Mark R. Hunter's Blog, page 8

book review: The Hoosiers, by Meredith Nicholson

The Hoosiers is in no way related to our book Hoosier Hysterical, being separated by a century or so and a barrel of laughs. (That is, the one I wrote is a barrel of laughs. Well, I like to think so.)

Some books I recommend despite knowing most of my readers won't be interested. So it is with this centennial edition of The Hoosiers, which came out in 1915, a year before Indiana's hundredth birthday. My wife's bosses loaned me this original copy, which I'd imagine is pretty rare. I even avoided eating and drinking while leafing through the delicate pages.

Much to my surprise, The Hoosiers is available on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/Hoosiers-Cente...


I don't expect it'll get a lot of sales there, but it had several reprints back in the day. Although Nicholson covers the basics of Indiana history, its main focus is the arts: Nicholson goes into detail about early Indiana writers, poets, and occasionally painters, as well as other notable Hoosiers of what was then the olden days (and today is twice as olden).

Some of the notables and their products from back then might be recognizable to today's Indianians (as Nicholson puts it, despite the book's title). She also goes over other groups that brought "cultivation" to Indiana, including religious leaders, lawyers and politicians, and those involved in what would then have been the relatively recent Civil War.

Together those notables are woven together into a look at what Indiana was when first formed, and also what it became by the time of the book's writing. From that standpoint it can be interesting, considering how much things changed in the previous and following centuries.

Just the same, I can't recommend the book unless you're really invested in the minutia of Indiana history. I found it easier to read than I'd expected, and fascinating, but I can't stress enough how much it appeals to a very limited readership.


If you'd like to browse Indiana history in a somewhat lighter way, well ... you know where I'd send you.





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Dimming Hopes: A Veil Of Clouds Might Shroud the Eclipse

I'm a huge astronomy geek. The only way I could get more excited about the upcoming solar eclipse would be if it caused chocolate to fall from the sky.

Just the same, the fuss going on ahead of the April 8th event has passed the hubbub stage, and gone straight into a hullabaloo. I feel compelled to throw some water on the excitement ... and that may be close to literal, in this case.

In 2017 Emily and I drove from her father's house to a state park in Missouri to be in the path of the total eclipse. Even though it was in the middle of nowhere, a good crowd showed up on a very hot August day.

There's your first sign of trouble: August weather is different from April weather. In fact, the odds are it'll be cloudy on the 8th, and it's a short jump from there to rain. In one of my novels a character does a rain dance, but I'm not sure an anti-rain dance even exists.

In the path of totality it'll still be interesting even if it's cloudy. Well, probably: I've only been to one total eclipse, and up until the moment it disappeared the Sun was ripping off our skin.

https://cms.accuweather.com/wp-conten...

Now, I've witnessed several partial eclipses, and they're pretty cool even if you have to look at them through dark glasses. It turns twilight, and sometimes you can see the shape of the eclipse on the ground, focused through tree branches.

But they're nothing like a total eclipse. Nothing. A total eclipse is literally breathtaking. Nature seems to stand still, the wind dies, stars and planets come out. For an brief, incredible moment as the Moon completely covers the Sun, you can look directly at it.

The problem is, the area of the total eclipse is just a hundred miles or so wide.

I haven't heard that talked about a lot, and I'm afraid people not directly in the path are going to be disappointed. Where I live and in the closest city, Fort Wayne, the Sun will be over 90% covered, but not totally. It will NOT be safe at any time to look at the Sun without special protection. It'll still be cool if you're into that kind of thing, as I am.

But we're driving south, to be in the path of totality. It's a long wait for a short event, but it's worth the wait. Besides, it's just as likely to be cloudy here as there. That's the reason why officials are so worried about traffic on eclipse day, especially right after totality: People crowding into that 100 mile long strip, then heading for home.

In 2017 that wasn't a problem for Emily and me: We got there early, and afterward we hit the park trails for a few hours, until the traffic had cleared some. That's our plan this time, too. We'll have a full tank of gas, snacks, fluids, cell phones and their chargers, a few issues of "Writer's Digest", and some print books, too. Hopefully we'll find a place near a bathroom.

