Susan Thatcher's Blog, page 11

Shedding the Light Fantastic

My mother would sometimes define an optimist as one who could look at a room filled with horse shit and declare, “There must be a pony in here somewhere.”

Up to now, my 2014 has been such a room.

To begin, I was asked to leave the home I’d lived in for 18 months back in February. My laptop has been in a coma for a couple of months. I have not worked at my usual occupation (due diligence underwriting) since October 2013. My year to date income has been far below the poverty line. Tom Lehrer, a singing satirist (and Harvard mathematician) of the early 1960s had a line in one of his songs about “sliding down the razor blade of life.” And yes, my dream man went and got himself hitched to a far better version of me.

And the ring he gave her was close to an imaginary one I “designed” for “These Foolish Things” over a decade. Same platinum setting, same diamonds on the side, but the emerald cut central i imagined was blue, not canary.

my idea.

the real deal.

Okay. My dream came true. What I had imagined and written has manifested. For someone else.

I really need to work on my aim. Nobody would want to see me with a gun.

I’m choosing to look at it this way: all these “losses” are a kind of metaphysical shedding. If you have a dog or cat or horse, when it’s time for the seasons to change, the old coat comes out (all over your clothes, especially if it’s a white cat and you’re wearing black) to make way for the new coat.

The things falling away (and I was going to insert a hyperlink to the Gin Blossoms singing “Until I Fall Away,” but it really doesn’t fit) are things that no longer serve me.

The room I was renting: the relationship with my landlady/roommate had turned decidedly poisonous and the tension was unbearable. Though my housing is not stable, I am no longer a garbage can for someone’s anger, frustration, and resentment. I don’t have to fear walking through the front door. Of course, I I need a new front door PDQ. However, there is now room in my life for it.

As for Mario the Laptop biting the dust, had my finances remained as good as they were 2 years ago, I would have replaced him by now. There is now room in my life for a replace to to appear.

George? I met the man. I made him laugh. I can point to him and say, “There. There’s the floor model of what I want. I don’t need the same exterior, but the head, heart, and humor? Yeah. Those, I need.”

If you’re a friend on Facebook (my personal page), you know I post “good wishes” every night. “May you advance towards your goals today,” etc. I have an ulterior motive ; if what I’m writing is showing up in my reality, then why not put into words what I’d like to have pop up in my life? Side benefit: people take comfort from the messages. I’m spreading good vibes, surely not a bad thing.

Crowded House, “Dont Dream It’s Over.”

This is what’s stuck in my head tonight and I don’t know why. Maybe things aren’t over as far as getting life back on track.

Some precious things that I have retained are friendships, both people here around me and those over the phone and on Facebook. I draw my strength from the love that is shown me. The has been a year where some long-standing close relationships have been irreparably damaged,but then, I never heard from these people unless they wanted something and they showed me numerous times that I didn’t really matter to them (don’t ask me What I want for a gift and then ignore my answer because it’s not to YOUR taste). That’s fine. I’ve got Marie, Andy, Andy, Chris, Kem, Kelly, Kelli, Aileen, Diane,Whitney, Niki, Tami, Brandi and Brandy, Sandy, Mandi, Nan (all three have the same birthday), Sue, Cookie, Kathy, Jim, Ruth, Charlotte, Sherry, Tanya T, Monique, Kristy and Kristi, Danielle, Karen, 2 Jens, Darci, Jodianne, Greg, Kelley, Skip, Debbie, and those are just the folks I’ve talked to this week.

I will close with a classic from Liverpool:

The Beatles “It’s Getting Better All the Time”

It’s Autumn

While the title might indicate a remarkable grasp of the obvious with respect to the seasons, it’s a nod to a Barbra Streisand song that’s been stuck in my head today. It’s off her “People” album (coincidentally, 50 years old this year). I hadn’t heard the song or the album in…46 (?) years. It’s not one of her big hits, but somehow, it stuck in the brain of a three year old. (My mother used to play Sinatra’s “September Of My Years” non-stop until I was as depressed as Frank. She admitted to feeling self-pity over turning 30. Yeah, 30. When I got her the CD, I did so with the proviso that she was never to play it in my presence. This condition pissed her off, but then, her self-pity wasn’t a barrel of monkeys for a 5 year old).

Link here:

“Autumn” sung by Barbra Streisand

She’s singing of a lost love, not something on my mind.

