Archive for the ‘Storytelling’ Category

What’s the Best Promotion for an Indie Writer?

March 21, 2013

Young Woman REading
You’d like to convince readers to buy your book and take it with them everywhere. You’d also like them to say good things about what you’ve written, so others will try it. The question is how?   Photo/POND.5

Social Media Helps
As an indie writer, you may have written an absolutely stunning book. But without a personal PR staff, how does anyone find out about it?

A website; an active blog; social media like Twitter or Facebook and others (and I don’t mean to slight anyone by not mentioning them all) are good ways for an indie author to become known.

But the importance of personal promotion for a writer can’t be over-emphasized, and certainly not if you’re an indie, with no publishing machine behind you.

Readers want a relationship with their authors, as in “His/her work really speaks to me.”

There are some readers who get a thrill out of purchasing a book the author autographs right in front of them. Still others just want to know the author is really “a regular joe” or, to be politically correct, “a regular jane” … someone not all that different from them.

But in the end, people buy books pretty much like you and I buy books: based on the quality of the author’s work.

So, now that you’ve written that book, how do you become a household name? Or at least one that people who regularly buy books become interested in following?

Personality Sells Books
Think of it this way: people know about cars by the incredible volume of advertising they see and hear, but it’s often the recommendation of a friend that actually seals the deal.

As an indie you are basically an unknown quantity and, like so many other things, people are more likely to be loyal to authors they, or someone they’re acquainted with, know something about.

If you have an unlimited advertising budget for your indie book, you probably don’t even need to finish reading this.

If, however, you’re a lot like me and won’t be buying commercials at any time during the NCAA “March Madness” Basketball Tournament, to sell your book you need to personally talk to people.

Talking to People
I talk about my book everywhere. I talk about it to perfect strangers waiting in line at the grocery store, bring it up at social events, talk to neighbors, share it with members of the congregation after services. I even gave my business card to a local fast-food manager.

My darling bride often cringes when I bring up my books to complete strangers. But I believe the most successful mode of promotion is a personal one. Potential readers who meet, or have met, you in person are more apt to buy your book. If they meet you and like you, so much the better (so try to be friendly).

Any indie author who decides not to pursue the personal approach when promoting their book is an author who probably won’t sell very many.

But you have be careful, just as you do in social media venues. There’s a fine line between promotion and in-person spamming.

So What’s the Promotion Recipe?
Whatever you do, don’t blatantly sell. You just have to let people know you write (if you can work it into the conversation), and answer any questions they may have.

Hone Your Speaking Skills. If your book is fiction, poetry or a children’s book, consider getting involved in a storytelling group.

Create Speaking Opportunities.
Approach organizations, libraries or schools and ask to be placed on their program agenda. Grade schools love to have children’s book authors do a reading for their classes. Many high schools enjoy local authors talking to their senior writing classes. Program directors for many civic organizations are often on the lookout for interesting speakers.

Book Signings Are Not Passé. It’s true the average author doesn’t generally attract many people to a bookstore signing. However, try being creative. Set up a booth at a wine festival or a flea market … places you might not normally find book-sellers. You might get quite an audience if you do a book signing at a busy coffee house.

Speak at Conferences. This might take a little more work since, as a rule, conference organizers do not ordinarily come looking for you, especially at first. So seek out opportunities. If you have a specialty to talk about, or a particularly well-received book, giving a presentation at a local writing conference can give your sales a nice boost.

The common denominator for achieving success in all of these efforts is personal contact. Oh, and there is one other thing. Be sure you first write a good book.

Then go out and meet your readers.

Pursuit of the Dreamcatcher

March 11, 2013

Dreamcatchers are a fascinating Native American tradition. Intended to protect sleeping individuals, positive dreams slip through, while negative dreams get caught in the web to expire with the first rays of the sun.
      ~ Photo courtesy Nicolas Moulin

Positive or Negative Dreams
One of the comments I came across not too long ago in my indie-publishing research really stuck with me. I believe it was Mark Coker, the founder of Smashwords, who said it:

“In the self-publishing gold rush, more money will be made in author services than in book sales.”

