Chris Scully's Blog, page 4

Making the Publishing Choice

At some point, an independent author needs to decide whether to go the traditional publishing route, or try their hand at self-publishing. For me, my initial decision to go with a publisher was an easy one. Getting an “acceptance” letter and signing a contract were always personal goals of mine, as was having a novel in print (more on that soon). Now that those goals are achieved, it may be time to branch out.

I think I’m showing my age, but I always felt that having a publisher lent one an air of credibility. I’m learning that is not always true anymore. I’ve read some great self-published works, and I’ve also read some real duds from reputable publishers. I don’t put them on as high a pedestal anymore. And while we all gripe about some of the grammar in self-published works, I have seen similarly bad mistakes come out of publishing houses too. I’ve also noticed that within my chosen genre, a good portion of the top writers, including those I admire most, use a publisher, so I think it still counts for something.

For an independent author, it’s a tough choice. Publishers take a fair chunk of the royalties, however they do also provide some valuable services in exchange. I readily admit that I am lazy, especially when it comes to administrative stuff. I’d rather spend my time working on my next story. So I happily leave image/ stock photo contracting, formatting, coordinating releases with the major retailers, marketing and updating Goodreads, to my publisher. And don’t underestimate the value of a copy editor; I consider myself to be a decent grammarian and I still am amazed at the mistakes I make. If time is money, then I believe they earn their share.

On the other hand, I’m at my publisher’s mercy when it comes to release date, price and what other titles they are releasing. It can take 6 months to 1 year for a work to get published. And I do have serious concerns about publishers focusing on quantity over quality, and on the slowly increasing list prices. My reputation is linked to that of my publisher, and these things are out of my control.

Believe it or not, something as simple as payment method is also a major consideration, especially for authors outside the US. Many indie publishers want to use PayPal for non-US authors, however PayPal charges exorbitant exchange rates and essentially forces me to convert to Canadian dollars even though I have a US dollar account at a Canadian bank. I’ve just learned that Kindle Direct Publishing does not use PayPal, so that option is looking a little more attractive to me these days. For now though, my publisher is still cutting checks—something for which I am extremely grateful.

I’ve been told that you can make more self-publishing. I suppose that’s true, but it’s also a lot more involved. I admire those that do it. Some days I barely find the time to check email, so I’m in awe of those who dedicate their time to doing everything themselves. I love the idea of one day trying my hand at self-publishing, but I’m not sure that day is here yet.

I’d love to know what you think, as readers and authors (of any genre). Does publisher play any part in your decision to buy or to write? Is the self-publishing revolution taking over? Share your thoughts.

Where have all my readers gone?

I look forward to quarterly sales figures with a mixture of dread and anticipation. The news is either good or bad. It either validates and motivates me to continue, or sends me into a tailspin of self-doubt. When I first started my writing journey I said I didn’t care about sales, but it turns out that I do to some extent. Not because of the money—I’m rapidly learning you can’t get rich doing what I’m doing—but for the same reason we all count Facebook friends and twitter followers. It validates us, boosts our self-esteem. I love the thought of people reading what I write and yes, of being liked. I find I can handle bad reviews better than low sales because in the former case someone actually took time to read and review (and they are pretty clear about what they didn’t like) but in the latter you usually have no way of knowing why someone didn’t chose you.

In December 2012 I published a novella called ‘Inseparable’, and I was thrilled with the reception it received. It got generally good reviews and the sales, while not comparable with major authors, surpassed my expectations for a short novella in a limited genre, with no marketing and that was only available electronically. For a while I was sure that someone had mixed up the sales figures. Almost exactly a year later, I published the sequel ‘When Adam Kissed Me’. Now, sequels are tricky things and not everybody likes them: I didn’t write a sequel to cash in on the original’s success, but because I had more story to tell. Still, I had a guesstimate in my head that I could count on achieving 75% repeat readers. I thought that was a reasonable figure to account for those who either hated the first one or didn’t care about it enough to want to read a follow-up. I would hopefully make up those number by attracting new readers.