No, the lines that are sticking with me are “although the breeze is still, I feel a chill, it’s autumn.”

In my own bout of self-pity, the lines resonate, and well, if Barbra doesn’t resonate, I can always go Jay Z and “99 Problems” because a bro ain’t one of ‘em.

The calendar reminds me that I am at the end of a particular piece if good fortune: when I needed a place it live in a hurry, the current roof over my head was offered to me, free of charge, within 24 hours, and I’ve even gotten a 2 week extension on my presence here. However, time’s up. And I need another such miracle.

I found a job in January when my unemployment benefits ran out. It paid poorly and the hours were irregular, but I couldn’t find anything in my usual, much higher-paying field. And 10 months later, I still haven’t. My boss made a dumbass comment the other day when I said something about how closely everything has to be budgeted, including and especially how much gas I use to get to work. I looked him in the eye and told him, “$9.50 an hour doesn’t go very far, even at 40 hours.” He didn’t have a comeback.

Progress I had made at improving my credit has been undone by this situation. Word to the wise: it takes ages, a dispensation from the Vatican, and the intervention of Seal Team 6 to raise your credit score, but that sucker WILL fall by 60 points overnight if you miss credit card payments. It’s a rigged game. Know this as you play.

I am a strong person; given the trajectory of my life, it’s been a necessity. There are times, though, when even the strongest collapse from the weights on their shoulders.

Although one of my friends, who is a world-class psychic, has assured me that things will come through in “the eleventh hour,” in my mind, it’s 11:45 and the clock is running.

“I am where I need to be” has applied, in a literal sense, to my job of test driving cars and making sure I’m in the right lanes to stay on my route or avoid a blocked lane. It has applied, also in a literal sense, to my housing, as I am in a place that matches the homes I’ve daydreamed of buying/renting (so I know it exists) and at an affordable rate. It’s been quiet, beautiful with flowers and fruit and hummingbirds to delight. I’ve felt safe, secure, and until this week, at peace.

“It’s autumn” also refers to the time of my life. I’m over 50. While I have skills, education, and experience (not to mention a pretty solid reputation) to land a good job in due diligence and mortgage banking,…no one’s biting on the resumes I’ve sent this summer. I try to tune out the Facebook news feed items that talk about “50 is the new 65 when it comes to hiring.” I have friends older than me who are getting hired, but they have skills and connections I lack. I’m feeling a chill. Social Security is years away, and I (like millions of other Americans) don’t have retirement savings. They’ve been lived on.

I want to believe that miracles can happen at any time. Right now would be a good time.

Odds N Ends

The Blogger in chief here has spent the better part of the weekend in bed dealing with a cold and fever (either waiting for the Aleve to kick or having hallucinatory dreams only slightly less weird than the ones you get from opiates. It’s why I avoid painkillers). This being the case, this will be a brief, visual post.

You have a week. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I may run a campaign to go with it.

If you’re in the Austin area or want an excuse to go, wait until Feb 7 and I’ll meet you there.

Just plain ol’ good advice.

The WordPress App for IPad…

Reminder: e-books, sale, all platforms, Sept 30.

Need a link?

Buy Now!

We also now have a banner for the Burbank event on October 18. If you are within striking distance, please do come by:

(This has gotten so much easier since I installed the WordPress app. Somewhere, the ghost of Steve Jobs is snickering at me)

And since I’m testing out the “can I actually get this stupid furshlugger ipad to do what I want?”…

promo video

And since I can easily link to YouTube here, I’m going to close with one of. Y favorite things from this year. I don’t really stay up on pop music, but K Allen and company did a heroic spoof of “Talk Dirty to Me” which I’ve watched many times and it still makes me chuckle:

Talk Nerdy To Me

On Figuring Out What I Need to Succeed

First of all, the books are still for sale across all e-book platforms for 99 cents each until September 30. and there’s a handy-dandy list of links under the “Buy Now” tab up topside (nautical term from when my dad had a houseboat).

