Chicki Brown's Blog, page 45
August 10, 2012
Marketing: Why the Future is Bright for Writers
Many of you will remember this song. It was featured in the movie, Doc Hollywood starring Michael J. Fox:
I wanted to use this song to introduce a fantastic article by Randy Ingermanson, the publisher of the Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine. Take it away, Randy!
***
A couple of weeks ago, there was a bit of a fuss among writer over the alleged impending death of writing as a profession.
The fuss focused around an article published by John Barber in The Globe and Mail. I would include a link to this article, but it's a long and convoluted link that won't fit on one line here.
You can find it by Googling "there will be no more professional writers in the future."
No, I'm not making that up. That is the real title of a real article that seriously claims that the future is dim for writers.
According to the article, the title is a direct quote from a UK writer, Ewan Morrison, "There will be no more professional writers in the future."
I don't believe it.
I believe that there's never been a better time to be a writer than now. I believe the future will be even better for writers.
I believe the future is bright for writers.
Now it's true that the future is going to look different from the past.
In the past, large corporations created publishing companies that guessed what readers would want to buy and then paid writers to create it.
The corporations took all of the financial risk and most of the financial reward. Authors didn't have to pay for cover art, editorial work, marketing, sales, distribution, printing, postage, or anything else.
In theory, authors took little financial risk and therefore got very little reward. (The author royalties for most paperback books are less than a dollar per copy. Royalties on hardcovers are typically a few dollars per copy.)
But in practice, authors took plenty of risk. Before getting published, a writer often worked for years to learn the craft of writing. It's common to hear a writer say, "I took ten years to become an overnight success." Most of that training time earned the writer nothing.
Let's be clear that a very few writers have done stupendously well with the old system. That's natural. In a free market economy, the 80-20 rule applies. Roughly 20% of the authors earn roughly 80% of the income. The top 1% of authors earn a lot of money.
The 80-20 rule has always been approximately true and probably always will be.
It's certainly true now as we watch the rise of independent authors. There are a very few big winners -- the new e-book elite. People like Amanda Hocking, Joe Konrath, John Locke, and Bob Mayer have sold huge numbers of e-books and earned very good money.
Five years ago, nobody would have believed that could happen. Now, it's extremely believable. There's a new superstar every few months.
The gloom-and-doom people like to point out that the vast majority of e-book authors don't earn very much. The median income for e-book authors these days is said to be about $500 per year.
It's hard to see why that's a bad thing. That is a radical improvement over the old days, when the median income of all writers was zero. (Because the overwhelming majority of writers couldn't get published at all, which meant they earned nothing.)
If the 80-20 rule has always been true and will always be true, then you may think that nothing really has changed.
In the old days, there were a few hundred high-earning authors, a few tens of thousands of published writers who earned modestly well, and hundreds of thousands of wannabes who couldn't sell a thing.
In the new e-book market, which is still developing, we're seeing a few very self-published big winners, thousands who are doing moderately well, and many tens
of thousands who are earning only small amounts.
What's different now?
What's different is that writers now have more control. If you want to publish an e-book, you can do it. Nobody can keep you from doing it. You might not earn much, but if you don't, then you can't blame those pesky gatekeepers.
How is this better than the old days?
It's better because now a writer has more choices.
Remember, if you liked things the way they used to be, you still have that option. Nothing prevents you from working ten years, writing a brilliant novel, getting a top-notch agent, selling it to a big corporate publisher, and reaping huge rewards. If that's your wish and if you have the talent, go to it.
But if that's not your thing, you can write a book, make your own decisions on art, editing, and marketing, and live with your choices. If the novel hits big, then you get the rewards. The online retailers will take a small cut. You get the rest.
How could that possibly be bad?
Checking back to the article on "There Will Be No More Professional Writers In The Future," we find these reasons why that's supposed to be a Bad Thing:
* Advances from publishers are shrinking.
* Sales are shifting to "heavily discounted, royalty-poor and easily pirated ebooks."
* The Evil Empire Amazon is launching a predatory price war.
* The new "winner-take-all" economy somehow "doesn't allow young writers to flourish".
I'm not buying any of this. Let's look at each of these.
* Advances for most authors most of the time have always been small. It's a shame that they're shrinking, but even in the good old days they were rarely enough to live on, especially for debut novelists.
* An author earns a lot more royalties from a self-published e-book priced at $2.99 than from a
traditionally published trade paper book published at $14.99 or a mass market paperback published at $8.99.
So why is "heavy discounting" bad? It is pure double-talk to call that "royalty-poor." And piracy is a red herring. What evidence does anyone have that piracy hurts sales of e-books?
* If Amazon is truly evil and is truly engaging in predatory pricing, then the Department of Justice can sue them. Most readers I know like Amazon because it has low prices. Most self-pubbed authors I know LOVE Amazon because it pays vastly higher royalties than
traditional publishers. Where's the harm?
* The economy is not really "winner-take-all." The economy is "winner-takes-most." That's nothing new. All free market economies work that way and always have. The old book publishing industry was never friendly to young writers, who had to work in obscurity without pay for years before finally breaking in. And the average advance for debut novelists for decades has typically been quoted as $5k to $10k. Young writers never "flourished" on that level of support.
Here is the real reason the future is bright for writers.
There is a large market for books. The estimates I've seen are around $27 billion for net sales revenue for traditional publishers in the US. This does not include self-published books.
The trend that everyone seems to be worrying about is that traditional publishers might get less of that in the future and authors might get more. Yes, that's bad for traditional publishers. But for authors, it sounds pretty good. If traditional publishers have to treat their authors better in order to stay competitive, then that sounds great.
Writers now can control their own destinies in a large and vibrant free market. At low cost, they can create a product geared to any niche market they choose and easily post it for sale worldwide. They can earn 70% of the sales revenue and be paid promptly. Or not, if they really can't stomach all that freedom.
Readers who switch to using e-readers typically start buying more titles, especially the lower-priced ones. A book becomes an impulse buy. This is good for authors who now have a better shot at finding their audience. Now buying decisions can be based on quality, rather than on whether a publisher has bought space for a book on the front tables of bookstores.
Writers have more freedom, an international market, a bigger share of the pie, and a level playing field.
Oh, the horror of it all.
The future is bright for writers.
The future is incredibly bright for writers.
The future is amazingly incredibly bright for writers.
Go get it.
###
This article is reprinted by permission of the author.
Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, "the Snowflake Guy," publishes the free monthly Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine, with more than 32,000 readers. If you want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction, AND make your writing more valuable to editors, AND have FUN doing it, visit http://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com.
Download your free Special Report on Tiger Marketing and get a free 5-Day Course in How To Publish a Novel.
Randy Ingermanson
Publisher, Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine
http://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com/ezine
I wanted to use this song to introduce a fantastic article by Randy Ingermanson, the publisher of the Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine. Take it away, Randy!
***
A couple of weeks ago, there was a bit of a fuss among writer over the alleged impending death of writing as a profession.
