My Publishing Top Ten Wish List

Everyone has their own wish list. It’s no different in the indie publishing industry. We all have things we want to see come about, and I’m no exception.

Somewhere in my forays I read an article, and in it, the writer spoke a profound truth. He said something to the effect of the fact that everyone wants a blockbuster bestseller, but that’s not common. Even if you manage that, when the dust settles, what’s your long-term goal, your five-year goal, followed by your ten-year goal? Most indie writers don’t even think about that. Instead, they write a book, slap a cover on it, and hit “publish” on Amazon without thinking any farther than that, except, of course, about the vacations to Cancun and brand-new Jaguars they'll buy with that fortune they're going to make.

Gotta admit, the guy had a point.

I have my own wish list. Call it my “Top Ten” if you’d like. Let me share it with you. As I do, I hope you’ll give it some thought.

#10

I want to make a living at this crazy vocation. It’s unlikely that I will, but I’d love to be able to, or at least supplement our income. Right now, I’d take making enough money to cover the book covers, formatting, proof copies from Createspace, swag, banners, mileage and gasoline, all of that. It’s a dream, I know, but I’d love to be able to do that.

I know you're thinking, "Wait! Making a living as an author is her number ten? Seriously?" Yeah. Serious as a heart attack. Read on.

#9

I want to wake up every day happy that I’m a writer. I’m not talking about being an author; I’m talking about being a writer. I am an author, but before, during, and after being an author, I was, am, and will be a writer. I want to remember why I’m doing this in the first place and fall in love every day with the freedom of expression that I have. If I get too lost in the commercial side, I’ll forget all that. I don’t want to do that – ever.

We've got a lot of frickin' "authors" out there, people. We need some writers.

#8

I want my family to finally be proud of me. I know that’s asking a lot – what kid wants their friends to know their mom writes “porn?” – but it would be nice. I’m not expecting them to like my books, but I would like for them to acknowledge how hard I’m working.

#7

I’d like to meet more interesting people, talk to them, get to know them. I love doing that. Yeah, I’m scared shitless, but I’d still like to do it. I get really, really nervous when I’m in a crowd, and especially a crowd of people I don’t know, but I like to laugh and smile. I’d like to share that with others.

#6

I’d like to find a way to really help other authors who are just getting started. I’m no expert, but I share anything I can with anyone who asks. I’m just that way. Sometimes I get taken advantage of, true (someone always tells me I’m too nice, and I’m sure she’s right). But I still will help if I’m asked. And, for the record, I’m not talking about these airheads who have glaring grammatical errors in their book titles, for the love of god, or the ones who think the past tense of lie (as in recline) is lied. I don’t have time for that – at all. I’m working here. Stop being sloppy and lazy or don’t expect my help. I’ll help anyone, but I want to know they’re helping themselves.

And by the way, that old saying that everyone has a book in them? Not true. And even if they do, perhaps for some of them it would be better if they kept that to themselves.

#5

I’d like to be recognized as an author. I’m not talking about winning all kinds of awards, or being on magazine covers, or any of that stuff. One of the most thrilling things that happened to me lately was when I posted a picture of my family and me at a local winery and had someone on Facebook say, “I thought you looked familiar! We were sitting at the table on the other end!” I told her she should’ve come on down and had a seat with us. We were acting stupid and having a good time. We always do. And the more, the merrier. Plus if they recognize me, I want to be approachable and to show them that we’re not “rockstars,” as so many people have said. We’re just people who want to share a few good stories with the world. That’s all

#4

I want sales, but not in the way most of my peers think. Sure, I like a high sales day. Who doesn’t? That’s nice occasionally. But actually, I’d rather have something that builds and grows steadily, not something that comes in a rush and then dies down. I’d rather sell ten books a day than fifty in one day and then only one or two, sometimes none, the other days of the month. Why? Because I know that once I’ve sold ten books a day, it’ll go up to eleven, then to fifteen, then to twenty, and after a while I’m doing very well. I want sales that are sustainable. That’s what I’m patiently working toward.

#3

I want to surround myself with creative people. I hate Facebook, but that’s the one thing I love about it. So many of the people I know on there are ridiculously talented, and I love that. Creative people need to be with other creative people. There aren’t very many other authors around here, so being in an environment, even a virtual one, with so many more is a dream come true. A writer’s life can be pretty solitary, but now it doesn’t have to be.