So there are your dual problems: Anyone from around here and in many other places will have to travel to see the full eclipse, and even those who don't are likely to find their view spoiled by typical Midwest spring weather. Add the expected traffic jam for an event that will climax over a period of about four minutes, and you could be forgiven for staying where you are and watching most of the sun disappear through eclipse glasses.

But us? We can't wait.



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Remember, reading books is way safer than staring into the sun ... depending on which book.

Four Of Our Books Are Now Audiobooks, Or So I Hear

Four of our books are finally up as audiobooks! Do you hear me?

I know what you're thinking: "But Mark, you can't afford to engineer an audiobook!"

What's that? You're actually thinking, "I wonder if white socks have to be dyed, or if colored socks have to be bleached?" Fine. But just the same, they're up on that audiobook powerhouse, Audible.com.

https://www.audible.com/search?search...

The books, not the socks. I guess the socks would be in the category of Sole Music.

Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing, in one of those cases of "We should have seen it coming", is offering authors a chance to use Virtual Voice to make their works into audiobooks. I was contacted to beta the service, as was, I suspect, every other writer on Amazon. But audiobooks have become a big thing, and I can't afford a service, or the equipment and time to do it myself.

The first one I tried was Storm Chaser. I found the process easy, and the voice acceptable. It is a virtual voice; the term "virtual" has become a dirty word among artists, but this one isn't stealing from someone to make something. Anyone interested in trying it should read a sample first, to see if they're okay with the voice.

https://www.amazon.com/Audible-Storm-...

The second I converted was The No-Campfire Girls. Since the book is almost entirely from the POV of a teenage girl, I chose a female narrator for that one. The price I used for all four books is $3.99, which is low for an audiobook but within reason. Amazon's "free" service gets a cut of that, of course.

https://www.amazon.com/Audible-the-No...

The other two are my straight humor books, Slightly Off the Mark and More Slightly Off the Mark. (This is as opposed to books like Hoosier Hysterical, which are a mix of humor and other things. But they're still funny. Trust me.)

https://www.amazon.com/Slightly-off-M...


https://www.amazon.com/More-Slightly-...

I'd love for these books to get popular enough to generate a series--I have lots of columns to go.

It was only, oh, this week that I found out Audible is now an Amazon owned service, so ... yay!

Of our other books, some I can't get converted to audio right now due to technical problems, which we're working on. Some I just don't think would work as audiobooks. Images of America: Albion and Noble County is a photo-heavy book, and I'm not sure I could do this without permission of its traditional publisher, anyway. Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights is a toss-up, but being a local history book on a niche subject, I'm not sure there's any point in trying.

Listen to a sample and let me know what you think. If it works, it's a great chance to expand our audience. If it doesn't ... well, all it took was a little time out of my life when I would have been watching "Resident Alien".


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Remember: If you're going to hear voices, it's better to know where they're coming from.

Being Allergic To Allergies

When I complained to my surgeon that I was still having symptoms of sinus problems, he stuck a big metal tube up my nostril and worked it around for half an hour. Then he stuck it up my other nostril.

And now I no longer complain to my sinus surgeon--about anything.

Then he asked me how long it's been since I was allergy tested. It turns out people with allergies should be tested every few years or so, because in some cases allergies come and go, such as when you get older and your body starts to break down. Not that I'm describing me. Nope.

It had been ten years, so the next week they used up their entire supply of needles on me. If something swelled up and turned red, it wasn't a rebellious pimple: It was Mother Nature thumbing her nose.

Mother Nature has a big nose.

My entire arm, upper and lower, looked like a Braille dictionary. I was allergic to everything on Earth, half of everything on the Moon, and dust from Mars.

Okay, so that wasn't really true. For instance, I'm not allergic to Timothy Grass, who I'm fairly sure is the lead singer for Three Dog Night. Much to my shock, I'm not allergic to ragweed. Also, although I once had an allergic reaction after fighting a fire in a pine woods, I'm not allergic to pine. There must have been some cottonwood, birch, ash, red cedar, walnut, oak or hickory among those burning pines.

