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Mean Girls:  Authors Edition

1/10/2015

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Things have changed for me since becoming a writer, and now an indie author. And, no, this has nothing to do with my entourage, my gigantic royalty checks, or my newfound addiction to hipster glasses, infinity scarves, and the word "existential". The changes I'm talking about have to do with my reviewing.

There was a time long before S. J. Henderson, where I read books just for fun, never giving a second thought to writing technique or typos. Once upon a time I could put a book down if I didn't like it without the need to know why I didn't like it. There was no insane drive to finish this thing I'd started if I didn't absolutely luuuurve it. 

And I could leave a brutally honest review without batting an eyelash. When I say "brutally honest", I don't mean leaving death threats or banishing the authors to You Should Be Ashamed To Call Yourself a Writer Land. I merely pointed out what I did and didn't like, with a definite emphasis on the did not like because I hoped to enlighten other readers.  

Thinking back on it, I wrote three such reviews near the very beginning of my own writing journey. These few reviews slipped through the cracks of a brain struggling with the switchover of reading as 100% hobby to reading as professional enrichment. It's hard to explain the frustration of your writer brain analyzing sentences and making mental (and sometimes physical) notes of typos or plot holes. The overload with not being able to fully escape into a book cost me at least one writer relationship.

A friend of a friend of a friend wrote a book, traditionally published and, it seems, popular. When I read this book, my overactive brain could only pick up negatives. I just didn't get it. It wasn't a matter of jealousy or anything like that, I just wasn't the right reader for the book. Instead of smacking my fingers in attempt to keep myself from plunking out that review and posting it on a site where the author would surely see it, I wrote the darn thing. It wasn't mean, it just wasn't particularly encouraging, either. And then I wondered why she wanted nothing to do with me.

I've never claimed to be a genius, guys. Not one of my most brilliant or kumbaya moments. Obviously.

I have since taken down every review where building up a writer or a book, even when pointing out its flaws, isn't evident. Why? Because those reviews weren't helping writers or readers, they just watered the seeds of negativity already spreading like weeds on review-based websites.  Writing isn't the easy, dreamy job society believes it to be. It's equally difficult and passionate work, whether a book turns out to be a bestseller or not. Even with skin thick skin, it's heartbreaking to read the review equivalent of "You Suck!". 

Does that mean I need to adore and shower every book I read with glowing praise? Of course not.  But if I can't share my thoughts publicly without destroying a fellow writer, then maybe I should hold my tongue or my Times New Roman altogether. Just a crazy little thought.

To the friend of a friend of a friend who will probably never read this, I'm sorry if I offended you. I'm sorry if I changed anyone's mind about your book. If I knew then what I know now, I would have done things a lot differently. While I can't change the impact it had upon you or even upon any sort of friendship we might have had, I can do better from here on.

I will do better. 

Let's all do better.
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No, Ryan. It's gonna take more than an apology for me to forgive you...
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It's Not World Peace, But...

7/8/2014

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Being an author is hard.  Whether you're going it alone as an indie author, or you've snagged an agent and a publishing house, it doesn't matter.  It's hard.


I'll stop you before you accuse me of whining.  I'm not.  For me (and many of my wordgeek friends), writing stories is probably the single-most-amazing thing one can do with a keyboard.  Unless you're one of those people who knows how to recreate the Mona Lisa using only binary code or something.  Then, yeah, you win.  


Anyhow, I love writing.  I love thinking of crazy stuff and actually putting it into words, sharing it, then having someone tell me that my words made them laugh.  Or that they listened to their children giggling together while reading one of my stories.  Writing isn't world peace, and it sure isn't the answer to world hunger, but all of that has to start somewhere.  A smile.  A laugh.  Sharing.  


Sharing.


As a writer, there are a few different ways to share.  This book publishing thing is new to me, so I'm experimenting with ALLLLLLLLL of the ways there are to share, just to see what happens while I'm sharing and afterwards.    


