This post is for me, so I remember . . . this is where I'm ranked on Amazon today (author by category):
March 30:
All books: 3,741/32.8 million
e-Books: 2,277/1.24 million
Romance: 1,069/327,000
Contemporary romance: 519/113,000
March 31:
All books: 3,283/32.8 million
e-Books: 1,840/1.24 million
Romance: 877/327,000
Contemporary romance: 403/113,000
April 3:
All books: 3,907/32.8 million
e-Books: 2,356/1.24 million
Romance: 1,106/327,000
Contemporary romance: 529/113,000
Monday, March 30, 2015
Sunday, March 29, 2015
so you want to be a writer?
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
—Charles Bukowski, 1920–1994
Saturday, March 28, 2015
"I'm a writer," she said.
"What do you do?" asked the woman behind the counter after overhearing a conversation I was having about book sales.
"I'm a writer," I answered.
"O-o-o-h, how interesting. What do you write?"
"Romance novels."
"O-o-o-h, what kind?"
"Not that kind."
Some facsimile of this conversation has taken place many, many times. I thank Fifty Shades of Gray for the final question. Whenever I say "romance," erotica comes to mind. I don't write erotica. To put it plainly, I often say my books are five shades, if that. The frank statement elicits a head nod and a little smile.
I'm a writer, and I also . . . is fast becoming, I'm a writer. Not quite fast enough for the woman who helps promote my books, however. The important part is I'm writing. Every day. I may take days off here and there, but I am committed to writing every day. After less than a week, I'm 20 percent into the next book in the Crested Butte series. There will be hiccups, and edit stages, and time to let it sit before it is released, but it's well on its way.
I've gone from frustration to elation with my book sales. So many people I know who read my books, told me they "loved" them. Enough that I didn't think they were just being nice. In a conversation with my book promoter, I said, "I just wish more people would read them." Every author's wish, right?
Suddenly they're being read. I know this because of my Kindle Unlimited numbers, and reviews people are posting. Kindle Unlimited only shows up if a certain percentage of the book is read.
With the sales surge this month, not just with the new release, but with all the books, I am convinced writing more books, continuing on this journey, is worthwhile. I don't think the methodology I'm using would work for everyone. I think it works for people who are prolific writers.
At our annual Christmas party, I got into a conversation with a couple who are following my journey as a writer. The husband had suggestions for people I should follow on Twitter, and one particular tweeter whose blog I might find interesting. The more he talked about this guy's insight and suggestions for self-publishing, the more I nodded my head. "I'm doing all that," I thought to myself, but didn't interrupt.
The wife who has read one of my books, and was part way through the second, asked questions about why I write what I write. I went into a lengthy explanation on how the Crested Butte Cowboy series came to be. And then I said, "My plan is to have a minimum of three books in one series, and at least two books in another series." The idea was to build readership, I had to prove I was worth investing in as an author.
When FLY, the fourth book in the CBC series came out, I had a little bump in sales, but when LINGER TWO came out (second book, second series), my sales really took off. Based on sales numbers, people who have read all four of the CBC books are now reading the LINGER series. I don't have proof of that, but it's a logical assumption. Thus, theory proven, or plan validated.
I want to get one more CBC book out, finish out the LINGER series, and then introduce the third series of books I'm planning. As with anything, that plan is subject to change, on a daily or even hourly basis.
"I'm a writer," I answered.
"O-o-o-h, how interesting. What do you write?"
"Romance novels."
"O-o-o-h, what kind?"
"Not that kind."
Some facsimile of this conversation has taken place many, many times. I thank Fifty Shades of Gray for the final question. Whenever I say "romance," erotica comes to mind. I don't write erotica. To put it plainly, I often say my books are five shades, if that. The frank statement elicits a head nod and a little smile.
I'm a writer, and I also . . . is fast becoming, I'm a writer. Not quite fast enough for the woman who helps promote my books, however. The important part is I'm writing. Every day. I may take days off here and there, but I am committed to writing every day. After less than a week, I'm 20 percent into the next book in the Crested Butte series. There will be hiccups, and edit stages, and time to let it sit before it is released, but it's well on its way.
I've gone from frustration to elation with my book sales. So many people I know who read my books, told me they "loved" them. Enough that I didn't think they were just being nice. In a conversation with my book promoter, I said, "I just wish more people would read them." Every author's wish, right?
Suddenly they're being read. I know this because of my Kindle Unlimited numbers, and reviews people are posting. Kindle Unlimited only shows up if a certain percentage of the book is read.
With the sales surge this month, not just with the new release, but with all the books, I am convinced writing more books, continuing on this journey, is worthwhile. I don't think the methodology I'm using would work for everyone. I think it works for people who are prolific writers.
At our annual Christmas party, I got into a conversation with a couple who are following my journey as a writer. The husband had suggestions for people I should follow on Twitter, and one particular tweeter whose blog I might find interesting. The more he talked about this guy's insight and suggestions for self-publishing, the more I nodded my head. "I'm doing all that," I thought to myself, but didn't interrupt.
The wife who has read one of my books, and was part way through the second, asked questions about why I write what I write. I went into a lengthy explanation on how the Crested Butte Cowboy series came to be. And then I said, "My plan is to have a minimum of three books in one series, and at least two books in another series." The idea was to build readership, I had to prove I was worth investing in as an author.
When FLY, the fourth book in the CBC series came out, I had a little bump in sales, but when LINGER TWO came out (second book, second series), my sales really took off. Based on sales numbers, people who have read all four of the CBC books are now reading the LINGER series. I don't have proof of that, but it's a logical assumption. Thus, theory proven, or plan validated.