My cat allergy was confirmed, but--surprise!--I'm no longer allergic to dogs. We still aren't getting another one, though: We had the perfect dog for a decade, and he's not so easily replaceable.
Beowulf was very cuddly, and it turns out he never got his dander up.

Otherwise it was all the usual: molds, grasses, dust, politicians, and those dirty, nasty bed mites, which are much like politicians but with higher morals. Plants? Russian Thistle, English Plantain, Bermuda Grass--none a problem as long as I stay here in the good old USA.

Now, all but two of these tested at a "moderate" level. Only two read as severe and one of those was, naturally, Aspergillus, which can cause infections all over the place--including the sinuses.

It's a mold, which is a type of fungus, and (I learned) it can be really, really nasty. Being allergic to Aspergillus is like being especially susceptible to the Black Death.

Then came the real shock, and the second allergy testing at the "severe" level:

Horses.

If you know my wife, you get why hearing that was like being ... well, kicked by a horse.

Emily is what's known as a "horse person".

And what are we going to do about this? Well ... nothing. I mean, sure, Emily will clean up as soon as she gets home, but it's not like I'm going to demand she gives up horses. It would be like telling me to give up chocolate, something I'm NOT allergic to. You gotta do what you love.

As for me, I have to choose between allergy shots and trying to get rid of mold like Penicillium, Eicoccum, and that wonderful Asperigillus, all of which can be found on ...

Books.

Guess I'll take the shots.



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Remember: Every time you don’t buy a book, I start sneezing. Save my sinuses.

Old Firefighters Never Die: They Just Smolder

So, I'm retiring. Not from my full time job of dispatching to become a Gentleman Author, as I wanted. (It's like a Gentleman Farmer, a rich person who just farms as a hobby. No real farmer is a Gentleman Farmer, especially considering their ungentlemanly language while going through bills.)

At my full time job we got an email pointing out, now that one of the Sheriff Department detectives has retired, I have the most seniority of anyone there or in dispatch. By six years. Maybe in the entire Noble County Government, although I'm not motivated to find out.

Nor will I retire from writing, until they pry my fingers from the keyboard. Maybe not even then, if I can manage text to speech. No, I'm retiring from what I've done longest (other than biological functions) in my adult life: firefighting.

I don't know how they do it. I beat my body down too badly. After working a fire, I'd be in so much pain I couldn't function for days. My back pain goes all the way back to back to back fires way back in the 80s, where I wore a steel air tank for longer than even a young pup should. It got progressively worse, and I slowly realized over the last few years that I was threatening to become another victim to treat at an emergency scene, instead of contributing.

In the last year I developed shoulder problems. Recently my knees started acting up, in a temper tantrum kind of way. (And they make strange noises.) I've got arthritis in my big toe, for crying out loud. Ever since Covid, it's been all I can do to get through a day without falling asleep on the couch. Okay, maybe six decades of living has more to do with that than Covid.

I'm not complaining so much as explaining. I loved firefighting. The guys and gals who volunteer at the AFD, and our neighboring departments, are my brothers and sisters--they're family. But I couldn't even go to the station much, especially between those murderous 12-hour night shifts in dispatch that wouldn't happen if I was a gentleman author.

But I put it off. I didn't want to admit I can't do something I used to be able to do. When I finally told my wife I was pulling the plug, she wasn't a bit surprised. Most likely no one was.

So I wrote the membership a letter, and a few weeks later, when we walked into the annual AFD Appreciation Dinner, I saw my name tag and a helmet with my number on it. It was real. I had by then reached the depression stage of grief. I'll let you know when the acceptance stage arrives.

Wow, this turned out to be more of a downer than I'd planned. It's not all bad: I'll stay on as an honorary member, doing the Facebook page, taking pictures, doing public information stuff, and so on. I'm also halfway done with that new AFD book, which keeps getting put on the back burner for one reason after another. But I'm thinking of going to this year's Fish Fry as a diner instead of a server ... that concrete floor is hell on my back.

