How to be An Obsessive Compulsive Indie Author
So I wrote a science fiction western historical fantasy,
The Ghosts of Watt O’Hugh
, and according to the critics – those who have looked at it – it’s a good book. (Kirkus Reviews named it as one of the best of 2011, as you may have heard me mention about a thousand times, if you are a regular reader of my blog, or someone who knows me at all, or someone who was just unlucky enough to be introduced to me at Kiddush anytime in the last couple of months.) Happily, it’s the first book of a planned trilogy, and my next book seems good so far, at least to me – it’s got some surprising time travel, a gunfight in Death Valley, a visit to 枉死城, which I believe loosely translates as the Chinese “City of the Innocent Dead” (a really nasty place in the underworld that, surprisingly, has a bakery with delicious moon cakes), a rip-snorting train robbery, a magical Montana rabbi, and more from that dastardly and evil mathematician, Leopold Kronecker.
Less happily, it sometimes seems that an “Indie” author makes a choice between writing books and selling books.
Since my novel was published in July, I’ve queried numerous bloggers, followed up with those who agreed to review my book, and gave interviews to every website and newspaper that would talk to me. I have flown to every bookstore that would have me, near and far, and did what I could to publicize it. I’ve posted updates for everyone on my Facebook list, and my GoodReads list, and my Linked-In list, and anyone who checks in with my website. I pop by the local bookstores to see if they’re out of stock. With the help of my cover artist, I’ve designed my own publicity, from web ads to posters, which I’ve taped and tacked on the street and in coffee shops from Brooklyn to Maine. I’ve written guest posts for other bloggers, anyone who would have me. When my novel was chosen as one of the best of the year by Kirkus Reviews (as you may have heard me mention before), I emailed everyone who kind of likes me, and maybe everyone who has ever pretended to like me. I recently quit my job, and in my goodbye email, I reminded everyone that, if they missed me, they could always purchase my book, available on Amazon and at your local bookstore. My sales briefly rose, which was gratifying.
TO READ THIS POST IN ITS ENTIRETY, CLICK HERE
Less happily, it sometimes seems that an “Indie” author makes a choice between writing books and selling books.
Since my novel was published in July, I’ve queried numerous bloggers, followed up with those who agreed to review my book, and gave interviews to every website and newspaper that would talk to me. I have flown to every bookstore that would have me, near and far, and did what I could to publicize it. I’ve posted updates for everyone on my Facebook list, and my GoodReads list, and my Linked-In list, and anyone who checks in with my website. I pop by the local bookstores to see if they’re out of stock. With the help of my cover artist, I’ve designed my own publicity, from web ads to posters, which I’ve taped and tacked on the street and in coffee shops from Brooklyn to Maine. I’ve written guest posts for other bloggers, anyone who would have me. When my novel was chosen as one of the best of the year by Kirkus Reviews (as you may have heard me mention before), I emailed everyone who kind of likes me, and maybe everyone who has ever pretended to like me. I recently quit my job, and in my goodbye email, I reminded everyone that, if they missed me, they could always purchase my book, available on Amazon and at your local bookstore. My sales briefly rose, which was gratifying.
TO READ THIS POST IN ITS ENTIRETY, CLICK HERE
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