Day 4: You Gotta Hustle

"In marketing, you must choose between boredom, shouting, and seduction.  Which do you want?" -Roy H. William


So, I've written a book. 

Now what?

Much as you may love and appreciate their support, you can't build a career on the (let's face it) charity of friends and family.  At some point, you're going to need people- lots of people, people you don't know- to buy your book.  And your next book.  And maybe the one after that.

Fact is, you're gonna have to hustle, baby.

I started my marketing campaign long before I published my first book.  How is this possible, you ask?  Don't you need something to market first, you ask?  Yes.  And I had something to market.

Myself.

I realize that sounds skeezy, dirty, and vaguely criminal, but hear me out.  My writing reflects, to a large extent, myself.  My personality.  My voice.  My sense of humor.  My outlook on the world.  Even under the guise of fictional characters and an invented storyline, all these things filter through.  Ergo, marketing my personality, voice, sense of humor, and outlook on the world makes perfect sense.

I plan on writing more than one book.  More than two.  More than three.  When I'm marketing myself, and not just my work, I'm marketing not only my current book, but all the books I have yet to write. 

I know.  Brilliant.

So what are you doing to market yourself?  Are you?  Does your marketing strategy revolve solely around putting up links to websites that feature your work?  There's nothing wrong with that sometimes, but if that's all you're doing, you're missing the boat.  People start to ignore you after a while.  

Don't give them the chance.  Be funny.  Be interesting.  Be charming.  If you're none of those things in real life, make that part of your unique persona.  Or lie.  You're a writer.  Think of something.

In the end, marketing isn't about selling a product.  And contrary to what I've just written, it's not even about selling yourself.  At least, not entirely.  Above all, you're selling a story- about yourself, about people, about the world.  In my stories, men are men, women are awesome, life is hard, and love is real.  

What's your story?  Find out, and you'll find how to market it.

Miss A Day Or Two?
Day 1: Lessons From The Cave
Day 2: Set Your Compass
Day 3: Don't Schedule, Manage

 Excerpt from All That Glitters:

 

Greenish-gray water closed around her.  The cold bit easily through her suit, nearly knocking the wind out of her.  The weight-belt around her waist dragged her downward.  She tried to get her bearings, but couldn’t even see her hand in front of her.

She sucked in another breath, her regulator echoing in her head.  She would not panic.  She could do this.  She felt around her until her hands found the vacuum hose.  Hand over hand, she followed it to the bottom.

The rocks under her feet made her feel a little better.  She bent down close to the sea floor and shuffled some sediment aside.  A dim smattering of yellow caught her eye. Inside her mask, Ava smiled.  She planted one hand over it to mark her place and hauled the ungainly hose closer.  

With a final, determined yank, it slithered over where she wanted it.  It was heavier than she expected.  Before she had time to react,the vacuum sucked up the tip of her dive glove. In a split second, the rest of her arm disappeared into the hose.

Ava screamed into her mask, but she knew no one could hear her.  The tendons in her shoulder stretched as she fought to free herself. She clenched her teeth against the tears in her eyes.  She didn’t want to die like this: alone.  Cold. In the dark.

###

 Available for purchase on Smashwords and Amazon 

 

Day 3: Don't Schedule, Manage

“I write when I’m inspired, and I see to it that I’m inspired to write at 9 o’clock every morning.” -Peter De Vries

In this world, there are people who keep to a schedule, and there are people who wing it.  I am decidedly the latter.

I am atrocious at keeping to a schedule.  I always have been.  For the most part, I think our collective obsession with schedules is vastly overrated.  Maybe that's just self-justification.  

The one area where I've run into troubles with my wing-it ways is with my writing.  I am notoriously bad at time management.  Especially with a young son and domestic duties to attend to, there are days- okay, weeks- when things don't get done.  Lots of things.  Laundry.  Dinner.  Vacuuming.  When those things get done, my writing falls by the wayside.  Clearly, something has to change. 

Below I've compiled a few of my best time management tips.  Some of them are fairly conventional, others, not so much.  Who knows?  Maybe with my next book, I'll even manage to follow them...

1) Know what you have to do.  I am never so efficient as when I make to-do lists.  With all the things I have to do on a daily basis, the odds of me remembering everything are slim to none.  I even put nice little boxes next to them, so I can check them off as I finish them.  It's good for morale.