What does that mean?

Well, put quite simply, it means the folks that are selling services to help you indie-publish are probably going to make a helluva lot more money than you are.

I’ve had a very modest success with indie publishing, which I hope is due more to book quality (see the press release containing my latest book review) than any marketing effort on my part or, for that matter, which service platform I used.

I’m locally known for doing my own e-Book conversions and for researching the tsunami of new services that promise to help indie authors self-publish. I was even asked to give a presentation on self-publishing options at the Rochester Writers Conference at Oakland University last fall.

The Dreamcatcher Mystique
What did I discover? It’s sad but true, Mark Coker was right. The vast majority of even traditionally published authors rarely sell more than five thousand copies of a book.

While there are exceptions (there are always exceptions) the odds of an indie writer-publisher selling even that meager amount of fiction is a significant longshot.

Still, we keep trying, don’t we?

I attribute that to the dreamcatcher mystique of publishing. We all want to be the next fabulous discovery. The next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling. Or even better, one of the indie-famous … like Amanda Hocking, John Locke (the self-published author, not the “Lost” TV-series character) or J.A. Konrath.

Who wouldn’t want to live that positive dream? But given the new multitude of services that promise to help an indie writer get to that Nirvana, where do you go for help?

The Results of All That Research
There are good single-channel, retailer-driven services, like Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing, CreateSpace or Barnes & Noble PubIt!

You will also find (presuming you’re looking) good multiple-channel distribution services like Smashwords or BookBaby that often include some kind of formatting and conversion service. Along with the newer Apple iBooks Author (which I am just now researching) these are some of the best services.

If you’re like me and determined to do most of it, if not all of it yourself, these are the ebook conversion services I have used to date:

J-Edit, a free, open source program to convert my Word manuscript to an HTML file; and Calibre, another open source (free) program to convert that HTML file to the proper MOBI and EPUB files required for Amazon and other e-Book uploads.

Sigil is another multi-platform EPUB ebook editor that I’ve heard tons of good things about, but have not tried yet myself.

That’s it. Are these all of the services that are available? Not by a long shot. But they work for me.

When all is said and done, however, the hardest part … the very hardest part … is getting someone to notice your book. I’m talking about that most dreaded of “M” words … Marketing.

Now that spring is around the corner, I’m getting ready to launch a serious word-of-mouth campaign, starting with schools, book clubs, book fairs and possibly book stores. I’ll let you know some of the details as they come together, and will report on the success (or failure) of each of them.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my lovely bride is asking me to get off the computer again. As much as I want to stay and see what the dreamcatcher has snared, I think she’s found a shorter pier for me to take my long walks on.

Or maybe she’s just calling me to breakfast.

Universal Balance, Indie Publishing and a Tease

March 7, 2013

“Winter Beach” – blog and story © R.L. Herron

UNIVERSAL BALANCE
I read a lot. I guess I’ve said that about myself before and it sounds like self aggrandizement, even to me. But it’s true.

My reading speed with excellent comprehension is well over 1200 words a minute (sorry, Evelyn Wood Reading Dynamics, I don’t need you).

There isn’t a day that goes by I don’t read my share of things. Newspapers (plural), magazines, books, letters, websites, email and blogs. Probably more than my share.

I’m sure there’s someone, somewhere, who didn’t have enough time to read today because I spent so much time doing it (I do apologize … I just can’t help it).

Why am certain? Call it karma, or providence, but I have this idea it’s somehow all about universal balance.

Well, all this reading leads to thinking, which leads me to ideas … and since my ideas often get hopelessly entangled in the emotional side of relatively mundane, often impractical things, I occasionally rant … or at least mutter about them under my breath.

My long-suffering wife has learned to deal with it by telling me to take a long walk. She often includes a comment about a short pier, but in the end I’m usually still muttering.