The fuss focused around an article published by John Barber in The Globe and Mail. I would include a link to this article, but it's a long and convoluted link that won't fit on one line here.
You can find it by Googling "there will be no more professional writers in the future."
No, I'm not making that up. That is the real title of a real article that seriously claims that the future is dim for writers.
According to the article, the title is a direct quote from a UK writer, Ewan Morrison, "There will be no more professional writers in the future."
I don't believe it.
I believe that there's never been a better time to be a writer than now. I believe the future will be even better for writers.
I believe the future is bright for writers.
Now it's true that the future is going to look different from the past.
In the past, large corporations created publishing companies that guessed what readers would want to buy and then paid writers to create it.
The corporations took all of the financial risk and most of the financial reward. Authors didn't have to pay for cover art, editorial work, marketing, sales, distribution, printing, postage, or anything else.
In theory, authors took little financial risk and therefore got very little reward. (The author royalties for most paperback books are less than a dollar per copy. Royalties on hardcovers are typically a few dollars per copy.)
But in practice, authors took plenty of risk. Before getting published, a writer often worked for years to learn the craft of writing. It's common to hear a writer say, "I took ten years to become an overnight success." Most of that training time earned the writer nothing.
Let's be clear that a very few writers have done stupendously well with the old system. That's natural. In a free market economy, the 80-20 rule applies. Roughly 20% of the authors earn roughly 80% of the income. The top 1% of authors earn a lot of money.
The 80-20 rule has always been approximately true and probably always will be.
It's certainly true now as we watch the rise of independent authors. There are a very few big winners -- the new e-book elite. People like Amanda Hocking, Joe Konrath, John Locke, and Bob Mayer have sold huge numbers of e-books and earned very good money.
Five years ago, nobody would have believed that could happen. Now, it's extremely believable. There's a new superstar every few months.
The gloom-and-doom people like to point out that the vast majority of e-book authors don't earn very much. The median income for e-book authors these days is said to be about $500 per year.
It's hard to see why that's a bad thing. That is a radical improvement over the old days, when the median income of all writers was zero. (Because the overwhelming majority of writers couldn't get published at all, which meant they earned nothing.)
If the 80-20 rule has always been true and will always be true, then you may think that nothing really has changed.
In the old days, there were a few hundred high-earning authors, a few tens of thousands of published writers who earned modestly well, and hundreds of thousands of wannabes who couldn't sell a thing.
In the new e-book market, which is still developing, we're seeing a few very self-published big winners, thousands who are doing moderately well, and many tens
of thousands who are earning only small amounts.
What's different now?
What's different is that writers now have more control. If you want to publish an e-book, you can do it. Nobody can keep you from doing it. You might not earn much, but if you don't, then you can't blame those pesky gatekeepers.
How is this better than the old days?
It's better because now a writer has more choices.
Remember, if you liked things the way they used to be, you still have that option. Nothing prevents you from working ten years, writing a brilliant novel, getting a top-notch agent, selling it to a big corporate publisher, and reaping huge rewards. If that's your wish and if you have the talent, go to it.
But if that's not your thing, you can write a book, make your own decisions on art, editing, and marketing, and live with your choices. If the novel hits big, then you get the rewards. The online retailers will take a small cut. You get the rest.
How could that possibly be bad?
Checking back to the article on "There Will Be No More Professional Writers In The Future," we find these reasons why that's supposed to be a Bad Thing:
* Advances from publishers are shrinking.
* Sales are shifting to "heavily discounted, royalty-poor and easily pirated ebooks."
* The Evil Empire Amazon is launching a predatory price war.
* The new "winner-take-all" economy somehow "doesn't allow young writers to flourish".
I'm not buying any of this. Let's look at each of these.
* Advances for most authors most of the time have always been small. It's a shame that they're shrinking, but even in the good old days they were rarely enough to live on, especially for debut novelists.
* An author earns a lot more royalties from a self-published e-book priced at $2.99 than from a
traditionally published trade paper book published at $14.99 or a mass market paperback published at $8.99.
So why is "heavy discounting" bad? It is pure double-talk to call that "royalty-poor." And piracy is a red herring. What evidence does anyone have that piracy hurts sales of e-books?
* If Amazon is truly evil and is truly engaging in predatory pricing, then the Department of Justice can sue them. Most readers I know like Amazon because it has low prices. Most self-pubbed authors I know LOVE Amazon because it pays vastly higher royalties than
traditional publishers. Where's the harm?
* The economy is not really "winner-take-all." The economy is "winner-takes-most." That's nothing new. All free market economies work that way and always have. The old book publishing industry was never friendly to young writers, who had to work in obscurity without pay for years before finally breaking in. And the average advance for debut novelists for decades has typically been quoted as $5k to $10k. Young writers never "flourished" on that level of support.
Here is the real reason the future is bright for writers.
There is a large market for books. The estimates I've seen are around $27 billion for net sales revenue for traditional publishers in the US. This does not include self-published books.
The trend that everyone seems to be worrying about is that traditional publishers might get less of that in the future and authors might get more. Yes, that's bad for traditional publishers. But for authors, it sounds pretty good. If traditional publishers have to treat their authors better in order to stay competitive, then that sounds great.
Writers now can control their own destinies in a large and vibrant free market. At low cost, they can create a product geared to any niche market they choose and easily post it for sale worldwide. They can earn 70% of the sales revenue and be paid promptly. Or not, if they really can't stomach all that freedom.
Readers who switch to using e-readers typically start buying more titles, especially the lower-priced ones. A book becomes an impulse buy. This is good for authors who now have a better shot at finding their audience. Now buying decisions can be based on quality, rather than on whether a publisher has bought space for a book on the front tables of bookstores.
Writers have more freedom, an international market, a bigger share of the pie, and a level playing field.
Oh, the horror of it all.
The future is bright for writers.
The future is incredibly bright for writers.
The future is amazingly incredibly bright for writers.
Go get it.
###
This article is reprinted by permission of the author.
Award-winning novelist Randy Ingermanson, "the Snowflake Guy," publishes the free monthly Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine, with more than 32,000 readers. If you want to learn the craft and marketing of fiction, AND make your writing more valuable to editors, AND have FUN doing it, visit http://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com.
Download your free Special Report on Tiger Marketing and get a free 5-Day Course in How To Publish a Novel.
Randy Ingermanson
Publisher, Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine
http://www.AdvancedFictionWriting.com/ezine
August 4, 2012
Ain't Too Proud to Beg - Sneak Peek #1
My new work in progress is a romance that features Vaughn Breland, one of the characters from
Hot Fun in the Summertime
and
Hollywood Swinging
.
Vaughn is an actor who is known more for his love life than he is for his skill before the cameras. His days are spent working, and his nights are filled with club hopping and parties. In celebration of a recent film success, he bought himself a new Lamborghini, his dream car.
This is how the story opens ...
