Rival Gates's Blog, page 10
September 6, 2017
She's Expensive
There she sits. She’s beautiful. You have to have her. It’s not a matter of want. You must have her. But she won’t come cheap. You’re going to have to spend a lot of money to get her. You take the plunge and spend the money. You have her and for a short period, you are happy. Then the trouble starts. She starts to have fits and become temperamental. That equates to more money coming out of your wallet. She becomes violently ill and can’t even move. You can’t afford the cure so you charge it because she must be there for you at any cost. As time goes by she just costs you more and more just to keep her around. As you stare at a stack of bills you begin to wonder if you should stay with her or if you should move on to a younger one without all the headaches yet. I am of course talking about a car. In high school, my Consumer’s Education teacher once said that a car is the worst investment you will ever make. Boy was he right. After all the repairs, I have paid for over the years I can testify to that. The catch 22 is you have to have a car. You have to get from point A to B. Unless you have excellent public transportation or live close enough to walk, you need a car. After throwing your money away long enough, the question becomes, “Do I keep throwing good money after bad or do I buy a new car?” Both are expensive and only you can answer the question. With a new car that means a major expense just for the vehicle. Then there are taxes, titles, plates, and dealer fees. With the older car, you hopefully have it paid off. The plates are cheaper. On top of that, you’ve already put so much money into her. On the other hand, it’s still an old car which is prone to break down and cost you down the road.
The only thing for sure with cars is that you have to have one.
The only thing for sure with cars is that you have to have one.
September 5, 2017
Excerpt, "Crucible"
Linvin could not stand the sight. “Leave him alone, Gutter-Rat,” Linvin cried angrily.
Hugon removed his foot from Anvar and turned his attention to Linvin. With two fists full of Linvin’s shirt, Hugon lifted him into the air and drew his face close. The great elf was weak and sick but still stubborn. He stared straight back at the monstrous creature.
“So you’re the little half-breed that has everyone so upset. You look pretty harmless to me. Kind of like a bug. I guess maybe them Humans is afraid of bugs?” The other goblins started laughing.
Linvin replied. “You must be the pathetic Goblin Pet your Human Masters chose to guard the mean, nasty little Elves. What a sad commentary on you. So scared of us are you that you need to keep us shackled. I do not blame you though. Slaughtering all those goblins in the Territory was quite easy and actually a good deal of fun for us. I would be scared of us too.”
Hugon threw Linvin against the wall and turned to the goblins who traveled with the prison wagon. “They killed goblins?”
“At least an entire patrol,” the shivering voice of one of them said.
Hugon was furious and quickly showed his displeasure by uncoiling his whip. Without a thought he began to lash Linvin with vigor. “You want to play games with me, Boy?” Hugon shouted as the thick leather tore through Linvin’s clothes. The victim curled into a ball to protect his face. Unrestrained, the leather sliced through his skin with ease and did not stop until it struck bone.
“How do you like that?” Hugon screamed as the other goblins cheered his torture of Linvin. “I think I’ll give you one lash for every goblin you’ve killed. If there’s anything left of you after that, I’ll show you the lower levels where we can really have some fun.”
Linvin watched his tormentor closely. When the whip headed his way again Linvin held up his shackles and let it wrap itself around the chain. Then he grabbed the weapon and pulled it from the goblin’s hand. “I am Linvin Grithinshield,” he said from his knees. “No one puts leather to me and lives.”
The goblins were speechless. They withdrew to the corners as Hugon howled with fury. “So you want to die quickly,” Hugon barked. “I can oblige you with that. This is my jail. No one defies me here.”
Linvin struggled to his feet as blood poured from his wounds and pooled on the floor. “If you are so confident of your superiority then remove my restraints and I will give you a real fight.”
“Why would I do that?” yelled Hugon as he drew his club high. “It is much more enjoyable to fight you as you are. Now, come and get some, Boy.”