#2

I want to craft the absolute best stories I can and make them the absolute best finished product anyone could manage. I agonize over every word, edit until my eyes bleed, and even read them out loud to myself at least three times to make sure I did my best. So far, I’m told I do an excellent job of it. I’d like to think so. I strive for quality, and I hope it shows. When people read my work, I want them to laugh and cry and maybe even want to slap their mama sometimes. I want the characters to leap off the page for them. Mostly, I want them to enjoy themselves with my work. That’s why I’m doing it.

#1

The thing I want most is . . . well, let me explain like this.

I was having a conversation in a private message with a member of my street team; for the record, she’s someone I highly respect. Here’s what she said to me, as I recall. She told me she couldn’t understand why my books weren’t flying “off the shelves” because they’re good. She said I was the hardest-working author she knew. And she said that, because of me, she had faith in the industry, and that if I ever gave up and quit, she’d completely lose faith. I should just tell you, when the conversation was over, I sat and wept.

So here’s my promise: I will never quit unless finances or health require me to do so. I have a team behind me and they believe in me. And I would never, never dishonor their faith in me by being a flake or a quitter. Never. If they’ll hang in there with me, I’ll most definitely hang in there. Thanks, Construction Crew. You’re my lifeline. You keep me humble by not treating me like I’m anyone special, and you keep me going with your encouragement. Sometimes I want to quit, but I won’t. So thank you. And thanks to the best promo person in the whole word over at DRC Promotions. She’s outrageously talented, spectacularly organized (which is a really, really good thing for me), and supremely efficient. I’m in awe, and I can’t thank her enough. And her sidekick is pretty damn special too.

So what’s my number one thing? I want to last. I want to be here when the rest have given up, become disillusioned, and finally admitted it’s not an easy way to make a buck. In ten years, when you come here and check on me, I’ll still be doing this, and I’ll still be loving it and having fun. I'm not talking about getting rich; I'm talking about being successful. I want to be successful and to know that my success has helped others become successful too. That’s what I want most of all.

Here’s to ten years. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

My Reads: Been Loving You Too Long by Seraphina Donavan

I’m trying to do something that will help my readers possibly branch out in their reading repertoire, and I’m trying to help the authors whose work I feature, primarily because I like their books. As I’ve said so many times before, THESE ARE NOT REVIEWS. If I don’t like a book, I won’t even give it a place on this blog because, whether I liked it or not, that’s still free advertising. (*This disclaimer has been given because I've been INUNDATED with people asking me to review books. THIS IS NOT A REVIEW, AND I'M NOT A REVIEWER! How hard is that to understand?)

SURPRISE!!!! With that said, I have a book that surprised me when I read it. I received it from the author as a giveaway at a conference last year. I didn’t know if I’d ever get to it, but I saw it there one day, beckoning to me, so I picked it up to give it a try, and I’m certainly glad I did. Today on the blog I’m featuring Been Loving You Too Long by Seraphina Donavan.

As it started out, I was a little worried about whether I’d finish the book or not. It’s a familiar trope: Rich guy who’s about to come into some money (or not) falls for the hired help. Along the way some other familiar tropes fall into the story but, as always, no spoilers here for me. So let me tell you what I liked about this book.

First off, it wasn’t rife with mistakes. Sure, there were some punctuation issues that I would change personally, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t correct, just my personal preferences (and yes, there is more than one way to punctuate a great many things, and none are necessarily incorrect). The rest of the mechanical stuff, grammar, punctuation, spelling, missing/extra words – this was a very clean text. That alone is enough to make me clap.

My biggest selling point on the book was that I found both of the main characters, Vincent and Ophelia, to be extremely likeable. Yeah, there was angst, of course there was angst, but it was realistic and palatable. But what I usually hate about these kinds of storylines is that the leading man is usually a real douchebag. This story wasn’t that way at all. I found Vincent, the main character, to be tragic in his reactions and my heart broke for him and the way he couldn’t bring himself to accept his own feelings. I also loved the fact that, while she had every right to be, Ophelia never turned into a four-door, brass-plated bitch, but instead just tried her hardest to keep her heart and self-esteem intact.

But I also liked the supporting characters. Thomas was likeable, as was Justin, but Kaitlyn was just a scream – I love her. Ophelia’s friend, Brenna, is a hoot too. And the “bad guys,” Claude and his daughter, Melina, are just about as sour and unlikeable as any pair I’ve ever seen. And you know how I feel about characters. If I can’t like them or hate them, if it’s a take them or leave them, I’ll leave the book. This book delivered characters I loved.