Chapter One
I opened my eyes and had to blink several times to clear my blurred vision. Where the hell am I? Daylight seeped through the woven curtains into the room, but it didn’t do much to help me identify my surroundings. I turned my head to get a better view, and a thundering pain, like someone had bowled a spare inside my skull, warned me not to move again. The shriek that echoed in the room came from my own mouth after I raised my right arm and rubbed my eye. It felt as if I had jammed a hot poker into it, and I jerked it away.
A bandage?
This time I used a feather light touch to examine the other side of my face. It was completely covered. My hands trembled at the possibilities. What had happened?
Maybe things hadn’t gone the way I’d planned with Reese last night. She wanted to join me on this weekend trip, but I had to beg off. Now I couldn’t even remember what I’d told her. What I did recall, and probably would for weeks to come, was the send-off she’d given me. Surely, telling her she couldn’t accompany me on the trip hadn’t angered her enough to go for my face. The past twenty-four hours was a muddled mess.
Wasn’t I supposed to be in…Colorado? Right, a meeting in Telluride. My brilliant mind finally deduced that this definitely wasn’t Hollywood producer Craig Weinstein’s vacation house.
But where? And why?
Without moving the pounding boulder attached to my neck, I stretched my gaze as far as possible to the right and saw a chalkboard on the otherwise bare beige wall with the date and three names written on it. Some beeping machines stood beside the bed.
Hospital. I’m in a hospital. The antiseptic smell should’ve been a dead giveaway.
Everything went into a spin when I raised the boulder a few inches off the pillow and saw a contraption suspending my left leg in mid-air, but I had no feeling in it. Ice spread through my stomach. “God! Oh, God! No!” This couldn’t be happening to me. White-hot bolts of pain shot directly to my brain. I grabbed my head in what felt like slow motion and squeezed my hands together to keep my brains from falling out in spite of the tubes that tugged at my right arm. Where the hell was the call button? My hands tore at the sheets in a frantic effort to find it. Finally, my fingers found the heavy rubber-coated wire close to my left side. I ran them down the cord until I found the controls and held the button down.
“Where is everybody? What am I doing here?”
“We’re on the way, Mr. Breland,” A woman’s voice spoke from somewhere above my head.
“Please calm down.”
Within seconds two nurses rushed in.
“Where am I?” My words sounded slurred.
“Try not to move, Mr. Breland. You don’t want to pull out the IV,” the blonde nurse said in a calm tone. She moved to my side and placed her hands on my shoulders. For some reason, her touch calmed me, and I slumped back against the pillow.
“It’s okay. Just lay back and let us check you.” Her eyes judiciously scanned the monitors next to the bed while she continued speaking in a reassuring voice. “You’re in Telluride Medical Center. You had a serious car accident. Both of your legs were broken and your hip was dislocated. The doctor performed surgery last night, and your left leg is stabilized. You are very lucky to be alive, Mr. Breland.”
All I could do after hearing that rundown was groan. What the hell could be lucky about being that damaged? “What about…my face?” Even under the influence of whatever they had given me, I hated the way my voice trembled.
Vaughn is an actor who is known more for his love life than he is for his skill before the cameras. His days are spent working, and his nights are filled with club hopping and parties. In celebration of a recent film success, he bought himself a new Lamborghini, his dream car.
This is how the story opens ...
Chapter One
I opened my eyes and had to blink several times to clear my blurred vision. Where the hell am I? Daylight seeped through the woven curtains into the room, but it didn’t do much to help me identify my surroundings. I turned my head to get a better view, and a thundering pain, like someone had bowled a spare inside my skull, warned me not to move again. The shriek that echoed in the room came from my own mouth after I raised my right arm and rubbed my eye. It felt as if I had jammed a hot poker into it, and I jerked it away.
A bandage?
This time I used a feather light touch to examine the other side of my face. It was completely covered. My hands trembled at the possibilities. What had happened?
Maybe things hadn’t gone the way I’d planned with Reese last night. She wanted to join me on this weekend trip, but I had to beg off. Now I couldn’t even remember what I’d told her. What I did recall, and probably would for weeks to come, was the send-off she’d given me. Surely, telling her she couldn’t accompany me on the trip hadn’t angered her enough to go for my face. The past twenty-four hours was a muddled mess.
Wasn’t I supposed to be in…Colorado? Right, a meeting in Telluride. My brilliant mind finally deduced that this definitely wasn’t Hollywood producer Craig Weinstein’s vacation house.
But where? And why?
Without moving the pounding boulder attached to my neck, I stretched my gaze as far as possible to the right and saw a chalkboard on the otherwise bare beige wall with the date and three names written on it. Some beeping machines stood beside the bed.
Hospital. I’m in a hospital. The antiseptic smell should’ve been a dead giveaway.
Everything went into a spin when I raised the boulder a few inches off the pillow and saw a contraption suspending my left leg in mid-air, but I had no feeling in it. Ice spread through my stomach. “God! Oh, God! No!” This couldn’t be happening to me. White-hot bolts of pain shot directly to my brain. I grabbed my head in what felt like slow motion and squeezed my hands together to keep my brains from falling out in spite of the tubes that tugged at my right arm. Where the hell was the call button? My hands tore at the sheets in a frantic effort to find it. Finally, my fingers found the heavy rubber-coated wire close to my left side. I ran them down the cord until I found the controls and held the button down.
“Where is everybody? What am I doing here?”
“We’re on the way, Mr. Breland,” A woman’s voice spoke from somewhere above my head.
“Please calm down.”
Within seconds two nurses rushed in.
“Where am I?” My words sounded slurred.
“Try not to move, Mr. Breland. You don’t want to pull out the IV,” the blonde nurse said in a calm tone. She moved to my side and placed her hands on my shoulders. For some reason, her touch calmed me, and I slumped back against the pillow.
“It’s okay. Just lay back and let us check you.” Her eyes judiciously scanned the monitors next to the bed while she continued speaking in a reassuring voice. “You’re in Telluride Medical Center. You had a serious car accident. Both of your legs were broken and your hip was dislocated. The doctor performed surgery last night, and your left leg is stabilized. You are very lucky to be alive, Mr. Breland.”
All I could do after hearing that rundown was groan. What the hell could be lucky about being that damaged? “What about…my face?” Even under the influence of whatever they had given me, I hated the way my voice trembled.
July 27, 2012
Fun Friday
GENERATION Y- People born before 1946 were called The Silent generation. - People born between 1946 and 1964 are called The Baby Boomers.- People born between 1965 and 1979 are Generation X.- And people born between 1980 and 2010 are called Generation Y.
Why do we call the last group Generation Y? Well …
Y should I get a job?
Y should I leave home and find my own place?
Y should I get a car when I can borrow yours?
Y should I grow up?
Y should I clean my room?
Y should I wash and iron my own clothes?
Y should I buy any food?
Y should I care what you old folks think?
But a cartoonist explains it VERY eloquently in this picture.