He struck down with the club. Linvin blocked the blow again with the chain between his wrists. This time, however, he twisted and wrapped the chain around the weapon, dislodging it from Hugon’s hand. In normal circumstances Linvin would have followed up immediately with a blow of his own. With his injured condition, however, he could do little more than fall to the ground.
One of the goblins guarding the elves on the journey stepped over to Hugon. “Sergeant, I mean no disrespect but we were given strict orders not to mistreat the prisoners.”
Hugon removed his foot from Anvar and turned his attention to Linvin. With two fists full of Linvin’s shirt, Hugon lifted him into the air and drew his face close. The great elf was weak and sick but still stubborn. He stared straight back at the monstrous creature.
“So you’re the little half-breed that has everyone so upset. You look pretty harmless to me. Kind of like a bug. I guess maybe them Humans is afraid of bugs?” The other goblins started laughing.
Linvin replied. “You must be the pathetic Goblin Pet your Human Masters chose to guard the mean, nasty little Elves. What a sad commentary on you. So scared of us are you that you need to keep us shackled. I do not blame you though. Slaughtering all those goblins in the Territory was quite easy and actually a good deal of fun for us. I would be scared of us too.”
Hugon threw Linvin against the wall and turned to the goblins who traveled with the prison wagon. “They killed goblins?”
“At least an entire patrol,” the shivering voice of one of them said.
Hugon was furious and quickly showed his displeasure by uncoiling his whip. Without a thought he began to lash Linvin with vigor. “You want to play games with me, Boy?” Hugon shouted as the thick leather tore through Linvin’s clothes. The victim curled into a ball to protect his face. Unrestrained, the leather sliced through his skin with ease and did not stop until it struck bone.
“How do you like that?” Hugon screamed as the other goblins cheered his torture of Linvin. “I think I’ll give you one lash for every goblin you’ve killed. If there’s anything left of you after that, I’ll show you the lower levels where we can really have some fun.”
Linvin watched his tormentor closely. When the whip headed his way again Linvin held up his shackles and let it wrap itself around the chain. Then he grabbed the weapon and pulled it from the goblin’s hand. “I am Linvin Grithinshield,” he said from his knees. “No one puts leather to me and lives.”
The goblins were speechless. They withdrew to the corners as Hugon howled with fury. “So you want to die quickly,” Hugon barked. “I can oblige you with that. This is my jail. No one defies me here.”
Linvin struggled to his feet as blood poured from his wounds and pooled on the floor. “If you are so confident of your superiority then remove my restraints and I will give you a real fight.”
“Why would I do that?” yelled Hugon as he drew his club high. “It is much more enjoyable to fight you as you are. Now, come and get some, Boy.”
He struck down with the club. Linvin blocked the blow again with the chain between his wrists. This time, however, he twisted and wrapped the chain around the weapon, dislodging it from Hugon’s hand. In normal circumstances Linvin would have followed up immediately with a blow of his own. With his injured condition, however, he could do little more than fall to the ground.
One of the goblins guarding the elves on the journey stepped over to Hugon. “Sergeant, I mean no disrespect but we were given strict orders not to mistreat the prisoners.”
August 30, 2017
Cover Reveal
The new cover for Mandrean Revenge has arrived. It’s a great grasp of the character. Check it out at http://www.rivalgates.com/ If you like it, press the like button. Meanwhile, the editor is still doing first edits. Stay turned.
August 29, 2017
Excerpt, "Quest"
“General!” cried Victolin. “There is a disturbance in the fog.”
Linvin peered through the glass. The fog was indeed being stirred. With the ever-increasing light, he saw an ocean of pikes pointed at the sky. They moved slowly but deliberately toward Linvin’s line.
“How many would you estimate, Victolin?”
The cavalry leader too, had been watching through his lens. Putting it down, Victolin answered, “Six, maybe seven thousand at most.”
“Not the great host we would expect. Almost what we would be hoping for after two major battles in two days.”