I want to get one more CBC book out, finish out the LINGER series, and then introduce the third series of books I'm planning. As with anything, that plan is subject to change, on a daily or even hourly basis.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
And Then You . . . DARE!
Last week I was determined to get as much done as possible, so this week I could spend my time writing. Late in the week, Doug and I decided to try to work a ski trip in, which would've cut into my writing time significantly. I can't say that I'm happy Doug had a tooth abscess, but since he did, we didn't go skiing, and I've been able to write.
At first I thought I'd work on the third book in the Linger series. The characters have been on mind so much. But after more consideration, I decided it would be more prudent to write the fifth book in the Crested Butte Cowboy series. After all, that series outsells the other about a hundred to one.
I've planned the CBC series out to another four books, at least. There may be more. I also knew which book was next.
One of my beta readers told me she'd love to know Billy Patterson's parents' backstory. She said it to me over dinner one night. The wheels immediately began to turn. What fun to write Bill and Dottie's story, I thought. I also wanted to write the story of young, up-and-coming bull rider. The two ideas fit nicely together, and DARE was born.
Like the others, this book is practically writing itself. The ideas come faster than I can type them. I started writing late yesterday afternoon, and by the time I called it a night, I had written over three thousand words. That number of words is the equivalent of ten or eleven pages. Which, I can tell you, is A LOT for a writer to get out in one sitting. I've been at it a little over two hours today, and have added another thousand words. Like I said, I simply can't type as fast as the ideas are coming to me.
Already I love this book, the idea of it, and the writing style I'm applying to it. I can see and hear the characters so clearly. As I get further into it, we'll see some of our old friends again (characters from the first four books), but to this point, it's mostly new character introduction. Bill Patterson is one. He's an old character, but the way we're meeting him, makes him seem like a new one.
I love this. I know I've said it countless times, but I do. I love the process. I love when a story begins to take shape, and the scenes come to me as though I'm being given a gift. As a writer, I cannot imagine a better feeling. Not even selling a book, or selling a thousand books, feels as good to me as writing one does.
At first I thought I'd work on the third book in the Linger series. The characters have been on mind so much. But after more consideration, I decided it would be more prudent to write the fifth book in the Crested Butte Cowboy series. After all, that series outsells the other about a hundred to one.
I've planned the CBC series out to another four books, at least. There may be more. I also knew which book was next.
One of my beta readers told me she'd love to know Billy Patterson's parents' backstory. She said it to me over dinner one night. The wheels immediately began to turn. What fun to write Bill and Dottie's story, I thought. I also wanted to write the story of young, up-and-coming bull rider. The two ideas fit nicely together, and DARE was born.
Like the others, this book is practically writing itself. The ideas come faster than I can type them. I started writing late yesterday afternoon, and by the time I called it a night, I had written over three thousand words. That number of words is the equivalent of ten or eleven pages. Which, I can tell you, is A LOT for a writer to get out in one sitting. I've been at it a little over two hours today, and have added another thousand words. Like I said, I simply can't type as fast as the ideas are coming to me.
Already I love this book, the idea of it, and the writing style I'm applying to it. I can see and hear the characters so clearly. As I get further into it, we'll see some of our old friends again (characters from the first four books), but to this point, it's mostly new character introduction. Bill Patterson is one. He's an old character, but the way we're meeting him, makes him seem like a new one.
I love this. I know I've said it countless times, but I do. I love the process. I love when a story begins to take shape, and the scenes come to me as though I'm being given a gift. As a writer, I cannot imagine a better feeling. Not even selling a book, or selling a thousand books, feels as good to me as writing one does.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
The Accident Update
I got a call on Monday saying my car was ready to be picked up. This was good news, but it was also a reminder that the person who hit Doug last month still had not responded to their insurance company. And that meant I was responsible for paying the $500 deductible with the hope we would get reimbursed.
It also meant it was time to return the rental car I'd had for seventeen days. Another out-of-pocket expense.
My frustration with this guy not taking responsibility for hitting my car turned into anger. The unfairness that I was laying out $1,300 when all Doug did was wait at a stop sign made my blood boil.
The Thursday before I called our insurance agent, who happens to be the driver's insurance agent. The only thing we don't have with them is our auto insurance. I told him what had happened; he said he was aware of the accident, but hadn't known it was us who were hit. I went on to explain how the driver was refusing to return his own adjuster's call. My agent said he knew the family, and he'd work it from his side. He also promised to call me on Friday with an update.
By Monday afternoon, I still hadn't heard back from him, only serving to make me angrier. I called and left him a message. An hour or so later I heard back from him. He had spoken to the insured and prevailed upon him to return the call or face putting his policy in jeopardy. I called my adjuster to give her the update, and she said she'd follow up by the end of the week.
All this . . . when all he had to do was return a phone call and talk to an adjuster for a few minutes. Additionally, our agent told us that there was a simple thing he could do to keep his rates from going up. Not that refusing to return the calls of his insurance adjuster would've prevented his rates from going up.
Late yesterday afternoon I got an email from our adjuster. The driver's insurance was accepting liability and my deductible was being returned to me. They would also "pass the rental invoice on to another adjuster." That sentence didn't thrill me, but at least it's a step in the right direction.
Something so simple, made so complicated. I'm happy the resolution is in the works, but hope I don't "run into" the driver in the grocery store. Perils of living in a small town. Perils of karma too.
It also meant it was time to return the rental car I'd had for seventeen days. Another out-of-pocket expense.
My frustration with this guy not taking responsibility for hitting my car turned into anger. The unfairness that I was laying out $1,300 when all Doug did was wait at a stop sign made my blood boil.