Why do we call the last group Generation Y? Well …
Y should I get a job?
Y should I leave home and find my own place?
Y should I get a car when I can borrow yours?
Y should I grow up?
Y should I clean my room?
Y should I wash and iron my own clothes?
Y should I buy any food?
Y should I care what you old folks think?
But a cartoonist explains it VERY eloquently in this picture.
July 25, 2012
The NEXT Two Years
Recently, I wrote an entry about what's happened with my writing career over the past two years. Today I want to talk about looking forward to the next two years and what I plan to do differently …
#1 - Reserve a day a week to do absolutely nothing , except maybe read. Working seven days a week is not good, no matter how much you enjoy it. My brain needs some down time.[image error]#2 - Format my manuscripts from scratch in “Kindle format” – meaning, in 12 point on 18, using section breaks instead of page breaks, etc. I've already started doing this with my new WIP, Ain't Too Proud to Beg . It saves so much time in the long run. #3 - Spend less time online, even though I love it, I realize I can’t read everybody’s blog, Facebook messages, or look at all y’all’s Pinterest photos.#4 - Get out to more literary events. Last year I only made it to two, and that’s pitiful. In previous years, I went to every free/low cost workshop, seminar, book expo or signing I discovered. #5 - Start a street team. Author Tonya Kappes has done a marvelous job with this. In essence, a street team is comprised of readers, online friends, other authors, anyone that has volunteered to help get the word out about your new book. Of course, there are little perks for these generous souls - free books, swag, discounts. There are some folks who have always helped me promote, and I owe them a huge debt of gratitude, but this will be an official team.[image error]#6 - Try some innovative ways to promote my books. I have already started by creating new promo postcards to hand out in person. Before I had a separate card for each book with the cover image on one side and the story description and buy links on the other. Now that I have six books out, that doesn’t work very well. #7 - Get all of my books onto other e-tailers. Right now I only put Have You Seen Her? on Bibliocracy and All Romance Books, but I did get the first four onto Kobo last week.#8 - No more free or 99 cent offers. Been there, done that. These kinds of promotions are fantastic for getting your name out there. As a result of KDP Select, I've gotten my books into the hands of more than 15,000 readers. Not bad...
#9 - Have a new web site created since mine is stagnant. I haven't made any major changes on it in two years. This is something I don't plan to do myself, and I've been investigating people/companies to create a new site at a reasonable cost.#10 - Get a new author picture taken. The current one is almost eight years old, but since I hate taking pictures, I'll have to force myself ...
Well, those are my top ten. If you're an author, what are your plans for the next two years?
#1 - Reserve a day a week to do absolutely nothing , except maybe read. Working seven days a week is not good, no matter how much you enjoy it. My brain needs some down time.[image error]#2 - Format my manuscripts from scratch in “Kindle format” – meaning, in 12 point on 18, using section breaks instead of page breaks, etc. I've already started doing this with my new WIP, Ain't Too Proud to Beg . It saves so much time in the long run. #3 - Spend less time online, even though I love it, I realize I can’t read everybody’s blog, Facebook messages, or look at all y’all’s Pinterest photos.#4 - Get out to more literary events. Last year I only made it to two, and that’s pitiful. In previous years, I went to every free/low cost workshop, seminar, book expo or signing I discovered. #5 - Start a street team. Author Tonya Kappes has done a marvelous job with this. In essence, a street team is comprised of readers, online friends, other authors, anyone that has volunteered to help get the word out about your new book. Of course, there are little perks for these generous souls - free books, swag, discounts. There are some folks who have always helped me promote, and I owe them a huge debt of gratitude, but this will be an official team.[image error]#6 - Try some innovative ways to promote my books. I have already started by creating new promo postcards to hand out in person. Before I had a separate card for each book with the cover image on one side and the story description and buy links on the other. Now that I have six books out, that doesn’t work very well. #7 - Get all of my books onto other e-tailers. Right now I only put Have You Seen Her? on Bibliocracy and All Romance Books, but I did get the first four onto Kobo last week.#8 - No more free or 99 cent offers. Been there, done that. These kinds of promotions are fantastic for getting your name out there. As a result of KDP Select, I've gotten my books into the hands of more than 15,000 readers. Not bad...
#9 - Have a new web site created since mine is stagnant. I haven't made any major changes on it in two years. This is something I don't plan to do myself, and I've been investigating people/companies to create a new site at a reasonable cost.#10 - Get a new author picture taken. The current one is almost eight years old, but since I hate taking pictures, I'll have to force myself ...Well, those are my top ten. If you're an author, what are your plans for the next two years?
July 20, 2012
Fun Friday
HE SAID, I SAIDHe said to me . ... . I don't know why you wear a bra; you've got nothing to put in it
I said to him .... . . You wear pants don't you.
He said to me ... . ......... Shall we try swapping positions tonight?
I said to him .. That's a good idea - you stand by the stove & sink while I sit on the sofa and do nothing but fart.
He said to me. ... What have you been doing with all the grocery money I gave you?
I said to him . ..... Turn sideways and look in the mirror!
He said to me. . How many men does it take to change a roll of toilet paper?
I said to him .. .. I don't know; it has never happened.
He said to me. . Why is it difficult to find men who are sensitive, caring and Good- looking?
I said to him . . . They already have boyfriends.
He said to me...What do you call a woman who knows where her husband is every night?
I said to him. . .. A widow.
He said to me.... Why are married women heavier than single women?
I said to him .. . .. Single women come home, see what's in the fridge and go to bed..Married women come home, see what's in bed and go to the fridge.
I'm just saying ....
July 17, 2012
Author Spotlight
Today I have the awesome pleasure of welcoming author Sharon Cooper.
Sharon has just released her new novel, Blue Roses. I'll let her tell you about it.
Where most women would welcome love from a wealthy, good-looking man, Chicago-based investment manager, Dallas Marcel, is not one of them. She will never let a man control her life again. That includes handsome entrepreneur, Tyler Hollister. Dallas is on track to making partner and she’s not letting anything or anyone get in her way. But when her life is put in danger, and a Ponzi scheme ignites a SEC investigation of her firm, she realizes the one man she'd banned from her heart, might be the only one who can save her career and her life.
Tall, dark, and handsome, Tyler Hollister can have any woman he wants, but he only wants one - Dallas. When he starts talking marriage, she breaks things off between them, claiming she doesn’t want a romantic entanglement to hinder her plight to making partner. A chance meeting, six months later, brings them face to face and Tyler soon realizes the intense sexual attraction they once shared is stronger than ever. But he swore he was done with her. Except he finds out her life is in danger, and his protective instincts take over. Can he save her life without losing his heart … again?
Excerpt
“Man, where are you?”
“I’m on my way.” Tyler Hollister pinned his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear as he fumbled for his keys on his way out of the dentist office.
“You were supposed to be here a half-an-hour ago.”
“Q, I’m sorry. Is the meeting over?”