I have been remiss in my duties as a blogger and author of a blog by missing he last two positing dates (self- imposed. I intend to keep to Monday and Thursday). Laziness interfered, to be honest. I didn’t have much to say beyond, “Hey, buy my books!” and to my mind, that message gets old pretty fast. I deeply dislike high pressure salesmen (women) who, even if you politely decline help, insist on following you around in the store. Hey, buy my books

Just 99 Cents during September

The opening of Dunkin Donuts in Santa Monica is proof that not only is there a God, He/She hears and answers prayers. That first sip of iced coffee (cream and one Sweet N Low) was as deeply satisfying and wonderful as I remembered. (With respect to the Red Sox, I didn’t make any requests this year and it shows. My guys won the World Series last year. I’m not greedy. But, Father/Mother, can you do something with the Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins?) As I was kicking back with my iced coffee, Old Fashioned Doughnut, the Sunday New York Times crossword, and the aforementioned Pats pounding on the Vikings, I was content. I was checking Facebook and one of my friends had a thread going about children’s TV from way back when. The thread had led off with this picture:

Captain Kangaroo

And asked if the reader could identify him (Captain Kangaroo, of course). I was reminded of the weekend TV show out of Boston called “Boomtown.” It was Western-themed starring Rex Trailer.

.

The discussion made me remember my great ambition as a little kid. It wasn’t to be a lawyer, customer service representative, or mortgage underwriter (all of which I’ve been been doing for the past thirty years). I wanted to be an entertainer when I grew up (in my 5 year old mind’s eye, I saw myself tap dancing on stage. I love dance, took tap for 2 years. I sucked) When I was 8, I wrote a “finish the story” for Jack & Jill magazine that earned an honorable mention. Of course, I thought was the bee’s knees as a child author (and I remember a couple of stories I turned in in grade school that have, mercifully, been lost in time. They were pretentious. Yes, a fourth grader can be pretentious). I’ve started and stopped a bunch of stories and ideas. To me, it’s a lot of fun to think up the idea and I’ll scribble notes, snatches of dialogue, flashes of inspiration and then….eh. I have notes for stories ranging for a political satire to vampire satire to dystopian short stories and all the way to erotica (Yup. I can write smut. Embarrasses the hell out of certain family members, but I can make you jump your significant other). Why haven’t you seen these things? Life interferes; I work at jobs that leave me exhausted at the end of the day (focus, focus, focus) and in the case of customer service, emotionally drained. If I sit down to write, I hear a chorus of voices in my head (some people around now, some dead) telling me, “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be looking for a job and you’re going to need a place to live. You don’t have time for anything else. Your job is to find a job and a home. When you have a new job and you’re not on the street, THEN you can write.” (yeah, my default setting is beating myself up) even if this is what I want to do for a living? “Well, how many books have you sold? Enough to live on? No? Get back on Craigslist (which doesn’t really have what I’m qualified to do).” I have an author page on Facebook that doesn’t see a lot of traffic. It’s mostly “buy my books” and promotional pictures for you to buy my books and links back to this website. On my personal page, I’ve been posting general good wishes of the the things I’d like to see come into my life. They don’t always get a bunch of “likes,” but I get feedback that people appreciate them. However… I run a third page called “Medieval Merriment.” (The name alone has me spelling medieval correctly on a consistent basis. An achievement). I post silly, medieval-themed stuff like this:

https://www.facebook.com/Medievalmerr... That one, I started up about 3 weeks ago, mid-August, and it has taken off. Over 300 followers already and according to the statistics, the pictures are getting shared and circulated at a staggering (to me) rate. One I posted yesterday has already been viewed over 1,500 times. So what’s the difference? Medieval Merriment is just entertainment. “Here’s a funny thing. Look and laugh.” It is, in a way, the thing I wanted to do as a kid: entertain people. I’ve never really been comfortable in a sales role unless I can engage someone one on one and make sure that what I’m selling is truly what he/she wants. I tried posting a couple of cartoons about writing, but that didn’t result in increased traffic. I want that traffic. I’ve tried engaging people by asking questions: crickets. I helped an author friend with a book launch and reviewing her book. Her books are going gangbusters (partly because she’s in the local romance author clique. Listen up and remember this: you only graduate from high school. The social dynamic remains throughout life). She has not reciprocated with boosting. So, it’s up to me. I’ve begun tweeting some of my favorite inspirational quotes, such as the following: (Thank God for memes, because that 140 character limit is a bear at times) I’m also trying to “cross pollinate” on the Medieval Merriment page to see if I can interest some of those folks in my writing. As yes, I have an idea for a medieval story. Very vague (like mysteries? Read the Brother Cadfael books), but the seed is there. If you’re reading this page and you’re on Facebook, let me give you the link to go like my author page: https://www.facebook.com/spthatcherau... Y’all have a good day. I’m going to follow Thoreau’s advice and advance co differently in the direction of my dreams.   Oh yeah: please share the hell out of this page.