“Sir, we should ride round behind them now and attack from the rear.
“Yes,” Linvin said calmly. “That sounds like the correct move right now, but they are marching too slowly. They must know they outnumber us by a wide margin. Goblins rarely maintain their composure when battle looms. That is especially true when they expect to win. Yet the army we see marches at a snail’s pace. I do not trust it.”
“They may be unsure of their footing in the fog,” Victolin suggested.
“Perhaps,” answered Linvin, “but we will wait all the same.”
The pikes advanced on Linvin’s line. When they were five hundred paces away, their heads came into view. At two hundred paces, their enemy was totally uncloaked. They wore hides fashioned into armor. Their pikes were nearly three times the height of a man. Various secondary weapons were worn at their sides.
Fardar stared at Linvin’s infantry with great intensity and increasing distress. “Why do your archers not fire? They are well within firing range.”
“Patience, Lord Fardar,” Linvin replied calmly. “Their war chief is fishing right now, but I am not biting.”
Soon the goblins were fifty paces away from the line. They lowered their pikes to point at Sculla’s infantry and marched on in a loose phalanx formation.
Sculla himself was positioned in the middle of the front rank. His men stood at attention, awaiting their leader’s command. “Javelins!” Sculla yelled. The men each grasped one of their javelins and on command, hurled the weapon at their enemy.
The salvo was accurate and lethal. Nearly the entire first line of goblins fell in an instant. The next several rows suffered heavy losses as well. Even so, the army pressed on toward the Valian line. At twenty paces, another round of javelins proved even more effective than the first. Goblins fell, screaming in pain. Without shields, they were easy targets. Even with their horrible losses, the goblins reached the line and attacked.
With the goblins’ front lines decimated, the initial contact was only in a few places along the wall of shields, leaving large gaps in the marsh dwellers’ ranks. Feverishly, the goblins struck out again and again with their pikes, but their blows were blunted by the disciplined formation.
Linvin peered through the glass. The fog was indeed being stirred. With the ever-increasing light, he saw an ocean of pikes pointed at the sky. They moved slowly but deliberately toward Linvin’s line.
“How many would you estimate, Victolin?”
The cavalry leader too, had been watching through his lens. Putting it down, Victolin answered, “Six, maybe seven thousand at most.”
“Not the great host we would expect. Almost what we would be hoping for after two major battles in two days.”
“Sir, we should ride round behind them now and attack from the rear.
“Yes,” Linvin said calmly. “That sounds like the correct move right now, but they are marching too slowly. They must know they outnumber us by a wide margin. Goblins rarely maintain their composure when battle looms. That is especially true when they expect to win. Yet the army we see marches at a snail’s pace. I do not trust it.”
“They may be unsure of their footing in the fog,” Victolin suggested.
“Perhaps,” answered Linvin, “but we will wait all the same.”
The pikes advanced on Linvin’s line. When they were five hundred paces away, their heads came into view. At two hundred paces, their enemy was totally uncloaked. They wore hides fashioned into armor. Their pikes were nearly three times the height of a man. Various secondary weapons were worn at their sides.
Fardar stared at Linvin’s infantry with great intensity and increasing distress. “Why do your archers not fire? They are well within firing range.”
“Patience, Lord Fardar,” Linvin replied calmly. “Their war chief is fishing right now, but I am not biting.”
Soon the goblins were fifty paces away from the line. They lowered their pikes to point at Sculla’s infantry and marched on in a loose phalanx formation.
Sculla himself was positioned in the middle of the front rank. His men stood at attention, awaiting their leader’s command. “Javelins!” Sculla yelled. The men each grasped one of their javelins and on command, hurled the weapon at their enemy.
The salvo was accurate and lethal. Nearly the entire first line of goblins fell in an instant. The next several rows suffered heavy losses as well. Even so, the army pressed on toward the Valian line. At twenty paces, another round of javelins proved even more effective than the first. Goblins fell, screaming in pain. Without shields, they were easy targets. Even with their horrible losses, the goblins reached the line and attacked.