“Nah, but I don’t know how much longer I can stall for you.”
Tyler glanced at his Breguet watch and hurried to his truck. He knew how much Quinn, his best friend and business partner hated meetings. “Okay, give me ten minutes. My appointment took longer than I thought, but I’m ... damn, I’d know that sexy walk anywhere.” He stopped in his tracks when his eyes zoned in on the beautiful woman on the other side of the street.
“What? Ty, dude what’s up?”
He continued to observe as she made her way to the middle of the semi-crowded block in downtown Milwaukee weaving around people along the way. True to form, she caught the eye of a few guys passing. Tyler chuckled when they turned and enjoyed one more view once she’d passed. She always did have that effect on men. It wasn’t until she stopped to throw something in the trash, that he knew for sure it was her. Dallas Marcel, his ex-girlfriend.
“Q, I’ll call you back.” He disconnected not giving Quinn a chance to respond, and shoved the phone into his pocket. Tyler moved in her direction, stepping around a broken orange and white road barrier sign that was lying in the center of the sidewalk.
He stole a quick glance at Dallas as she came to a stop at the corner to wait for the light to change. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to say hello, he leaned against the brick building to his right, ensuring that she would have to walk past him once the light turned green.
Still gorgeous. Tall, fierce, and dressed to the nines. He loved it when she wore her long, thick hair piled high on top of her head, the way she had it now, with a few curly tendrils hanging down. The look complimented her perfectly sculpted face and revealed her long, sexy neck.
He cursed under his breath and looked away. He didn’t want to still be attracted to the most bullheaded woman he’d ever met. Too independent for her own good, but one of the best investment managers in Chicago, she was a woman on a mission. Her goal in life, or as he saw it, obsession, was to make partner at her firm – which was why she turned down his marriage proposal. According to her, she didn’t have room in her life for a seriousrelationship, despite the fact that they were perfect together, in every way.
“She threw what we had away, so why am I standing here just to say hello?” He mumbled and slipped a piece of gum into his mouth, not understanding his need to see her again.
His cell phone chirped twice signaling a text message, and he pulled it out of his pocket, and scanned the screen. No need to come - postponed the rest of the meeting until next week. Headed to Bradley Rd. to check on the guys.
Good. One less meeting. Tyler deposited his cell into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and adjusted his tie. As a real estate developer, it seemed most of his days were spent in meetings, reading over contracts, or dealing with building inspectors.
He pushed away from the building and rolled his shoulders just as the light turned green, and Dallas stepped off the curb. Finally, he’d be face-to-face with the woman he’d tried hard to forget, but couldn’t stop thinking about. He took a few steps when suddenly their eyes met, and a sensuous light passed between them. All of the sexual energy, passion and love he once felt for her came rushing back to the surface, and his heart hammered double-time in response. Damn.
Dallas’s pace slowed, but she continued across the street, her magnetic brown eyes held his attention, immobilizing him. Less than twenty feet from him and it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. A raging fire grew in the pit of his stomach, his hands ached to touch her, and all it had taken was that one look. This is not cool. He quickly pulled his eyes away and looked everywhere but at her, feeling the need to regroup. I’m supposed to be over her.
After a long cleansing breath, he looked up again just in time to see a car barreling toward her.
“Oh shit. Watch out!” he shouted, and then sprinted in her direction.
Screeeeechhhhhh! Boom!
“Nooo!” He yelled as her body bounced off the hood of the car. He slid to a stop before he reached the corner, shock kept him from moving forward. It wasn’t until the four-door dark sedan sped away in the opposite direction that he moved into action.
“Excuse me, excuse me.” He pushed his way through the swarm of people. An icy fear crawled up his spine when he saw her lifeless body on the hard pavement, a puddle of blood painted the ground near her head. “Oh my God,” he whispered and fell to his knees. “Dallas. Baby…” He caressed her cheek, afraid to move her. His heart pounded against his chest, and beads of sweat surfaced on his forehead as panic rioted within him. “Get some help over here!”
Time ceased as a haunting sense of foreboding wrapped around him when he checked and found her pulse was weak. He needed to do something, but thankfully, in the far distance he could hear the sirens. “Hold on, baby, hold on.”
****
Tyler paced the length of the waiting room battling the emotions wreaking havoc throughout his body. It all seemed so unreal - seeing Dallas in Milwaukee for the first time in six months, and then having to lie about being her husband in order to ride in the ambulance with her. And if that weren’t enough, he had to relive it all just moments ago when he was questioned by the police. God, I can’t believe this happened. He ran a nervous hand down his face, and then jammed it into his front pants pocket. One minute he was admiring Dallas from a distance and in the next moment he witnessed her being run down by an idiot driver.
He dropped down hard onto a nearby paisley printed chair and rested his head against the cold, dingy wall. Through half-opened lids, he glanced around the sparsely furnished room. With small groups of people scattered about, he sat trying to tune out the chatter going on around him.
Mixed feelings rattled in his chest knowing he’d have to face Dallas soon. Sure he was glad to have spotted her hours ago, but when their eyes connected, and all of the old feelings returned, he knew he wasn’t over her. Despite that fact, he couldn’t go back. She’d been the only woman to reject him, and the night she walked out of his life, a part of him left with her. Now here he was, pretending to be her husband in order to get word on her condition. He grunted at the irony of it all.
“Mr. Marcel?” A doctor called out several times before it dawned on Tyler that it was he the doctor was calling. Tyler jumped up from his seat.
“It’s Hollister. Tyler Hollister. My wife uses her maiden name.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’m Doctor Malone,” he said as they shook hands.
“How is she?”
“She’s a very lucky lady.” The doctor, short enough for Tyler to see the bald spot on top of his head, glanced at the chart in his hand. He pushed up the glasses that were perched on the end of his nose. “Your wife has a mild concussion and a broken leg. She had a collapsed lung which we were able to repair. And though her left shoulder and ribs are seriously bruised, there’s no permanent damage. You’re going to notice a few cuts on her face and neck, but they should heal without much scarring. It’ll take a few weeks, but I have no reason to doubt that she’ll make a full recovery.”
Tyler blew out a shaky breath and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. Part of him wanted to turn and leave the building now that he knew Dallas would be okay, but the other part of him wouldn’t let him move.
“Mr. Hollister,” the doctor continued, “your wife is very dehydrated and her blood pressure is dangerously low. Has she ever had a problem with her blood pressure?” He removed his glasses and stuck them into his jacket pocket.
“Not as far as I know.”
“Well, we’re going to continue to monitor her over the next couple of days, get some fluids into her, and see how it goes.”
“So what would cause those things?”
“Exhaustion and malnutrition would be my first guess.”
Her workaholic lifestyle must have caught up with her. “Uh, can I see her?”
“Well, she’s still—”
“Please. I need to see her.”