2) Don't over-commit yourself.  Especially as I've gotten to know more and more people via Twitter and Facebook, I've gotten more and more requests to participate in various things.  The sad fact is, I simply can't.  No matter how much I adore the people who ask me, or how flattered I am at being included,  I almost always decline.  I'm writing a book, I have a toddler, and dinner is in three hours.  Anything more just isn't possible.

3) Ask for help.  As my husband reminded me recently, he can't know how busy I am unless I tell him.  If I can't get the grocery shopping done one day, I let him know.  If I need him to field dinner one night (or six), I say so.  I'm lucky enough to have a husband who really is my partner.  Even if you're single, reach out and let people know what you need: time, space, meals, whatever.  You may be surprised how much people will come through for you.

4) Be realistic.  Sometimes, certain things will take precedence over others.  A sick child always trumps writing.  Occasionally, my family wants to spend time with me, so my writing sits on the back burner for a day or two.  That's okay.  Conversely, when I'm in the heat of creation, or the throes of editing, there are many nights when we eat takeout.  I like to think these things all balance each other out in the long run.

Miss A Day Or Two?

Day 1: Lessons From The Cave

Day 2: Set Your Compass     

Excerpt from All That Glitters: 

Ethan laid a confident, possessive hand on the small of Ava’s back.  She jolted.  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“We have an audience.” Ethan kept his voice light.  “Just act casual.  If they think you’re with me, they’ll leave you alone.”

Ava snorted.  “Great.”

Ethan could feel her tension under his hand.  And her warmth.  His fingers flexed.  “Relax. I don’t bite.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

He chuckled. “Relax.”  He eased her closer to him until she was pressed against his side. His thumb traced a lazy half-circle against her back, his fingers grazed her hip.  He allowed himself a tiny smile when he felt her breath hitch.  He could get used to this.

Ava couldn’t tell if he was torturing her on purpose.  “Is he gone?” Her voice sounded strained even to her.

“Left a few minutes ago.”

She bit back a curse and jerked away from him.  Asshole. She debated slapping the teasing grin off his face, decided to make her escape instead.  She walked faster,irritated at how effortlessly he kept up.

Ethan did his best not to laugh.  Damn if she wasn’t cute when she was pissed.  “Easy, sweetheart, I was kidding.”  He reached out and caught her wrist.  “Come on.  Why don’t you let me get you a proper drink?”  His eyes twinkled.  “After all, I’ve already seen your panties.”

### 

Available for purchase on Smashwords and Amazon  

Day 2: Set Your Compass

  

“Anyone can become a writer. The trick is staying a writer.” -Harlan Ellison


For anyone who's been reading on here long enough, it's no secret: prior to All That Glitters, I had never finished a piece of writing.  I'd started plenty, always with high hopes, but at a certain point they always petered out on me.  Sometimes it happened sooner, sometimes later, but that was the way of things.

So what made this time different?

I've been thinking about that question.  And I've only been able to come up with one answer: this time, I got serious.

Writing has always been my hobby.  Ever since I was a kid, I was "the writer".  Everybody saw me that way, from my teachers, to my parents, to my classmates.  Everybody, it seems, except me.  I wasn't a writer; I wrote.  It was different.  Eventually, I would have to grow up and get a job like everyone else. 

I went through the motions and got through high school, always writing, always trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.  I hated college.  I still haven't finished.  I always had the sense that I was meant to do something else, that I wasn't going to get where I wanted by going to school.  I attended half-heartedly, taking extended breaks and skipping class in favor of- you guessed it- writing.  Still, it never occurred to me to consider writing as a career.

Then I found out I was pregnant.

As anyone who has experienced this knows, news like that changes you forever.  It's a massive paradigm shift.  My husband and I had intended to have children, but not quite so soon.  We were convinced we weren't ready- not financially, not emotionally, not at all.  Looking back, this is kind of funny.  I mean, really, who is ever ready to have kids?

I had to reevaluate what I was doing.  All of a sudden, the time for puttering was over.  I had nine months to get my shit together.  I had to grow up.  I had to pick a direction.  

Finally, I took a serious look at writing.  I wanted to work from home.  I didn't want to go back to school- not that I was going to have much time for it, anyway.  Writing would accommodate both those things, with the added benefit of being something I loved to do.  

I started my novel a little over a year ago now.  My son was three months old.  I wrote the majority of the first draft while he nursed in my lap.  That's the thing about me.  When I don't have a goal in mind, I'm as shiftless as the wind.  But give me a direction, and I'm a bulldog.