The Thursday before I called our insurance agent, who happens to be the driver's insurance agent. The only thing we don't have with them is our auto insurance. I told him what had happened; he said he was aware of the accident, but hadn't known it was us who were hit. I went on to explain how the driver was refusing to return his own adjuster's call. My agent said he knew the family, and he'd work it from his side. He also promised to call me on Friday with an update.
By Monday afternoon, I still hadn't heard back from him, only serving to make me angrier. I called and left him a message. An hour or so later I heard back from him. He had spoken to the insured and prevailed upon him to return the call or face putting his policy in jeopardy. I called my adjuster to give her the update, and she said she'd follow up by the end of the week.
All this . . . when all he had to do was return a phone call and talk to an adjuster for a few minutes. Additionally, our agent told us that there was a simple thing he could do to keep his rates from going up. Not that refusing to return the calls of his insurance adjuster would've prevented his rates from going up.
Late yesterday afternoon I got an email from our adjuster. The driver's insurance was accepting liability and my deductible was being returned to me. They would also "pass the rental invoice on to another adjuster." That sentence didn't thrill me, but at least it's a step in the right direction.
Something so simple, made so complicated. I'm happy the resolution is in the works, but hope I don't "run into" the driver in the grocery store. Perils of living in a small town. Perils of karma too.
If You Sold That Many in a Local Bookstore . . .
Yesterday I was lamenting to Doug about how my book sales have dropped over the last few days.
"How many did you sell today?"
"Sixty-eight. And another fifty through Kindle Unlimited."
His eyes got big, and then he said, "if you sold that many in a local bookstore in a day, you'd be pretty damn happy."
When I logged on this morning to find my sales at eight and Kindle Unlimited at twenty, I heard his voice in my head. And yes, I'm pretty damn happy.
"How many did you sell today?"
"Sixty-eight. And another fifty through Kindle Unlimited."
His eyes got big, and then he said, "if you sold that many in a local bookstore in a day, you'd be pretty damn happy."
When I logged on this morning to find my sales at eight and Kindle Unlimited at twenty, I heard his voice in my head. And yes, I'm pretty damn happy.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Need
I need to write . . . for a number of reasons. First, it feeds my soul. Second, if I'm going to be a full-time writer, I have to spend my time writing. That isn't easy right now, since so many things are pulling me in so many other directions. But my plan is to write full-time, by August of this year, so three years after I started my first book.
It's a daunting prospect. But I have an equally daunting list of books I want to write. There are the rest of the books in the Crested Butte Cowboy series, the final book in the Linger series . . . which could possibly lead to more books about our soon-to-be-favorite-FBI-guy, Cooper Prescott. There is the series set in the Central Coast Wine Country . . . combining my love of wine, art, music, and cowboys . . . I mean seriously, what could be better?
On top of that I have a couple spec books I want to write, under pseudonyms (yes more than one, maybe even as many as three!).
Someone asked me yesterday if I would consider doing more ghost-writing and editing work. My answer was I would.
This week on CBS Sunday Morning, there was a segment about people doing something extraordinary in the latter part of their lives. I didn't see the whole segment, and then I accidentally deleted it. Maybe I can find it on their website. Anyway, in the preview they mentioned Grandma Moses . . . and others, but that's the only one I can remember. I'm not certain if the premise was something extraordinary; maybe it was more about people finding their passion, and it never being too late to do so.
I am all about finding not only my passion, but my peace these days. What will bring me peace? I told Doug that if there was one word I wanted to be the keyword of the second half of my life, it would be peaceful. I'm striving for a sense of it. I also told him that I loved writing more than anything, and would like nothing better than to be able to do it full-time.
These last fifteen days have given me a glimpse of what that might look like. While my soaring sales have diminished greatly, there is still enough activity that I remain positive about it. If I could sustain the sales level of the last two weeks consistently, which would mean having a lot more books for sale, and doing a good job of promoting those books, I can make my dream a reality.
My needs aren't much different than anyone else's. Find something you love to do, and spend your time doing it. For me that means doing my best to not allow myself to get sidetracked with things I don't love doing. It also means having the self-discipline to follow my dreams and the tenacity to stick with it. I'm ready.
It's a daunting prospect. But I have an equally daunting list of books I want to write. There are the rest of the books in the Crested Butte Cowboy series, the final book in the Linger series . . . which could possibly lead to more books about our soon-to-be-favorite-FBI-guy, Cooper Prescott. There is the series set in the Central Coast Wine Country . . . combining my love of wine, art, music, and cowboys . . . I mean seriously, what could be better?
On top of that I have a couple spec books I want to write, under pseudonyms (yes more than one, maybe even as many as three!).
Someone asked me yesterday if I would consider doing more ghost-writing and editing work. My answer was I would.
This week on CBS Sunday Morning, there was a segment about people doing something extraordinary in the latter part of their lives. I didn't see the whole segment, and then I accidentally deleted it. Maybe I can find it on their website. Anyway, in the preview they mentioned Grandma Moses . . . and others, but that's the only one I can remember. I'm not certain if the premise was something extraordinary; maybe it was more about people finding their passion, and it never being too late to do so.
I am all about finding not only my passion, but my peace these days. What will bring me peace? I told Doug that if there was one word I wanted to be the keyword of the second half of my life, it would be peaceful. I'm striving for a sense of it. I also told him that I loved writing more than anything, and would like nothing better than to be able to do it full-time.
These last fifteen days have given me a glimpse of what that might look like. While my soaring sales have diminished greatly, there is still enough activity that I remain positive about it. If I could sustain the sales level of the last two weeks consistently, which would mean having a lot more books for sale, and doing a good job of promoting those books, I can make my dream a reality.