Sadly it was not to be. Now six months after its release, my sequel isn’t even at a quarter of the original sales, even with additional marketing this time. So my question is… why? Was it a conscious decision? Did I fail to make an impression? Was it poor marketing? Aside from some initial hurt feelings over the loss of potential readers, and the thought I may have disappointed some, I’m genuinely curious to know what happened so I can improve next time. Unfortunately, there is almost no way of ever finding out. As an author you tend to only hear from people who really enjoyed your work or hated it. They’re the ones who take the time to write the reviews (good and bad) or email you. But there is obviously a huge percentage of “in-betweeners” who don’t feedback. I guess I’m guilty of this myself as a reader. It’s them I need to reach.

Now that I’ve moped for a bit, I am trying to re-group and come up with a strategy for when my debut novel comes out early next year so the same thing doesn’t happen. If you have any simple marketing strategies or tips for winning readers back you’d like to share, please post a comment. I’d love to hear them.

Who do you think you are? Finding your voice as a writer

At some point in their journey a writer needs to find his or her voice. By this I mean what are you going to be known for? “Voice” is that combination of style, genre and “je ne sais quoi” that elevates a story to the next level and puts a writer into their “zone”. I think there are plenty of writers who never find it—they try to emulate others or force themselves into molds—but when you do find it, it’s like the G spot—you know it.

I always wanted to be a romance writer. When people ask me what I write I’m still somewhat embarrassed about it, because let’s face it, a lot of people are book snobs. And saying I write gay romance is even more challenging. But back to my point; I never cared about literary awards or contests or writing the Great Canadian novel. I’m happy writing happy stories about people falling in love. Even if I eventually move into other genres, romance will always be part of my “voice”. And yet, the first time I tried my hand at a writing career (writing traditional m/f romance) the responses I got were that they weren’t unique enough. I still laugh at this because every romance publisher says they want “unique” but that’s rarely reflected on the shelves. Regardless, when I look back now on these early works I can see something was missing from them. I hadn’t found my “voice”, that spot where I belonged. I think in my case, the right genre didn’t exist yet.

When I wrote my first novella for Dreamspinner I had an inkling that I had at last found my niche, or maybe it had found me, because the words flowed so naturally. When I wrote my second, I knew I was home. After a twelve year hiatus from writing, I felt a level of new creativity that I had never felt before. I began to eat, sleep and breathe my characters.

How can you find your “voice”? Read, read, read. I believe you have to be a reader to be a good writer. I don’t know how else a writer can develop their own style and place in a genre. Only by reading can you figure out where you fit, what you want to contribute, what you want to change. You also have to be patient and let your “voice” emerge; I learned this the hard way on the novel I just completed (out later this year) by trying to force it into being something it was not. And when I forced it, the feedback I got was that it didn’t work. Quirky, flirtatious dialog is my thing—my “voice”—and that didn’t work with the serious mystery angle I was going for. Once I stopped suppressing that, everything came together.

You also need to keep writing. Look for patterns in your writing, re-occurring themes or styles. Are there passages in your story that jump out, while others seem to fade into the background. Are your thoughts flowing or do you have to force them onto the page? This could be your subconscious showing you your true “voice”. Develop a mission statement for yourself, or a summary of what readers can expect from you (like the one I’ve done below) and review it periodically to see if what you’re writing is living up to those ideals. If you don’t know who you are as a writer, it will show in your work.

After three years of reading and writing in my genre I think I have a good idea of who I am and where I want to be. While the tone of my writing may change from light and playful to sad and angsty depending on my mood, there are some universal elements.

So who is Chris Scully?

Style: My writing style is sparse, with minimal exposition and an emphasis on showing character through actions, dialog etc. and not through a lot of backstory. I’m big on showing, not telling. Point of view can vary but I tend to favor first-person because it makes for a more intimate story.

Characters: ordinary, everyday “Joes”—no millionaires, models, guys with 6 packs; generally older (30+) because I’m tired of all these young men who have it together and generally act like they’re a decade older than they are routinely popping up in stories (not like any of the twenty-somethings I know). Sarcastic characters feature prominently.

Subject matter: No dark and heavy subjects like rape, incest, hate crimes etc. Even if there is (as in the novel I’m currently writing) it’s given a lighter treatment, usually occurring way in the background and is not the focus of the story. There are plenty of other writers who do angst far better than me so I’ll leave them to it.

Plot: I gravitate more to “slices of life”, character driven stories, but I have also been working on trying to incorporate more plot. I hope to eventually do both. My stories are reality-based with no fantasy elements.