With the goblins’ front lines decimated, the initial contact was only in a few places along the wall of shields, leaving large gaps in the marsh dwellers’ ranks. Feverishly, the goblins struck out again and again with their pikes, but their blows were blunted by the disciplined formation.
August 23, 2017
Exciting News
Well, it’s been a long time coming. I have waited for this and waited for this for what seems like forever. Now it has finally happened. An editor has been assigned to my book and is working on it now. It’s the hardest part of writing for me. Here you have your baby that you’ve created and you give to another person whose job is to find fault with it. Much of the fault is justified. But sometimes editors can want to rewrite your book. It just all depends who you get. I’m hoping for the best with this one. It’s a solid book. I hope it doesn’t need a lot of corrections. But at least the ball is moving now.
August 22, 2017
Eclipse Tainted
Well, yesterday you are probably aware we had a solar eclipse. I live in Nebraska and could not help but be affected by it. Just examining the event itself, it was one of those celestial moments that comes once in a lifetime. To actually see the sun blotted out by the moon was a phenomenon you really must see to believe. Having seen it live I can say it was magnificent and makes you realize just how small we really are in the universe. But we are a greedy and petty race that takes advantage of our fellow man at every opportunity. And this event was one big opportunity. Special glasses to watch the eclipse were probably .10 to make and retailed originally for a $1. Closer to the event, they were being sold for $10 a pair by the side of the road. Hotel rooms near the prime viewing area were booking for $1000 a night. Farmers had cleared fields and were renting out the space to campers. T-shirt companies had set up shop and were selling shirts right off the press. Even the Chamber of Commerce put out their own t-shirts and was selling them fast. As I saw all of this I could not help but feel it cheapened the whole experience. One of man’s greatest events to witness was sullied by man’s greed. It was sad. Must we commercialize everything? From Santa Clause to fireworks, every major holiday has been capitalized on already. Just once why couldn’t we just enjoy the event.
August 16, 2017
Excerpt, "Crucible"
As the room parted, Necromancer came into view. He moved but his robe showed no motion from his legs. As he grew near his eyes became a deeper red and nearly appeared ablaze as he approached the elves. He stopped directly before the guards in the front of the column.
“Captain,” he ordered. “You and your men may return to your duties.”
The captain looked puzzled. “I certainly would never disobey you, My Lord, but we were told these are the most dangerous prisoners we have ever held. With Lord Mandrean about to begin Court, I would think it would be wise to stay with them. After all, Lord Mandrean’s protection is the most important factor.”
“Your concern is noted,” Necromancer answered as anger swelled in his voice. “There are over a dozen Imperial Guards already stationed in this room. That is more than sufficient. Your men have other responsibilities they are neglecting. I suggest they return to them. As for our Dear Lord Mandrean, I am here. There is no greater protection to be had. You are dismissed. Pray I do not recall you’re questioning of my orders in the future. Such a recollection may displease me and be detrimental for you.”
The captain gave the fist salute and said firmly, “By your leave, My Lord.” He turned on his heal and led the guards from the chamber.
Necromancer smiled a fiendish grin as he approached Linvin. “I see you have been restored to health. That is good. I may not have use for you but I will be prepared all the same, Grithinshield.”
He walked over to the twins and looked at them with contempt. Then he glared at Linvin. “I can see why you loathe them. They are miserable excuses for elves. To be fair, elves never have impressed me as a group. These two are particularly under whelming. Had I been you, I would have eliminated them long ago.”
“They are my kin,” Linvin stated indignantly.