Purchase your copy today at:All Romance ebooks (ARe) - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-blueroses-866846-149.html
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Blue-Roses-Reunited-Series-ebook/dp/B008J4NIKS/ref=la_B007WLT1QO_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1342099400&sr=1-3
Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blue-roses-sharon-c-cooper/1112006251?ean=2940014604741
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/180513
About the AuthorSharon C. Cooper lives in Atlanta with her husband and enjoys reading, writing, and rainy days. She writes sweet and contemporary romance, and is currently working on book two of the Reunited Series, Rendezvous with Danger. Sharon is a Pro member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), a member of Georgia Romance Writers (GRW), and a member of the Page a Day Writers Group. To read more about Sharon, visit www.sharoncooper.net
Connect with Sharon Online:
Website: http://sharoncooper.netEmail: sharon@sharoncooper.net
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1575943684&ref=tn_tnmn
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/Sharon_Cooper1
Subscribe to her blog: http://sharonccooper.wordpress.com/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5823574.Sharon_C_Cooper
Sharon has just released her new novel, Blue Roses. I'll let her tell you about it.
Where most women would welcome love from a wealthy, good-looking man, Chicago-based investment manager, Dallas Marcel, is not one of them. She will never let a man control her life again. That includes handsome entrepreneur, Tyler Hollister. Dallas is on track to making partner and she’s not letting anything or anyone get in her way. But when her life is put in danger, and a Ponzi scheme ignites a SEC investigation of her firm, she realizes the one man she'd banned from her heart, might be the only one who can save her career and her life.
Tall, dark, and handsome, Tyler Hollister can have any woman he wants, but he only wants one - Dallas. When he starts talking marriage, she breaks things off between them, claiming she doesn’t want a romantic entanglement to hinder her plight to making partner. A chance meeting, six months later, brings them face to face and Tyler soon realizes the intense sexual attraction they once shared is stronger than ever. But he swore he was done with her. Except he finds out her life is in danger, and his protective instincts take over. Can he save her life without losing his heart … again?
Excerpt
“Man, where are you?”
“I’m on my way.” Tyler Hollister pinned his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear as he fumbled for his keys on his way out of the dentist office.
“You were supposed to be here a half-an-hour ago.”
“Q, I’m sorry. Is the meeting over?”
“Nah, but I don’t know how much longer I can stall for you.”
Tyler glanced at his Breguet watch and hurried to his truck. He knew how much Quinn, his best friend and business partner hated meetings. “Okay, give me ten minutes. My appointment took longer than I thought, but I’m ... damn, I’d know that sexy walk anywhere.” He stopped in his tracks when his eyes zoned in on the beautiful woman on the other side of the street.
“What? Ty, dude what’s up?”
He continued to observe as she made her way to the middle of the semi-crowded block in downtown Milwaukee weaving around people along the way. True to form, she caught the eye of a few guys passing. Tyler chuckled when they turned and enjoyed one more view once she’d passed. She always did have that effect on men. It wasn’t until she stopped to throw something in the trash, that he knew for sure it was her. Dallas Marcel, his ex-girlfriend.
“Q, I’ll call you back.” He disconnected not giving Quinn a chance to respond, and shoved the phone into his pocket. Tyler moved in her direction, stepping around a broken orange and white road barrier sign that was lying in the center of the sidewalk.
He stole a quick glance at Dallas as she came to a stop at the corner to wait for the light to change. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to say hello, he leaned against the brick building to his right, ensuring that she would have to walk past him once the light turned green.
Still gorgeous. Tall, fierce, and dressed to the nines. He loved it when she wore her long, thick hair piled high on top of her head, the way she had it now, with a few curly tendrils hanging down. The look complimented her perfectly sculpted face and revealed her long, sexy neck.
He cursed under his breath and looked away. He didn’t want to still be attracted to the most bullheaded woman he’d ever met. Too independent for her own good, but one of the best investment managers in Chicago, she was a woman on a mission. Her goal in life, or as he saw it, obsession, was to make partner at her firm – which was why she turned down his marriage proposal. According to her, she didn’t have room in her life for a seriousrelationship, despite the fact that they were perfect together, in every way.
“She threw what we had away, so why am I standing here just to say hello?” He mumbled and slipped a piece of gum into his mouth, not understanding his need to see her again.
His cell phone chirped twice signaling a text message, and he pulled it out of his pocket, and scanned the screen. No need to come - postponed the rest of the meeting until next week. Headed to Bradley Rd. to check on the guys.
Good. One less meeting. Tyler deposited his cell into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and adjusted his tie. As a real estate developer, it seemed most of his days were spent in meetings, reading over contracts, or dealing with building inspectors.
He pushed away from the building and rolled his shoulders just as the light turned green, and Dallas stepped off the curb. Finally, he’d be face-to-face with the woman he’d tried hard to forget, but couldn’t stop thinking about. He took a few steps when suddenly their eyes met, and a sensuous light passed between them. All of the sexual energy, passion and love he once felt for her came rushing back to the surface, and his heart hammered double-time in response. Damn.
Dallas’s pace slowed, but she continued across the street, her magnetic brown eyes held his attention, immobilizing him. Less than twenty feet from him and it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. A raging fire grew in the pit of his stomach, his hands ached to touch her, and all it had taken was that one look. This is not cool. He quickly pulled his eyes away and looked everywhere but at her, feeling the need to regroup. I’m supposed to be over her.
After a long cleansing breath, he looked up again just in time to see a car barreling toward her.
“Oh shit. Watch out!” he shouted, and then sprinted in her direction.
Screeeeechhhhhh! Boom!
“Nooo!” He yelled as her body bounced off the hood of the car. He slid to a stop before he reached the corner, shock kept him from moving forward. It wasn’t until the four-door dark sedan sped away in the opposite direction that he moved into action.
“Excuse me, excuse me.” He pushed his way through the swarm of people. An icy fear crawled up his spine when he saw her lifeless body on the hard pavement, a puddle of blood painted the ground near her head. “Oh my God,” he whispered and fell to his knees. “Dallas. Baby…” He caressed her cheek, afraid to move her. His heart pounded against his chest, and beads of sweat surfaced on his forehead as panic rioted within him. “Get some help over here!”
Time ceased as a haunting sense of foreboding wrapped around him when he checked and found her pulse was weak. He needed to do something, but thankfully, in the far distance he could hear the sirens. “Hold on, baby, hold on.”
****
Tyler paced the length of the waiting room battling the emotions wreaking havoc throughout his body. It all seemed so unreal - seeing Dallas in Milwaukee for the first time in six months, and then having to lie about being her husband in order to ride in the ambulance with her. And if that weren’t enough, he had to relive it all just moments ago when he was questioned by the police. God, I can’t believe this happened. He ran a nervous hand down his face, and then jammed it into his front pants pocket. One minute he was admiring Dallas from a distance and in the next moment he witnessed her being run down by an idiot driver.
He dropped down hard onto a nearby paisley printed chair and rested his head against the cold, dingy wall. Through half-opened lids, he glanced around the sparsely furnished room. With small groups of people scattered about, he sat trying to tune out the chatter going on around him.