To this day, I don't know how I worked up the courage to walk into that firehouse door on my eighteenth birthday. Me, the shy, antisocial introvert with no interest in being on a team--except this one. Every time I headed up to the station, I stepped outside my comfort zone. If I hadn't I'd have missed most of the events of my life, and I wonder then if I would have ever had anything to write about.

And for every bad thing I experienced, there were a dozen great things.
Forty-three years. I'll carry them forever ... in a good way.



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Remember: Music makes heart grow fonder, but reading builds the brain.

Tornado Terrors: Twisted Twisters, or Breaking Winds

This coming week is Severe Weather Preparedness Week. Here are some useful safety tips from actual experts: https://www.in.gov/dhs/get-prepared/n...


Some say the best advice you can give when it comes to tornadoes is to keep your insurance paid up and update your will.

I prefer preparation: At the beginning of March, dig a big hole in your back yard, then get into it while wearing a helmet and one of those "Red man" protective suits that a police dog can't penetrate. Then have the hole lined in concrete, and covered with an armored steel plate. The order is very important: Get in the hole before it's sealed off. You might want to bring in water, snacks, a portable toilet, a book to read, and, of course, a bottle of oxygen.

(I would suggest you take along my novel Storm Chaser. 'Cause--theme. Or at least The Wizard of Oz.)

Then, wait until, say, November. Then winter is approaching but hurricane season is past, so you could move to the Gulf Coast. But, because tornado season down there is pretty much year round, you'll have to dig another hole and buy more concrete and steel. Vicious cycle, there.

So, a quick review of weather terms. A severe thunderstorm watch means you might get severe thunderstorms. A severe thunderstorm warning means the light show has started. I don't get what's hard about that, but it still confuses people.

Similarly, a tornado watch means conditions are right for a tornado to form, and you should, you know, watch. In the novel The Wizard of Oz that's literal: Uncle Henry goes outside, watches, and announces, "There's a cyclone coming, Em ... I'll go look after the stock".

How exactly he plans to protect the stock remains unclear, but if there's one thing the movie Twister taught us, it's to to watch for low flying cows. Meanwhile, in the time it takes for Toto to hide under the bed and thus endanger Dorothy (man's best friend--hah), the cyclone is upon them and the next thing you know ... witch pancake.

If Henry only had a radio, TV, alert scanner, or nearby siren, he might have had enough warning to look after the stock and see Em and Dorothy safely to the cellar. The witch would still get smooshed, so--happy ending for all. Except for the Scarecrow on his pole, and the rusted Tin Woodman, and the Winkies being terrorized by the other witch ... okay, bad example.

But hey, it was 1900. The point is, you don't have to literally watch anymore. You don't want to be under that cow when it drops in. Or a house.

Now, a tornado warning means that if you go outside, you will die.

Actually, a tornado or funnel cloud has been spotted in your area, so you may die. Over the years I've managed to take a few pictures of funnel clouds, which puts me firmly in the camp of people who are too dumb to metaphorically (and sometimes literally) come in out of the rain. There are now millions of photos and videos of tornadoes; is it worth having one of your own?

It is not.

What should you do if a tornado warning is declared? Go to a windowless interior room on the lowest level of your house. If you're in a building with no basement--what were you thinking? But lower is always better, anyway.

Windows are bad. Tornadoes, hurricanes, meteor strikes--people get cut up by glass during natural disasters. (I'm not kidding about the meteor strikes: just ask the people in Chelyabinsk, Russia.)

Old timers will tell you to crack a window to equalize pressure, or go to a specific corner of a room, but that's proven to be unhelpful. Besides, the tornado will take care of cracking all the windows. You're better off under a piece of sturdy furniture--Toto had the right idea--that you can hold onto. A small center room, such as a closet, or under a stairwell is good, and a bathtub might offer some protection.

So, let's review: Your safest location is in a bathtub that's in a closet under a stairwell in your basement. My bathroom is the size of a closet, so that's a start.

Actually, your safest location would be in the states of Alaska, Rhode Island, or Vermont, which each average less than one tornado a year. But we're in the Midwest, under the tourism-attracting nickname of "Tornado Alley". Indiana ranks #14 in states for the number of tornadoes. I suspect, if adjusted for square miles, our rank would be higher.

