I wrote the following a few days ago and then hit a wall of poor atmospherics that killed the mobile signal. I’ll post it now and update after the weekend…

It is Wednesday and life is good. The sun is shining, the sea and wind playful. I sit outside my tent on the stoop of the cottage waiting for the first walkers to arrive. Before ten in the morning and after five in the evening, it is rare to see anyone. Even then, it is not unusual to be alone except for the occasional holidaying couple strolling by between the hours of eleven and two. Every now and then, I find myself enjoying the isolation too much and must remind myself that without people, Dreamwords is nothing.

Thankfully, I am not a hermit. I do love meeting people and particularly enjoy seeing their reaction to the concept behind the Honesty Edition. I have been here sixteen days now and begin to wonder how many readers might have finished the book. Although I have a figure of six weeks in my plan as a reasonable expectation, I know from previous drops that the occasional reader rips through the book in hours. Might there be a cheque or two in the box in Glasgow? I am tempted to take a day off to go and look, but I must be patient. To find it empty would tell me nothing and yet fill me with negative thoughts. No, I must concentrate on what I am doing, enjoy the craziness of it, the fabulous people I meet. I am constantly offered money and although on the rare occasion I relent to avoid insult, I seldom accept.
As an adjunct to the experiment, I left a couple of small displays high on the path from Lochranza. I am told by others that someone has left a payment on the ground beside one of them. It has now been there three days and I expect it will still be there when I climb over the hill tomorrow evening. Knowing that puts a smile on my face.

I now have a full week behind me and around 60 books have been given to potential readers. When I stuck my finger in the air and guessed that I might get 100 per week in the height of summer, I was not wide of the mark (May is early in the season and usually quiet). This stage in the project is all about gathering data points in the hope of understanding the best way to distribute the full compliment of 10,000.

The question remains: How many will pay? That will take a while longer. In my early research, I found that it took some people 6 weeks to get round to reading and finishing the book and others a few days, having read it in one sitting. Others never got back at all and I had to assume that it was not to their taste.

With a dozen copies gone over a week ago (while the recipients were on a walking holiday) and a handful yesterday, I will continue doing this for a while before drawing any conclusions.

I can say that – almost without exception – every person I talked to is both astonished and extremely enthusiastic about the idea and loves the fact that they tripped over such a thing in the middle of nowhere.

Surreal but brilliant.

I am at Laggan Cottage on the Isle of Arran, the inspiration for Creggan in Dreamwords. Having done the random dump-and-run experiments in Glencoe and Edinburgh, I now want to find out how the hit-rate changes if I try to skew the distribution dice in the book’s favour.

One of the reasons I picked this area for the novel’s setting was its tranquil isolation. Footfall is almost non-existent. Still, over a summer week, it’s reasonable to think that I might shift 100 books. By pitching my tent directly outside the cottage and placing the display just off the path, most walkers will see them and I am close enough to strike a conversation. I usually do this anyway so it’s perfectly natural. Most of them are mature and many are cultured. Combine this with the fact that they have a shared and (hopefully) pleasant memory of the place and it is hard to think of a better demographic.

I doubt I’ll snag an army of readers, but what I learn here for the rest of the distribution, could be invaluable.

And anyway, I can work at the same time and it’s hard to think of a better place to be.

Three days ago, as I lay on the grass writing, dolphins fished a few yards off-shore – them doing their thing, me doing mine. Bliss!

Getting out to Spain was not easy. Iceland spoke. Nevertheless, it eventually happened and it was great seeing my brother, Jim and his wife, Sandra. They were both instrumental in making the Honesty Edition happen.

Payments for the Edinburgh, Lanark and Glencoe experiments still trickle in and it looks as though I have reached the minimum threshold for paying back my costs – assuming I distribute the complete 10K books in the same manner. This is a milestone as for all I knew, no-one would have paid. I have another thing I want to try, partially because I think it will bring results, but also because I will be able to continue writing and have fun all at the same time. A triple win.

I start in the morning and will post more details in a couple of days. Stay tuned.

Yesterday was the best of days and one of the toughest. I dragged myself from bed with a burning throat and a dose of self-pity. Maybe, I thought, I should forget it. Edinburgh would still be there when I came back from Spain. True, but I have these half-formed ideas that need tested. My plan for the city was to put a display on the summit of Arthur’s Seat – a lovely hill within easy walking distance of the centre and castle. I wanted to find out if a number of small presentations distributed in an area was effective without any one of them dominating the landscape and calling undue attention to itself. I also liked the idea of concentrating on one locale and Edinburgh ticked so many boxes that I needed to get out there and do it.

Carrying over a hundred books on your back and climbing a hill is not recommended therapy for a cold. Thankfully, as I trod the path along Salisbury crags, I spotted an opportunity. A beautiful patch of grass looked like it was made as a plinth for my books. Ten minutes later I continued the walk 50 books lighter and an hour beyond that, heart thumping, throat screaming for mercy, the second display was installed at the top of the hill.