A couple of weeks ago, I ran a free promotion on Amazon for my Children's/Middle Grade book, Daniel the Draw-er.  Earlier in the month, I also offered "Daniel" for free.  Over the span of the month of June, 1,000 people downloaded my book.  For free.


To the average person, this doesn't make much business sense.  I gave away 1,000 copies of a book, or x amount of royalties from actual purchases.  The money I didn't earn in those "lost" royalties could have paid my house payment or a car note, or, heck, bought me a new pony if I so desired (I don't.  I know, I don't believe it, either).  But, between you and me, those 1,000 people aren't buying my book.  Those 1,000 people don't know who I am from the other millions of authors currently published on Amazon.  I don't have a PR firm paving the way for my success.  The only way those people will hear of me is from me.  And you, oh fantastical reader.  Did I lose sales from someone who likely would have eventually bought my book?  Absolutely.  It's okay, though.  Because something important happened.  A small percentage of those 1,000 people who actually opened my eBook and read my words now know that I mean business.  They might have smiled and laughed with their kids at bedtime, or from a hospital bed, or on that long plane flight or car trip.  They might even look for my name next time they go to buy another book.  And maybe, just maybe, they might even trust me.  


Authors share with other authors, too.  


I'm not known for my speedy reading unless it's one of those rare un-put-downable books.  Most of my friends on GoodReads know that I've been trying to read "The Book Thief" for over seven months, and that I keep starting and putting aside Lauren Oliver's Delerium.  Committing to read a book is a really big thing for me, but the writing world is a community, just like any other.  Authors, especially indie authors, rely on networking with other writers.  If we don't support each other, few will.  There is absolutely zero benefit in holing yourself up in your house with only a cellar full of booze to keep you company (although, admit it, we've all dreamed about that at least once).  Cutting down another writer, even someone you see as your competition, does NOTHING.  It just makes you look like a big, prententious jerkface.  A jerkface in a bathrobe with lotsa liquor, but a jerkface, nonetheless.

So, guess what?  In order to make my community of writers successful, I'm on a mission to not be a gigantic jerkface.  My game plan: 

  • I'm reading (True Colors by Krysten Lindsay Hager; Worth the Effort by Kai Strand; Turning Home by Stephanie Nelson; Madness Behind the Throne, by J. R. Simmons; currently I'm working on Into the Realm:  The Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book I by R. W. Foster).  I've downloaded a few more to work on soon (Past the Fields, Where All Is Golden by Ann T. Bugg; Curdled Dream by Rasheed Rambler).
  • I'm writing reviews.  They're short reviews, but if I've learned anything during my short publishing/marketing stint, it's that reviews are gold.  They can make or break a book, a reputation, a day.  Friends, if you never remember another thing I say, remember this:  Take five seconds to write a review for a book you enjoy, especially for writers who don't have the good fortune of calling themselves J. K. Rowling, Stephen King, or James Patterson.  Love it?  Review it. Pleaseandthankyou.
  • I've written a book blurb (recommendation which will be featured on its cover) for a book I've read, which will be featured on their book covers (Madness Behind the Throne, Book Five of the Gates of Atlantis series.  Each book features a different author--this one was written by J. R. Simmons). That's kind of cool because my name will be on J. R. Simmons' book, so without even trying, J. R. will be helping me out, too.  That's the funny and beautiful thing about helping each other.  When you do, you usually find yourself on the receiving end of some kind of blessing, too.  



If people, not just those of us in the writing and publishing world, would take the time to ask how we can help instead of focusing on "Me! Me! Me!", things could be better.  Still not world peace, but, gosh, wouldn't it be a great first step?


What about you?  Is there a need you have that someone in this community can help you with? 
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This made me smile.
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The Icing on the Cake

6/10/2014

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Today I visited my boys' school.  Two classes and a writing club, to which both of my boys belong.  The woman who runs the writing club began the visit by giving me a plant.  A pineapple lilac or something.  It's purple.  And it looks like a pineapple.  It's a clever name, really.