I have a rule that no word is too dirty to use in my books. With that in mind, I found Been Loving You Too Long to be a softer read; not cooler, just softer. It’s still plenty steamy. You’ll enjoy that factor. Overall, the writing lent the book a vintage feel, and I loved that about it, especially given the setting (not telling you; you’ll have to read it).

The ending is, as with all tropes, predictable, but there was still a feeling of complete satisfaction. I don’t get that with many device-laden reads, but this one did it for me. I was impressed. If I understand correctly, there will be more books in this series. I’ll be looking for them, and I certainly hope one of them is Kaitlyn’s. I’d love to hear more from her! If you get a chance, buy a copy of Been Loving You Too Long and enjoy it, because I know you will.

Religious erotica (yes, that's what I said)

Wow. Here’s a topic that’s bound to get me into trouble. But you know me, always stepping in it and then trying to get it off my shoes.

So here goes.

Something came up the other day on my Facebook wall, as it is so apt to do, because that’s just how I roll. I made some comment about how I’m forever seeing books featuring Wicca, but never Baptists or Episcopalians. Apparently I left out a plethora of other denominations, which was pointed out to me quickly. Mea culpa. Unfortunately, I didn’t have room in that post to name them all. Matter of fact, I don’t think I could.

What did happen, however, is that it started quite a thread in which angels and Mormons were both mentioned. Oddly, nobody mentioned Judiasm. I was surprised at that. And it was assumed that a book like that would be very boring. It might indeed be, based on what I know. But whatever. So today, in a bold move that’s bound to get me unfriended on Facebook by hundreds of people, I’m diving into this headfirst for a little exposition on religion, sex, and, more specifically, erotica.

First off, let me start by saying that if none of the people in this country who profess to be morally upright and sexually pure had bought Fifty Shades of Gray, EL James would still be standing in her kitchen, baking cupcakes and wondering how she was going to pay her bills. Frankly, I’ve never seen so much sneaking around since my friend V started dating a Black guy (gasp!) in high school. (That was a long time ago, folks, long time.) They went in droves to the bookstores, hid them in the bottoms of baskets covered with Christianity Today magazines, bought them online and waited by the mailbox before anyone could ask what they’d bought, and read them in the shed out behind the garage out behind the neighbor’s house so no one would know. Before you say I’m judging, just let me say I know some of these women, and I’m not making this up, nor have I said they’re wrong for reading it. Sneaking around, wrong; reading it, not wrong. So before you get all up on your high horse about me pointing this out, know that I know first hand that it’s happening. Don’t argue this point with me. Like taking a shower in a raincoat, it’s futile.

Second, before you start spouting all your religious mumbo-jumbo, let me make a confession to all of you: As recently as thirteen years ago, I was estimated to be the best-trained Southern Baptist adult division Sunday school teacher in this area. Conferences. Workshops. Speaking engagements. I did it all. Traveled to St. Louis to train with the premiere speakers bureau in the United States, CLASServices (Christian Leaders, Authors, and Speakers Services), and got my certification, yes I did, in front of at least a thousand people. Worked for a pregnancy care center where I discovered that the other volunteers were putting the hard-sell on pregnant girls to become born-again Christians just so to get diapers and formula (not my style even back then). Yes – I was one of those people. I’m embarrassed now, but back then, I was very, very proud. Know anybody who could use a massive, expensive, comprehensive Judeo-Christian reference library? I’ve got one for sale.

Third, yes, there is religious erotica. Before you say it, I know what the term “religious” means. I’m using it in this for the purpose of this blog entry to reference a belief system, not a practice. Now you’re getting your hackles up; I can see them from here. I’ve got one thing to say about that:

Song of Solomon/Songs. Might as well concede now – I just won that argument.

If you argue with me that there is no such thing as religious erotica, you have obviously not read this book in the current version of the Christian Bible. Current version, you ask? Yeah, the one that’s being printed now, you know, the one that numerous books have been taken from and added to over the course of time? Yeah, that alpha and omega, the one that’s constantly in flux since it was compiled.

A lot of theologians will argue that the Song of Songs is merely metaphor. Poppycock. Read it. And before you start reading it again, remember that Solomon, in case you didn’t know, was the biggest, baddest sorcerer who ever lived. That’s also pretty much been proven through ancient texts not included in the Bible. That doesn’t mean that they aren’t accurate; that just means that they haven’t been embraced by a bunch of theologians who typically don’t embrace things they don’t understand.

