I have told readers many times that word of mouth is the best advertising an author could ever hope for. Have you read a good book lately? Tell your friends about it! An author will thank you.
Thank you, Cashmere!
Named Best Romance Novel on Kindle
I have told readers many times that word of mouth is the best advertising an author could ever hope for. Have you read a good book lately? Tell your friends about it! An author will thank you.
Thank you, Cashmere!
5-star Review from Amy's Book World
I happened to search His Wife for a While on Google today and discovered a review of my book on a blog called Amy's Book World. She had written the review on Dec. 29, 2011 (my youngest son's birthday) and she had some very nice things to say:
"I love the author's writing. It flows very well and you are able to
easily keep up with the story. I loved reading this story. I couldn't
put it down. I truly loved this book. It is a great love story that
shows even if you have a terrible past, it doesn't have to define you.
You can grow and move forward from it. I have no negative things to say
about this book. Well written and a joy to read. Great book"
Amy and her review made me very happy. So...thanks, Amy!
"I love the author's writing. It flows very well and you are able to
easily keep up with the story. I loved reading this story. I couldn't
put it down. I truly loved this book. It is a great love story that
shows even if you have a terrible past, it doesn't have to define you.
You can grow and move forward from it. I have no negative things to say
about this book. Well written and a joy to read. Great book"Amy and her review made me very happy. So...thanks, Amy!
Mrs. So-Got-It-Wrong Agent
Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Prue Batten to my blog. This is her story from Indie Chicks: 25 Independent Women, 25 Personal Stories.
Mrs.
So-Got-It-Wrong Agent
by Prue Batten
After writing forever, I decided to finally
go down the independent road in 2008. At that time, it was called
self-publishing and the track I decided to take was POD. Part of my reason for
the move was that my books had been declared commercially viable by the UK
literary consultancy that assessed them, but in every instance they were
declined by the Big Six.
The only time I had any sort of meaningful
comment prior to POD publication was from a highly regarded English agent who said
she loved the novels and knew she would kick herself for declining but felt I
lived too far away to engage with. I know I reside in the southern hemisphere,
in a place called Australia, but this is a new world in which we exist. Amazingly there is a thing
called email, something else called Skype and even video-conferencing, so I was
rather gobsmacked at her antiquated approach. This, I felt, was the time to
take my destiny in my own hands!
You see, I was getting older and with age
comes a degree of intransigence and that was when I took up the POD offer…
basically in a fit of disgust at the ‘old ways’.
I did everything right: good covers, great
PR, super website and then a blog with which to engage with the reading public,
even radio and print media interviews… you name it, I did it. Book Two came out
and I continued to sell to a niche market online and in stores. At one point,
my first novel took the prime display position in bricks and mortar stores,
selling more than any other unknown first release for that chain.
Then, whilst working on A Thousand Glass
Flowers, I had the misguided idea that it would be nice to secure an agent who
could handle all this PR and marketing stuff and maybe help me push the barrow
further. With the success of the first two novels under my belt, with stats of
web and blog hits as well, I contacted the first Australian agent on my list.
Imagine my surprise when two days later, on
a Friday afternoon, she rang me to talk business.
Her first comment after a loud monologue on
her credentials was ‘Why in the hell did you POD your first two books?’ Ironic snicker followed this acid question.
‘Because I was tired of submitting the old
way and getting nowhere in a very long time.
‘But you’ve signed your own death warrant.’
‘Then why are you talking to me?’
‘I am intrigued that you managed to get the
web hits and the book-sales you have.’
Her tone was sarcasm incarnate. Something about good books and hard work was on
the tip of my tongue.
I was so flummoxed at this point that I
allowed her to ram-raid me and roast me. Heaven help me, I agreed to send her
mss of the first two novels (even though they had been published!) Perhaps I am a masochist. Who knows?
She read them and sent them back slashed to
pieces. These were fantasy novels about love, loss, grief and revenge, novels
that have secured 5 star reviews. She had deleted every conceivable piece of
emotion from the manuscripts so that they expressed nothing. If she read them
right through, I’d have been surprised as she asked elementary questions about
the plot resolution… questions that were answered in the denouement of each of
the novels. Her editing was unbelievable, her spelling appalling and she got my
name and address wrong for the return of the mss. Now remember… this is supposedly
one of the top agents in my country,
top obviously not equating with manners and sensibility.
When I rang her to say politely, thanks but
no thanks, she lambasted me and said, ‘You are a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Small-time.’