Okay, I just checked. When it comes to tornadoes per 10,000 square miles, Indiana ranks three. When it comes to killer tornadoes we're eight, and when it comes to the total length of a tornado path we're also eight. So there you go. Be afraid. It's only smart. And train your dog to go straight to the storm cellar.

Now, since tornado safety is really a serious subject, here are a couple of links to websites that treat things way more seriously than I do:

http://www.tornadoproject.com/safety/...

http://www.redcross.org/get-help/how-...



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Remember: As long as you have a flashlight, reading is weather resistant.

Mother Nature Is a Tease

She pops out for a day, shows a little leg, smiles demurely, and disappears again, leaving her anxious suitors to suffer through more cold and wet. It’s hardly any wonder that the symbol of weather should run hot and cold, but sheesh – enough is enough.

The stupid groundhog predicted an early spring, but he didn't say it would come all at once. What is a groundhog, anyway? It’s a big rat. Set a trap, somebody.

Even more than usual, our weather pattern looks like a heartbeat on an EKG. It reminds me the old days, when I walked to school barefoot, in a raging blizzard every morning and a blistering heat wave in the afternoon. (Uphill both ways, blah blah blah.)

I really should get around to admitting I only lived two blocks from school.

As a result of the bouncing weather, some people say they'd rather it just stay cold all the time. Their brains are still frozen. Saying cold all the time instead of warm some of the time is like saying that, since you can’t eat 24 hours a day, you’d rather just starve. To carry the heavy comparison further, I’d rather weigh 300 pounds but be alive than be the first member of my family to voluntarily starve to death.

Summer now goes by much more quickly than it used to, and winter – strange as our recent winters have been – lasts much longer. When I was a kid, the average summer lasted eighteen months. Seriously. I would go out to play after breakfast, and wouldn’t come in again for three days, just in time for lunch. The summer when I turned nine lasted for over six years. It’s a science-fictiony mystery, but there you go. We went down to Kentucky for a two week vacation that lasted so long we had to cut down trees to get the car back on the road.

And it never got hot. Kids could wake up in the hospital with two IV’s in their arms to rehydrate them, and have no idea they were ever overheated. Then they’d go home and run back outside again. Sure, most of us didn’t notice the cold, either, but we sure noticed when we started getting feeling back into our limbs. It was like getting a power pinch from our least favorite aunt – all over.

Even the bad things about summer are proof that summer is good:

Bugs? Hate ‘em. But why do they come out during the spring? Because during winter they’re dead. Everything’s dead. It’s a dead season. Mother Nature is dead – the first lightning storm of the spring is like a giant defibrillator, starting her heart back up.

No lawn mowing during winter. Why? Grass is dead. No poison ivy during winter. Why? Dead. Snakes? Dead. No spiders during the winter. (Spiders are not bugs. Bugs are just bugs – spiders are evil.) Even spiders know dead when they see it, although many think it looks like the bottom of my shoe.

Hot and humid is unpleasant, I get that, but nobody's car ever slid into a snowbank because the sun was shining too much. No poor match girl ever froze to death under a shade tree during an Independence Day celebration.

Tornadoes? Terrible things, mile-wide vacuum cleaners. But blizzards have covered half the friggin’ country. Besides, no matter how strong it was, no meteorologist ever mentioned “tornado” in the same sentence as “wind chill”.

Winter even smells dead – spring smells of fresh cut grass, and lilacs, and that earthy scent that comes with a warm summer rain. And yes, it also smells of hot asphalt, and dairy farms, and sweat, but that’s a small price to pay for driving down a country road with the window open and breathing deeply as you pass a cornfield.

Almost everything’s green, with patches of other bright colors like spotting a forgotten twenty dollar bill. Green is life. Winter has no color: It’s black and white and dead all over. I could also go for the cliché and mention the sounds – birds, frogs, insects, all more relaxing than the sound of sleet on siding, or furnaces kicking on. Finally, lest we forget, the feel of walking around in shorts and shirtsleeves, without the accompanying frostbite.