Heat level: working my way up the heat ladder, but generally sex is not the focus for me as a writer. I write romance, not erotica. It’s not because I have a problem writing sex scenes, it’s because so much of so-called gay “romance” is focused on the sex that I don’t want to be the same, even though that seems to be what sells. Personally I find it so overdone now that I’m getting bored with it. It’s like porn—five minutes in and they’re already f—ing. Lots of other hot stuff to do, people!

Endings: Always a happily ever after (or a happy for now). I generally leave endings a bit open, which I know can frustrate people, but it’s always an implied happy ending.

Beta-reader Beware

I did something incredibly rash and foolish. I gave my manuscript to a total stranger to read.

A couple of weeks ago, I met a new author on a Goodreads group discussion. She was looking for beta readers and I volunteered. We seemed to have similar opinions on critiquing and we agreed to critique each other’s works. I promptly read and critiqued hers, but when it came time for mine she didn’t seem to be in a hurry. As the days dragged on I started to freak out. What had I done? I had given my manuscript to a person whose real name I didn’t even know. The more I thought about it, the more I worried. Although I can easily prove copyright, I started to think about what I would do if someone stole my ideas, my manuscript.

Beta readers are critical to an author. An author needs someone independent to provide feedback. Usually you would rely on an editor for that, but with smaller independent publishers you don’t always get that type of editor. They focus more on grammar, typos etc., and less on flow, continuity, characterization. So far I have managed without beta readers, using my own judgement on what I write, and it hasn’t been a problem—but those were short, simple novellas. I have just written my debut novel and it is much longer, has plot twists and clues, and it really needs an independent eye to make sure that it all works together. Unfortunately I don’t have a writer’s network right now. My friends are either a) not interested in my writing career or b) not really into the genre. I feel like when I ask them to review I am forcing them into it. And I also question whether they can be unbiased enough. So I was eager to jump into having a beta reader without thinking through the repercussions.

It’s scary stuff sending your baby off to a stranger. Not only because of the possible feedback, but because you don’t know what can happen with your story. With self-publishing it is so easy to steal someone else’s work and very difficult to punish the offenders. In the end, everything seems to have worked out. My beta-reader provided some critical feedback, and after my initial melt down I realized she was right and that I had made a very obvious mistake which I should have caught myself. Now I am busy reworking my novel; while I’m not exactly thrilled about that, I know it is the right thing and I would rather spend the time now than publish something less than perfect.

Would I do it again? I’m not sure. I still see the value of beta-readers but I think I will have to find a better way that doesn’t stress me out so much. An environment where I can have more trust. For any author considering using beta-readers here is my advice:

1)      Be up front with your beta reader about your expectations. Make sure they can be honest. If you want them to focus on a particular aspect let them know. Make sure they are comfortable with your genre. Set a reasonable deadline. Beta readers are volunteers. Even though they say they are available and excited to review your work, sometimes crap happens and they can’t get to it. It helps to think of your beta reviewer as a potential job candidate—what would the job description look like?

2)      Take the time to get to know your beta reader first. Giving something to a beta reader requires trust, and I am not a very trusting person. I only wish I had remembered that at the time. How do you know this person won’t make a copy or steal what you gave them? Are they a writer too? Think about where you met them. Are they using a pseudonym?

3)      Don’t use friends or family as beta-readers unless you are absolutely sure they will give you the level of unbiased feedback you need and also really want to read your stuff. The people close to us sometimes have a hard time saying “no”. Not everyone is as enthusiastic about your story as you are and it’s easy to become resentful if they don’t take it as seriously as you do. It can affect relationships. I learned this the hard way, asking a friend for help with my mystery and then waiting two months for feedback which never came. Knowing that she couldn’t spare 5 hours to skim my manuscript (no matter how bad) hurts more than any critique or just saying “I don’t want to” would. I’m still struggling to get past this.

In the end it’s up to you authors. An independent review never hurts—just be safe while doing it.

Staying Motivated: Rewards

As I near the finish line of my first completed novel, it gets harder and harder to stay interested, to stay motivated. There are no new ideas or scenes anymore, only revisions and tweaks and filling in the details—in other words, the boring stuff; the words come slower and with more difficulty, my mind already wanting to jump ahead to the next story when this one still isn’t done. I force myself to keep going. Sometimes the only thing that gets me through is the reward waiting for me at the end.