My needs aren't much different than anyone else's. Find something you love to do, and spend your time doing it. For me that means doing my best to not allow myself to get sidetracked with things I don't love doing. It also means having the self-discipline to follow my dreams and the tenacity to stick with it. I'm ready.
Thursday, March 12, 2015
And It Continues . . .
Book sales continue to hit the over-one-hundred mark day after day. My lowest number was on Wednesday, March 4, and it was still slightly over one hundred. This morning when I logged on at 8:00am, I'd already sold eighty-three.
The phenomenon that begin February 28 continues. It remains unexplained. I would question a slower sales growth less; it is the surge that baffles me. To go from selling a handful, to almost six hundred in a day, followed by twelve days in a row of sales over one hundred, or two hundred . . . well, you've heard it enough already.
I am eager to write . . . very eager. I am hoping to get some time this weekend to do so, maybe even today. I have some other work to take care of, and it typically takes me far more time than I expect it to. Although, it will take longer still if I don't end this post and get started on it.
The phenomenon that begin February 28 continues. It remains unexplained. I would question a slower sales growth less; it is the surge that baffles me. To go from selling a handful, to almost six hundred in a day, followed by twelve days in a row of sales over one hundred, or two hundred . . . well, you've heard it enough already.
I am eager to write . . . very eager. I am hoping to get some time this weekend to do so, maybe even today. I have some other work to take care of, and it typically takes me far more time than I expect it to. Although, it will take longer still if I don't end this post and get started on it.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
The Premise of Change
Life is forever changing, which is a difficult premise for those of us who don't do well with change. It isn't that I can't manage it, it's just that I'm generally happy to plod along doing many of the same things day after day. That part of my personality drives Doug a little crazy. He is the type of guy who doesn't like to do the same things twice. Vacations, for example. I'd be perfectly happy visiting the same place year after year. Not Doug. "We've already been there," he'll say to me. I love this about him, because it breaks me out of my comfort zone.
I don't lack for new experiences in my life, not necessarily all driven by Doug. I seek out plenty of new opportunities and have always been eager to learn and do new things on a professional level.
I am a big believer in one door opening when another closes. There have been many times in my life that the opportunity that came with the newly opened door was far better than what I left behind.
It's the in-between part that gives me pause. The unknown of whether the door will actually open, and if it does, will I be invited to walk through it. And then if I am, will I be good at whatever it is? Will I like it? As you can see, my first concern is whether I'll be good at it or not; it always comes before whether I'll like it or not.
I am a perfectionist. It is a curse. It has driven me to do good work, to be a good resource or employee, as I continuously strive to do what I do the very best way it can be done. The curse part is what it does to my anxiety level.
I'm in a transition phase now. What I've been doing will be changing. Another door is partially open . . . I'll likely know more in the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, workaholic that I am, many parts of my life will stay the same. I'll continue to do marketing for Sparrow's clients; I'll continue to write books. I hope my day-to-day schedule evens out, where I'm working more during the day and with my family more in the evening. The current schedule of having events and/or classes to teach several nights a week has been difficult on Doug and the boys.
As I wrap up this blog post, I realize it isn't the change I have difficulty with, it's the premise of it . . . all the unknown bits and pieces. If history proves anything, I am resilient and able to manage pretty much anything life throws at me. And whether I like it or not, change is inevitable.
I don't lack for new experiences in my life, not necessarily all driven by Doug. I seek out plenty of new opportunities and have always been eager to learn and do new things on a professional level.
I am a big believer in one door opening when another closes. There have been many times in my life that the opportunity that came with the newly opened door was far better than what I left behind.
It's the in-between part that gives me pause. The unknown of whether the door will actually open, and if it does, will I be invited to walk through it. And then if I am, will I be good at whatever it is? Will I like it? As you can see, my first concern is whether I'll be good at it or not; it always comes before whether I'll like it or not.
I am a perfectionist. It is a curse. It has driven me to do good work, to be a good resource or employee, as I continuously strive to do what I do the very best way it can be done. The curse part is what it does to my anxiety level.
I'm in a transition phase now. What I've been doing will be changing. Another door is partially open . . . I'll likely know more in the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, workaholic that I am, many parts of my life will stay the same. I'll continue to do marketing for Sparrow's clients; I'll continue to write books. I hope my day-to-day schedule evens out, where I'm working more during the day and with my family more in the evening. The current schedule of having events and/or classes to teach several nights a week has been difficult on Doug and the boys.
As I wrap up this blog post, I realize it isn't the change I have difficulty with, it's the premise of it . . . all the unknown bits and pieces. If history proves anything, I am resilient and able to manage pretty much anything life throws at me. And whether I like it or not, change is inevitable.
Monday, March 09, 2015
Dare . . . a Teaser
I opened up book five in the Crested Butte Cowboy series today. I have no time to write, but it's calling me anyway. I started this book on February 20, and haven't looked at it since. I didn't get very far . . . only two pages, but as I read it that familiar feeling came over me. Wow, I thought to myself, I'm really gonna love this book. So here you go . . . it isn't much at all, but isn't that what a tease is supposed to be?
The bull he’d gotten on the night before wasn’t just a rank bucker, he was mean as all get out. There wasn’t anywhere on his body that Bullet didn’t hurt.
His ribs still hurt from getting under one a few months ago, and if the weather was cold, it hurt to breathe. His twenty-four-year-old body felt more like it was forty, or sixty.
It didn’t help that he was back in Oklahoma, or that he’d gotten drunk the night before, simply because he didn’t want to face the shitstorm his life was becoming. Maybe that’s why his body hurt so badly, because it was being pulled in so many directions.