The Song of Songs is erotica at its finest. If you want to write erotica, read it. Please. It’ll give you a perspective that you won’t get anywhere else, an ancient one. Makes the Kama Sutra look like a new book. And so, let me give you a key verse from that book while I have this Bible lying here on my lap (yes, I still have one and, surprisingly, it has not spontaneously combusted yet) and let you draw your own conclusions. It’s Song of Songs 6:3, New International Version: “I am my lover’s and my lover is mine; he browses among the lilies.”

This supposedly takes place in the Shulammite woman’s garden. I don’t care. He ain’t talkin’ ‘bout no tiger lilies here, no he is not.

Here’s another passage, Song of Songs 4:1-7 (NIV): “How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes behind your veil are doves. Your hair is like a flock of goats descending from Mount Gilead. Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn, coming up from the washing. Each has its twin; not one of them is alone. Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon, your mouth is lovely. Your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a pomegranate. Your neck is like the tower of David, built with elegance; on it hang a thousand shields, all of them shields of warriors. Your breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies. Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of incense. All beautiful you are, my darling; there is no flaw in you.”

Somehow, I think if someone told me that my teeth were like a flock of sheep shorn, I might take offense, but somehow apparently that was quite the compliment in those days. But having parts of my body compared to a “mountain of myrrh” and a “hill of incense?” Yeah. I could go with that.

But you see what I mean. Metaphor be damned – this is the real deal. And that’s one of the milder passages.

That leaves this question: Why are women all over this country who profess to be devoutly religious hiding to read erotica?

It’s because they’ve been taught that their bodies are shameful. Dirty and smelly. Unpleasant and unattractive. Kate Upton is an exception. And she brings up another question.

What does Victoria’s Secret use as its marketing symbol? Angels. Dream angels. Models with wings, wings of biblical proportions. My sister-in-law just mentioned that she’s reading a book where angels are having sex. My brain just screamed, “Whaaaa?” That was a shocker. But let me tell you that as I was cleaning out the remains of my inlaws’ estate, I went through their shed and what did I find? My sister-in-law’s Victoria’s Secret catalogs, all ferreted away by my father-in-law for his viewing pleasure while he was out in the shed. Made me a little afraid to touch anything else in there. We now call Victoria’s Secret catalogs “Southern Baptist deacon porn.” Makes me giggle.

Of curiosity is the fact that there’s a passage in Genesis where the “sons of God” coming down to mate with “the daughters of men” is mentioned. What does that mean? Angels? Aliens? I have no idea. Supposedly, their mating brought about the Nephilim, a super race of extremely large, strong people, or men at least. The women aren’t mentioned (surprising, right?). And if you question a conservative fundamentalist, they’ll tell you that Adam and Eve’s children obviously mated with each other, given that they were the only people in the world, or there wouldn’t be a human race now. I don’t know what they call that where you live, but in most of the country they call that incest. In Kentucky we still call it marriage, but whatever. You get my point.

And I was at a conference last year where a writer was talking about her books and the fact that she writes Christian romance. If I remember correctly (and she’s a FB friend of mine, so she can correct me if I’m wrong), she has trouble within the genre because, unlike the other Christian romance writers out there, she doesn’t see sex as something dirty, especially between a married couple. She tries to portray it realistically, and she gets into trouble with that sometimes. I think that’s a shame.

So where do I stand on religous erotica? Haven’t seen any except Song of Songs, but I’d love to read some. That would be interesting. I’d like to read some. I’d like to see some bold, brave, risk-taking writer say, “To hell with all of you! I’m writing religious erotica! Religoius people have sex too!” Well, they do. I did. Apparently a lot of religious people have.

Know what I think the problem is? In erotica, women actually enjoy sex. And that’s wrong. Sex is supposed to be for men to enjoy and women to endure. It’s for men to procreate, and for women to be the vessels for their procreation.

And if that’s true, choke on this: The clitoris is the only organ known to man that has no function except to provide pleasure. That’s its only use. So suck on that. No, I mean literally; suck on it. Works every time.

Get on it, writers. I know there are a bunch of you out there wondering what genre isn’t saturated and trying to find something new and creative. This is it. And I want to read it. Get in touch with me and let me take a look. I’ll see if I can crank up my conservative radar and give you a reading on how it’ll be received.