In the winter I think she takes pity on me. To get rid of me for a while she doesn’t send me out in the cold, she suggests I write some more on one of my stories or my blog.

Just last evening she suggested I write another book.

Since this would be in addition to the one I’m already working on, she obviously wasn’t satisified my mumbling had been sufficiently muffled by the bitterly cold walk I already took (or maybe she was upset the pier was too long).

In any event, I took her advice, gravitated again to the keyboard and now it’s you, Dear Reader, who has to deal with my thoughts.

That could be a good thing. It all depends on how you look at it.

INDIE PUBLISHING
As you know if you’ve been here before, I’ve been thinking about indie publishing a lot lately, because I’ve done so much of it this past year.

I brought out three books and had one of them become an award winner (you can’t see my broad grin but, trust me, it’s there).

I’m also working on book Number Four while trying to figure out how to market the ones I’ve already written, so I research incessantly. When I’m doing that, my wife wishes I would get off the computer.

If that sounds in direct opposition to her admonition to ‘go write’ you’ll understand why I’ve come to the conclusion I’ll never really figure her out, even though I’ve been trying for almost 43 years.

SAMPLE
That leaves only the “tease” I promised (an excerpt from the sequel to Reichold Street – unnamed as yet – that I hope to have out later this summer).

To set the stage: Randy and Donnie are brothers who grew up on Reichold Street. They are only secondary characters in this book, but will intereact with the main protagonist.

Both were wounded in a drive-by shooting (in the first book) and Donnie, a promising, talented writer, lost his wonderful ability with words. Shortly after that, they lost their mother to cancer … and now, fifteen years later, they’ve also lost their father.

This is written from the perspective of Randy, the oldest brother:

We made the ride out to Cloverlawn in silence. The cortège was a great long one; one of the longest I’ve ever seen. I failed to understand how Dad seemed so beloved by so many people in Brickdale. I had met most of his friends. There weren’t many.

My brother and I rode alone in the car behind the hearse, silent for the journey’s duration because Donnie made it clear he didn’t want to talk. So we sat there in black suits looking like two dressed statues made of stone. We didn’t even speak to the driver.

We made the long, slow turn near the woods Mom loved. As we entered the cemetery, I spied the first of the apple trees near her plot. It was far too early for Mom’s favorite blue Caryopteris to be in bloom, or for there to be ripe apples on the ground under the trees, but the twisted, gnarled old trunks showed plenty of promise with their blooms.

I stepped out of the car and the apple blossom scent, mingled with the damp musk from the woods, reminded me again how much my parents had enjoyed the area. They’d spent a lot of time looking for homes there. Years. It was, by itself, a good memory. They had always been happy in that patient search, although it had been fruitless. They never left behind the rusty, diesel smell of Brickdale.

For a moment I watched the long string of cars queue up behind us. Then I caught sight of the tent that stood over the dark maw in the earth next to my mother’s grave. Seeing the hole where we would bury Dad darkened my already somber mood.

Donnie was crying.

I honestly don’t remember the words the pastor said at the gravesite. I do recall saying the Lord’s Prayer aloud with the other mourners, but even that memory is vague. I felt faraway and detached as I watched Donnie throw a handful of dirt into the grave while the coffin was lowered into its concrete vault.

People started to leave, but Donnie and I sat on a pair of folding chairs and watched until the workmen had filled the hole completely. We were alone then, except for the driver from the funeral parlor, who kept looking at his watch as if we were keeping him from an appointment.

When I finally stood to go, the driver’s sigh was an audible, palpable thing. “C’mon, Donnie,” I said, “there’s nothing left to do here.”

Silence filled the back seat of the limo again until we were almost home. That was when Donnie quit staring out the side window and looked across the seat at me. “I should write about this someday,” he said.

Donnie turned back and stared out the window, while his hand held an imaginary pen and drew tiny figures in the air.

Then it was my turn to cry.

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Read this AMAZING review for my novel “REICHOLD STREET”
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