He wasn’t supposed to be here; he was supposed to be in Colorado, living his dream. He came to expect the calls from his mother-in-law, telling him he to get “home,” because his baby needed him. Each time it made him feel worse than the time before, because this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. They were supposed to be a family. Every few weeks, they’d try again. Each time it ended worse than the time before. The last time was so bad, he knew there wouldn’t be a next time. As he held his baby boy in his arms, the child’s mother attacked him. And she did it in front of her entire family.
She was sick. If she’d just take her medicine, none of this would happen. But she refused. The slightest thing could set her off, and he never knew what it would be.
He’d been in Oklahoma four days when he heard a local stock contractor was bucking bulls. He had to get on one. Had to. Riding bulls was in his blood. He thought about it all the time, even dreamt about it.
His sister called it an adrenaline-addiction, but it wasn’t criticism. She was about the only one in his family who understood. Even though Lyric hadn’t ever tried to ride a bull, or a bronc, or even barrel-raced, no one seemed to understand rodeo better than she did.
She was the founder of RodeoChat, a social-media-based outlet for rodeo news. Lyric managed to keep her finger on the pulse of rodeo around the world. She knew the schedules, statistics, and habits of the cowboys and cowgirls who competed across the field in every event. Since it’s founding, Lyric had interviewed hundreds of them for her weekly Twitterviews and YouTube videos.
That’s why she understood. When he tried to explain how he felt to their parents, Lyric backed him up. In fact, she compared it to their dad’s life.“You know how it feels,” she told him. “To be on stage, in front of thousands of people. It’s the same thing for Bullet, just a different thing drivin’ it.”
“Thousands of people aren’t threatening to kill me, that’s the difference.”
Every time Bullet got on the back of a bull, he knew he could die. It was that simple. Eight seconds. That’s what it took. If he could stay on the back of that bull for eight seconds, he’d conquer both the beast and himself.
Their mother shook her head and looked between him and his father. “Neither of you will ever grow up.”
Amazon's Response
I sent a message to Amazon yesterday and asked if they had any way of tracking where the surge in book sales came from. Their response: "It seems your series is a very popular read. Keep in mind that people tend to often buy all the books in the series if they are happy with the first few editions." They went on to say that for account security reasons they cannot share any information about their customers or their purchase history. They closed with, "I hope you continue selling many more copies of your books!"
Okay. I hope so too.
Okay. I hope so too.
Sunday, March 08, 2015
Seventeen, Twenty-Three and Twenty-Six
This warrants a second blog post. I just logged on to Google Analytics. In the last seven days, my author website has been viewed in seventeen states. In the last thirty days, it's been viewed in twenty-six states, and twenty-three countries. Holy Hannah.
Nine Days
Today is my ninth day in a row with book sales over 100. Many of those days the sales were over 200, and one was over 500. After periodically checking book sales over the course of the last eighteen months, and having the average be significantly lower than that, I'm dumbfounded. I've been dumbfounded for nine days.
Doug suggested I contact Amazon and see if they know where the book sale traffic is coming from. Good idea. I doubt they'll be able to tell me much, but as he said, it doesn't hurt to ask.
The thought that 2,500+ books . . . that I wrote . . . are in the hands of readers blows my mind. FLY alone has sold over 1,000 books, since February 14. This is crazy to me. Not even a month. Wow.
I know I'm writing about this a lot. And talking about it a lot. But, this is pretty exciting stuff for me. So I'm going to keep writing about it, and talking about it. Okay?
Doug suggested I contact Amazon and see if they know where the book sale traffic is coming from. Good idea. I doubt they'll be able to tell me much, but as he said, it doesn't hurt to ask.
The thought that 2,500+ books . . . that I wrote . . . are in the hands of readers blows my mind. FLY alone has sold over 1,000 books, since February 14. This is crazy to me. Not even a month. Wow.
I know I'm writing about this a lot. And talking about it a lot. But, this is pretty exciting stuff for me. So I'm going to keep writing about it, and talking about it. Okay?
Friday, March 06, 2015
KONGOS
Frank and I went to the see the Kongos last night. We had VIP tickets, but weren't really sure what to expect. The VIP experience differs so greatly from band to band, show to show.
We arrived at 5:00 and waited in line for about 15 minutes before they asked for anyone with private show tickets to come forward. I checked our tickets, and ours were defined as such. We went to the front of the line and were admitted entrance to Summit Music Hall. If you've never been and like small-venue live music, consider a show here.
We stood around for a little while; the main area, where the audience usually stands was full of equipment for what looked like three bands. Finally someone flagged us down and showed us where to go. We checked in and were told to wait for our VIP host. We were two of about twenty people milling about looking confused.
We overheard the merch guy checking people in and realized that was what we were supposed to do. About the same time, a guy named Mo introduced himself, and told us he was the Kongos' stage manager, and would be our host. A few minutes later he ushered the twenty of us backstage into a "VIP lounge."
There in the corner of the lounge were the Kongos: Johnny (accordion player), Jessie (the drummer, but he was holding a guitar), Dylan (guitar and vocals), and Danny (guitar and vocals). They were seated on stools in front of several couches.
They introduced themselves, Mo introduced us to them. Which, by the way, was pretty impressive. He'd just met us, yet he remembered all of our names.
The band played four acoustic songs, including their "gypsy" version of Come With Me Now. We got to chat with them, and then lined up for photos and merch signing. Frank bought their album in vinyl and had them sign it. We were first in line and forgot to ask them to sign our passes. We also forgot to ask them for a pic with both Frank and me. Once we'd gotten out of line, Mo mentioned it to me, and then told us once everyone else was finished, we should go back up and get the pic and the passes signed. The band was very gracious about having us come through a second time.