Warmth makes everything a little better. Sure, you can’t store your frozen goods on the back porch, but that’s a small price to pay for opening the window and breathing real air.

So come on out, Mother Nature, don’t be a tease. And don’t bother bringing your winter coat.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
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Remember: If wrapped in plastic, books make good umbrellas. Get hard cover.

A Toy Soldier Story

As a kid, I had to use my imagination. No cable, no video games, no Anarchist Cookbook on the internet. If I’d tried to buy the ingredients for a bomb, the store clerk would have been on the phone to my parents before I reached the door.

Then I’d have to cut my own switch, ending my bomb-making aspirations.

Instead I wandered, literally, over hill and dale, made dams in the creek, plodded through swamps. I had a handful of favorite toys, dogs for companionship, and imagination. Any place was a playground, any object a toy.

Every now and then I still check out the toy aisles, but today’s toys just aren’t interesting. You can’t play with today’s toys. You sit and look at them while they play themselves.

Oh, you might press a few buttons, but they do all the rest. They make noise, flash lights, speak to you, move around, until they need recharged. I’m not talking just about video games, which at least give you hand-eye coordination. But on that subject, what do the game makers brag about most? Better graphics and sound, and realistic cut scenes.

Heaven forbid you should imagine any of that.

We generally got toys twice a year, for Christmas and birthdays. My parents never bought me toys because I got a good grade, or cleaned my room, or avoided juvenile hall. I did that stuff because if I didn’t, I’d have to cut a switch. Getting a switch used on me was bad; having to take that long walk out to the bush to cut one was much, much worse. I’d rather pull my teeth out with pliers and use them to chew off my own ear than get sent out to the bush.

Don’t get me wrong, I got some great toys, it's just that I played with them.

I got a scale model of the Starship Enterprise. I didn't push a button to make it fly: I held it out and whooshed it past my imaginary planets. How did my Enterprise make that “whoosh” warp sound? By me saying, “Whoosh!”

I had to use my – say it with me – imagination.

Have you ever played World War II video games? The realism is amazing, and if you’re not playing with someone, the game console itself moves the other characters around.

I got a Marx "Battleground” play set. Plastic tanks, cannon, flags, landing craft – and get this, landmines, wounded soldiers, and stretchers. I had German, Japanese, British, and Confederate soldiers from several wars. You can’t have enemy troops these days, because the soldiers of Politically Correctness would pitch a fit. You'd probably get in trouble for pitching things, too.

Eventually I learned war is a terrible thing, even when made necessary by various bad guys, but I still loved my play set. My parents, you see, taught me the difference between fantasy and reality. For example, fantasy was seeding my battleground with firecrackers; reality was them finding out and sending me to cut a switch.

Fake battles led to my lifelong love of history, and I've never invaded Russia once, so I think I did okay.

I had a few remarkably “real” guns, meaning they were my size. No one imagined using one to rob a bank, or being mistaken for a gang member. My favorite was a Thompson machine gun, with which I defended our barn many times. No computer program was needed to produce my attackers – they came from my – wait for it – imagination.

Another favorite gun was my Kentucky rifle, a muzzle loading weapon used in the Revolutionary War. My mother called it her mop handle.

But with the mop taken off, it was the perfect size and shape to win our independence. I fought off entire regiments of Englishmen with that rifle, alongside a company of Minutemen that was very much real to me and my imagination. I’m sure I looked ridiculous in the field behind our house, stabbing with the bayonet on my mop handle, getting hit and falling to the ground, then getting up to defend Lexington and Concord yet again. What did I care?

Not that fake warfare was my only interest – not with Frisbees, Matchbox cars, and paper airplanes available. My single speed Schwinn bicycle doubled as a spaceship and police car; walkie-talkies were useful for spy missions; and a beach towel was sufficient to make a superhero costume.

I could go on and on (as my regular readers know.) Two chairs and a blanket made a great tent; small sticks and stones could become a city, waiting on an attack by Godzilla; and oh – what we could do with a cardboard box. The possibilities were endless.

I can’t help thinking today’s kids are missing something important … and I’m not talking about the switch.


Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
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Remember: Books make great bases for your toy soldier battles.