Over the last couple of weeks, I found that, by talking to people and explaining what this was all about, more of them felt confident to take a copy in comparison to those who were left alone. On the one hand this is fabulous, because it reflects a respect for other people’s property. On the other, if I am to have multiple smaller exhibits, I cannot man them all at the same time. For this reason, I deliberately distanced myself from the books, remaining close to the summit for an hour or two only to get a feel for what happened next.

Over the next few hours, I climbed and re-climbed the hill until 2pm when my cold won out backed up by a little pragmatism. I had a three hour drive back to the west coast and had done what I’d set out to do. Sixty books were now on route to their new homes and I am satisfied that I have a working plan for my return from Spain.

Despite my determination to distance myself from the display for this part of the experiment, I was cornered by a group of girls from the Netherlands on the summit of Arthur’s Seat. It was such a pleasure talking with them that it made me realise that, where possible, I should find ways to engage even as I accept that it will not always be possible. I wondered that some people might see the presence of someone close to the books as a barrier to approaching the display. In our culture, the idea that I will not ask for money on the spot does not make sense. I felt that that was likely to be the case for many and I had to know the truth of it. Thankfully the truth is that a friendly chat makes more sense than keeping my distance – but only if it is obvious that I am not hovering in the role of a guard or salesman. It is a fine balance and one that I need to finesse.

I’m really looking forward to doing this again. Edinburgh is so beautiful and, since two thirds of Book Two is set there, it is sensible to make that city the focal point of my efforts.

Now, where is that Lemsip?

I was supposed to fly to Spain last Thursday to visit my brother, Jim, and his wife, Sandra. No surprises, I did not. My schedule has gone awry and I’ve now rebooked for next Friday – Iceland permitting. In the meantime, I’ve designed a small sticker to put on the front of the protective sleeve and ordered an initial run of 500. With luck, I’ll get them on Tuesday and on Wednesday and Thursday, start the next phase of the experiment. I really wanted an unbroken week but have no intention of missing the chance to see J&S. So, now it’s a two-day foray into the city and a break in the flow for five days. By the time I return, I should have a handle on what works and what does not. If so, I will start running hard to get the books out there searching for their readers. They do not know who they are any more than I do right now.

Had another four payments the other day and I must thank Mo for her thoughtful text:

“…Thank you for the book, the experience.. providing an oasis in the dark, corrupt desert that we can perceive 2 b in. Love light and laughter…”

I must apologise to my brother-in-law (another Jim)  for not recording him as the first to pay, even though he was. The Honesty Edition had to prompt payments from readers I had not met before I could start counting for real.

Thanks to everyone who has written, made an Honesty payment, ordered the book online or helped in a range of different ways to support this project.

I will explain what I’m doing next when the stickers arrive. Until then, go read a book.

It has been a week since the soft launch and I now gnaw my fingernails awaiting the jury. 250 copies are gone – most of them from the Pass of Glencoe.

With no manual to work from, I made a lot of assumptions in my plan. I split the distributed books into three approximate blocks depending on who might pick them up. A proportion will go to waste, as some people take simply because there is no barrier not to. The rest will roughly slot into avid and occasional readers.

An avid reader is likely to have a book on the go already and, with a busy life, may start Dreamwords up to a week after picking it up. The Honesty Edition would be an opportunistic acquisition and not a planned purchase. Two weeks, therefore, was my best guess for payments to start trickling in.

A keen or occasional reader with a busy lifestyle might take four to six weeks to start and then finish the book. I do not expect instant results.

As I mentioned in my last post, I was thrilled when payments started to appear less than 24 hours after the experiment began. Beyond these super-fast readers (and I am so grateful to them for such an unexpected early boost) I hope that a good proportion of the initial 250 books is now being enjoyed by future fans of the series. If I am not just being an idiot, another small wave of honesty payments will follow a week later.

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The first was Moira, who read the complete book within a day after she picked it up from the Clyde Valley at the launch…

“.. I was hooked… once I started reading… no house work… had 25 pages to go by the end of the night, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open… first thing the following morning the book was in my hands…”

Iain:  “…Thank you for a great book which I am half way through…. my wife and mum drove up the Glencoe pass… they came across your pile of books. My wife took one for me and my mum took one for herself. Glad to say we are both reading it and I will pass my copy on to a friend once I have finished. I really hope all goes well and that the people that picked it up are honest. I would love to see the next book and your trust in people rewarded… a lot more should come that way from the book my wife picked up on that day!”

Hugo (Blog Comment): “…Got a copy yesterday on the Pass of Glencoe. I paid the full price after reading the chapter 4. This book looks really good and I think I’ll spend the whole night reading it…”

And by text “… thanks for trust. Read in one sitting. Circulating to all friends. Very strange and evocative writing. Compulsive…”

Thanks to those above,  to those of you who paid anonymously and also to those who ordered a copy online.

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Do I expect everyone to like the book? Will everyone who likes it pay? Absolutely not.

I fully understand the risk I am taking and this is why I am pausing to learn the outcome of this first foray. There are so many subtleties involved that I need to act smart, not just fast. One thing is certain: Dreamwords Book One is reaching readers who are honest, willing and motivated enough to pay for the book on trust. Mad, yes. But, how mad?