Mixed feelings rattled in his chest knowing he’d have to face Dallas soon. Sure he was glad to have spotted her hours ago, but when their eyes connected, and all of the old feelings returned, he knew he wasn’t over her. Despite that fact, he couldn’t go back. She’d been the only woman to reject him, and the night she walked out of his life, a part of him left with her. Now here he was, pretending to be her husband in order to get word on her condition. He grunted at the irony of it all.
“Mr. Marcel?” A doctor called out several times before it dawned on Tyler that it was he the doctor was calling. Tyler jumped up from his seat.
“It’s Hollister. Tyler Hollister. My wife uses her maiden name.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’m Doctor Malone,” he said as they shook hands.
“How is she?”
“She’s a very lucky lady.” The doctor, short enough for Tyler to see the bald spot on top of his head, glanced at the chart in his hand. He pushed up the glasses that were perched on the end of his nose. “Your wife has a mild concussion and a broken leg. She had a collapsed lung which we were able to repair. And though her left shoulder and ribs are seriously bruised, there’s no permanent damage. You’re going to notice a few cuts on her face and neck, but they should heal without much scarring. It’ll take a few weeks, but I have no reason to doubt that she’ll make a full recovery.”
Tyler blew out a shaky breath and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve. Part of him wanted to turn and leave the building now that he knew Dallas would be okay, but the other part of him wouldn’t let him move.
“Mr. Hollister,” the doctor continued, “your wife is very dehydrated and her blood pressure is dangerously low. Has she ever had a problem with her blood pressure?” He removed his glasses and stuck them into his jacket pocket.
“Not as far as I know.”
“Well, we’re going to continue to monitor her over the next couple of days, get some fluids into her, and see how it goes.”
“So what would cause those things?”
“Exhaustion and malnutrition would be my first guess.”
Her workaholic lifestyle must have caught up with her. “Uh, can I see her?”
“Well, she’s still—”
“Please. I need to see her.”
Purchase your copy today at:All Romance ebooks (ARe) - http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-blueroses-866846-149.html
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Blue-Roses-Reunited-Series-ebook/dp/B008J4NIKS/ref=la_B007WLT1QO_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1342099400&sr=1-3
Barnes and Noble - http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/blue-roses-sharon-c-cooper/1112006251?ean=2940014604741
Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/180513
About the AuthorSharon C. Cooper lives in Atlanta with her husband and enjoys reading, writing, and rainy days. She writes sweet and contemporary romance, and is currently working on book two of the Reunited Series, Rendezvous with Danger. Sharon is a Pro member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), a member of Georgia Romance Writers (GRW), and a member of the Page a Day Writers Group. To read more about Sharon, visit www.sharoncooper.net
Connect with Sharon Online:
Website: http://sharoncooper.netEmail: sharon@sharoncooper.net
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1575943684&ref=tn_tnmn
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/Sharon_Cooper1
Subscribe to her blog: http://sharonccooper.wordpress.com/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5823574.Sharon_C_Cooper
July 13, 2012
Fun Friday
Lately I haven't had anything comical to post for my Fun Friday entries, but finally a friend sent me this one. Most men won't think it's funny, but it took me about five minutes to stop laughing when I read it the first time...
***
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.
The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.
Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"
"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"
There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."
So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behaviour as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.
It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs.
She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region.
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent.
The impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.
Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
If they only knew!
Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
***
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top of my head.
The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.
Then one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again. Please come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested through the shower pitter-patter and steam. "Reset it yourself!"
"But I'm scared!" she persisted. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"
There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a second."
So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked, hoping that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behaviour as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.
It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging between my legs.
She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. I know this from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent.
The impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.
Now there are not many things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in front of a group of "been-there, done-that" paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress their hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all. A few days later I finally made it back in to the office, where colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
"What's the matter?" They all asked, "Cat got your tongue?"
If they only knew!
Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
July 12, 2012
New review!
Yesterday I got a pleasant surprise - a fantastic review of Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing from book blogger and author Ray Stocks. Just wanted to share it with you here.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012RJS Book Review: A Chicki Brown Winner
RJS Book Review
As if my summer wasn't hot enough, I had the exceptional pleasure of reading Chicki Brown's latest novel Aint Nothing Like the Real Thing, e-published on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. I'll admit, I wasn't very interested in the book at first because it was categorized as Christian fiction, and (I'm sorry) but Christian romance can be done a little too prudishly for my taste. Not so here. Ms. Brown tells a remarkably realistic story, with all the candor and grace of traditional romance. Her themes are decidedly Christian, but not to the extent that a lover of romance is overpowered or turned off by its message.
The novel follows Dee and Michael, an interracial couple (as you can see from the cover) happily married with a toddler and, owners, individually, of two companies. So, why, if they are so happy, does Michael find his way into a daring affair--with a world famous supermodel no less--he meets in his nightclub? Michael does not fail to make things worse; because Dee feels so betrayed by his infidelity and no longer wants to even see his face, Michael moves out--to the model's home. Yeah, you heard me right. That part truly struck a nerve.
What I loved about this story is that even though it's about an interracial couple, the couple's reactions to one another are typical of any man or woman. While Dee does have her characteristic "black woman" moments telling Michael where to go and how to get off, it is an intimate look at how things in a relationship can go horribly wrong, even when everything looks right. Dee and Michael eventually concede to see their pastor about their marriage, and yes, this is the more Christian element of the story, but there's nothing the pastor tells or shows them about their relationship that a good friend wouldn't say, making the story just as relatable for those without a Christian faith or background.
Ms. Brown paints a vivid picture of this couple's life, even from the opening club scene, which feels authentic and real from the very first line. The lovemaking is described passionately without being overtly crude or racy. I was fascinated and gripped by the surprising twist, which I won't give away here, but enlightened me of the author's incredible storytelling.
4.5/5 suns: This book is a must read, whether or not you believe God can save your soul.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012RJS Book Review: A Chicki Brown Winner
RJS Book Review
As if my summer wasn't hot enough, I had the exceptional pleasure of reading Chicki Brown's latest novel Aint Nothing Like the Real Thing, e-published on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. I'll admit, I wasn't very interested in the book at first because it was categorized as Christian fiction, and (I'm sorry) but Christian romance can be done a little too prudishly for my taste. Not so here. Ms. Brown tells a remarkably realistic story, with all the candor and grace of traditional romance. Her themes are decidedly Christian, but not to the extent that a lover of romance is overpowered or turned off by its message.The novel follows Dee and Michael, an interracial couple (as you can see from the cover) happily married with a toddler and, owners, individually, of two companies. So, why, if they are so happy, does Michael find his way into a daring affair--with a world famous supermodel no less--he meets in his nightclub? Michael does not fail to make things worse; because Dee feels so betrayed by his infidelity and no longer wants to even see his face, Michael moves out--to the model's home. Yeah, you heard me right. That part truly struck a nerve.
