How I Published My First Book, and You Can, Too!

Nothing Is Impossible

The five lessons in this article are ones I learned from my grandfather while publishing a book of memories about him.

The son of first-generation immigrants, my grandfather grew up helping at his family’s corner store on 9th and Pike Street in downtown Reading, Pennsylvania. In his life, he grew that corner store into a family-owned department store called Boscov’s. At five feet five inches tall, Albert Boscov was only short in stature. He was larger than life, the Barnum and Bailey of retail, a joyful Teddy bear of a human being, a philanthropist, and a loving family man who believed enthusiasm built around community values could bring any dream to fruition, no matter how impossible it might seem.

When my grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in late 2016, countless messages arrived from the community sharing thoughts, prayers, and memories. Six weeks later, he passed away, and even more messages inundated my family’s inbox, sharing stories. My cousins and I compiled those stories into a book of memories titled Did You Boscov Today? The book opens with the story of his diagnosis. If given a month to live, I might wallow. He persevered with joy and optimism. Every day, at 87 years old, he requested a 7am wakeup call from my brother or me so he could go to work. I have distinct memories of him walking out the door singing, “Hi ho, hi ho, it is off to work we go!”

If this article speaks to you, check out the book. My grandfather is my guiding light in all I do, and Did You Boscov Today? provided my personal introduction to independent publishing. For me, the lesson of his life story dances around themes of the American dream. To oversimplify: a Jewish family escaped pogroms and prejudice to make a fresh start in a new country. What started as a horse-and-buggy route through the Pennsylvania countryside became a beloved department store because my grandfather and his father before him dared to believe, “Nothing is impossible.”

Close Your Eyes and Dream a Little

In high school, I got to shadow my grandfather at work once a week for a trimester. At the time, he was quote-unquote retired.

As he aged into what would have been typical retirement years, he devoted more and more of his energy to Our City Reading, a nonprofit he founded to help revitalize his hometown. Plus, he worked at Boscov’s. It was around that time that he helped found the GoggleWorks Center for the Arts. I was lucky enough to attend a few planning meetings with him. I remember feeling like a kid at the adults’ table, a welcome while inwardly awkward teenage fly on the wall. Years later, I can look back and remember the lessons I learned from that experience. Specifically: “Close your eyes and dream a little.” If you do, any idea can become a reality. My grandfather dreamed of creating the GoggleWorks Center for the Arts because he saw how Greenville, South Carolina’s vibrant art scene contributed to the revitalization of its downtown. He believed the arts should be celebrated and that they would be pivotal in bringing people and economic interest back to Reading. In attending meetings with him, I remember all the planning he did: the blueprints, the scale models and drawings, the presentations. He and his team created a fully realized vision, accompanied by unbridled enthusiasm, that communicated the inevitability and joy of what the project would mean to the city. Twenty years later, the GoggleWorks Center for the Arts serves around 250,000 members of the community per year. The experience taught me imagination’s power to shape effectual change. Let’s take a beat and imagine your dream… Your book! Within your mind’s eye, see what it would be like to hold it within your hands. To test its weight. To feel its texture. To picture its impact. In whatever way comes naturally to you, make a plan for creating your book, write, draw, brainstorm, share, until it feels undeniably special and real to you.

As impossible as it may seem right now, if you close your eyes and dream a little, one day I believe you will publish your book, and that’s where the real journey begins, once your book stops being a figment of your imagination and takes on a new life in the hands of readers.

You Get What You Give

My grandfather never forgot his roots. He often expressed his gratitude to the community of Reading, where he grew up, and to America for providing our family with the opportunity to succeed. His life was a testament to the values of giving back.

He credited this lesson to his father. During the Depression, when folks couldn’t pay for goods, my great-grandfather, Solomon Boscov, entrusted customers to pay only if and when they could, even if that was months or years later. When times improved, my grandfather attested that they always did.

I recently rewatched a video of my grandfather addressing a retirement community. In it, he expresses his belief that there’s an inherent business benefit to giving back, but that’s not why he did it, or why you should. Our modern world can be so jaded and uncaring, so it’s with pride that I write books about the inherent value of community. Perhaps, one day, you’ll have the distinct honor of writing an article sharing your publishing experience, so others can learn from your journey.

You Haven’t Failed; You Just Haven’t Succeeded Yet

How did Oak Tree Comics go from a self-publishing venture to a nationally-distributed independent publisher?