Because if it’s well received, it’ll mean you obviously did it wrong.

My Reads: Naked At Our Age by Joan Price

I intentionally didn't put the entire title of this non-fiction book in the title of this blog post. Why? I was afraid some who might possibly benefit from the book would turn away if they read the title and think there was nothing there for them. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

So what's the entire title? This week I'm introducing you to Joan Price, an extraordinary woman, and one of her books, Naked At Our Age: Talking Out Loud About Senior Sex.

Before you recoil in horror, or think This couldn't possibly apply to me, think again and give this book a look. It was eye-opening to me, and I think it could be to you.

Joan Price is elegant in her delivery of the joys and difficulties of sex after a "certain age." When I first bought this book, I did so because it was recommended by Betty Dodson, PhD, one of the premier sexual educators in this country. I'd watched some of Betty's videos with Carlin Ross, another sex educator, and enjoyed them. I looked through the "look inside" feature and liked what I saw.

This book isn't a manual. Instead, it's filled with actual questions and experiences of real people Joan interviewed for this book. And before you decide you don't want to read it, let me make it clear: There's plenty in here from which ANY person could benefit. The book includes chapters on sexless marriages and the dissatisfaction of a partner, bonding in non-sexual ways, using sex toys, surviving divorce and/or betrayal, and finding sexual satisfaction in the interim or aftermath of many diseases and disorders, such as cancer or Alzheimer's. There's talk about talk - specifically, talking about sex, one of my big ticket items. I firmly believe that if you can't talk about sex with your partner, you probably shouldn't have sex until you can talk about it. Communication is key.

So what did I like about this book? Everything. Sure, there was plenty in there that I already knew, but there was also plenty in there that I'd never thought about before. It can give you some ideas, encourage you if you're having problems, and help you find ways to talk to your partner about what you like and what you need.

If you're experiencing any type of difficulty in your sex life, please consider giving this book a try. While it's geared toward the older adult, it would be useful for lovers of any age. If you buy it and read it, I promise you won't be sorry.

Joan's beloved husband, Robert, succumbed to leukemia before this book was finished. Toward the end of the book, she talks about the love they shared and his unwavering support of her and her goals. I was encouraged just by reading about the relationship they shared. If your sex life is in a stall, you're completely dissatisfied, or just tired and want to throw in the towel, give it a read first. You might just decide it's worth the time and effort involved to have a healthy love life again.

Just leave me be

You might be wondering how I got the title of this blog post. It’s not hard to figure out, really. It’s something I probably say a dozen times a day to myself under my breath or just internally in my head.

It’s also a decidedly southern phrase. You don’t hear this very much up north. Some northerners probably wouldn’t even know what I mean if I said that to them. So let me clarify first.

“Just leave me be” is exactly what it sounds like. It means to go away and not bother me. It means that I really don’t want to be interrupted. It means that you’re causing a distraction that I really don’t want or need.

And it seems I say that a lot these days.

Now you’re wondering to whom I say this phrase. So let me help you out with that.

Here’s the one I love: “You’re working too hard. You should take a day off. You’re going to get burned out.” I’ve got two words for that one.

Fuck off.

Let me ask you something: Do you see the guy who just opened the little mom and pop burger joint just closing up for a day because he might get “burned out?” Nope. And he doesn’t have enough money to hire a bunch of help, so he, his wife, and his two teenaged kids are working from ten in the morning until ten at night, trying to make a go of this business. If they don’t, it will fail, and with his job in the auto industry or coal mining industry gone, they’ll have even less of nothing than they already had. It’s like the nursery up the highway from me. They made a big production out of opening up, their custom holiday trees, their spring bedding plants, their rose bushes for Mother’s Day, all that stuff. But they’re never open. Go by there and they’re closed. They were only open about three days a week at best. Nobody wants to drive out to somewhere like that, only to find they’re closed. That’s a waste of time. The property’s up for sale – what a surprise.

Same thing here. This is a business. It’s not a hobby. It’s not a pastime. It’s a damn business, people. I have to be “open for business.” I need to answer email. I need to respond to PMs on Facebook. I need to order stuff, call people, send in applications for events, mail things out, all of that stuff. I need to confer with my promo person, my assistant, and my street team. Mostly, I need to WRITE. It’s hard to find time to do that with all of the other stuff I have to do, but I need to be doing that too. So yes, I’ve been working 18-20 hour days for over a year, and there’s no end in sight. But I haven’t turned a profit, so I’ve got to keep working. If I’d borrowed money, the bank would want it back, with interest. Just because I’m funding this privately doesn’t mean it’s any less expensive.