Children aren’t the only ones who respond to rewards. I’ve used them throughout my writing process to celebrate milestones or to get me through a tough time. It’s important to keep striving, and if a little bribery is what it takes then hey, why not do it?

I think it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves. We tend to leap to punish when we mess up or fail to perform, instead of focusing on rewarding the small victories. And yes, sometimes punishment is necessary but not if you’re trying to motivate. It has been proven that rewards and recognition are the strongest factors in getting peak performance out of anyone. Too much punishment and you just give up.

Initially I set rewards for major milestones, like when I hit the half-way point, when I finish etc.; these mini-celebrations make me feel good and give me a sense of accomplishment. I’m not ashamed to admit that a little bribery works for me. I already have my “big” reward planned for when the novel is completed and submitted—it’s something I’ve wanted for several years now as I keep starting things and never finishing. I’ve held off on it, dangling it out there as enticement to finally complete a novel. It’s what is keeping me at this computer today.

Rewards don’t have to be big or expensive. I’m not talking about a pair of new shoes or fancy trips or things like that. I prefer to use every day things. Oftentimes I will make deals with myself that if I can just finish my daily quota I will treat myself to a Starbucks latte, or a nice cold rum and coke, or I will allow myself to sit down and read a book I’ve been waiting to read or watch a little porn. These are things I might do anyway, but putting sense of achievement around them makes me work harder. If I happen to fail in my goal, I also don’t feel too badly about missing out. These little things make all the difference mentally. It’s not as though I’m only writing to get the reward—the novel is my ultimate reward—but an incentive now and then goes a long way.

Today I reached my 60K milestone, which is the minimum word count for a print edition with my publisher—anything after that is bonus. My reward for this…? Pizza for dinner and a night of binge watching House of Cards. See what I mean? It doesn’t take much!

Staying Motivated: Setting realistic targets

I am now into the second month of my “full-time” writing experiment and I thought I would share some of my tips and experiences on trying to stay motivated.

I am the worst kind of writer: emotional and prone to procrastination, meaning there are times when I feel like writing and when I don’t (the latter scenario being the most common). I would happily sit around daydreaming and developing stories all day, but getting them down on paper is hard for me. But if you hope to write for a living you can’t operate like that. So for me the first and biggest challenge was setting a schedule/ routine and realistic targets. And learning to stick to them. My goal was to still keep writing enjoyable and not make it seem too much like work.

I try to write in the mornings and get it out of the way; if that makes writing sound like a chore, well, sometimes it can be. I’m also freshest in the morning as sometimes sleeping on an idea can reawaken my interest or send me in a new direction. It’s important to also set realistic targets based on your life and situation. I’m still dealing with a lingering (but much improved) repetitive stress injury so I have to be careful on how hard I push myself. I also know that I have a short attention span and get bored very quickly. Targets will be different for everyone and you may need to experiment a little to find one you can live with. I recommend setting targets you know you can meet or exceed, and then you won’t get discouraged. But if you set your targets too high and repeatedly fail to meet them, all you will do is destroy whatever motivation you may have.

I don’t believe in setting pages as targets. Pages don’t mean much in the electronic publishing world, and also when you’re typing, page count doesn’t seem to increase very fast; it’s easy to get discouraged when you spent all day typing and only ended up with 3 pages. So I prefer to measure by word count. This is much more reaffirming because you can see your count increase rapidly. I established a target of 1000 words per day and so far I have stayed on track. This may seem low to some, but it’s something that works for me. Some days those 1000 words can take me 1 hour and other times it can take me all day to fill that quota. If I’m on a roll I can keep going and bank some words, but my minimum is 1000 words. If I finish early in the day, I use the extra time to do research or the many errands I need to run. If you need more flexibility you can also set targets by week or month, but I need the structure, so daily works best for me. It also helps to establish a routine. At the end of each day I record my word count in my calendar to keep track.

My target is also reasonable enough that if I miss a day, it is not too difficult to catch up. When I lost power at Christmas I was glad of this because it didn’t take me too long to get caught up on all the days I missed. Most of all, 1000 words per day is achievable even on those days I don’t feel like writing. If I’m feeling particularly uninspired, I still force myself to sit down and write…anything—sometimes I will just go back and flesh out scenes or add random details—and before I know it, I’ve met my quota. If my daily quota was higher, I doubt I would be so diligent. This gets me in the habit of writing every day.