When a child learns to walk, it’s expected that they will fall. We don’t remember each fall as a failure because every tumble is celebrated as a step toward a larger, life-affirming goal. As adults, we are more unforgiving. We don’t allow ourselves to fail or fall because we know it hurts and that others will perceive our pain without appreciation for our ability to stand back up. To highlight a few times I’ve metaphorically fallen: as a college senior, I applied to a graduate program in cartooning and was rejected. (To the program’s credit, I’m not that great at drawing.) A decade later, I founded Oak Tree Comics. So my journey eventually came full circle. At the time, the rejection wasn’t fun! Even though I’m not the best artist, I’ve always loved graphic novels. Growing up, I studied the newspaper comics section and doodled imitations of my favorites. I even wrote and drew graphic novellas for my high school and college senior thesis projects. My high school senior thesis continued this pattern of me emulating my cartooning heroes. The book that got me into graphic novels was Goodbye, Chunky Rice by Craig Thompson. With its heartwarming narrative and imaginative compositions, Goodbye, Chunky Rice was my favorite graphic novel, and still is. Inspired by Goodbye, Chunky Rice, my high school senior thesis was experimental in its exploration of comics compositions.

It was twenty-six pages of pure creativity, largely liberated from any internal critic. Each day, I wrote and illustrated one page using color pencils on printing paper, without going back and editing. It was kind of like an exquisite-corpse exercise. The premise? When a restaurant patron finds a spider in his soup, he demands that it give him superpowers. Soup-er powers? (Somehow, I didn’t make that joke in the comic.)

For my college senior thesis, I was a film and English joint major, so my proposal had to satisfy both departments. I had zero academic art experience, so everyone was skeptical when I said I wanted to draw a graphic novel. To convince them, I drew a proposal that sketched my professors into a scene where a cartoon version of myself sold them on my project’s merit. Once the thesis was greenlit, I spent my last college semester largely neglecting my other coursework so I could draw a graphic novella adapting D.H. Lawrence’s short story “The Rocking Horse Winner.” I even had a half-dozen saddle-stitched copies printed, my first professionally printed book!

All of this is to say: over the years, I studied comics outside of academia in a way that was profound and meaningful to me. When I applied to cartooning graduate school and was rejected, it hurt to have a figure of authority say, “Nope, not you!” When you fall, I think you remember the impact even more than any successful steps that got you there in the first place. (My college thesis actually won an award from my film department.) As good as it was, the verdict that lasted with me the longest was “no, not good enough.” When I got back on my feet, I still wanted to write, but I no longer planned to be a cartoonist. The new plan: screenwriter! Over the next two years, I applied to film graduate programs and metaphorically fell, time and again, rejected two years in a row. Each time I fell, I dusted off my knees and wrote some more. I wrote because I enjoyed it! Even if professionally all I ever heard was “nope,” I would still write every day, because the act of creating brings me so much meaning and joy. During that period of “rejection,” I was accepted into UCLA’s part-time extension program in screenwriting. That acceptance was all the encouragement I needed to move cross-country to Los Angeles. In a new city where I knew next to nobody, I went to screenwriting classes twice per week while working a variety of odd jobs. I coached soccer to toddlers, taught Lego animation at after-school programs, and interned with a couple of film production companies. The next year, I applied to graduate programs anew and… was rejected again. It wasn’t until the following year, the fourth time applying to graduate schools, that I got into the American Film Institute. Going to grad school taught me that perceived failures are an opportunity to persevere. Being a writer requires resilience. When your story is critiqued, it stings! It’s no fun when someone doesn’t get or doesn’t like your story. Receiving feedback, both the good and the bad, taught me to embrace a self-growth mindset. That’s one of the reasons I loved film school. At AFI, part of the curriculum called for producing short films as teams. Critique suddenly serves a fundamental and necessary purpose when the goal is to make your story into something people will see. For my first short film, it took me nine rewrites before we had a shooting script that our creative team felt was ready. I was so proud of how the story had evolved for the better, thanks to the community of filmmakers who helped turn it from idea into reality. Six months after graduating from AFI, I metaphorically fell again. We’re back in late 2016. This time, life knocked me down when my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. Losing a loved one has its way of putting everything in perspective. When my grandfather died, the pursuit of writing lost its luster and importance, until the act of being creative received renewed purpose. At my grandfather’s memorial, a Boscov’s store manager said, “There should be a book of memories about Albert.” My cousins and I couldn’t agree more. That summer, we compiled and edited the stories folks had shared and traveled from Boscov’s to Boscov’s to interview people who knew and loved him. The end result was Did You Boscov Today?