My reply was that if she had taken me on, what a good talking point she would have had
about her exciting new author. As it was, I continued, I was declining any
further involvement with her as my books were out there and selling.
‘You have committed professional suicide.’
***
In the last three years, this agent is the
only negative in my writing career and far from depressing me, it proved to be
the biggest shot of tenacity in the arm! Reverse psychology at its very best!
So guess what, Mrs. So Got it Wrong Agent,
I’m having a ball. The books are now in e-form and selling well. My third novel
consistently took a place in the Top 100 of Kindle novels in its category not
long after publication. I’ve sold across the globe, I have a niche following,
I’ve made the friends of a lifetime and I am master of my own destiny. There
are two further books to be published in The
Chronicles of Eirie and in a step sideways, my first ever historical
fiction will be published in February.
And at this point in my life, I don’t
regret not having an agent one bit!
***
Addendum: Whilst writing this piece for the anthology, I nursed my little
muse, the dog who would jump up behind me on my chair and sit whilst I typed.
He had terminal cancer and in the intervening time between publication of the
anthology and the posting of my piece on these blogs, he has gone quietly to
his rest… a brave, funny companion who was my inspiration. I dedicate the above
tale to him… to Milo.
Website: http://www.pruebatten.com
Facebook: Prue Batten
Twitter: Prue Batten
Books may be purchased at: Amazon.co.uk http://amzn.to/v2mosZ
And at Amazon.com http://amzn.to/rHBVoy
Return of the Runaway Bride, Kindle Best-seller!
From Amazon Kindle's Top 100 List of best-selling ebooks:
Kindle Movers & Shakers List #1!
I had to take a screen shot of this as it may never happen again and I wanted proof that my book, Return of the Runaway Bride, actually made it to #1. *beaming smile*
Return of the Runaway Bride FREE
Amazon US Kindle Store
Amazon UK Kindle Store
Check back soon for other great giveaways. Better yet, follow my blog by inputting your e-mail address in the box located in the right hand column, or send your e-mail to me at DonnaFaz (at) Comcast (dot) net and I'll keep you alerted to any new freebies. Happy reading!
I Burned My Bra For This? One Woman's Fantasy
Today, I welcome fellow Indie Chick Cheryl Shireman to my blog. Take it away, Cheryl!
~ ~ ~
I Burned My Bra For This? One Woman's Fantasy
By Cheryl Shireman
I’m a Baby Boomer. Which means that I remember
bell-bottoms, Happy Days, and having only three channels on the television. I
played Donny Osmond albums on a record player. My parents watched Gunsmoke, and
on Sunday nights we all watched The Wonderful World of Disney. In the living
room. Together. On the only television we owned. Imagine that! I remember the
first time I saw Bonanza in color. I remember the first time I heard about
remote controls for televisions. The whole idea seemed ridiculous. With three
channels, really, how often would it be needed? I remember the Watergate
hearings playing on the television when I came home from school.
I also remember watching feminists (does anyone use
that word anymore?) burn their bras and march for equal rights. I grew up
believing that a woman deserves equal pay for equal work and that a woman is
not defined by the man she marries or by the children she gives birth to. In
fact, we were told that both men and children were optional. The idea seemed
revolutionary at the time. It still does. Women were mad as hell and they weren’t
taking it anymore. We called it Women’s Liberation, and though it was never
said, it was certainly implied (and believed in most circles) that a woman who
did not work was a bit inferior to a career woman. That was when such women
were called housewives and not “stay at home” moms. Women were divided into two
groups – those who worked and those who didn’t. Back then, no one thought that
staying home and taking care of a family and home was work. The women of my
generation wanted more, demanded more, and believed we were entitled to just
that – more. We sometimes looked at our own mothers, most of whom did not have real jobs, as women who simply did not
understand that there was more to life than being a mother. If truth be told,
we thought they were a bit simple-minded and we secretly vowed to do more with
our lives.
And yet…as this Baby Boomer looks at her life, I
realize nothing I have ever done, or will ever do, is as important as being a
mother. Not career, volunteer work, graduate school, or any creative pursuit.
Nothing else even comes close to being a mother. Period.
One of my children lives half an hour away, another
is one state away, and the third is on the other side of the world in Denmark.
Yesterday, my husband and I spent the entire day with our two-year-old
granddaughter. She then spent the night. As I write this, I hear her gentle
breathing in the baby monitor positioned atop the table close to where I sit.
