E.S. Raye

If you follow me on my various social media platforms, you may already be aware of today’s topic–but my book is coming out in ten weeks, and this counts as marketing, so you’ll just have to bear with me!

On July 1st, I got an email from my publisher letting me know that we had received the Kirkus Review entry for Gas Giant Gambit. If you’re a more seasoned author than me, and you already know the significance of the Kirkus Review, you’ll also have to be patient with me, because I just learned all this this week!

Kirkus Review

Back in the middle of May, Alex Parker Publishing let me know they were sending GGG out for literary review. I have a vague idea of what that meant, but at the time I didn’t pay it much mind. In that same email, they mentioned they would be sending it to the Kirkus Review. I didn’t know what that meant. My response amounted to, “Sounds good,” with a shrug.

I have since learned that Kirkus is a well established and renowned literary magazine, and has been reviewing books since 1933. From my recent understanding, they guarantee a review for every book submitted to them (mainstream publishers are invited to submit books for free, while indie authors and presses are required to pay a fee. Full disclosure: as an indie press, we paid), but they do not guarantee a positive review. If you browse the Kirkus website, however, you may not find too many (if any) super negative reviews. This is because if you receive one as an author or publisher, you can hide it so no one sees it.

Ultimately, while the website caters more to readers, the monthly magazine (and the reviews) are really geared towards people in the industry: librarians, bookstore owners, book sellers, agents, and so-called middle-men.

Kirkus Star

About 10% of the books reviewed by Kirkus receive a star (I can’t find any information on how that breaks down between mainstream publishers and their indie reviews) for “exceptional merit.” These books are then eligible for the Kirkus Prize, a yearly award of $50,000 for winners in the categories of Fiction, Non-Fiction, and Children’s.

Gas Giant Gambit’s Review

It’s probably obvious, given I’m sharing the news, that Gas Giant Gambit was given a positive (in truth, glowing) writeup from the Kirkus Review. Read it here.

And not only that, I got a Star!

When my publisher emailed to tell me the good news and started congratulating me, I didn’t fully understand what it meant: that someone whose job it is to review books for a prestigious and historic magazine thought my debut novel was good enough to include it among the magazine’s favorite 10%.

They called it “immediately immersive,” and “deeply satisfying.” They called Gus “indelible” and “compelling.” And my absolute favorite line: “a reflective allegory for contemporary times.”

What Does This Mean?

By itself, not really much more than that the reader at Kirkus really liked it.

But it does open some possibilities. Basically, it’s a marketing tool, and one my publishers and I will have to actually use if we want it to do anything. As I mentioned, Kirkus is geared more towards people in the industry. A Star may help me get the attention of more booksellers than without. A wider net may mean more people have the opportunity to read it. One can only hope.

But for me, there’s really ever been one goal for Gas Giant Gambit: an agent.

I am currently unrepresented, and I submitted GGG to Alex Parker Publishing as such. I had sent the manuscript to several agents before going to Alex Parker, and didn’t even get a reply–let alone a rejection–from most of them. I signed with Alex Parker Publishing hoping to sell enough copies to gain the attention I had failed to when querying.

The Star should help with that–fingers-crossed. I’ve read a few stories of authors in similar situations to my own (startlingly similar in at least one case), where a Star got them the attention of agents and more.

As for the Prize: I’m not going to pay any attention to it. I glanced over the last few years’ Fiction winners and found them all to be historical or literary fiction. My pulpy-action space-western isn’t going to make the list of finalists.

That’s okay, I’d rather be nominated for a Hugo (hint, hint).