Here’s another time sucker: “Can you help me with something?” I just love these people. They see me out there hustling and they want to ask me a question, and they figure out quickly that I’m a kind, loving person and I’m willing to help just about anybody. Their request is usually something pretty involved. And then, when I tell them the answer, one of two things happens. I find out that a) they’re not willing to do whatever it is I’ve told them will work, and/or b) they treat me like I don’t know what I’m talking about. Nice, very nice. Take up my time, which, by the way, is the only damn thing I really own and have sacrificed for you, and basically thumb your nose at me.

So I have a new policy. I don’t mind helping anyone, and I’ll help you, but when it’s obvious to me that you won’t even help yourself, I’m done. Done. Don’t ask again. I’ve got one right now that’s put herself in that situation with me. She comes back and asks me to help her and I’ll have to tell her that she did something that makes her look flaky in the eyes of other authors and I can’t afford to be associated with that. Bottom line. She’s going to be upset. She won’t be any more upset than I was when I figured out how much effort I’d put into helping her and then discovered that she wasn’t serious about the craft, the business of the craft, or the community. Of course, if you asked her, she’d say I couldn’t have spent any more than thirty minutes with her. Actually, it was way more than thirty minutes, but do you know how many words I can write in thirty minutes? In excess of three thousand. Not kidding. I wrote 2,217 in a fifteen-minute span in February. Take up thirty minutes of my time and you’ve just cut my throat.

So piss off, I say.

Then there’s another one I just love. It’s people who announce to me what I’m going to do and what they’re going to do for me. Don’t misunderstand me: I appreciate help, any help I can get. I really do. Nobody appreciates it more than me. But have you ever had someone come to help you set up for a birthday party and it was obvious that they, for some reason, either thought it was an anniversary party, or they wanted it to be an anniversary party? Yeah, I’ve had that happen, maybe not literally, but you get the analogy. It’s like they couldn’t understand that my genre wasn’t auto mechanics or psychological self-help, and they either wanted to try to make it fit that pigeonhole or they insisted that I should so they could help me.

And before anyone says anything, understand, this does NOT apply to my street team. Those ladies get it and if they want to take the initiative to do something for me, I’ll bow at their feet and kiss their toes. Really. I’ll do anything they ask me to do. Some of them know a lot more about this business than I do. I’m depending on their expertise, and they know it. So thanks, Construction Crew. I owe you big time already.

Nope, I’m talking about the kind of people who come to me and let me know they’ve set me up with a five-day advertising stint with “Chicken Nuggets Are Us” or some equally unsuitable something. I had one insisting that I write poetry to include in their anthology. I tried to tell them twelve ways past Sunday that I don’t do poetry anymore. Oh, no, they weren’t having any of that. I should do this; it was going to be a best seller, and wouldn’t I be sorry if I wasn’t involved? No, I would not. I couldn’t convince this person of that, so I finally had to say something to the effect of, “Back off. Not gonna happen.” They took it hard, hard enough to stay away.

Mission accomplished.

And here’s another one I love: “We should work on a project together.”

Translation: “I have a project that I want to do but I have no earthly idea how to do it. So I want you to drop what you’re doing and come over here and do it for me, at least the bulk of it. I’ll put my name on it. Sound good? It should, because I’m brilliant and you’re lucky that I chose you to be the one to do this ‘joint project’ for me.”

Yeahhhhh, no. I’m done with that. I have my own damn joint projects to do with me, myself, and I. I don’t have time for that stuff, especially since it usually turns out to be a purely commercial venture for them, something that they plan to sell that will benefit them and them alone. Happens all the time. It’s usually something like, “I sell custom-built dog sleds. I have this great idea for a monthly tabloid for Iditarod racers and their dogs. It’ll have a subscription base of about thirty-seven racers and one hundred and fifty dogs. We’ll make a shit ton of money.”

Nope. Moving on.

These days I also get a lot of, “hello bb what are you doing? where ire you from? can we just be frends here? i have skype you wanna skype im a college student and I need to practice english it work best when i can see who i taking too so i see how word werk sond good?”