Archimedes described it best: "Give me a place to stand, and I will move the world."

Miss A Day Or Two?
Day 1: Lessons From The Cave

Excerpt from All That Glitters: 

Ava found herself corralled deeper and deeper into the alley.  Her eyes darted back and forth.  “Not interested.”

The man grinned.  “Hear that, Jerome?  She’s not interested.”

The second man laughed. “I’m sure we can change her mind.”

Behind the group, Ava noticed another man watching them.  A glimmer of hope flickered in the back of her mind.  When he realized she’d seen him, however, he ducked his head and melted back into the bar.

Ava’s heart sank.  She forced down the panic building in her chest and fisted her hands.  This wasn’t the first time she’d been outnumbered in a fight.  If they expected her to go down easily, they were in for a surprise.

She backed into something solid.  And warm. Before she could react, Ethan tucked her behind him.  His voice was so low it was nearly a growl.

        “Fuck off, Bobby.”

###

Available for purchase on Smashwords and Amazon  

Day 1: Lessons From The Cave

“Whatever you may have heard, self-publishing is not a short cut to anything. Except maybe insanity." -Zoe Winters

Whew!  It's been a hell of a few weeks.

All That Glitters is officially out in the world.  The amount of work that went into making that happen is staggering.  Self-publishing is definitely not taking the easy way out.  If anything, it's taking the long road.  In addition to the writing, there's the editing, the cover art, the getting it out to reviewers, the marketing.  Dear god, the marketing.

Throughout all the craziness, there have been points of sanity.  I've discovered I have more friends than I previously realized.  I've come into my own as a businesswoman.   I've uncovered talents, strength, and drive I never knew I had.   It may have been a hell of a few weeks, but they've been some of the best of my life.

I was thinking about what I wanted to do on here for Launch Week, when it struck me.  All the things I've learned throughout this process, other people are just starting to figure out.  I've had so many allies and mentors while on this road.  I've gotten so much good advice.  I've accrued a decent amount of experience.

Why not share all that?

This week on Writing In The Night is for you guys.  It's for anyone out there contemplating doing what I did.  Every day, I'll give you a new post on something I've learned through this process.  As Ernest Hemingway so (in)famously said, "Writers must stick together, like beggars and thieves."  Especially for those of us taking the self-publishing road, if we're not going to help each other out, who will?

Additionally, you will find a short excerpt from my book at the end of each post.  You can buy the whole thing on either Amazon or Smashwords, but I wanted to include a few freebies here.  Consider it a "thank-you" for the endless encouragement and support.

Hooray!  It's Launch Week!   

Excerpt from All That Glitters:

Ethan stood on the gold dredge- his gold dredge, he reminded himself- and watched water and sediment flow through the heavy box in the middle of the deck.  He closed his eyes and imagined the inside, imagined the gold trapped in the heavy sludge.  His chest tightened with pride.  It had been a long winter, and an even longer few years, but he'd finally done it.

The Lucille was his.

He’d been an outsider long enough.  He was through constantly proving and reproving himself.  Nome was his home now, the first he’d ever had.  He was ready to claim a permanent place here.  Now, at last, he had his chance.

His mind drifted to the woman he’d met on the dock.  Ava Faraday.  Everything about her warned people to back off.  Her clothes were all black leather and faded denim, her only adornment a silver and turquoise ring, the kind sold in gas stations across the Southwest.  Her expression was cold, and she carried herself like she was ready for a fight.  Even her beauty had sharp edges.  Her long ebony hair was cut like a razor blade.  Her face was sharp and fine.

But her eyes.  A milky green, they betrayed an air of vulnerability she seemed desperate to hide.

Ethan rubbed a hand over the stubble roughening his chin.  There was more to her than she wanted to let on.  He was too much of a gentleman to mention it, but he’d felt her pulse quicken when they touched.  What could she possibly be doing up here?  Nome, Alaska hardly seemed a likely first choice for someone like her.

This was a fascinating development.

###

Available for purchase on Smashwords and Amazon 

  

Into The Breach, Meatbags...

 
Happy Launch Day, everyone!  All That Glitters is now available for purchase on Amazon, as well as in multiple formats on Smashwords.  

Thank you all for your love and support.  I can honestly say I couldn't have done this without you!  Enjoy!

Ava Faraday has spent her life running- from love, from her past, from herself. Now she has only one place left to go: home.  She arrives in Nome, Alaska determined to make a fresh start.  With no other options available, she joins the crew of her estranged father's dredge, and does her best to learn her new- and dangerous- job before she dies trying.  The last thing she needs is to fall in love.

