An Introduction by Henry Milner
Robert Bockstael, Willow’s Run. Ottawa: Pender Lake Press, 2022. 404 pages.
I have recently read Willow’s Run, a murder mystery novel by Robert Bockstael. Robert is a retired Canadian actor who has appeared in many plays, including several by Arthur Milner. He is best known to Canadians for the character of Corporal Brian Fletcher that he played in 39 episodes of the long-running television series North of 60, set in the Northwest Territories in the 1990s.
What makes this book especially interesting for me, as someone who has had some experience trying to get attention for books I have written, is how Robert has gone about publicizing and distributing it. As he put it, “Not a process for the faint of heart! Almost two years of my life. I believe I am close to breaking even on my initial investment. But it has been rewarding in so many other ways.”
I have written a number of mainly academic books and know something about efforts to bring them to potential readers’ attention. But the academy provides a network in the form of conferences, seminars and guest lectures unavailable to an independent writer like Robert. Writers will tell you of the endless struggle to get attention for their books. What follows is Robert’s vivid account of his fascinating strategy to promote and sell Willow’s Run.
But first, the book itself. Its central character is Alcima (the Willow) Willoughby, whom we meet in Fall River, a small town in upstate New York, where she is on the run from her sadistic husband in his million-dollar motor home.
She had been leading the U.S. volleyball team toward another gold at the Beijing Olympics when she was sidelined by a crippling injury. Alcima’s life then spiralled into addiction and an abusive marriage to the villain of the story, whom she refers to as Dickweed. He instructed the Swiss surgeon that Alcima’s knee should remain forever vulnerable to cruel ministrations at his pleasure. He also took complete control of Alcima’s life to benefit financially from her humiliation.
At the start of the book we find the six-foot-six-inch former Olympic volleyball star stuck in Fall River during a week of violent rainstorms after her husband’s huge RV in which she ran off had become unbalanced and overturned. Hunger forces Alcima to venture out from the abandoned campground where she is holed up. She meets a local librarian, Booker Thompson, who is attracted by Alcima’s fearless nature and offbeat humour, provides shelter on his secluded island, and enlists a few of his close friends to help her hide from her vicious pursuer. Booker is deeply scarred from a hit-and-run that killed his wife and son. Alcima succeeds in drawing him out of his depression, if perhaps only temporarily.
The library and nearby movie theatre and bank turn out to be home to something even more terrifying than her husband. The theatre’s owner, Don Anderson, disappears. A light goes on in the library after it has been locked for the night, and there are unexplained noises on the stairs after hours and signs that someone has been inside the sealed Local History Room. We soon meet the usher, a sadistic serial killer/voyeur – one who enjoys the thought of poisoned “rats twitching and bleeding and dying of thirst.” Alcima is drawn into a subterranean world revealing long-buried secrets that shed light on the unexplained happenings.
Alcima, despite being so formidable, has the trick knee that ended her athletic career. Though Dickweed is present only at the end of the story, he is a dangerous background presence throughout. We learn of his beating a dog to death and dismembering it. In their final confrontation, Dickweed “joyfully” smashes her in the knee – except he’s hit the wrong knee, Alcima smashes his nose, and he’s taken into custody.
Thus, Alcima gets the last laugh and can now renew life on her terms. So the book ends with her sadly leaving Fall River – and Booker – and making her way across the water to Canada. She is free of her husband and that life forever.
The structure, as Robert put it in our conversation, is the epic thriller, one in which the author introduces numerous characters one by one and eventually weaves them together at a midpoint in the narrative from where they move forward toward what is usually a big, final “shootout.” Subplots and tertiary characters breathe life and depth into a setting.
The characters in Willow’s Run are well drawn, and Alcima is a memorable creation. Once it gets going the story is engaging, though it could have benefited from the elimination of a few minor characters as well as the subplot around the bloodthirsty usher.
— Henry Milner
A book nine years in the making
by Robert Bockstael
Willow’s Run was nine years in the making, from the time I first put pen to paper until the time my first copy arrived in the mail for my approval. There are several reasons why the process was so protracted. First among them was that we have a special-needs son living at home with us. Henry requires almost constant care and assistance with day-to-day life.