One of the most recent ones asked where I was. That’s on my profile. Then he wanted to know what I do for a living. Not only on my profile, but it’s on my damn Facebook banner, idiot. Then he wanted to know if I did my own research, to which I replied yes, of course. Then he wanted to know with whom I was open to doing research. I replied that I have my own research assistant who is not into sharing (damn it, but that’s another blog post entirely). The he asked if my profile pic was really me. Look, asshat, if I were going to use someone else’s picture, don’t you think I’d pick someone a whole lot more attractive than me? Really? Why would I go to the trouble to falsify a pic and then not at least go for Jessica Biel, or Cameron Diaz, or Jennifer Lopez, or someone like that. Catherine Zeta Jones, for god sake. But a pic of me? Good god. Not only have you creeped me out, you’ve insulted my intelligence. That will not get you research time with me, no it will not.

Unfriend. Block, block, block.

But here’s my absolute favorite. I’m in my office and my phone rings. There’s this familiar voice on the other end that says, “Hey, baby, take a break, wouldja? Come out back and sit on the swing with me? I made us a plate of cheese and crackers, and there’s a couple of beers out here too. Can’t you just spare me fifteen minutes? I miss your cute little face.” Think I’m about to say, “Just leave me be?”

Not a chance. See ya later. I’ve got some really, really important business to attend to.

My Reads: Suicide Ride: The Fix by Elizabeth Llewellyn

Today’s pick of the week is Elizabeth Llewellyn’s Suicide Ride: The Fix. It’s the follow-up to her Suicide Ride: The Platinum Man and what a follow-up it is.

We go back into the world of Norman Dimond, a man whose past fucked him over in more ways than one (literally). Sure, he looks like he owns the world, but he hurts, and he hurts in the worst possible way. But when Johnny Gellis enters his life, he thinks the panacea just may have arrived.

This book picks up exactly where The Platinum Man left off. Johnny is in the middle of a crisis, and it could be a fatal one. Norman takes care of that, and he begins to show Johnny his soft side, the side that’s crying out for someone to help him make the pain go away. Unfortunately, Johnny’s in the same predicament, but his idea of a salve is very different from Norman’s.

At the end of The Platinum Man, I had gotten some answers about some things I suspected, but I still had a lot of questions. I also had some darker suspicions, but they were too sordid for me to entertain. And guess what? My suspicions were correct. I found that horrifying and strangely satisfying (so what does that say about me?). And they explained everything, everything about Johnny that I hadn’t been able to figure out, everything about his parentage, and everything about his “condition,” if you will (I’m not into spoilers, so that’s all you’ll get from me on that subject). I was also treated to a confrontation that I’d been waiting to see, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Not to mention poor Drew. But that’s all I’m saying on that front.

But what I found, and what I absolutely adored, was that Elizabeth managed to weave all of this information in so seamlessly that I didn’t feel like it was information – I felt like I was privy to some deeply personal revelations that others weren’t allowed access to, like the characters had taken me aside and bared their souls. I was also was surprised that the one piece of information that had most informed Johnny’s person was the one thing about which he still had no clue. That just solidified all of my scattered angst toward the broken boy-man that he is.

So where am I now? Anxiously awaiting Suicide Ride: The Hit. If it’s anything like the previous two, it’ll be one helluva ride for sure. You had your chance in the first sentence: Pop back up there and hit the link to buy, buy, buy.

Hats off, Elizabeth. It was one sweet ride.

Bring it, Big 6 - we're ready and waiting

I’m pretty gullible, I’ll admit. You can pull a fast one on me pretty easily. Yes, often it's obvious that’s exactly what you’re doing, but I want to believe you wouldn’t do that to me. Stupid, I know, but there you have it.

So I had a very, very difficult time believing the crapola that I was fed by a recent article in the BookBub Bulletin (http://tinyurl.com/BigPubWoes). In case you haven’t heard about this, you should probably listen up. Why, you ask?

Because under the guise of “helping readers,” it appeared to me that big publishing had decided to take one of the few things we as indie authors have as a marketing tool and try to decimate us. So here it is.

They’ve started giving books away.

No shit. I never thought I’d see the day. Take, for instance, the one mentioned in the article, a huge giveaway of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code by mega-publisher Doubleday. They ran it right before the release of The Inferno. The free ebook even had the prologue and first chapter of The Inferno (sound familiar?). According to The New York Times, the giveaway is “part celebration and part marketing experiment.”