I will never be one of those authors who churn out a title every other month—I accept that. Maybe over time I will get faster, but right now I have found the formula that works for me. For the publishers I’m considering, 60,000+ words is considered novel length and I feel that mine will be somewhere around the 70K mark when it’s all done. I figure 3 months to write and edit a novel is a significant accomplishment for a first-timer. I’ve already passed the dreaded hump and now I’m headed toward the finish line.

FREE bonus chapter for Rebound

To celebrate the holidays (and surviving the Toronto ice storm) and say thanks to all you readers, I’ve posted a free bonus chapter to my Christmas novella Rebound (available now from Dreamspinner Press). This very short story (17 pgs)  takes place a couple of months after the events of Rebound, as Emmett and Sky continue to get to know one another. You could say it’s an epilogue of sorts.

Read online or download PDF.

Enjoy and Happy Holidays

Excerpt: Rebound

Rebound will be available from Dreamspinner Press starting December 1, 2013 for individual download or as part of the 2013 Advent Calendar. Since there is no excerpt up on the site yet I am posting one here.

Christmas is a time for peace, love, and goodwill toward mankind. Not! More like cheating exes and absentee friends. For Emmett Byrd, spending the holiday season with his old college friend Terry in San Diego is supposed to be about mending his broken heart. But when Terry deserts him at the last minute, leaving Emmett alone in his condo for Christmas, it’s just the icing on the cake of a crappy year full of betrayal and lost love. The only Christmas spirit this Scrooge is feeling is the alcoholic kind. Then, a slightly kooky, unsophisticated farm boy named Sky knocks on the door looking for Terry, and a case of mistaken identity reawakens Emmett’s hope in happily ever after.

Rebound, 60 pages. Available December 1 from DSP

“You’re sush a dick.” Emmett Byrd cursed for what he figured had to be the billionth time since he arrived. He ignored the increasing slur in his words as he drained the last drops of wine from the bottle into his glass. Drinking from expensive crystal stemware made getting hammered far more civilized, he told himself as he toasted the life-size black-and-white art photo of Terry’s nude, well-defined body, which dominated an entire wall of the living room. His friend—scratch that, ex-friend—glanced coquettishly over his shoulder, eyes down, a hint of smile to his lips as if teasing the viewer; the light and shadow played off the muscles in his back and ass as he flexed, highlighting the tattoo at the base of his spine. The effect was visually arresting even if it was incredibly pretentious. The photographer was talented—Terry, not so much. “Sheriously. Could you be any more conceited?” Emmett muttered, his voice booming in Terry’s empty, sterile condo.

Emmett hated this place, hated the hard stained concrete floors, the stark white walls and uncomfortable chrome and leather furniture. Fashionable but empty. Just like Terry. It so wasn’t him. His practical nature had always preferred function over form and comfort over style, no matter how much Andy had tried to steer him in the other direction. It was a good thing too, since he was back on a modest single income again and style could be damned expensive.

Two weeks ago, in a moment of loneliness, he had agreed to keep a newly brokenhearted Terry company for the holidays. Since Emmett was well into the seventh month of his own suddenly solitary life, it had seemed the perfect solution—a chance to commiserate together—and, at the time, it had beaten a cold and snowy Christmas alone in Chicago; however, at the moment the only thing that had changed for Emmett was the scenery.

He had arrived in San Diego on Friday, ready to start the pity party Terry had promised him, only to find Terry packing his Louis Vuittons for a weeklong fuck fest in Palm Springs with his on-again, off-again boyfriend, Rick. Somehow during the course of Emmett’s four-and-a-half-hour flight from Chicago, Rick had gone from “off” to “on-again.” Emmett might have been happy for them, except for the fact that Terry and Rick’s volatile relationship hit the skids every other month, and Emmett was the primary recipient of Terry’s drunken texts. Now, the one time Emmett needed a shoulder of his own to cry on, his friend went AWOL. “But it’s different this time,” insisted Terry as he dropped his keys on the counter and ran out to Rick’s idling Beemer. Sure it was. Until the next time one or both of them got restless and decided to pick up a trick in a bar and the other got jealous. Emmett grimaced. Was there any man out there who wouldn’t disappoint him?

