Indie Author Marketing: Update No. 6

Are we coming or going at this point? I’m not sure. It would seem I’m just following the road, windows down, music blasting and hoping beyond all hopes that the car is headed in the right direction. At least I have you all with me.

We just passed the week six marker. SIX WEEKS!?! Can you believe it? Feels like yesterday that I started this Independent Author Marketing Series, and now we’re here at the six week mark. Three weeks left until The Cantos Chronicles rereleases, and though it’s difficult to tell with accuracy, *preorders seem strong (which potentially is exciting).

*based on numbers provided by wholesale book distributor.

The Cantos Chronicles

The Cantos Chronicles

The method to keep things on the road this week involved these check list items:

Social Media

I listened to a great 15 minute podcast by Mixtus Media this week that purported it isn’t necessary to spread yourself too thin by doing ALL Social Media hotspots. Maybe that’s a little like visiting Disneyland and California Adventure and trying to do both parks and all the rides in one day. Instead, chose the format that works best and commit to that one. My favorite is Instagram. I touch base on Facebook. I’m rarely on Twitter. I do a drop in of Tumblr, but I spend the bulk of my social media presence on good old IG.

My GOAL for IG this week was to offer a bit more character depth to potential readers. All three protagonists (Abby, Seth and Gabe) were featured in my stories. Truthfully, I don’t think it worked as well as I had hoped. It was my fault - the premise of asking characters questions operates on the assumption that people already know them. What do you ask if you haven’t read the story? On the other hand, people who have read the stories saved me by asked some questions. Those answers may have offered potential readers food for thought. What do you think?

I don’t think the idea is a bad one, just perhaps that the execution could have been better.

Add to the Instagram mix, my awesome helpers on the book review and book recommendation blitz have been posting - one a day. That has been lovely to see and share. Anyone see a post from someone else that sparked your attention?

One more social media point was the completion of a flash giveaway on Instagram. It was a quick: “First 10 people to comment about some such or other will receive an ebook copy of Swimming Sideways.” It moved quickly, ten people received the ebook and hopefully they LOVE it! My thinking was to get some advanced copies out into the world to 1) generate excitement, 2) provide an early copy, and 3) perhaps inspire more people to share.

Book Signing

Further planning was done for a book signing at my local Barnes & Noble in Honolulu. With the Hawaii Literacy Project contacted and the event planners at my local B&N on board, the end of April or early May is looking like it might be a real possibility; I will use my newsletter to announce an event like this. When the plan solidifies, it will be a bit like turning full circle because I started this journey way back in November and it became the impetus for the entire rebrand of The Cantos Chronicles books.

Other Bookish Events

I contacted two local book events: A children’s literature conference held in June as well as a Book Festival held in October. I applied to both as a panelist and vendor and will be presenting at the Children’s Literature Conference in June! Still waiting to hear back on the second event, but I will keep you posted. This means I will have an event in April, perhaps one in May, one in June, one in July, am working on October and still waiting to hear back about November.

In addition to those events, I met with a high school librarian to develop a workshop for high school students about creativity. This presentation will happen at the high school where I work in April, but I’ll get to serve in a different capacity outside the realm of classroom teacher and stepping into the role of published author.

Finally, I’m giving away all of the remaining ARCs of the books to my students. They are super excited and don’t care that there are editorial mistakes in the books. Their response was: “Mrs. C, we won’t even know the mistakes are there.” (I don’t know if that is a reflection of my teaching or something else - LOL).


Wrap Up

The road is stretched out ahead of us. Are we going the right direction? I think so. I’m feeling confident, accomplished and filled with hope that where ever the road leads is exactly where I’m supposed to go. Did I have some missed turns -yeah, I think so - but that’s learning, right? With Week Six Independent Author Road Trip Marketing Journey stretched out along the asphalt behind us, we’re on to Week Seven. Only two more blogs until The Cantos Chronicles rerelease, and a final post to wrap up the road trip. I am super interested to know what you’ve noticed over the last six weeks? What has stood out? What kinds of questions are popping up for you? How can any of my experiences help inform you moving forward? Be sure to follow me on IG (@cl.walters) and keep an eye out for questions about this series in a couple of weeks.