When I was 49 years old, I retired from acting, mainly because the good roles for men of my age and type had dwindled and the scripts were becoming increasingly trite. My wife Catherine was working full-time as an elementary school teacher, and I became a stay-at-home dad. We lived quite remotely in a house on a lake 30 kilometres south of Parry Sound, Ontario, six kilometres into the bush on a summer-only road. Our Henry was being bused to school in a nearby town.
Writing, rewriting and more rewriting
Soon enough I found myself looking for some daytime work, and I landed a part-time job with the local library system. After six months, I was encouraged to take the required certifications as a library manager. So at 49, I went back to school for the accelerated 18-month course with the Southern Ontario Library Services and became manager of a small rural branch. At the same time, working downtown at the Parry Sound Public Library, I found out that there was something called NANOWRIMO, the national novel writing month held every November. Intrigued, I read all about it. I did not participate but it piqued my curiosity, and I read every book I could get my hands on about writing – as a librarian, I had access to a lot of them.
It fascinated me. As a lifelong avid reader of fiction, I found the idea of writing a novel exciting. I had always published short stories. I had also written a television series and had had a two-year development deal with Global Television just a year earlier. I decided to write a novel of my own.
I converted a small outbuilding overlooking the lake into a spartan office and embarked on what turned out to be a nine-year journey. Using only ballpoint pens that I had managed to scrounge, I wrote longhand in elementary school–style multicoloured Hilroy exercise books which I bought at a going-out-of-business sale for a dollar. A thousand words a day, seven days a week, by candlelight. No radio, no computer, no internet. Even on the day of my father’s funeral. That discipline saw me through and when I came to The End, I put the manuscript away for eight weeks and treated myself to a two-week trip driving through Spain with an old friend.
As the years rolled by, I would redraft the script for several months a year, while getting on with life, taking care of Henry, cooking all the family meals and maintaining our home and vehicles. Eventually, we moved back to Ottawa so that Henry could have more opportunities for further education and employment and we would be closer to family and friends. I taught acting and continued to attack my manuscript with energy and enthusiasm, while also taking extended trips to southern Europe with my family.
During that time, I painstakingly selected a list of 73 literary agents from around the world (out of many hundreds) who indicated they were actively seeking material in my genre. I spent much of the year submitting queries to them in hopes of securing one who would champion my book to publishers, while continuing to polish the manuscript. I wrote short stories for publication to give myself some added credibility with potential agents and publishers.
Only one agent got back to me: not interested. From the remaining 72, radio silence. I decided I wouldn’t involve myself with people who treat writers so ungraciously.
The self-publishing adventure
Searching for an alternative, I stumbled upon The Global Indie Author: A Guide to the World of Self-publishing by M.A. Demers. This was to be my bible for the next few years. I would become my own publisher, and follow a publishing strategy for Willow’s Run as if I were an author with one of the big publishers.
I secured a developmental/substantive editor, Kevin Burns, a writer, editor and producer who has seen some 300 books to publication. He provided a helicopter view of the book. After incorporating his notes, I submitted another draft. He took another pass, then said it was time to hire a line/copy editor. Through a combination of circumstance and good luck, I ended up hiring and working with Tim Wynne-Jones, award-winning author and editor. It was a fantastic experience. Together, we brought Willow’s Run to near-completion.
After nearly a year of effort – most of the COVID lockdown – I managed to contract award-winning cover and interior designer Lance Buckley. I created a publishing company called Pender Lake Press. My niece Kessya, an artist, designed a colophon for the spine of the book. I secured ISBN numbers and looked into worldwide distribution through numerous channels. I learned about print on demand.
Once the book was ready, I decided to test it out with a limited release of the ebook on Amazon. My sister-in-law Sarah was the first to download it, and she promptly called me and told me to take it off the market. She volunteered to go through the manuscript – it’s what she does for the Law Society. She discovered 651 errors. Then, my wife Catherine went through the book and gave me 100 pages of insightful notes.
