Valuing my time


When it comes to selling my books direct to the public, I’m shy – I find it difficult to charge the full cover price without blushing. Interesting question from this reader follows – Why?

In the past, it has been because when I see the cover price and consider the outlays, I say to myself, ‘That’s enough of a mark-up….’ or more usually, ‘That’s enough for me just now…’

But hang on. What about the value of my time? That intangible quality, that gift from Heaven knows where, which, when we are young we seem to have so much of. From a vast, pale canvas, a cavern to fill with our plans and dreams, as our years pass, time seems to kaleidoscope alarmingly into something bright and precious… It shrinks imperceptibly, brightening up with the power of our focus to something so valuable.

And writing my books has literally taken years of my time. Time I will not get back, that has been and is precious to me. Investing in this desk-computer-word-count business means I have not done other things I wanted to… All that is worth part of the price too, is it not?

When considering prices, wholesale discounts and the rest, it is so tempting to say, ‘It doesn’t matter…’ and feel a bit wilted afterwards at yet another example of self-sabotage, that classic, painful opt down.

At least I know what to do about it. To counter any more erosion of my self-belief, this important principle, a mere two pounds here and there, may not seem much, but it feels good to ask, unashamed, for the full cover price. There is no storm waiting at the end of that private battle, only more confidence. Only more certainty in knowing that I’ve compromised enough, enough now, and that time is too precious to discount.

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