Sorry – I call bullshit. They prattle on about how ebooks are a full thirty percent more than hardbacks (exactly what planet is this taking place on?) because of formatting, etc. I’m not that stupid. I know exactly what it is.

They’ve been watching bestselling indie authors and they see what’s being done. And what’s being done is offering the first book in a series free to get the readers into the story line. I do it. You probably do it. We’ve been doing it for awhile. And up until now, big publishing would never, never even try that. To hear them tell it, giving away books would be the absolute wrong thing to do. So why the big change of, er, heart?

Because they’re feeling the squeeze. They’ve invested enormous amounts of money on hardback books and their business is failing. Their stables of bestselling authors are getting the rights to their catalogs back and republishing their older books themselves so they actually pocket some of the profit. They’ve almost fallen behind in marketing for ebooks. They’ve tried to charge so much for their ebooks that no one will buy them; readers will look for indie authors instead. So their idea to offset their losses in paper book sales is to give away some books, draw attention to new ones, and recoup their expenditures. Hey, it’s worked for us so why not take advantage?

So here are some predictions. I can’t wait to see what I’m right about.

First of all, brick and mortar stores are soon going to be no more. The ones that do survive will do so by offering service (a novel approach, pun intended), discounts on a wide assortment of in-stock and readily-available ereaders, and maybe even terminals/kiosks where readers can go to sample ebooks, then buy them immediately and have them downloaded to their ereaders. With the prices of their ebooks so high, they can’t hope to recoup the loss of the investment in the paper book trade. Besides, since they claim ebook production costs them thirty percent more than that of paperbacks (leaving me to assume they’re paying too much for their formatting and cover art), they’ll never recoup that loss anyway.

Second, we’re fast. We write our books over a course of months. (Unless we don’t give a shit, and then it takes about two weeks and we just slap it on a page. But that’s another post.) Once that book is written, it’s a very short time to publication. For them, it’s an agonizing process where the book passes numerous editors, many of whom have no idea what they’re doing and apparently barely speak English, a dozen or more cover concepts before one is chosen, and through probably two dozen departments, not to mention legal, before it finally, finally, hits the shelf. We can get more out there faster because we don’t have all the hoopla to put up with and hoops to jump through. And because of this slowness, well-known authors are choosing to become “hybrids,” taking a portion of their books straight into the self-publishing arena. There goes half of their talent. My message to them: Streamline or perish.

Third, our costs are comparatively minimal. The squeeze is being applied to them by indie self-publishing authors. We can now buy formatting just like the type they use, sometimes better. We can also hire cover artists to make personalized, specific covers, often for a series so it’s thematic. Our product is getting better (well, some of it anyway). And for the reduced prices at which we offer our ebooks, we’re getting a huge chunk of reading public and leaving them in the dust.

Fourth, putting us out of business would be a delight to them. They’re sick of us taking their sales and making them have to lower prices and work harder to sell product. They’re used to being the only game in town. Well, move over, big publishing. We can do what you do and do it even better, faster, and cheaper, so we can offer our work to a larger audience. Yeah, that’s what they think we’re doing when, in reality, we’re just trying to stay afloat like everyone else. It’s not personal against them for us. Okay, well, maybe it is for a few authors who’ve been screwed over by publishers, but for the majority, it has nothing to do with them and everything to do with trying to get the story out there.

I can't fault them, really. When his street team was accused of "spying" and "stealing ideas," one author on Facebook was very clear about it. In his mind, there was no thievery going on; they were simply doing what any prudent business does, watching what's working in the market and duplicating it. That's been going on forever. Otherwise, there'd only be one commercial on television and one ad in the newspaper. There'd only be one telemarketer (oh, I can dream, can't I?). It's not stealing. It's called learning and applying what you've learned. And big publishing is doing just that.

And so, indie authors, I’ve got one word for you: Work. Work like you’ve never worked before. Look at your prices and see where you can cut corners on publication. Get busy and write the rest of that series you’ve started so your readers don’t have to wait so long. Most of all, get to know your readers. Stop publishing a book and then just sitting back and waiting for the money to roll in. It won’t. You have to work at it. And if you’re not willing to, for the love of god, don’t publish your damn book. Keep it out of the market so the ones of us who are really trying to do a good job don’t get lost in your deluge of stagnating work. We’d really, really appreciate that.

Sorry, big publishing. We’re not going away. So here’s my warning to you, and you’d do well to heed it. It’s two simple words. Believe them when I say them.

Game on.