Gold dredger Ethan Calhoun has struggled to put the ghosts of his own troubled past to rest.  After five long years as an outsider in Nome, he's finally made good.   When Ava comes to town, she stirs up feelings in him he can't control, and isn't sure he wants to.  The closer they become, the more Ethan wonders: will those feelings destroy everything he's worked for? 

In Nome's dredging community, loyalties change, and trust is anything but guaranteed. When they are faced with a common threat, Ethan and Ava realize they must work together to survive.  Can two lifelong runners trust each other?  Can they convince each other- and themselves- that love is worth the risk?

Excerpt from All That Glitters

Even her suitcase was conspiring to make her life hell.

Ava Faraday stared down at the jumbled mess of clothes at her feet.  Then she glared at the now-useless latch on her weathered carry-on.  Who had ever heard of a suitcase lock springing open like that?

She fought back the hysterical, helpless laughter that threatened to bubble out of her.  She hadn’t even been back in Nome for a full day, and already things were going sideways.  Flashing her underwear collection to half the town’s male population was hardly the homecoming she’d had in mind.

With as much dignity as she could muster, Ava began collecting her clothes.  It was all she could do to ignore the wagging eyebrows and not-so-subtle whistles from the men working the docks around her.  What the hell was she doing here?  It had been years since she’d considered coming back.  She’d convinced herself there was no point; everything she wanted lay in front of her, not behind.

Ava swiped a strand of black hair from her eyes.  It was that damn letter.

She hadn’t been surprised to find out her father was in trouble.  She couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t needed to borrow money from someone or the other.  And she hadn’t really cared.  Lord knew she didn’t owe him anything.

Yet here she was, in a place she didn’t know anymore, looking for a man she wasn’t even sure she’d recognize.  Something about that letter had drawn her back.  Maybe it was the tone.  Maybe it was the memories it conjured up.  Not all of them were bad.

Then again, maybe she was just out of places to run to.

Ava straightened and looked around her.  The piercing blue of the water in the harbor bled into the horizon.  The sky was nearly black with guillemots, their blood red feet flashing as they looped and dove.  She’d never quite gotten over leaving this place.  She carried it all with her, in the faintly native shadows of her face, in the darker recesses of her soul.  She’d left too suddenly, and she’d always felt like there was a piece of her inadvertently left behind.

Now was her chance to find it.  When she did, she'd finally be able to leave Nome for good.

Ava shoved the last of her possessions back into her suitcase and took a brief visual inventory.  It looked like everything was-

Wait.

Her cheeks reddened.  She tried to seem nonchalant as she looked around.  Of all the things to be missing…

“Lose something?”

Ava froze.  The deep, honeyed drawl reverberated through her.  She hadn’t known it was possible to actually feel someone’s voice.  Her nerve endings hummed.  She stood, and found herself eye level with the finest chest she’d ever seen.  She swallowed hard against the irritating flutter in her stomach, and looked up.  A pair of bright gray eyes twinkled back down at her.

The man was built like someone who worked for a living, broad and strong.  Under his weathered baseball cap, his sandy blond hair was slightly shaggier than was strictly respectable.  His face looked like it had been chiseled out of the same granite as the breakers in the harbor, and his lips-

Ava tore her gaze away from his lips, but not before she caught the edges twitch.  Heat flooded her face.  She opened her mouth to speak, when a flash of red caught her eye.

Dangling from one of the man’s long, perfect fingers was a pair of red lace panties.

“I’m afraid these aren’t really my color.”

### 

Available for purchase on Smashwords and Amazon

Thursday's Children Blog Hop: The Luck Of The Draw

Just a short post today.  I'm getting ready for the official launch of my book this Friday.  So much to do!  So many last-minute loose ends to tie off!  But I wanted to share this:


Doesn't that perfectly describe the writer's soul?  The yearning at the heart of the creative impulse.  The repetition of the daily grind.  The terrifying gamble of releasing what we've created into the world.

"Write our fire in the sky"- I don't know about you guys, but that about captures the reason I do this.

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All Hail Burlesque Wednesday!

Happy Burlesque Wednesday, everyone!

Just so you all know, the hotness is scheduled to take a break next week. I'm putting together a special blog series in honor of my book launch this Friday! I hope you'll stop by anyway. It's going to be epic.

For now, though, here's something to enjoy with your coffee...