"I asked your boys if you were a plant person," she said. "They said no."  My boys don't lie.  I used to have plants... until the cats chewed every last one of them to bits.  There's not a sprig of color in my landscaping, either, because DOGS.  And now we have horses in our backyard.  So, yeah, maybe someday I'll try to cultivate life again.  Today is not that day.  Well, except for the really pretty flower thing named after fruit.

The writer's group was great, of course.  There was so much enthusiasm in that small group.  Each of them had written questions on index cards and took turns reading them out loud.  I made my boys blush by sharing the bits of "Daniel" based on them, which may be my favorite part of being invited to the school (but don't tell the boys).  The teacher spun my answers so that they related to concepts she's been teaching the kids.  She left out the part about drinking too much caffeine and popping Cinnamon Fire Jolly Ranchers like they're going out of style.   

The writing group teacher bought copies for each of the kids who weren't able to buy a copy for themselves, so that was really sweet.  I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say that out loud, but she did it.  I liked it.  I'm telling you about it.  

Then we had cake.  Really, really good cake.  Chocolate with that whipped cream frosting.

I may just sign books for her class, like, every day.

Next I spoke with my 10-year-old's class.  They read the whole book, but they asked me to read a section out loud for them anyway.  We agreed that the part about Whiskers in the tree was the perfect section.  I got to talk like a robot and, for a few seconds, a cat spinning on a ceiling fan.  My life is weird.

One of the kids asked how I came up with the character "Annie", Daniel's best friend.  For several years, my son had only one very good friend, a girl who is still in his class.  When I told the kids that I had based Annie on a girl they knew, I had to quickly make sure they knew she probably didn't eat worms.  

I've said my life is weird, haven't I?  Just checking.

My next stop was my eight-year-old's Second Grade class.  They had only made it through eight pages of the book because their teacher hadn't been able to do more than that due to multiple family emergencies the month before.  As expected, the kids weren't very excited about me being there.  One girl, who spoke in a cute little whisper kept mentioning something about her mom writing a book about ninja ballerinas?  At least, I think that's what she said.  It was hard to hear over the class next door's Kidz Bop version of "Fireworks".

The teacher gave me her microphone thing and let me read a couple chapters of the book.  Once I did that, the kids were much more excited about me and "Daniel the Draw-er".  I got to use my acting skills to read as Daniel, Annie, Whiskers, Pi-zzabot, Tommy, Lila, Ms. Konkle, and Mr. & Mrs. A.  It made me miss drama class.

One of the boys from the writing group was there for the reading, too, and he was actually finishing my sentences as I was reading.  Like, from memory.  

Wait.  Do I have a fanboy?  Because I really want some fanpeople.  That's awesome.

All in all, 19 books found their new homes, and that makes me happy.  I'm pretty sure it would have been more with more notice (or with more reading), but it was a good--and long--visit anyway.

And I got cake.  Thumbs up, friends.  Thumbs up.
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Want "Daniel"  For Free?

5/19/2014

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Daniel the Draw-er is my first published book, and my first self-published book.  It goes without saying that I'm working out my marketing plan as I go, seeing what helps and what doesn't.  I hope you don't mind being a part of my wily schemes and wacky experiments.  You don't?  Good!  We'll get along just fine, then.

For the next 21 days, you can download a PDF or .mobi (for Kindles or Kindle apps) for free, in exchange for your reviews.  The Story Cartel is a great site for helping authors with exposure, and I hope you'll be a part of this adventure!

Please share with your family or friends!  That's the only way to get my story into the hands of kids all over the world.  Thanks, friends!

Download "Daniel the Draw-er" at Story Cartel Now!

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2 Legit, 2 Legit 2 Quit

5/8/2013

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I need help.  I need your help.