Finishing the last of his wine, Emmett flopped down onto the black leather Barcelona chair, forgetting too late that one did not flop onto furniture that cost more than his monthly rent payment. He winced as his butt hit the rock-hard cushion. Immediately, sweat began to collect along the backs of his thighs as his shorts rode up and his bare skin stuck to the leather. Great, just another perfect turd in the toilet bowl of his life.

So here he was now, two days before Christmas—his first in twelve years without Andy (the asshole)—alone in Terry’s Mission Beach town house instead of alone in Chicago, working his way through Terry’s ample wine fridge. On the upside, Terry had enough bottles to last until next week if he was careful, or the day after Christmas if he wasn’t. The latter scenario was looking more likely. And, unlike Emmett’s of late, Terry’s wine did not come in a box.

Half the problem was that it didn’t even feel like Christmas with the palm trees outside the window and the warm breeze blowing through the patio doors. It was hard to stay angry and depressed when the sun kept shining, and dammit, he wanted to stay angry and depressed. Emmett never thought he’d miss the cold and the snow, but right now he did. Almost as much as he missed Christmas shopping on Michigan Avenue with Andy—although to be fair, they hadn’t done that in years—or preparing for the big party they always hosted on Christmas Eve for Andy’s work friends. Even the sound of the ocean, discernible over the traffic, was nothing but an irritation to his irascible senses. He was assailed with an unexpected bout of homesickness that brought tears to his eyes. Oh, well, nothing another bottle of Terry’s finest wouldn’t cure, Emmett mused. He wondered if Terry had taken his stash of weed with him. Maybe he’d search for it later.

The doorbell rang just as Emmett detached himself from the leather chair with a loud ripping sound. He checked to make sure that he hadn’t left a pound of flesh behind and then had to clutch the backrest as the room spun. What a lightweight. He’d never really been able to hold his liquor, although he definitely made for a cheap drunk. Emmett shuffled to the door and peered through the spy hole, but his view was blocked by a field of blue-and-white plaid. With a grumble he yanked open the door and was nearly squashed when the big blond man leaning against it tumbled into the foyer. He had a quick thought that it wouldn’t have been so bad to be squashed beneath that hard plaid-covered chest. Even in his pleasantly inebriated state, Emmett felt a jolt of surprise; it had been a long time since he noticed things like that.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” rumbled the man, who, although taller than Emmett, wasn’t as big as he first seemed. At Emmett’s height, everyone seemed big. “I nearly squashed you there.” He cocked his shaggy blond head and gazed at Emmett with the darkest blue eyes Emmett had ever seen. “You’re not Terry.”

Since Terry was six feet tall, slender, and platinum blond, and Emmett barely made five foot seven, was perpetually rumpled, with a dark buzz cut and black-rimmed glasses, the comment was ridiculous. Bitchy, drunk Emmett came out to play. “Really? How could you tell? Maybe we’re twins.”

“Nah, you don’t look anything alike,” the man said with true sincerity. Emmett blinked in surprise, wondering just how drunk he was. “Is Terry here?” the blond asked with a smile that could melt the polar ice caps. A set of delicious dimples peaked through a day’s worth of golden peach fuzz.

Oh, Christ, not another one.

The Pressure Mounts

Do you think Stephen King gets nervous before a release date? Not that I’m comparing  myself to the Master of Horror by any means. I’m just wondering if the waiting and pressure ever gets easier, even for superstar writers. My new novella ‘When Adam Kissed Me‘ drops November 6 and I can honestly say I don’t recall the last time I was so nervous about anything. I used to tell myself that I only wrote for myself, and to some extent that is still true, but popular opinion is impossible to avoid and get wrapped up in. No one really wants to see their baby trashed.

I’m usually pretty confident about my writing (sometimes even over confident), but his time I’m filled with second guesses and “what ifs?” When I first finished writing ‘Adam’, I thought it was awesome. But several months of waiting, and re-reading, and editing have left me wondering if that’s really the case. I’ve read it so many times that I’m almost sick of it. All I see now are the tiny flaws and the things I missed or  would change if I had a chance. Technically I still know it’s good, but is it my best? If you asked me six months ago, I would have said yes; now I would say, I can still do better.