Next week: Indie Author Marketing: Update No. 7

Awesome Writer Spotlight: Mary E. Pearson

It’s no secret. I’ve said it before: I do a lot of reading. King said it best, “If you want to be a writer you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There’s no other way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut,” (On Writing). Last year, I read fifty books and have made it through 22 books so far this year. I read, and I’ll read most anything, from romance to suspense, to YA and MG, to fantasy and contemporary, from fiction to nonfiction, reading is my lifeblood. While I like stand alone novels, I’m a sucker for a kickass series, and adore well written fantasy. Needless to say, I’m always on the lookout for a good book. Last year, on Instagram, a noticed a recommendation for The Kiss of Deception by Mary E. Pearson. Off to Amazon I went (because, unfortunately there aren’t any independent book stores near me). Labeled as a Young Adult fantasy with an intriguing blurb and an awesome looking cover, I was immediately intrigued. I took a chance, ordered the book.

Read it. Couldn’t put it down. Loved it so much I ordered the rest of the series before I’d finished the first book. I read the remainder of the series and adored it. Now, I would say Mary E. Pearson is one of my favorite authors.

Dance of Thieves is the first novel in a Duology. Vow of Thieves will be released August 2019.

Dance of Thieves is the first novel in a Duology. Vow of Thieves will be released August 2019.

I’m currently reading the first book in her new duology set in the same world of Remnant called Dance of Thieves. Halfway through and I’m in love with it . It’s one of those books that I know I’m reading it too quickly; I want to slow down to savor it but I can’t because I NEED TO KNOW NOW!

As a writer, here are five reasons I love Pearson’s writing and what I’m learning:

  1. The perfection of economy. Pearson knows when to elaborate and when to keep it simple. She doesn't belabor points that aren’t purposeful to the whole of the narrative. Her world building is stellar. She takes us into the world and guides us through rather than dropping us in where we get lost in the details. She unfolds it bit by bit as though we live there, seeing it through the eyes of the characters who live it day in and day out. It isn’t overpowering, but it blooms like a flower - beautiful.

  2. The chemistry she develops between her protagonists is heart thumping (and wistful sighing by me - the reader). She takes me on that emotional journey drawing out the romantic tension.

  3. Her stories are action packed and page turning. The conflict and related tension is tight which makes me think just one more chapter. Then I’m still reading after three.

  4. Her female characters are strong and defined - they are gorgeously human, independent and adept. Her male characters are strong and defined - they are gorgeously human, independent and adept. Both of them developed into complex people with triumphs but also with complex flaws.

  5. The dialogue! I’m picky about dialogue and one of the biggest reasons I’ll close a book. When dialogue reads like I’m standing amidst two people having a conversation - magic. Pearson does this well. I love the way she uses dialogue to embody the conflict and additional characterization of her rich characters.

I could go on about regarding Pearson’s work, but I think maybe picking up her work and reading it for yourself is a better option.  Are there author’s you adore because of how they write?

I read the Remnant Chronicles last year. So good. Here for Mary E. Pearson’s Amazon Author Page.

I read the Remnant Chronicles last year. So good. Here for Mary E. Pearson’s Amazon Author Page.




YA Author Series - Author Spotlight: M. Wednesday

M. Wednesday

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Three Things About Me and Why I Write:

I’m 25, and as a housewife, I’ve been pursuing my career as a full-time writer for the past three years.

When I’m not writing, I’m drawing, playing guitar, skateboarding, entertaining my dogs, or taking care of my plants, or fish tanks. (I have a lot of plants – they’re all tropical and they hate Connecticut winters.)

I’ve always been a writer.  

My dream since second grade was to be an author, and my husband has helped me pursue that dream to the highest degree. I always felt like words and books were just my element. Since very little, I’d find happiness in daydreams and bringing them to life through spiraled bound notebooks. Simply, I write because the people living in my head need their story told.

The Story . . .

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Moon Reign is my first real book – a full length novel where I’ve thrown my whole soul into it. It revolves around nineteen-year-old Drystan and his dragon, Soren, and how they witness what is said to be known as The Birth of a Unicorn the night prior to Soren’s unwilling farewell. For hundreds of years, unicorns, their magic, and their origins have been condemned to legend throughout the galaxy. Though Drystan has his doubts of this phenomenon, his urgent need to reestablish his father’s depleting health drives his faith towards the healing powers of star magic, the most dynamic force in the universe embedded in unicorns. However, they were not the only ones to have witnessed The Birth. Drystan determinedly leaves home in pursuit of it, and Soren, a kingdom away, endeavors to stop the new people in his life to abandon their obstinate desires in capturing the unicorn for themselves. 

Three Things to Know as You’re Reading…

  1. Drystan's father, Hamond, a wealthy landowner and owner of a dragon breeding business in Hardinggate, is battling failing health.

  2. All the while, Drystan is battling with Hamond's decision of selling four-year-old Soren for an extremely lavish price. Come morning, the Prince of Aledonia, the Elvish kingdom to the North, will have a dragon of his own…

  3. This is their final flight, their last moments together before daybreak disbands true friendship. But, it’s blessed with the light of a phenomenon, one that triggers Drystan to leave home in search of something that could cure his ailing father. 