Following such a personal project, I freelanced as a screenwriter for a few years. The lessons I learned from Did You Boscov Today? were always in the back of my mind. Come the pandemic, my jobs as a screenwriter were on hold, and I had time to reevaluate my impact as a storyteller and as a citizen of our world. At the time, the only recourse to connect with community was to be outdoors. My thoughts naturally gravitated to the environment. That period of introspection inspired me to start Oak Tree Comics, with the goal of creating imaginative stories that would advocate for nature. Looking back, I often wonder, “What was I thinking?!” Outside of publishing Did You Boscov Today?, which had the infrastructure of a department store behind it, I didn’t know that much about publishing or business, really. What I did have were the lessons I had learned from my grandfather. Whenever I felt unsure of myself, I could turn the page to a story about him and think back on a memory that would help.

Success Is Never One Person

As an author, in an industry where success is often defined by how prominently your name is displayed on a bookshelf, I remind myself frequently: “Success is never one person.”

To me, this adage speaks to the power of community. As individuals, we have the tremendous opportunity and responsibility to uplift and celebrate each other. Forgive me if this section reads like an acknowledgements section. I can’t write about Oak Tree Comics’ success without highlighting a few of the wonderful people who made Oak Tree Comics what it is today. To avoid this reading too much like an Oscar speech, I’ll quickly skip over my parents and grandparents (Eunie, I love you!), whose unwavering support allowed me to pursue a creative career. When I founded Oak Tree Comics, the first person I reached out to was my cousin Amelia. Along with our cousin Jonah, she was the other principal editor of Did You Boscov Today? Oak Tree Comics started with Do You Speak Tree?, a picture book about a good-natured oak tree on an adventure to save the forest. I wrote the manuscript; as the book’s editor, Amelia provided ideas to make the story better and better.

To find our illustrator, we posted a job on Behance, an Adobe-owned site where artists share their portfolios. Of the hundred-plus applicants, Josiane Vlitos drew our eye. Her love for nature, combined with her film background, fit our collaborative creative process. Do You Speak Tree? debuted on Earth Day 2021. It was initially a print-on-demand book. Thanks to our friends and family and the community we made on social media, by the fall of 2022, we had enough of a readership to substantiate our first print run.

Did you know you’re on PrintNinja’s website?

Time and again, I’ve chosen PrintNinja as Oak Tree Comics’ printer for several reasons. One of the most important reasons returns to this idea of community, that “success is never one person.” My introduction to PrintNinja came thanks to Kickstarter, a platform built around the idea of a community uplifting and funding cool, creative projects. If you’re reading this article, you may already know of PrintNinja’s Kickstarter Promotion. Yes, the promotion is marketing, but it also speaks to what I perceive to be PrintNinja’s core value of supporting independent creators by fostering community. Whenever I work with PrintNinja, I know I’m working with great people, that Margaret will keep my production on track and that Jen will answer all of my questions about book design.

More people to thank

By the time we were ready to do our first print run for Do You Speak Tree?, we were already developing a handful of additional titles, both for young and middle-grade readers. You know what that means, even more people to thank! In Oak Tree Comics’ first five years of publishing, illustrator Aster D’Amico and letterer Haley Rose-Lyon were our two other key creative contributors, working on our middle-grade titles Thorn the Unicorn and The Weird Animal Hour.

In addition to our core creative team, there were so many other folks who were invaluable to Oak Tree Comics’ growth: family, friends, educators, lawyers, designers, fellow authors, librarians, the list goes on. It takes a village to make a book! Thanks to that community, Oak Tree Comics continues to grow. Creating community through publishing is where we flourish. Over the past few years, the team and I have attended close to 100 local events at schools, festivals, fairs, markets, libraries, and so on. Thanks to that focus on community, we’ve had the good fortune of connecting with thousands of readers, and that has been, and will continue to be, a boon for our growth and sales. A recent communal highlight: our forthcoming book We Are Los Angeles, an anthology of middle-grade comics in support of wildfire relief. The book features over thirty local Los Angeles-based writers and artists. We also have a handful of additional titles in development with new creators, and we’re looking to publish more books. If working with Oak Tree Comics interests you, we’d love to hear from you! You can read more about our publishing efforts and submission guidelines on our website: www.oaktreecomics.com.