My designer provided me with designs for all versions and formats – large-print hardcover, hardcover, paperback, ebook and audiobook. My years directing theatre and working closely with designers of all kinds paid off. I spent an awful lot of time and money hiring a recording studio to narrate the book as an audiobook.
As the book was released worldwide on all platforms and in all formats, I informed hundreds of friends and colleagues on my email list, using an email personalized for each of them, including a request that they review it online. I reached out to newspapers across the country, then the community papers around Ottawa. I used my reputation as an actor to contact podcasters around the world who would want to interview me because of my on-camera work, particularly for the popular Canadian TV series North of 60. I ended up doing quite a few podcasts (though I don’t know how effective they were as sales tools).
I approached some local bookstores and some in other parts of Ontario but mostly they were not interested in self-published authors. The financial return was nonexistent. Using my reputation as a voice actor I approached organizers of conventions and events held around Ontario for comic book and cartoon fans and was invited to some as a special guest, where I signed autographs, talked to fans and promoted the book, selling a fair number. One was in Deep River, Ontario, which also provided accommodation and expenses. I have sold many books there over the years.
The Deep River Public Library invited me to come back and give a talk. They have a budget to bring writers in to speak and sign copies. It turns out that most libraries have access to money for such talks but are often unaware of it or too short-staffed to chase it down. I began approaching libraries with this specific thing in mind, and organized four library tours in Ontario. The appearance fee was significant enough to make it worthwhile and the book sales were brisk. I was invited to mainly small rural libraries whose book clubs were eager to read and support Canadian writers. Many libraries cried poor, unaware of or unable to secure grant money, so I charged them only gas money, hoping book sales would make up for my other expenses.
Organizing the library tours was a long process. I created a glossy flyer with information about my book, including reviews, and emailed it to all the libraries within a reasonable radius of home. I made it clear that I was available for personal appearances. As libraries expressed interest, we negotiated dates, times and terms and eventually, after lining up five or six, I would set out, a trunk full of books, two large poster placards on stands, custom bookmarks, some 8×10 photos (some folks want an autographed picture when you’re an actor) and a cooler full of food and drink to keep costs down. It was an enjoyable process at first, but living like a travelling salesman grew tiring, especially when the turnouts were very low.
Getting into libraries
I came upon an online article by an American writer who, tired of the sparse results of trying to market his book in similar ways to mine, decided to get his book into as many libraries as he could. While the article was a sales pitch for his book, it was actually a contact list of libraries, librarians and strategies he’d compiled.
Great idea. Get my book into libraries. After all, the bulk of the action takes place in a library and I worked as a librarian – what a pitch!
At that time, I had a discussion with my friend Arthur Milner, the Canadian playwright, who told me all about the Public Lending Right Commission that operated under the Canada Council for the Arts. Once enrolled in the program you are eligible for annual remuneration, with the amount depending on how many libraries carry your book. With my background in libraries and my knowledge of how they work, particularly the pecking order within smaller branches, I set myself to the task.
I created an email that was general enough but left room for a more personal approach to each of almost 1,200 libraries. I then updated my sell sheet to include all of the pertinent information they would require to order my book. I had to ensure that I was in the catalogues of the book brokers who deal with Canadian libraries. They charge a fee or, more commonly, take a commission, but it’s a way of getting onto the shelf, since librarians order from these catalogues.
Knowing that librarians are very wary of opening attachments, particularly associated with any unsolicited mail, all of my information was included in the body of the email. I referred them to my website for additional information. I mentioned my career in show business because in rural parts of Canada many people still remember North of 60, which is still on the air.
Next came the daunting task of assembling the master list of every library in English-speaking Canada. I went province by province alphabetically. City by city. Town by town. Village by village. For a library system with multiple branches like the 33 branches of the Ottawa Public Library, I approached each branch librarian individually. Sadly, that strategy was unsuccessful with the Ottawa Public Library, as it was with some of the other larger systems. They tend to have their own collection methods, often excluding self-published books altogether.