“A fact I am sure you have regretted on more than one occasion,” remarked Necromancer. “They may be of your blood but you would have done well to shed it long ago. Your trip would have been far easier. Then again, I may be giving you too much credit. Perhaps you enjoy having inferiors around. I personally despise it, but have no choice in the matter. I have no equal with whom to associate.” He moved on to Anvar. “You certainly draw a pathetic comparison to me. What is the world coming to when everyone is so scared of a circus freak like you? An Orange Magician, eh? You are better served as a sideshow trickster. At least that would earn the slightest respect. Instead you pass yourself off as a force to be handled with extreme caution. You could not harm me on your best day.
“There are many here who may fear your tricks. For that reason I will be clear. I will be removing all your restraints soon. After all, we do not want the ‘Emperor’s Prisoners’ to be uncomfortable, do we? Then you will all sit where I tell you and do nothing until called upon. If any of you make the slightest effort to escape, you will only leave this chamber when your ashes are swept aside.” He paced before the prisoners with his hands behind his back. “That means, no swordplay, fisticuffs or that sad thing Anvar Greenlith calls magic. Remember, you are nothing more than a means to an end for me. Even at that, you are a backup plan. Your incineration would at worst be an inconvenience to me. So do not bother convincing yourselves that you are indispensable.”
Necromancer lifted his eyebrows and the shackles on the party disappeared as though they were never there. Then he pointed to a bench. “Sit and do not move. You will know when I want you.” As the elves sat where they were told, Necromancer walked with great anticipation toward the throne. He turned and stood before the seat to the right of the seat of power and watched the people take their places.
Rander sat to one side of Linvin and Anvar on the other with Bander further down the bench. “What do you make of that?” Rander whispered.
Linvin watched the room carefully and spoke without turning his head. “I take him at his word. He will kill us for the slightest distraction. That being said, I think he does need us for something. There is no other reason for us to be here.”
“Captain,” he ordered. “You and your men may return to your duties.”
The captain looked puzzled. “I certainly would never disobey you, My Lord, but we were told these are the most dangerous prisoners we have ever held. With Lord Mandrean about to begin Court, I would think it would be wise to stay with them. After all, Lord Mandrean’s protection is the most important factor.”
“Your concern is noted,” Necromancer answered as anger swelled in his voice. “There are over a dozen Imperial Guards already stationed in this room. That is more than sufficient. Your men have other responsibilities they are neglecting. I suggest they return to them. As for our Dear Lord Mandrean, I am here. There is no greater protection to be had. You are dismissed. Pray I do not recall you’re questioning of my orders in the future. Such a recollection may displease me and be detrimental for you.”
The captain gave the fist salute and said firmly, “By your leave, My Lord.” He turned on his heal and led the guards from the chamber.
Necromancer smiled a fiendish grin as he approached Linvin. “I see you have been restored to health. That is good. I may not have use for you but I will be prepared all the same, Grithinshield.”
He walked over to the twins and looked at them with contempt. Then he glared at Linvin. “I can see why you loathe them. They are miserable excuses for elves. To be fair, elves never have impressed me as a group. These two are particularly under whelming. Had I been you, I would have eliminated them long ago.”
“They are my kin,” Linvin stated indignantly.
“A fact I am sure you have regretted on more than one occasion,” remarked Necromancer. “They may be of your blood but you would have done well to shed it long ago. Your trip would have been far easier. Then again, I may be giving you too much credit. Perhaps you enjoy having inferiors around. I personally despise it, but have no choice in the matter. I have no equal with whom to associate.” He moved on to Anvar. “You certainly draw a pathetic comparison to me. What is the world coming to when everyone is so scared of a circus freak like you? An Orange Magician, eh? You are better served as a sideshow trickster. At least that would earn the slightest respect. Instead you pass yourself off as a force to be handled with extreme caution. You could not harm me on your best day.
