Patrick Swenson

Advance Reading Copy. Aka “ARC.” Also known as Advance Uncorrected Proof. Not to be confused with ABMs, Advance Bound Manuscripts….

Well, whatever you call them, at whatever point that they are created, they have one sole purpose, and that is to generate possible buzz from reviewers who might give the book a literary “thumbs up,” as well as give some booksellers or book buyers an early look. Sometimes, too, other authors receive them for the purpose of giving advance publicity quotes.

They are printed with a paper cover. Sometimes they have the cover image, sometimes in color. Sometimes a publisher prints tons of them, but the reality is that they are expensive, and not that many are printed for most authors.

I awaited my copies with the excitement of a kid at Christmas. It would be the first time to see the book in some sort of bound form, closely resembling (at least on the interior) the final book. I received word that author Nancy Kress had received a copy so she could read it and possibly blurb it (she did, and gave a fabulous blurb at that!), but I had still not seen mine. Every day after work, I’d crane my neck to glance at my porch, hoping to see a box sitting there. The annual local convention, Norwescon, came and went. I still checked my porch.

The Monday after the convention, I let my editor know I was still patiently awaiting my copies of the ARC. I received an email right away telling me that UPS tracking showed that the box had been delivered to my house the previous Thursday! This was the first day of Norwescon, and I remember coming home Thursday night and seeing nothing on the porch.

So it was either stolen from my porch, or UPS delivered it to the wrong place. I never did find out where it ended up. They’re building new townhouses in my development, including a two-unit building right next to me. If workers decided to grab it hoping for something valuable, they were most likely disappointed by a box with six ARCs inside. But who knows? Maybe they decided to read the book and liked it and will tell all the fellow thieves in their crime ring and it’ll become a massive bestseller. Maybe not!

I told my editor about all this, and luckily, he shipped me the last of what he had, four copies, fastest possible method, and I had them a few days later. It was still a thrill to open the package and find them inside. No spendy color ARCs for this debut author; instead, they used the title page image, along with information on how to contact my publicist, and, on the back, marketing stuff. It was still the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a long, long while. Maybe ever. I figure when the final books arrive, I’m likely to break down and sob.

Since receiving them, I may have read the book in this form a couple of times, and none of it in any order whatsoever. I’ll open the book up to a certain page and start reading, thinking: “Does this hold up?” Or “What was I thinking when I wrote THIS passage?” Or “Oh, man, that’s still kick-ass.” Or “Oh-oh, did I mark this typo on the final page proofs?” And so on. Chapter 29, then Chapter 2, then Chapter 11…

I still pick the ARC up and glance through it. This is my book, for god’s sake, I think.  On a couple of occasions I have indeed found a few typos that were missed, and I forward those to Tor. If I find anything now, it may be too late, but it won’t hurt to try sending.

For now, I revel in the experience of having a physical, bound representation of my novel, with just three months to go before the real thing hits the shelves. I thumb through it, and the other three copies sit there neatly and unused on my desk.

I don’t expect to give those four copies to anyone.