I’d Like to Thank…

 

As much as I would use my corner of the Internet to bitch about what a shitty year 2014 has been for me, I won’t. I ascribe to the “you create your reality through your thoughts” theory and I’d like for things to get a lot better ASAP (vite, Mach schnell, presto, stat, PDQ, you get the idea). With that thought in mind, I am going to get highly personal here and “thank in advance” for things I’d like to see manifest in my life:

book sales in the hundreds and thousands of units. I’ll post links to all the e-reader platforms in a separate post, but they’re on sale throughout the whole month. 99 cents. I can’t make the price any lower without making it free. Maybe for Breast Cancer Awareness month in October, but right now, I’ve got the e-books as low as they’ll go.maybe it’s my inner 6 year old, but I believe I have created a great love story that will stand up over time.

Just 99 Cents during September

A win from Publishers Clearing House. I’ve been doing the little contest entries all year. I’m told that the planets are aligned for me to have fabulous luck. Why not? I could use $25,000 right now (What the hell; let’s say $250,000). And I’ve done the little entries and played the games to win it. Winning is fun.

A new home of my own. I have been house-sitting since May in a place that I would choose for myself. I am grateful for knowing it exists and (in advance) for the means to have my own version.

New computer. Yes, I am working with this iPad, but it has a lot of limitations for the kinds of things I do on a computer (none of it downloading porn). A new PC to replace Mario also opens up work from home possibilities. I like a commute that goes from bed to coffee maker to desk.

Big Fat Waddling Juicy El Niño for the next 3-4 years. I like sunny weather as much as the next person, but dammit, this is a drought and that’s not good. Sure, a day in the 70s in January is nice, but it ain’t normal.we not only need the rain, we we need the cooler temperatures. Who wants to make a big pot of chili when it’s in the 80s? I have sweaters and socks that I love to wear, especially on a rainy, cool Sunday watching a football game and eating homemade turkey chili. The Byrds were right when they sang that there is a time to every season. “A time for flip flops and a time for fluffy socks.” Besides, cool, gray weather during the winter means I get my favorite beach mostly to myself, my coffee, and the migrating whales. I don’t resent other people out there, but the lack of human-made noise is soothing to the soul.

(No more pictures. iPad has officially taken its marbles and gone home when it comes to inserting graphics)

I am always thankful for my friends. (Stealing a line here, but that’s what comedians do) “There’s the logical family and the biological family.” A good chunk of my logical family was playing Cards Against Humanity on Saturday night. I would move bodies for these people. They have done nearly as much for me.

Good timely luck. In my life, it has manifested as “just in time” needs being met when necessary, or happy accidents that benefitted me. Frankly, I’d be happy with a large lotto win, say ending up with a $250 million (US) net worth (I read “Scruples” when I was in my teens and decided that that’s the amount of money I wanted. And authors of erotica: get a copy and read the sex scenes. That’s how it’s done.

That’s just the most immediate list of gratitude into manifesting. We shall see how things unfold.

99 Cent Sale

Just this.

99 cents until September 30, 2014.

All e-book platforms.

Can We Talk?

Yes, the title quotes Joan Rivers.

She’s said a lot of stuff with which I don’t agree, but Ms. Rivers has been one of my stand up comedy idols since I watched her on Merv Griffin ,with my mom (and even though we exchanged on phone call in 4 years before she passed, she was still MY MOM. I miss her, but the emotional distance was necessary. I digress). Joan told one of my all-time favorite jokes on the old Flip Wilson Show: “I bought a waterbed to , you know, spice up my sex life. Edgar stocked it with trout.”

Now THAT’S great writing. Losing Joan so soon after losing Robin would be a hard thing to take. She’s been eternal for years.

On the subject of writing and writers who talk about writing and writers…

 

 

This is Sue Grafton of the alphabetical mystery novels (“A I’d For…”) featuring Kinsey Milhone, a medical examiner. Her work is carefully researched, well written, and has made her a very wealthy woman.