I was never so uptight about my first stories, but Adam and Joe, my main characters hold a special place for me so I want–no, need–to do them justice. And of course I had to go and write a sequel, so I’m left with the added pressure of having to live up to the first novella. Seeing all the Goodreaders who have already flagged it for their “To-Read” shelf has given me a major case of butterflies and I feel like I’m a kid again waiting for that critical grade. I suppose it’s not so much that I worry they won’t like it (there are always bound to be readers who don’t)–it’s more that I don’t want to disappoint people or leave them feeling cheated. That’s especially tough with sequels. Many a time I’ve felt let down by a sequel, and in one case recently I actually felt betrayed by what I saw as the author’s complete turnaround in character behavior. Ack! My stomach is already in knots just thinking about it.

Now that I’ve realized I want to make a career out of writing, I’m feeling double the pressure. As a writer there is always the next story, the next book, another opportunity to improve, but it’s hard to get someone to give you a second chance if you’ve let people down. First impressions are still the most important.  I want to build a reputation as a reliable, entertaining writer.

I know it’s good to be nervous–it means you care and want to do your best–but dang I don’t know if my stomach can take this every time. I sure hope it gets a bit easier.

BTW I’ll be over guest blogging about the challenges of sequels and “friends-to-lovers” on the Dreamspinner Press blog on November 7 to celebrate the release, so stop by.

The Business of Writing

After the fun of crafting amazing new characters, the excitement of signing that contract, and the joy of that first royalty cheque, comes the hard reality, and for me, the most difficult part of writing: marketing and promotion.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m somehow moaning and groaning and being forced to blog, but I’ve never been very good at self-promotion, at standing up and saying “look at me”. Even under a pseudonym it’s still challenging. Each year at work when it comes time for the annual performance review process, I cringe, because that’s all about self-promotion. As an introvert, I’m happiest in the background, getting things done, and if other people notice, great; if not, well I know I’ve done a good job. But in the writing world that doesn’t always work, especially if you want to make a living from it.

When I first started seriously writing two years ago I had a full-time job. Writing was a hobby, an escape from my hated day job, and a personal milestone of mine. The very fact of just getting something into print was enough for me. I put my stories out there, no Facebook, no Twitter, no blog, and waited to see what would happen with no expectations. The nice emails and reviews from readers were unexpected bonuses. I was thrilled with the reception to Inseparable. I’m embarrassed to admit it went to my head and I got a little cocky with my colleagues in IT land. But unlike performance appraisals, where I’m told how I rank against my colleagues, I have no way of measuring my success. I can’t tell if my sales are below average, average or better than expected. I don’t even have any real idea of the size of the market other than some internal “guesstimates” based on the number of members in the Goodreads M/M group. So the only thing I can really compare myself against is… myself.

I am my own worst critic, so my personal goal is to continually improve with each new story and try new things. But hey, sales and readers are important too! I’ve enjoyed the last two years, writing short stories—it’s been fun, and because I’ve only been “dabbling”, the pressure is all of my own making. But lately, now that said full-time job is disappearing, I’ve been considering moving onto the next phase and making writing a more serious pursuit. Like a character in my upcoming novella Rebound says, maybe it’s the Universe sending me a sign. But to become a Writer (with a capital W) means I have to stop thinking of it as a hobby and more as a business. And that means coming up with a marketing plan. I have two novellas coming out with Dreamspinner Press in the next few months, and it will be interesting to compare the sales for those against last year’s. Will it be better? Worse? I certainly think that these two novellas are technically better than my others, but will that translate to readers? I’d love to show some growth, but to do that, I will finally have to bite the bullet and get out there and do some virtual cheer-leading.

I am still torn about the whole thing. As a reader, an author’s marketing doesn’t affect me much at all; I don’t “follow” anyone, I don’t routinely check author’s blogs or websites, and yet I consider myself a serious reader. I still buy quite a lot of books. I suppose of all things, I am most inclined to be swayed by reviews, but even those have limited impact on my reading habits. So there is a part of me that wonders how much value do these things really add? At the same time I’m savvy enough to realize that times are changing, and independent authors especially, need to get themselves out there, generate buzz and spread the word. Readers aren’t going to stumble across my stuff by chance in the bookstore; they need to know I’m out there and how to find me. This blog was the first step, but now it’s time to go further. It’ll be a learning process for me, and I expect some ups and downs, but I’m ready to start. Prepare for Operation Get Noticed.