said she was awkward and uncomfortable alone in a room, staring at a screen. We looked into local senior centers with classes. Although there were many social dancing classes available, she had a vehement objection to joining any of them. She preferred line dancing over social dancing. She told me after losing her husband, dancing with someone else was too intimate. That confession helped us narrow down the perfect line-dancing experience for her.
Another client, a retired urologist, wanted to make a video about older men and sex—not for money, just to help. He had great ideas but needed guidance. He was genuine, sweet, never crude. He believed in maintaining intimate relationships, emphasizing kindness. “If you want a better sex life, be nice. Compliment your mate, bring her flowers, gifts.” He valued nonverbal communication, teaching people how to communicate through touching or tapping. One tap meant I like that. Two taps meant don’t do that again.
Do you want to know the question most asked by my clients? The top question from older folks is how to call an Uber. Not just for convenience but for safety. “If I’m stuck, how do I get home?” We practiced calling Uber, which wasn’t easy because we had to keep cancelling to avoid charges. They needed Uber tutorials, a safe space to practice. They worried about finding their driver in a crowd. I’d show them how to call the driver. I took screenshots for them, but they remained baffled. They needed 5f a place to practice. I never did figure that one out.
I felt grateful to be part of their lives. Making new connections after so many losses was special. It was an honor. The more you do it, the better you get. It’s not the thing itself but working your brain like a muscle. Remembering, Googling, not just the how but the question to ask. The woman with the Netflix screen didn’t know the question she was asking.
The emotional rollercoaster of my Digital Daughter clients often manifested in physical ways. I witnessed their faces contort with worry lines, their hands tremble with anxiety, and their bodies tense with the weight of their fears. Some had trouble sleeping, their restless nights evident in the dark circles under their eyes. Others experienced physical ailments like headaches and stomachaches, a direct result of the stress they carried.
Yet, amidst the heaviness, there were moments of joy and relief. As we navigated the intricacies of technology together, I saw their eyes light up with newfound understanding and accomplishment. Their smiles broke through the clouds of uncertainty, bringing a sense of pride and satisfaction. It was in these moments that I felt a deep sense of fulfillment, knowing that I had made a positive impact on their lives.
But alongside the joy, there was also sorrow. Many of my Digital Daughter clients were elderly, and as time passed, I found myself attending more and more funerals. Each loss weighed heavily on my heart, as I had developed genuine connections with these individuals. Their passing reminded me of the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing every moment.
So, when I think about my Digital Daughter clients, my emotions are a mix of happiness and sadness. I am grateful for the opportunity to be there for them, to guide them through their technological fears, and to witness their growth. Yet, I mourn the losses and the void left behind by those who have departed. It is a bittersweet reminder of the preciousness of life and the impact we can have on one another, even in the digital realm.
I can relate to the seniors and their struggles with technology in this article . . . thank you for the sensitive insight and understanding.
Lovely Liz. I remember you telling us about this. It's a great concept.