I’ve often complained about the lack of good books about how the publishing industry really works. I don’t mean the shelves full of texts that tell you “don’t send your horror novel to Harlequin Romances” or “An agent can help negotiate a better deal.” I’m talking about a resource that breaks down publishing contracts and business manuvers into minute detail. Pat Walsh’s 78 Reasons Why Your Book May Never Be Published and 14 Reasons Why It Just Might is probably the best in regards to the mechanics of the industry.
I wish there was a publishing equivalent to Marc Ferrari’s Rock Star 101: A Rock Star’s Guide to Survival and Success in the Music Business. Marc Ferrari played in the 80’s metal band, Keel. He sold more than a million-and-a-half records, played with some of the biggest bands of the era, appeared in Wayne’s World, and now runs MasterSource, a company that provides music to Hollywood’s biggest films and television shows such as ER and Fight Club. He has also written for Metal Edge magazine and is a two-time recipient of the ASCAP Special Writer Award.
Published by Allworth Press, this informative book goes into incredible detail about how to set-up a band and prepare for life in the music industry. Ferrari explains royalties, synchronization income, mechanical income, partnership agreements, grand rights, licensing, and every other facet of the music business you can imagine.
Rock Star 101 should be required reading for anyone striving for a career in music. It’s also a damn good read if you’re just a fan interested in seeing what life is like for your favorite band.
Ferrari also offers some inspirational advice that is completely relevant to our own literary pursuits. He suggests using envy of other artists to fuel your own hard work. “There was a period in early ‘82 when I became depressed about the lack of progress in my career, and I began getting migraines,” he writes. “I knew what I wanted so badly, but I felt I wasn’t getting any closer to making that a reality. I was jealous of the success of some of the other bands that were my age… I just drove myself harder to try to match them.”
He also realizes that success does not come easy and requires total committment. Early in his career, his band moved from Boston to Los Angeles. But shortly thereafter, the band became homesick and returned to the East Coast. But Ferrari was unswayed in his determination. ”I had just uprooted my whole life, relocating to a strange city where I knew no one else,” he writes. “I had just taken the biggest leap of faith in my entire existence, placing all my belief and conviction in this new undertaking, not once entertaining the thought of returning to the East Coast. I had committed myself so entirely to this endeavor, not allowing the possibility of failure to enter the picture.” So often, aspiring authors tell me how badly they want publishing success but they’re not writing at this moment because work’s too busy, or the kids are in the middle of soccer season, or the grass needs mowing. But Ferrari’s lifestory is a testament to the kind of dedication and risk-taking that is necessary for success in any art form.
Marc Ferrari’s determination, business acumen, and writing skill all combine to make Rock Star 101 an educational and entertaining read.
A very interesting post. It’s also worth remembering why people come up with excuses. As in quantitative logic, where ‘if A, then B’ being true does not entail ‘if B, then A’ (the reverse) being true - the fact that ‘if you are a successful writer, then you will have applied total dedication’ does not mean that ‘if you apply total dedication, you will become a successful writer’….. there are many musicians who tried as hard as Marc Ferrari but will never have a book published explaining that it led nowhere… For me, total dedication to writing is a risk I’ve been prepared to take, and so far it’s paid off - but it is a risk, and I don’t look down on the busy-with-work people or the looking-after-kids people for not having the emotional or financial resources available to take that risk and probably come away with nothing…
That’s a great point. Just like you, I do not mean to sound like I look down my nose at people with jobs or other responsibilities. Hell, I’ve got a day-job.
It’s just that I think we all as writers have to make a choice and then accept the consequences. I’ve kept a day-job, so I have to be prepared to deal with the limitations on my writing time. I also have to be prepared to deal with the possible limitations of my career.
Some folks can achieve wild success while maintaining other professional pursuits. John Grisham wrote The Firm at four in the morning before going into the law office. It can happen.
But often what you encounter are people who say they want to write so desperately but there’s this, and there’s that, and there’s this other reason why they can’t. And it boils down to what John Dufresne writes in The Lie That Tells the Truth. If all these obstacles can’t be overcome, then maybe you shouldn’t be trying to write.
So in the end, my point was to admire Ferrari’s dedication and committment in going all-in, moving across the country, and not worrying about risk or backup plans or anything like that.
It’s not the right choice for everyone, but it’s an admirable endeavor for those people who do totally immerse themselves in pursuit of their goals.
And, as you point out, the unfortunate reality is that applying total dedication is no guarantee of success either. That’s the damnable quandry of the whole thing.
Yes, I know what you mean - sorry if I sounded like I was implying you were looking down on anyone… My feeling is that while it’s true that you’ve got to give some things your all, too many people just repeat mantras about persistence and ‘keep trying!’ etc., when the person who isn’t trying so hard may actually have reached a valid conclusion about their own future effort/reward… The ‘keep trying!’ response seems too easy, like the ‘lose weight!’ solution for people who want to feel more attractive… I tend to be of the opinion that if a ‘writer’ or a writer can live a happy life without dedicating themselves to writing, they probably should - the people who need to do it will be compelled regardless… I’m in the middle of a window of opportunity in which I can write full-time, and so I’m doing that. It involves some risks of obvious types, but I can’t imagine doing anything else without regret - and I’ve had enough positive interaction with agents and editors to think that I’m not entirely deluded… Partial delusion can be useful.
Just wanted to say “thank you” for the kind words posted about my book. It was a labor of love both in the writing process (1 year) and the pitching process (nearly 2 years). Would love to stay in touch with anyone who wishes to do so.