Last month, the Facebook independent (generally romance) author pages were on fire with denunciations of Grafton for calling  self-publishing authors “too lazy to do the hard work,” meaning perfecting one’s craft, dealing with rejection, and going back to Square 1. It should be noted that Ms. Grafton’s first 3 novels were rejected for publication.  She went on to describe self-published works as “often amateurish.”

The dumbass thing about this “controversy,” as with other notable blowups on Facebook, her remarks were over two years old when the author groups got roiled in Zuckerworld.

Lazy? Allow me to share a one star review of her most recent entry in the Kinsey Milhone universe, “W Is For Wasted”:

“Golly, I wish I wish I had the hours I spent slogging through this book back. I kept hoping it would get better…and it didn’t. Here is a book desperately searching for an editor. The story, trite and predictable, slogged along for four hundred pages. Then, it was like Ms Grafton realized she was nearing her page limit and hurriedly wound up the story by introducing new characters and tacking on an epilogue. So sad a wind-down for a once great series.”

And there’s Jodi Picoult weighing in, also two years ago, also not a fan of self-publishing.

 

 

She said NOT to self-publish because “it’s already too hard to separate the wheat from the chaff.” Ms. Picoult is know for her literary and deeply emotional novels such as “My Sister’s Keeper.”

Here is a one star review for “The Pact”:

“Not only is this book painfully boring but its so far fetched. Without spoiling it, you grow to hate the main character Emily vs feeling sorry for her. Seriously do not waste your time.”

Would this be considered wheat or chaff, Ms. Picoult?

I don’t completely disagree with them, though…

As mentioned, I belong to a number of author groups on Facebook, mostly dealing with romance (because that’s what I’ve written so far). The great blessing of online publishing technology is also its curse: anyone can now publish.

I see Facebook posts that demonstrate the author doesn’t exercise a fifth grade level aptitude for spelling, grammar, sentence construction. The big issue (especially for me) is the total failure to use the correct homonyms in a sentence. I have seen authors turn into drama queens over bad reviews that cite their poor language skills. These same authors cite their degrees in writing as proof the critics are wrong. Of course, the rest of their sorority rush in to comfort and defend. I sit back and watch a train wreck of inexcusable spelling, usage, punctuation…everything the one star review cited.

I’ve mentioned the Facebook bad English and it gets dismissed with “Oh, well, that’s just Facebook.” I see.

So, as your “friend” on Facebook, I am not entitled to your best efforts at writing? That’s insulting.

Just because someone has read dozens,if not hundreds, of novels, doesn’t mean the reader has absorbed the skill of the writer. The success stories of Stephanie Meyers and E.L.James (first time novelists strike gold) combined with the ease of e-book publishing has led to legions writing and publishing their own offerings with varying degrees of quality and success. There is wheat in self-published works, but there is also a shitload of chaff. One author, writing “erotic” fiction (you’ll understand the quotation makes in a moment) put up a promotional teaser for her upcoming book. A lot of us do it (We independent authors have to do our own marketing and publicity, unlike, say Sue Grafton, who works with a publishing house that has a department that handles all that for her). However, this teaser had language describing a sexual encounter that involved “contracting bladder muscles.” This is as off-putting as the time I read a short story in Playgirl (I sold them a couple of stories) that had the narrator talking about her “global breasts.” Really? Those knockers travel the world without you? That must hurt. “Globelike” or “globular” were the appropriate words, but I wouldn’t choose either for a sexy description of a round, firm, yielding breast, glistening from the bath water, making him long to trace his fingers from the hollow of her neck down to the pink, inviting nipple, and lower….

Actually, Ms. Grafton’s “lazy” comment was directed at newbie authors who turned out a book and felt entitled to overnight success simply because they had published fan fiction of the latest sensation. I have seen the wailing Facebook posts wanting to know why, why, why, hasn’t their book cracked the Amazon Top 100 of their category. They also bitch about bad reviews (Sack up. It’s like bad calls in baseball; part of the game. And the critic may have a valid point).

Going the traditional publishing house route has become as difficult as being elected Pope. Houses have merged or been bought up by media corporations and the emphasis has shifted from discovering new voices to guarding the bottom line. If you go through the “Writer’s Market,” you’ll see “no unsolicited manuscripts” or “agent only” submissions for the big players and even the smaller regional houses. Tom Clancy, the insurance agent who sold a manuscript for “The Hunt For Red October” to the Naval Academy Press, wouldn’t be able to get a foot in the door of Putnam, who published Tom Clancy, author of blockbuster military thrillers, the first of which was “The Hunt For Red October.”