“There are many here who may fear your tricks. For that reason I will be clear. I will be removing all your restraints soon. After all, we do not want the ‘Emperor’s Prisoners’ to be uncomfortable, do we? Then you will all sit where I tell you and do nothing until called upon. If any of you make the slightest effort to escape, you will only leave this chamber when your ashes are swept aside.” He paced before the prisoners with his hands behind his back. “That means, no swordplay, fisticuffs or that sad thing Anvar Greenlith calls magic. Remember, you are nothing more than a means to an end for me. Even at that, you are a backup plan. Your incineration would at worst be an inconvenience to me. So do not bother convincing yourselves that you are indispensable.”
Necromancer lifted his eyebrows and the shackles on the party disappeared as though they were never there. Then he pointed to a bench. “Sit and do not move. You will know when I want you.” As the elves sat where they were told, Necromancer walked with great anticipation toward the throne. He turned and stood before the seat to the right of the seat of power and watched the people take their places.
Rander sat to one side of Linvin and Anvar on the other with Bander further down the bench. “What do you make of that?” Rander whispered.
Linvin watched the room carefully and spoke without turning his head. “I take him at his word. He will kill us for the slightest distraction. That being said, I think he does need us for something. There is no other reason for us to be here.”
August 15, 2017
Excerpt, "Quest"
He stood by the window with a snifter of brandy. Swirling the container of precious liquor in his hand, he called out, “Jelena, could I at least have some ale instead of this lamp oil you’ve served me?”
“Anvar,” bellowed the woman, “This is an important occasion and I will not have it sullied by serving that swill you and Dirk took such delight in drinking. You are holding the finest brandy in the land. Savor it and let me see to my tasks.”
Anvar inhaled the bouquet and then sipped in a conservative fashion. His face wrinkled slightly. “I honestly do not see why you are making such a fuss, Jelena. After all, it’s just Linvin coming home.”
“Do you see him?” shouted Jelena as she ran to the window.
“No,” laughed Anvar. “I was merely saying that this gala you have prepared seems rather…extravagant for Linvin’s tastes. Would you not agree, sister?”
Jelena stormed over to Anvar. “Having been through this past year with me, I would think you of all people would see a need for celebration. This house has been like a mausoleum since Dirk left. I have one good thing left in this world and that is my son. Is it so wrong to shout to the world that he is home?”
“It could be,” Anvar said before taking a larger drink from his glass. “You know how I feel about this. It is an unwise and unneeded risk. One that may very well get us all killed.”
“The gala will have tight security, I assure you.”
Anvar came face-to-face with her and said with frustration, “You know that I do not speak of the gala. Has time blinded you so that you do not see the impending danger? The risks have not gone away, Jelena. Bringing us together again and announcing it to the world will only compound those risks.”
“Dirk has been gone over a year and there is not the slightest hint of danger. You are paranoid, dear brother. Even if there was a danger, it died with Dirk.”
Anvar struck his forehead in disbelief. “Dirk is not what they wanted! They have just been biding their time. How can you be so ignorant of the impending doom?”
“Because all I can see is my son! He was practically stolen from me as a boy and sent halfway around the world to be raised by strangers. My boy has lived more years away from me than with me and I want him back! I want him home!”
“Even if it costs us all our lives?” Anvar asked as he held his weeping sister.
“I see him!” called a nearby servant.
“Anvar,” bellowed the woman, “This is an important occasion and I will not have it sullied by serving that swill you and Dirk took such delight in drinking. You are holding the finest brandy in the land. Savor it and let me see to my tasks.”
Anvar inhaled the bouquet and then sipped in a conservative fashion. His face wrinkled slightly. “I honestly do not see why you are making such a fuss, Jelena. After all, it’s just Linvin coming home.”
“Do you see him?” shouted Jelena as she ran to the window.
“No,” laughed Anvar. “I was merely saying that this gala you have prepared seems rather…extravagant for Linvin’s tastes. Would you not agree, sister?”
Jelena stormed over to Anvar. “Having been through this past year with me, I would think you of all people would see a need for celebration. This house has been like a mausoleum since Dirk left. I have one good thing left in this world and that is my son. Is it so wrong to shout to the world that he is home?”