Jessie and Frank got in a conversation about his guitar the first time around, because Frank has a Martin just like his. Jessie told him it was a great guitar for the road . . . which is what Doug told Frank when we got it for him. Love it when the touring musician confirms dad's hipness.
Once the meet and greet ended, we went out to listen to the opening band's sound check. Two bands opened for the Kongos: Colony House and Sir Sly. We met both at the end of the show second meet and greet. Their performances were outstanding, and both bands were really nice.
As we usually do, we met some really fun people at the show. Our interaction with one group, who was standing to the right of where we were in the center of the front row, started out horribly. A father brought his two daughters to the show, and even though they weren't in the first VIP group, they somehow made it to the front row. Frank went to the restroom, and when he came back, the man's daughter was not about to move to let Frank back into his spot. Very poor concert etiquette. Frank politely excused himself and asked her to move over a little bit to let him back in. The father started yelling at Frank about pushing his daughter out of the way. Mama Bear stepped in and again politely, told the girl's father that we had been there early, etc. The people to our left chimed in and informed the guy that we'd had early entry, please "be cool," and backed us up. Not that we needed it.
The girl, who I later found out was 13, started to cry, and I continued my polite conversation with the dad. Within 15 minutes we were all friends, and the rest of the night went well. We even got them into the after-show meet and greet and she got her photo with the band. She videoed my favorite song and then texted me a copy of it. Good concert karma.
I love experiences like last night, even with the fifteen minutes of angst. The Kongos seem as though they are poised for bigger and bigger. I'm so thankful and happy we got to hang out with them for a little while last night. They're a very nice family, and I'm sure their parents are very proud of them.
We arrived at 5:00 and waited in line for about 15 minutes before they asked for anyone with private show tickets to come forward. I checked our tickets, and ours were defined as such. We went to the front of the line and were admitted entrance to Summit Music Hall. If you've never been and like small-venue live music, consider a show here.
We stood around for a little while; the main area, where the audience usually stands was full of equipment for what looked like three bands. Finally someone flagged us down and showed us where to go. We checked in and were told to wait for our VIP host. We were two of about twenty people milling about looking confused.
We overheard the merch guy checking people in and realized that was what we were supposed to do. About the same time, a guy named Mo introduced himself, and told us he was the Kongos' stage manager, and would be our host. A few minutes later he ushered the twenty of us backstage into a "VIP lounge."
There in the corner of the lounge were the Kongos: Johnny (accordion player), Jessie (the drummer, but he was holding a guitar), Dylan (guitar and vocals), and Danny (guitar and vocals). They were seated on stools in front of several couches.
They introduced themselves, Mo introduced us to them. Which, by the way, was pretty impressive. He'd just met us, yet he remembered all of our names.
The band played four acoustic songs, including their "gypsy" version of Come With Me Now. We got to chat with them, and then lined up for photos and merch signing. Frank bought their album in vinyl and had them sign it. We were first in line and forgot to ask them to sign our passes. We also forgot to ask them for a pic with both Frank and me. Once we'd gotten out of line, Mo mentioned it to me, and then told us once everyone else was finished, we should go back up and get the pic and the passes signed. The band was very gracious about having us come through a second time.
Jessie and Frank got in a conversation about his guitar the first time around, because Frank has a Martin just like his. Jessie told him it was a great guitar for the road . . . which is what Doug told Frank when we got it for him. Love it when the touring musician confirms dad's hipness.
Once the meet and greet ended, we went out to listen to the opening band's sound check. Two bands opened for the Kongos: Colony House and Sir Sly. We met both at the end of the show second meet and greet. Their performances were outstanding, and both bands were really nice.
As we usually do, we met some really fun people at the show. Our interaction with one group, who was standing to the right of where we were in the center of the front row, started out horribly. A father brought his two daughters to the show, and even though they weren't in the first VIP group, they somehow made it to the front row. Frank went to the restroom, and when he came back, the man's daughter was not about to move to let Frank back into his spot. Very poor concert etiquette. Frank politely excused himself and asked her to move over a little bit to let him back in. The father started yelling at Frank about pushing his daughter out of the way. Mama Bear stepped in and again politely, told the girl's father that we had been there early, etc. The people to our left chimed in and informed the guy that we'd had early entry, please "be cool," and backed us up. Not that we needed it.
The girl, who I later found out was 13, started to cry, and I continued my polite conversation with the dad. Within 15 minutes we were all friends, and the rest of the night went well. We even got them into the after-show meet and greet and she got her photo with the band. She videoed my favorite song and then texted me a copy of it. Good concert karma.
I love experiences like last night, even with the fifteen minutes of angst. The Kongos seem as though they are poised for bigger and bigger. I'm so thankful and happy we got to hang out with them for a little while last night. They're a very nice family, and I'm sure their parents are very proud of them.
Tuesday, March 03, 2015
Seventy-Seven and Counting
Today is the fourth day in a row that my book sales are unexpectedly and significantly higher than they've been to this point. It all began on Saturday, February 28, with a surge in sales of all my books. I've already written a blog post about that day. And the next day. Today's post is about day four . . . and day three.
I've run promotions in the past that have resulted in a surge in downloads, only to have that surge abruptly end at the promotion's end. In other words, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for my sales to go back to their previous levels. Some may say this is a realistic approach, others may say I'm being pessimistic. The pessimism is a natural reaction in order to give myself permission not to be too disappointed when they plummet, because I've expected it all along.