Were it not for the self-publishing ease of Createspace, I would not have books to offer. I like to think mine fall I the “wheat” category as opposed to “chaff,” but we all do (even those who don’t understand the phrase). I’m grateful to have it available. I have control over the process, I take in a far greater percentage of the sales, I’m in charge. Would I trade it for a traditional arrangement with someone else taking care of printing, formatting, and publicity? Offer me an advance and we’ll see what happens.

Bottom line, as much as I think Grafton and Picoult should have perhaps been more delicate in their disparagement of bad writers and their expectations, they’re not completely wrong.

Of course, if they read MY works, they’d doubtless hail my pioneering efforts to create the “real love” genre.

 

 

August 28, 2014

This

Plus this

(Those are dolphins. They were surfing. Honest)

is part of the reason I don’t want to live anywhere else. The top picture is a blue whale. The biggest EVER animal on Earth (Suck it, T Rex) and it summers off the Southern California coast.  As for the dolphins, I had a Flipper lunchbox when I was 6 (because I destroyed my soft-sided Mary Poppins one) and the first time I saw one in person (Lemon Bay on the Florida Gulf Coast in 1978), I was hooked.

This is what I do to think. I get a cup of coffee, get to the beach, listen and breathe (and drink the coffee).

I’ve been solving some story problems this way.  I don’t think about them while on the beach. I just sit and stay in the moment. When I get back to the notebook, I find the problem is solved.

Ive been using this method on crossword puzzles for years. Put it down, walk away and do something else. Return and finish the puzzle in short order, even Sunday New York Times.

I don’t know if going to the beach had anything to do with it, but a couple of BIG problems that have been stressing me (and aging me. I don’t like that woman in the mirror. No amount of makeup and teasing her hair makes her look better) have been pushed back. Not permanently resolved, but I have more time to get them solved. That always helps.

I suggest, to the small handful of people who actually read this, that you find yourself such a place. Somewhere to sit and be still, to be in the moment and not think about what lies beyond your little circle of peace.

Tell me about your happy place.

Oh, and I agree with Douglas Adams:

“For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much—the wheel, New York, wars and so on—whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man—for precisely the same reasons.”

***

What’s a Girl Got To Do?

This past weekend, “These Foolish Things” and “At a Last” chalked up more positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads (they should be on the home page for this site. ALONG WITH ALL THE OTHER ONES).

It warms my heart. I wanted to create fun, realistic characters that, if they were real, the readers would want them as friends. That’s the feedback I’m getting. I succeeded.

However,…

What’s going to take to get more people reading and buy these good books? There are 5 days until the Smashwords Discounts expire (Wow! Where has August gone?):

(c’mon, people, use the damns codes)

i ve ve sent copies to Ellen DeGeneres, Rosie O’Donnell, Oprah (do I have to say her last name?) and to Mrs. Obama and Dr. Biden:

See?

(The iPad and I just had a tussle over inserting that. We compromised)

Okay, the “fashion” in romance novels right now is still some supernatural (“Twilight” inspired), BDSM ( “50 Shades” inspired, which is actually “Twilight” derived), and essentially fan fiction inspired by rock bands, NASCAR, and TV shows.

I went a different way. I wrote about realistic people with recognizable issues finding a way to work through them to make a relationship work. No fangs, no kidnappings, no damsels in distress (although it can be argued that Ty Hadley, my lead guy, needs rescuing from his demons).

I write about people who had tough childhoods, but find a “soul family” in the DiNardos. Again, no fangs, but there’s a lot of Italian cooking (vampirism doesn’t go with garlic), head smacking, affection, and warmth.I didn’t “draw the curtain” after Liz and Ty got together (“These Foolish Things” and “At Last” were originally one book. I divided because …well, I’m an idiot). I wanted people to see (as they do in real life, if they think about it) that a realistic Happily Ever After is possible. It’s a lot of work, too. Life isn’t on cruise control.

So, what’s it going to take to get more people to read these books? I’ve offered them for free through Kindle and Smashwords. I’ve given away signed copies. I’ve swapped with other authors at signings….

I’ve been told to engage my audience.  I’ve posted questions on Goodreads and on my Amazon author page:

Susan Thatcher Amazon Author Central

Or should I just write smut under a pen name?