There are back doors though. A patron can fill out a formal request form for a book, and such requests are dealt with at a meeting of the collection staff. The other way is also uncertain but worked for me. I got Willow’s Run on the shelf at the Ottawa Public Library by donating a copy to my home branch. There is a form to fill out for that as well, and it may get into the system depending on that library’s criteria. I was determined to get the book onto the shelf and contacted everyone I knew with a library card, encouraging them to fill out the request forms for the library to purchase my book. I also sent notifications to the libraries every time I got a positive review from a source that the library system might regard as credible: CBC Radio, Winnipeg Free Press and a few others.
I didn’t have to go through that much work soliciting the individual libraries in smaller communities. Some responded right away that they were purchasing the book and asked me if I could come and speak to their patrons. Most, however, did not respond at all. I checked and rechecked to see if those libraries ever acquired the book; hundreds never did.
I spent months sending out emails. The most time-consuming part of the process was locating the contact information of the people to send my package of information to instead of sending it just to the library. Contact information is closely guarded by the larger library systems but often readily available for the smaller systems. My experience was that only about one in 25 libraries has the librarian’s name or the collection staff’s names on its website. I next searched the libraries’ Facebook pages. But most names weren’t on the Facebook page, so I searched for local newspaper articles online about the local library and their staff, or on the municipal or township page where they would often have a drop-down menu that would include information about the library. I even checked the minutes of their board meetings (which are public) for the names of the librarians.
I averaged 10 to 15 minutes per library and that included gathering the information, checking that everything was correct and up to date, putting the email together including something personal, and sending it off. Many dozens had changed their email address so the email would bounce back, and I would have to search again to find a current one.
And then there were those emails that simply bounced back no matter what and I never found a working address, usually because the library had closed. Others sent me a quick reply saying that they never accepted unsolicited materials. A few – and I’ll specifically mention Prince Edward Island – were downright rude about it! (When I was in PEI at the family cottage, I attempted to donate one of my books to a major library branch. The correct forms were accompanied by reviews, my sell sheet and a book. All i’s were dotted and t’s were crossed. When I went to hand it in, I got an eye roll from the person I was dealing with, who said, “We are not interested in self-published books.” Their loss.)
In contrast, last I checked, all five copies of Willow’s Run at the Ottawa Public Library (including the audiobook and ebook) were out on loan, and there was an eight-week wait.
Sending out 1,200 individually addressed and painstakingly researched emails took a great deal of time and effort. Sales had slumped and I had run out of options. I had reached the point where I was piggybacking with a friend’s coffee business, hawking my book at outdoor summer markets on weekends, taking a small corner of his table: “Coffee and a novel!” Sales were not brisk, but they were steady, and I did meet some interesting people.
I didn’t have a Kirkus review at that time and my friend asked me why not. It was too expensive. Six hundred dollars and they don’t guarantee a positive review. I also knew that the bulk of their report would be a retelling of the story. Only the final line would be a usable review – and then only if it was positive. When some money came in by way of a small inheritance, I pursued the Kirkus review. I’m glad I did. Not only was it positive, but it was featured in their monthly magazine. I then pursued a Writer’s Digest review. I was overwhelmed by how supportive and positive that review was. I actually received an Honorable Mention in the category of Best Mainstream/Literary Fiction for that year.
So, I created a new, up-to-date sell sheet and a new email, and I sent it to the nearly 1,200 Canadian libraries all over again. Of course, this time it was a lot easier, having all the contact information in my files. More copies of Willow’s Run were purchased, although I only discovered how many the following year when I received a surprisingly large cheque from Public Lending Right. It covered my investment in both the Kirkus and Writer’s Digest reviews. I had broken even.
And I was in almost one hundred libraries across Canada.
Then, I spent a month sending a slightly altered package to all of the libraries in New York state – more than 800 at last count. I made a few sales and was invited to Madrid, New York, to give an author talk. It was the best received to date, very well compensated both by the library and by book sales.
In the end, I was compensated for the money I spent, though of course not for the time. But it was a real learning experience, and I don’t regret the time and effort. And I will be much better prepared when I embark on my next book.