There is, however, a tiny part of me that hopes this is the beginning of a new trend of interest in my books. I am completely afraid of allowing myself to feel this way, for fear of the let down. Whether you agree with my thinking or not, there isn't much I can do about it. It's how I think, how I feel, and no amount of logic or coaching about the power of positive thinking will change it.
Yesterday I watched as the sales took a bit of a dip . . . here it goes, I thought to myself. At the end of the day, or midnight, my final sales were 255 and Kindle Unlimited downloads were 53. The day before, Sunday, my sales were 277 and KU downloads were 52. I am thrilled with these numbers. If I were able to sustain this trend, averaging 200–250 books sold per day, I would be making a decent amount of money as an author.
I look at my sales reports in awe, marveling that in the first two days and sixteen hours of this month, my book sales are between 250 and 500 times what they were in months prior, depending on the book.
I am blown away that the numbers for the Linger series are above the previous average numbers for the Crested Butte Cowboy series . . . because then, prior to four days ago, that was my best-selling series and I was thrilled with the numbers I was seeing.
Essentially a blog is an online journal that the writer or writers decide to share with the world. That is true for me. I write this blog more for me than for anyone else. From time to time I go back and read posts from years past. It's one of the reasons I try to avoid writing much negative here, because I don't want to remember the bad stuff, I want to be reminded of the good stuff.
This is darn good stuff. Stuff I hope becomes commonplace one day, and then I will look back and think . . . remember when . . . and smile, because I'll never forget how good today felt.
I've run promotions in the past that have resulted in a surge in downloads, only to have that surge abruptly end at the promotion's end. In other words, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for my sales to go back to their previous levels. Some may say this is a realistic approach, others may say I'm being pessimistic. The pessimism is a natural reaction in order to give myself permission not to be too disappointed when they plummet, because I've expected it all along.
There is, however, a tiny part of me that hopes this is the beginning of a new trend of interest in my books. I am completely afraid of allowing myself to feel this way, for fear of the let down. Whether you agree with my thinking or not, there isn't much I can do about it. It's how I think, how I feel, and no amount of logic or coaching about the power of positive thinking will change it.
Yesterday I watched as the sales took a bit of a dip . . . here it goes, I thought to myself. At the end of the day, or midnight, my final sales were 255 and Kindle Unlimited downloads were 53. The day before, Sunday, my sales were 277 and KU downloads were 52. I am thrilled with these numbers. If I were able to sustain this trend, averaging 200–250 books sold per day, I would be making a decent amount of money as an author.
I look at my sales reports in awe, marveling that in the first two days and sixteen hours of this month, my book sales are between 250 and 500 times what they were in months prior, depending on the book.
I am blown away that the numbers for the Linger series are above the previous average numbers for the Crested Butte Cowboy series . . . because then, prior to four days ago, that was my best-selling series and I was thrilled with the numbers I was seeing.
Essentially a blog is an online journal that the writer or writers decide to share with the world. That is true for me. I write this blog more for me than for anyone else. From time to time I go back and read posts from years past. It's one of the reasons I try to avoid writing much negative here, because I don't want to remember the bad stuff, I want to be reminded of the good stuff.
This is darn good stuff. Stuff I hope becomes commonplace one day, and then I will look back and think . . . remember when . . . and smile, because I'll never forget how good today felt.
Monday, March 02, 2015
Angel on My Shoulder
As I travel this journey of life, there are often times I feel as though I have an angel sitting on my shoulder. I've decided the angel is female, and if I close my eyes and imagine what she looks like, she looks exactly like my grandmother.
She doesn't always make the road an easy one to travel. I'm sure she believes that the struggles I face make me stronger . . . a better person, and a better parent. She's thrown me some curve balls through the years; some of them were so hard to navigate that I wasn't sure I'd make it through. Yet I did. The fact that I'm writing this blog post is surely evidence.
Other times, she has bestowed on me great fortune: meeting my husband, and having both of my children. Living through my pregnancy with Frank was one of the struggles I wasn't sure I'd make it through. The fact that I even got pregnant with Beckett, essentially a medical miracle, is another example of her generosity. I never wanted Frank to be an only child, and for five years, we were certain he would be.
I've had life-threatening health issues that are now in my rearview mirror. There were times I wasn't sure if I'd make it through those either.
I've been so fortunate in my career. When I was still in college, my mother came to me and told me my grandfather wanted to move to California. My grandmother had been gone almost five years at that point. I took a leave of absence from work, flew to Buffalo, and had a conversation with my grandfather. I asked him why he wanted to move to California after living his whole life in East Aurora. He didn't. He just couldn't live alone anymore. Once again, my guardian angel came through for me. Within a week I had a great job, in my field, working for a man who became my mentor.
When my grandfather passed away, I had a job with an advertising agency in California, as creative director, a week after I sent out resumes. From there, it hasn't always been easy, but one after another, amazing opportunities have been presented to me.
It was a visit to my grandparents', and other ancestors' graves, that served as inspiration and led to me writing my first book. I'm sure she had a lot to do with it, as she is a central character in that book.
I've been interviewed by national newspapers, have even been the subject of one. I've been on national television, and have had other unique opportunities like that fall in my lap.
I've met amazing people on my journey. Serendipitously. People who I now call friends. I've had the great fortune of meeting people whose work I admire. I've met artists and rock stars, authors and other seemingly normal yet absolutely extraordinary people. The perfect example is Marc Roberge opening the 2013 Red Rocks concert standing next to me, and the conversation Frank and I got to have with him before he started singing. In that conversation he told Frank what a great mom he had. Neither Frank or I will ever forget it.