To say that my children, and now my granddaughter,
have filled my life with love and joy is an understatement. As children, they
expanded my heart in ways I could never have imagined. For the first time in my
life, I not only understood, but received unconditional love. As adults, they
are three people that I know I can always count on. They will always be there
for me. Just as I will always be there for them. Can you say the same about
your career?
There used to be a television show called Fantasy
Island. People visited the island and lived out their fantasies – no matter how
wild (okay, not that wild – this was primetime family tv in the seventies). Not
too long ago, my husband and I had a discussion about that old tv show and
asked each other – What would your fantasy be? Mine was easy. If I could have a
Fantasy Island day, I would relive one day with my children. My son would be
10, which would make my daughters 4 and 2. We would spend the day doing
whatever they wanted. Going to the park, going to the movies, playing games,
baking cookies, or just sitting on the floor playing with Legos and Barbies. I
would hug them a lot. And kiss the tops of their heads. And take tons of
pictures. I wouldn’t cook. I wouldn’t clean. And I wouldn’t worry about my
career.
I would watch my son show his younger sisters how
to do things, like he always did in his older brother sort of way. I would
watch my 2 year-old daughter follow her older 4 year-old sister around the
room, shadowing her every move. Just as she did, even through their college
years when they shared an apartment near Indiana University. I would watch the
older sister taking care of her younger sister, as if she were her baby.
Which is what she called her when she was born – my baby.
Bedtime would be later than usual on that fantasy
night. I would tuck them into their beds, fresh from baths and smelling of
shampoo. The girls smelling like baby lotion. My son would hug me goodnight
with his long skinny arms and tell me he loves me. And I would feel the truth
in that. I would tuck in my girls and tell them it is time to go to sleep. I
would take extra care in covering the older girl’s feet, because she always
kicked her blankets off during the night. I would kiss the baby and hold her a
little longer, because I would know that, as I type this she is in Denmark
which makes visiting tough.
And, as I walk down the hall and turn out the
lights, I would call out to all of them, as I always did… “Goodnight. Love you.
Sweet dreams. See you in the morning.”
And that would be my fantasy day. Oddly enough, it
has nothing to do with my career as a writer. Even though being a writer has
always been my dream. My first novel, Life is But a Dream: On the Lake, was
published earlier this year. The main character, Grace Adams, is a woman facing
an empty nest and the possible demise of her marriage. Grace withdraws to a
secluded lake cabin to redefine her life and try to find a reason to continue
living. While at the lake, Grace not only finds renewed purpose and hope, but
when things take a turn for the worse at the lake, she finds a strength she
never knew she possessed. The novel is thought-provoking, sometimes
frightening, and often funny (just like life). It is also, very definitely,
fiction.
I'm not Grace. Even though my “nest” is empty, I am
enjoying this time and this new focus on my career. I am not suicidal or
lacking in purpose. My husband and I both work from home (he designs websites),
we live on a lake, and our schedule is our own. It is truly a wonderful time in
our lives. Sometimes I have popcorn for dinner. Enough said.
But, would my current life be as wonderful if I had
not pursued career and graduate school and developed the skills I am using now?
Probably not. I managed to combine work and school and motherhood. I believed I
could have it all, and do it all, but to be honest – the kids always came
first. And being a mother is the strongest and best part of my identity. It is
the thing I am most proud of. My greatest achievement. And, once in a while, I
miss those days when toys where scattered across the floor, the washer was
always running, and we bought eight gallons of milk a week.
If you have children at home, cherish those simple
every-day moments with them. They really will be gone in the blink of an eye –
sooner than you can possibly imagine. Put this book down. Now. Go sit on the
floor and play a game. Pop some popcorn, put on one of their favorite movies,
and cuddle up on the couch. Live that “fantasy” right now. You will never be
able to recapture these moments. Enjoy them now. There is no greater gift than
the love of your children. Spend the rest of your day letting it pour over you.
And pour your love right back over them. You can come back to this book
tonight, after they are asleep.
As I type this, I can hear my granddaughter waking
up. I am shutting my computer off. Right now, I am going to go upstairs and
scoop her up from her crib. She will probably wrap her little arms around my
neck and ask, “Play blocks, Bomb Bomb?”
And we will play blocks.
This is one story from
Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy
today. All proceeds go to the Susan G. Komen Foundation for Breast Cancer.
Also included are
sneak peeks into 25 novels! My novel, Life Is But a Dream: On The Lake,
is one of the novel excerpts featured. It is available at most online retailers
in trade paperback as well as e-book formats.
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