I need you to throw anything you have at me--prayers, good thoughts, jingles, spare coins, whatever. 

It's an unholy time of the morning and I am up because my blistering shoulders told me to get up and rub the lotion into the skin (I really did NOT want the hose again).  Once the lotion soaked in, though, my mind couldn't turn back off.

This publishing thing has me all sorts of conflicted, y'all.  Reviewing the facts (or lack of facts) I have on my prospective publisher, I should continue on my merry little way.  But here I am, pausing.  It makes no sense.

A friend of a friend told me that if my goal was getting my book out there no matter what, even at the cost of my own legitimacy, to go ahead.

At the cost of my legitimacy?

Ouch.

My work--my status as a writer--could be construed as unworthy should I chose Publisher B over Publisher A?  Or, in another example, self-publishing vs. traditional publishing?  I presented this idea to my husband, who assured me that reasoning was flawed.  "If you're on the worst baseball team in the division, that makes you less of a baseball player?"  Some would say yes, but I understood what he was trying to get through my skull.

I get it.  I wouldn't have asked this friend of a friend to drop some knowledge (or, at the very least, scathing opinion) on me unless I didn't really want to hear it.  And I'm trying to be open to what is coming back to me--good and bad.  The problem with this particular company is that it sounds so promising, but it is so new that that's all there is right now--promises.  I'd sincerely hope that people would caution me about what I'm considering.  I'd likely do the same in their shoes. 

The answer to all of this seems so clear sometimes, and, at others, I can appreciate the views on the other side.  Frustrating.  Where is my Magic 8-Ball when I need it?

I'm obviously still weighing the plusses and minuses of this particular company and publishing traditionally at all, and I'm still on the fence.  That being said, I'm supposed to talk with their contract guy later today to explain their process.  I'll update when I know more, if I even know how to decipher any of the legal mumbo-jumbo into words any of us can wrap our brains around.  In the meantime, I'd reallyreallyreally appreciate it if you could think of me and help me to receive clear direction as to whether I should proceed or not. 

Thanks.  You're a peach, I don't care what the others say about you.
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Like Falling In Love

3/5/2013

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I'm currently in a holding pattern, waiting for beta-readers to finish up with my first book and get back to me with their comments.  Another writer confessed to me that the waiting period always makes her nervous.  It made me think.

As a writer, you spend thousands of hours pouring words onto a page or screen. Ideas are born, full of promise and excitement.  You grow and change with each character.  Together you encounter a full range of problems, from tiny bumps to impassable mountains.  When tears roll down their cheeks, your tears follow suit.  Heart in throat, you wait by their side as their last breath falls from still lips.  After 'The End', you discover that you've become someone richer in experience than the person you were before it all began.

To share that with others, especially others whose goal it is to point out your scars and imperfections, is frightening.  It is opening yourself--and your new friends--to attack, no matter how well-intentioned your attacker.  It is lowering your defenses in the hopes that the arrows will serve to build you up rather than fatally wound.  You make yourself vulnerable.  Vulnerability is unnatural for us.

In many ways, this feedback process is like falling in love.  It is delivering your beating heart on a platter and hoping it returns safely--that they love in return.  It is trusting that the other person has only the best intentions, only the purest motives.  It is the hope that they are skilled in architecture and demolish only what they must in order for us to rebuild stronger and more complete. 

There is such great and awful responsibility in love and art.

Maybe you don't write and you find it difficult to relate to my illustration because of that.  That's okay.  I think it still applies to many of our passions, not only the crafting of sentences.  Do what you do with love, because of love.  Accept the help of others with love.  Extend your hand to others with truth and compassion.  

Making yourself vulnerable and opening your heart to others is scary.  Sometimes you'll bleed and wish you'd kept your shield tucked tight around your chest.  At other times, bringing others alongside you on the journey reveals unspeakable beauty.  The joy is nearly always worth the splinters along the way.
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