Is my life charmed? No, definitely not. Do I love it? You betcha. Am I thankful? Do you need to ask? I often post on social media that I love my life. I'm sure it makes people roll their eyes from time to time, but I couldn't care less. The other thing the angel on my shoulder does is remind me to start each day with a smile on my face, and an eager openness to whatever the day brings.
Sunday, March 01, 2015
And in the End: 527
I suppose the title of the post is a little premature, but given I have no idea why the sales of my books took such a big jump yesterday, I don't expect the trend to continue today. Although so far this morning, fifty-eight books have sold.
I went to a bull riding event last night, and periodically checked my sales on Amazon, by the end of it, total book sales were at 494. I really wanted to hit the 500 mark, but again, not knowing what the impetus was behind this surge, I certainly wasn't going to complain about the number.
By the time I went to bed, around midnight, it hit 527. On top of that, almost 100 were read on Kindle Unlimited. For anyone unfamiliar with the publishing industry, these numbers are huge for an independent writer who has had books on the market for less than eighteen months. While I started writing my first book in August of 2012, the first book I published went on Amazon on September 30 of 2013.
From a ranking standpoint, AND THEN YOU FLY ranked the highest yesterday, coming in at #57 on the paid romance list. I can't remember the highest it got on the all-paid list. I think it was in the low six hundreds. It's up this morning to #68 on romance and #911 on all-paid.
As I said yesterday, I'm assuming Amazon ran some kind of promotion, but I have no idea what it was. As with everything else about this process of becoming an author, I want to remember yesterday and what an incredible rush those twenty-four hours were. The feeling of having over 9,000 books downloaded for free, and hitting #6 on the free romance list with AND THEN YOU FALL was amazing. There isn't any question that I'll run a free book promotion next year on Black Friday. But this was so different. These are paid books.
I know that a percentage of the people who download free books, download every single free book there is, and will never read them. The Kindle Unlimited numbers are a little more optimistic because they don't show up until the person who downloaded the book has read a certain percentage of that book. Also, authors get paid for the KU downloads.
But again, this is so different. These are people choosing to BUY my books. February of 2015 was far and away the best month I've ever had for books sales, even if I took yesterday's numbers out of the equation. Someone asked me a few days or weeks ago if I was making a living as an author. Uh, no. Unless they're James Patterson, or someone on his level, authors make pennies on each book that sells. When you're selling millions and millions of books, you make money. In fact, it's within argument's reach that James Patterson too, makes only pennies on each book sale. Hard to say, but I doubt he makes much of his $5, $8 or $9 ebook sale. Much of that goes to his publisher for marketing and other costs.
So, if you're thinking about writing a book, or books, know upfront that it takes something extraordinary, like selling your books to a movie production company, or getting hit by literary lightning, like EL James did, or John Green.
Today I hope to celebrate . . . a little . . . maybe. At least inside my head I will. Even my family has become anesthetized to hearing about my book sales. Numbers run together and have become meaningless to them. It's hard to stay excited about the meager sales that have me walking on air. But it's me doing the walking on air, and I don't need anyone else to understand the euphoric feeling for me to own it.
I went to a bull riding event last night, and periodically checked my sales on Amazon, by the end of it, total book sales were at 494. I really wanted to hit the 500 mark, but again, not knowing what the impetus was behind this surge, I certainly wasn't going to complain about the number.
By the time I went to bed, around midnight, it hit 527. On top of that, almost 100 were read on Kindle Unlimited. For anyone unfamiliar with the publishing industry, these numbers are huge for an independent writer who has had books on the market for less than eighteen months. While I started writing my first book in August of 2012, the first book I published went on Amazon on September 30 of 2013.
From a ranking standpoint, AND THEN YOU FLY ranked the highest yesterday, coming in at #57 on the paid romance list. I can't remember the highest it got on the all-paid list. I think it was in the low six hundreds. It's up this morning to #68 on romance and #911 on all-paid.
As I said yesterday, I'm assuming Amazon ran some kind of promotion, but I have no idea what it was. As with everything else about this process of becoming an author, I want to remember yesterday and what an incredible rush those twenty-four hours were. The feeling of having over 9,000 books downloaded for free, and hitting #6 on the free romance list with AND THEN YOU FALL was amazing. There isn't any question that I'll run a free book promotion next year on Black Friday. But this was so different. These are paid books.
I know that a percentage of the people who download free books, download every single free book there is, and will never read them. The Kindle Unlimited numbers are a little more optimistic because they don't show up until the person who downloaded the book has read a certain percentage of that book. Also, authors get paid for the KU downloads.
But again, this is so different. These are people choosing to BUY my books. February of 2015 was far and away the best month I've ever had for books sales, even if I took yesterday's numbers out of the equation. Someone asked me a few days or weeks ago if I was making a living as an author. Uh, no. Unless they're James Patterson, or someone on his level, authors make pennies on each book that sells. When you're selling millions and millions of books, you make money. In fact, it's within argument's reach that James Patterson too, makes only pennies on each book sale. Hard to say, but I doubt he makes much of his $5, $8 or $9 ebook sale. Much of that goes to his publisher for marketing and other costs.
So, if you're thinking about writing a book, or books, know upfront that it takes something extraordinary, like selling your books to a movie production company, or getting hit by literary lightning, like EL James did, or John Green.
Today I hope to celebrate . . . a little . . . maybe. At least inside my head I will. Even my family has become anesthetized to hearing about my book sales. Numbers run together and have become meaningless to them. It's hard to stay excited about the meager sales that have me walking on air. But it's me doing the walking on air, and I don't need anyone else to understand the euphoric feeling for me to own it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)