Book Selling Report For 2023, or: Why I Cry

An interesting thing about the publishing industry is that it takes great pains to make sure an author never knows how many books he's selling.

Meanwhile, at certain points in the process, that's the only thing authors want to know.

Actually, the traditional publishers I've worked with have been good about giving me sales reports--every three or six months. But it can be hard to read their reports, in the same way it can be hard for the janitor at a college to understand a blackboard full of physics equations. Well, maybe they can sometimes. A better example would be someone giving me the full schematics on how to wire an electrical system into a house, then expecting me to actually do it.

"Gee, he seemed smart enough to manage. I'm gonna miss him."

When it comes to places that sell your work, such as Barnes and Noble or the elephant in the room, Amazon ... good luck. Most of my books are independently published, so there is no publisher trying to keep track of my sales. You'd think the bookselling websites would do that, but ... well, you'd think more people would read, too.

Maybe I could sell them like donuts. "I'll take a white one, and a blue one, and ...."

I'm telling you all this to explain why, while I've come up with an estimate of my 2023 sales, I have no idea how accurate it is.

Fairly accurate. I think. Within reason.

So, in 2023 we sold 624 books. I think. 482 were e-books, and 142 were print copies. (In 2022 I actually sold a hardcover copy of Images of America: Albion and Noble County. I mention that because, before then, I didn't think you even could buy hardcover copies of our books.)

Our 2022 total was 539 sales, so we're up by 85 books. It's a good number, considering we haven't done an author appearance since the beginning of Covid. Now that I've actually had Covid, I'm not thrilled about going out into crowds in the immediate future, either.

Our best sellers:

151 copies of Coming Attractions.

145 copies of Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest Without Moving At All.

104 copies of Storm Chaser (which was re-released with some fanfare early in the year).

51 copies of The No-Campfire Girls.

The other books were, shall we say, not great sellers. All sold at least a few copies except for Slightly Off the Mark: The Unpublished Columns, which has the disadvantages of having been out for several years, and of being a humor book by someone who isn't already famous.

Still, good money, right?

Well ...

I also experimented with advertising all last year. Online ads did indeed increase our sales, but they didn't lead to a profit. For every dollar in gross sales we made, I spent about two dollars. ("I" because Emily wasn't involved in that pile of commercial misfortune.)

But wait--there's more. Depending on how they were published and where they were bought, our profit was between 60% and 6% of each book sold. The 60% ones were the books Emily slaved and sweated over.

Do that math, and for every dollar we made, I spent five dollars in advertising and promotion.

This is fine for a hobby. I could collect toy trains, or fix up antiques, or bend my elbow at the bar every night, for a similar amount of money. It is not, however, what anyone would call a sustainable business model. It's more like trying to sell your product by screaming out the brand name as you leap off a cliff.

So, I have two goals when it comes to selling books in 2024. One is to sell a thousand copies of our various books in the space of one year. There are a couple of years when I may have done that, but I'm too lazy to go back and do more math--I'd rather think of it as a new obtainable goal.

My second goal is to do that while making more money than we spend. I don't know ... maybe my goal should be to sell the same number as last year, but without taking a loss. Many authors manage to do this.

Not many manage to make a living at it, but if I wanted an easy job I'd be a physics professor.


Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
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Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter
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Remember: Every time you buy a book, an author can buy a cup of coffee to keep him awake while he's writing his next book.

Groundhog For President

The Groundhog came out, saw the Iowa Caucus, and is predicting ten more months of misery.

Actually, the little rodent in Pennsylvania is predicting an early spring this year. I appreciate the thought, and certainly I'll vote for him, but I beg to differ. Here in Indiana, with the exception of one polar vortex that vortexed its way across most of the country, our winter has been pretty mild.

You don't get that here without paying for it.

So my official prediction is cold and snow starting toward the end of February, and lasting through March into April. During March Madness basketball season, some of the snow might be replaced by ice. Otherwise, I stand by my apocalyptic vision.

I'm just the messenger.



Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/&quo... R Hunter"
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914



Remember: Calling in sick and reading for three months straight it totally worth it, right up until the moment your utilities get shut off.