What I loved about this story is that even though it's about an interracial couple, the couple's reactions to one another are typical of any man or woman. While Dee does have her characteristic "black woman" moments telling Michael where to go and how to get off, it is an intimate look at how things in a relationship can go horribly wrong, even when everything looks right. Dee and Michael eventually concede to see their pastor about their marriage, and yes, this is the more Christian element of the story, but there's nothing the pastor tells or shows them about their relationship that a good friend wouldn't say, making the story just as relatable for those without a Christian faith or background.
Ms. Brown paints a vivid picture of this couple's life, even from the opening club scene, which feels authentic and real from the very first line. The lovemaking is described passionately without being overtly crude or racy. I was fascinated and gripped by the surprising twist, which I won't give away here, but enlightened me of the author's incredible storytelling.
4.5/5 suns: This book is a must read, whether or not you believe God can save your soul.
July 10, 2012
The First Two Years
Last month marked two years that I’ve been an independent published author. On June 25, 2010, I uploaded my novel, Have You Seen Her? to Kindle and a few months later to Barnes & Noble’s Nook. I’d like to share what I believe I have learned along the way.1) Hiring a professional editor is essential.
Readers are very particular, and they have the right to be, even if they’re only paying 99 cents for your work. But I have noticed that readers are overly critical of indie authors when it comes to typos, grammatical errors and even formatting errors. Considering the fact that I’ve seen these same types of errors in almost every single book I’ve read recently from major publishers, I think the harsh criticism indie authors have received is extreme.
Even though my critique group read every line of each of my manuscripts, we didn’t catch the errors. I didn’t have the money to hire a professional editor with my first three books, but once the royalties started coming in, I used that money to pay for editing on the last three. Since then, I’ve gone back over the first two and re-edited them myself. One more to go …
2) Marketing and promotion can take over your life, if you let it.
For a while, I had allowed those tasks to do just that, until I got to the place where I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, frustrated, irritable and wasn’t fit for human companionship. I’d made the mistake of trying to do everything, which is virtually impossible.
It didn’t take me long to understand why most bestselling authors have assistants. The amount of work an author needs to do every day is enough for two or even three people. Being an indie author, all of the responsibility falls on you, so it’s imperative to learn how to balance writing, marketing and promotion and your business and personal reading. I’m still learning.
If you are able to hire an author’s assistant, do it. If not, it might be possible to delegate certain tasks to a very organized, trustworthy family member.
Since June 2010, I have also discovered that I am capable of learning anything I need to. Formatting for Kindle and Nook was daunting, but I figured it out and became better at it with each new book. Formatting is just the first challenge an e-book author will face. If new e-authors let the first challenge beat them, surely they will be crushed by the other challenges that are soon to come.
Some new e-book authors allow the formatting to frighten them, and they end up paying a service to do it. If you have the extra cash to do that, I say go for it, but if you’re just starting out and have no budget, this is an unnecessary expense. There are many places where you can get help with your formatting, from the Kindle and PubIt! forums to wonderful sites like http://www.cjs-easy-as-pie.com/. Keep that money in your own pocket.
3) Entering the social networking world as an author can be unnerving at best. The differences between groups, boards, pages, and networks could fill an encyclopedia volume. It takes time to learn what’s allowed, when and where. A couple of times I got myself banned from a particular board for posting a promo in the wrong thread on the wrong day, but I sucked it up and moved on. In my opinion, if these folks are that picky about an unintentional slip, then I don’t want to be bothered with them. There are thousands of other places to promote.
That being said, online promotion and marketing takes tact, courtesy, the ability to follow instructions, comply with rules or regulations, and submitting to somebody's authority.
4) Possibly the most important thing I’ve learned is that the indie reading and writing community is incredible. In the past two years, I have met hundreds of wonderful supportive people that have assisted me by answering my questions, directing me to places where I could get help and, most of all, by promoting my work. These folks have invited me to participate in anthologies, to chat with their group online, to speak in person, to visit their blogs/web sites, all free of charge.The indie book community is an amazing machine that is fueled by reciprocation. When we do unto others as we would have them do unto us, great things happen.
I read that before the advent of electronic publishing, the average self-published author only sold a total of 100 copies of his/her book. E-publishing and social networking have allowed me to sell sixty times that amount in less than twenty-four months. The book bloggers, reviewers, bookclubs, and general book lovers have helped to make my dream possible. Women like Dee Dee Scott are doing a fabulous job in telling the reading public about the work of independent authors like myself. All I can say is thank you! [image error]I dare not compare myself with Joe Konrath, Amanda Hocking or John Locke, but I do consider myself a successful author. Of course, sales are important, but I have also given away thousands of books in order to build a readership. My readership is growing daily. There is nothing like the joy I get from reading letters from my readers. My readers. Just saying that phrase is surreal. Getting fan mail is amazing, and I answer every single one I receive.
Can’t wait to see what the next two years brings!
June 29, 2012
Fun Friday
These days when you hear people talking about hybrids, you automatically assume they're talking about cars. Today I want to talk about a hybrid of a different kind. As a romance author, I am always running across Facebook posts and blog entries discussing heroes. Many times, these posts display pictures of the writer's idea of the perfect hero. I've discovered that, depending on the race of the author, the hero of choice usually falls into one of two groups - either the blonde-haired surfer boy type like Brad Pitt
[image error]
or the dark-skinned African warrior type like Djimon Hounsou.
But my perfect romance hero doesn't fit either category. I love the hybrids, the gorgeous bi-racial, multi-cultural guys that look like neither Jason Lewis.
nor IDRIS ELBA
These are my boys ...
Marcus Patrick
Vin Diesel
[image error]Shemar Moore
Dwayne Johnson
Boris Kodjoe
Wentworth Miller
Lenny Kravitz
And even some of the older guys ...
Rick Fox
Mario Van Peebles
Smokey Robinson(a good looking 70 years old!)
If you want to find out the racial makeup of these hotties above, click here: http://www.springoo.com/society/pictures-list-of-over-100-multiracial-celebrities-and-people/ and http://iswirl.info/2010/07/top-10-biracial-actors-actresses/
[image error]
or the dark-skinned African warrior type like Djimon Hounsou.
But my perfect romance hero doesn't fit either category. I love the hybrids, the gorgeous bi-racial, multi-cultural guys that look like neither Jason Lewis.
nor IDRIS ELBA
These are my boys ...
Marcus Patrick
Vin Diesel[image error]Shemar Moore
Dwayne JohnsonBoris KodjoeWentworth MillerLenny KravitzAnd even some of the older guys ...
Rick FoxMario Van PeeblesSmokey Robinson(a good looking 70 years old!)If you want to find out the racial makeup of these hotties above, click here: http://www.springoo.com/society/pictures-list-of-over-100-multiracial-celebrities-and-people/ and http://iswirl.info/2010/07/top-10-biracial-actors-actresses/