“It could be,” Anvar said before taking a larger drink from his glass. “You know how I feel about this. It is an unwise and unneeded risk. One that may very well get us all killed.”
“The gala will have tight security, I assure you.”
Anvar came face-to-face with her and said with frustration, “You know that I do not speak of the gala. Has time blinded you so that you do not see the impending danger? The risks have not gone away, Jelena. Bringing us together again and announcing it to the world will only compound those risks.”
“Dirk has been gone over a year and there is not the slightest hint of danger. You are paranoid, dear brother. Even if there was a danger, it died with Dirk.”
Anvar struck his forehead in disbelief. “Dirk is not what they wanted! They have just been biding their time. How can you be so ignorant of the impending doom?”
“Because all I can see is my son! He was practically stolen from me as a boy and sent halfway around the world to be raised by strangers. My boy has lived more years away from me than with me and I want him back! I want him home!”
“Even if it costs us all our lives?” Anvar asked as he held his weeping sister.
“I see him!” called a nearby servant.
August 9, 2017
Writing a Book
People always want to know how I come up with a book. The funny part is, I never start out with that as a goal. I start with little nuggets and build around them as far as I can. Sometimes that turns into something substantial and other times it turns into nothing. For example, “Quest for the Red Sapphire” all began with the idea of a sword that held the soul of another living animal with it. From that nugget I had to decide what kind of animal was held within and why. Then I had to create a master for the sword. That took some time. Then I decided to kill off that character and have the sword fall to his son; but not in a conventional sense. So the son, Linvin, had to be created. The longer I worked, the more his story grew. Then I needed someone to restrain his youthful exuberance. It had to be someone to be a tutor and guide to Linvin. Anvar was created and connected to Linvin’s father, Dirk. Then I needed something for them to seek. I discarded rings, amulets, necklaces and the like because they had all been used so much before. I always liked sapphires. The blue ones were spectacular. I envisioned an opposite to it. It only made sense to pick red. Since I was 13 at the time I went to my older brother and asked if there was such a thing as a red sapphire. He responded by saying, “Yeah, it’s called a ruby.” I just smiled. My character would look for a red sapphire instead of a ruby. Now I would need to come up with a story as to why it was a sapphire. That took a whole backstory which would only be eluded to here and there. Then I needed a couple of antagonists to keep the story interesting. Enter cousins Bander and Rander, the biggest pains in the neck I could create. They ride Linvin about every choice he makes. After all that I just needed to put things in order and make a storyline. Soon I found I had a book. All that came from just a little nugget.
August 8, 2017
Marketing Your Book
My granddaughter is in the next room watching cartoons under the watchful eye of my 16-year-old. I could think of no better time to write my blog. I salute you if you get your book published. You have achieved something millions of others have only dreamed of doing. Now it is my duty to tell you your work is just beginning. It is time to market your book. You can hire a company to do it if you have the money. But you’re never going to see that money again. In the long run, it will still come down to you marketing your book. Here are some different methods: 1) blogs: There are many blogs out there specializing in your type of writing. Every day they need something new to post. Contact them. If you contact enough of them, one is sure to have an opening for an interview, excerpt, blurb, character interview, or article from you. Then they plug your book on their site to all of their readers. 2) You could do a book review. Again, you would proposition the blogs about reading your book in return for an honest review. These are harder to find and usually take a while of waiting in line before they can get to you. In the end, you get a review and stars next to your book on whatever web site you’re selling on currently. 3) Get your books on the shelf of an independent book store. This is really a win for you if you can pull this off. But be careful. You supply the books but the store sets the price. In the end you could end up losing money, as was the case with me. If everything works then see if you can do a book signing. You will need to buy additional books and assorted print materials from a print shop. It’s a great way to meet your audience Also pictures can go up on Facebook and your own web address. There’s nothing new here. I didn’t reinvent the wheel. These are just proven methods of marketing you can do yourself. Good luck to you