Glencoe was great. Well, it was wet, but it was great too. All those hardy, windblown visitors – wow, I hope they were briefed on the weather.
Apart from shifting a shed-load of books, it was fascinating to see the dynamics of the project in play. Many people read and reread the sign, apparently having difficulty parsing what they were seeing and what made sense within the parameters of the world we’re used to.

Before starting this, friends and family told me that hordes of people would scoop armfuls of books and run for it. That is not what happened. Once they ‘got it’ people were respectful, most taking one each or perhaps another for a friend. On occasion, a bus driver would take a few on behalf of his passengers. From my perspective, this is a greater risk because a book may be put into someone’s hands without them having first (and internally) agreed to the honesty condition. That said, it is a risk I am willing to take.
At one point, a young girl picked up a handful, brought them to the car and her mother took one and sent her back to replace the rest. On another occasion, a young adult took a book, reconsidered (perhaps it was not for him or his girlfriend had one in the car already) and he then took a long walk back to the pile to replace it. That is the sort of behaviour that dominated the two days I spent there. He could have taken it and dumped it in a bin later, but no. That is cool.
Thank you all and thank you to Scott and The National Trust For Scotland for tolerating my presence. The Glencoe video is to the left at dreamwords.com

The past two weeks have been hectic. I took delivery of 10,000 books on the 24th and immediately put them into storage. Up until that point, with no experience in the printing and publishing world, the risk of making a fatal mistake was huge. Until I saw the books, held them in my hands and checked them thoroughly, I could not spend another penny. My budget is embarrassingly tight and I remain homeless until this plays out one way or the other.
I took a giant risk by printing in Asia and it paid off. In time, I will put all the details into an easy pack for anyone who wishes to understand the route I took and perhaps use the same company to print their own.
I now needed a van. Everything I do is on a shoestring and so it took almost a week of research, going to a real-world car auction and hundreds of visits to eBay and gumtree. I now have a little Peugeot Partner MPV – a sort of car/van hybrid. My plan is to load up with a thousand books or so and tour the country, sleeping in the cab or in my tent depending on where I am.
On Easter Sunday, I took my first experimental step into the public arena by going to a car boot sale in Crossford, Lanark. After a 5 am rise, I drove under cloudy skies to the site, praying that the weather would obey the forecast. It did not. Instead of eight hours of bright and breezy trading, I had a little over two and a half of muddy drizzle that soon became a downpour. Still, it was interesting and, I might even say, enjoyable. It will take a couple of weeks before I get an idea of how successful the trip was but I feel good about it. Easter Monday was wet; otherwise I would have jumped at the chance of going again.
The upside to being trapped indoors was that I managed to finish the new Dreamwords website, get the eBook version of Book One on the Amazon Kindle and, through Smashwords, get it onto the iPAD for its launch day, with Sony, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and others on the conveyor belt.
Now I watch the weather again. The forecast tells me that The Highlands will be clear tomorrow. If that looks to be true in the dark hours then I will rise stupidly early and drive North. I have my sights set on the Pass of Glencoe as a starting point. It’s the wrong time of year – there will be no tourists, but that’s OK. This is toe-dipping time. I need to get an idea of how many books – in absolute and percentage terms – will make it to honest readers who appreciate the value of the story.
One thing I forgot to say: The money is beginning to trickle in. It’s a trickle but it demonstrates what I thought to be true. There are honest people out there and Dreamwords can find them. Now all I need is a few thousand to find their true home before I run out of money. That can only happen when I’ve released thousands into the wild. I need a break in the weather and, with luck, clear skies will come to The Highlands tomorrow.

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For the last eight months I have been working quietly on a project born from a simple idea:

If a writer has more to fear from obscurity than theft in the world of bits, why is that not true in the physical world too?

This is an experiment in honesty and in publishing. As large corporations fight over the shifting business of art and entertainment, artists look on and wonder what it means for their work. DRM is bad – DRM is vital. Big Business is evil -  Big Business will save us from ourselves.

I do not know how things will develop. No-one does. But I do believe that musicians and writers, music lovers and readers, need to take an active role in shaping their future. A compelling argument has it that publishers need to trust their readers. I want this to be true. But when your life and work is at risk, when so much is at stake beyond the individual, we are short on real facts and people are terrified to let go.

I’ve decided to take a stand.

I love the thought of trusting people; it plays to my sense of optimism and my observation that most people are flawed but good. While it’s nice to play with ideas, it’s another thing to take a crazy notion and to follow it through to the world of consequences. Common sense tells us to lock our doors, but if keeping a thousand books out of the hands of thieves costs the price of five thousand books, how does that make sense for the author?

And so The Honesty Edition is born.

In the next few weeks, I will take £80,000 (approx $120K) worth of stock – trade paperbacks specifically designed for the task – put them on the streets of towns and cities around the country, walk away and trust that enough people will pay for them to successfully launch the next in the series.

I genuinely have no idea what is about to happen. I have borrowed, sold shares in my work and battered my credit card to destruction. Everything I have and have not is now on the line.

If you want to know more, visit my site at dreamwords.com and sign up for the newsletter. I will try to post here regularly but occasional insights and significant results will have a preferred route to the newsletter.

Watch this space.

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