Where Can You Find Me. . .  

There’s this coffee shop in Middletown, CT called Perkatory. I’m usually there with a turmeric latte… No, I’m playing. I’m active on Instagram @m.wednesday’s_inkwell. Once Moon Reign is published, which all my stars are aligned to hopefully be published by the end of spring/early summer 2019, my debut will be available on all indie author platforms. I’m aiming to have Moon Reign in a few local bookstores in my town that support indie authors, as well.

From . . . Moon Reign . . .

The sun had diminished to a bright orange streak, inky clouds crowning the sky. The cliffs called to them, as they always did. A place of silence and solitude. A place where flight broke free. 

Thundering waves attacked the rocks on a lulling metronome. Drystan’s attention folded to the looming castle behind… Nothing. No signs of movement. No wings rounding elegant towers. A sigh hopped him onto Soren’s back.  

Claws gripped the edge of the land, particles crumbling to hissing whitewash. This is it… this is… our last flight. He gulped down the impaling thought. But, you’re right beside me. And nothing in this moment could separate that. He inhaled the ocean breeze and all the scents carried within. Breathe. All he had to do was breathe and his wings would carry them away into the patient sky. Eyes fluttered open to clustered stars. The sky always understood, always waited. And, with a small confident leap… 

He dove.

Dove them into a time-stopping fall. Dove to abandon all despondent thoughts. The air, the rush, revived and renewed with fleeting euphoria. Oh, how he wished their fall could plummet them out of tomorrow’s sight. 

Parachute wings braced their fall, angling them with the land. Hardinggate’s dimly lit seafront came into view. Piers and ships along a cluttered boardwalk. The curve of lights along the coast. Up… Up, and over the city, wide easy arches combed velvety moonlight. Wings pivoted towards the black sea. There, still miles from the harbor, a triad of ships sailed towards land. 

Playful circles rounded above, swooping closer. 

With each.

Large. 

Bend. 

Coasting alongside their decks, wingtips smacked the waves between paralleled glides. Spray from the bowsprit blew with salty kisses. If anyone on board observed the dragon’s ballet at their port side, he didn’t know. And, if they hadn’t, they were too late. Soren surged upwards in a leisure spiral.  

He leveled on an air current, somewhere between planet and stratosphere. All was quiet, save for the occasional drum of his wings. Beyond, ocean and oxygen melted into abysmal darkness. Above, stars and distant galaxies seemed wet enough to smear, watercolor on canvas. Sceaobyss sliced through the masterpiece with its neon blue rings, Arigae’s tropical neighboring planet. Thin gridlines of starships, strung high past the moon, laced between the two planets. 

Their bond, fastened under the network of stars above, grounded deeper than the ocean below, could not be swayed even with approaching dread. Neither spoke. Words would not express the grief, the fear, that lay just beneath the surface of their bliss. And a satisfying silence capped their flight.  

Drystan released his grip, unbinding his hands from the leather straps, and sat upright. He kicked his shoes from the short stirrups, letting his legs hang casually. Heights inflicted no fear. Gaze meandered to the heavens. 

But, expectation was thwarted. 

He strained his eyes. Refocusing. Blinking. No, it was there. It was definitely there. Parting stars and atmosphere, a wispy pattern of dusty rose in its wake… “Soren, look.” He tapped the dragon’s neck… “Look up there. You see that?” …And Soren craned his eyes. Blackness was seared with a captivating streak of magenta light. A curious head-tilt angled Soren’s wings. “…What is it?” He tightly flattened into Soren’s ascent.   

 “I don’t know.” Hushed interest hooked in his rasp. “It looks like… a comet.” 

 “A comet? No, that’s too fast to be a comet.” Arigae welcomed it, magenta igniting to neon pink as it punctured another layer of sky. 

“Maybe a shooting star? I didn’t think there was such a thing as pink stars, though.”

 Reply came distantly. “… Neither did I.” 

And Soren’s giggle-snort came with delight. “It’s the Birth of a Unicorn.” 

Drystan shook his head at Soren’s reference to the fabricated children’s tales. “Right, that’s exactly what it is.” Pink gaseous trail smudged in its wake. But, the bedtime stories he’d heard growing up… The stories of legend and magic and brave hunters who fought the most powerful unicorns into extinction… They watched neon-rose slowly dissolve into space, following until the East swallowed it up. “Who’s to say they even existed in the first place?”  

 “Well, I think they were real,” Soren muttered. 

 “Horned space horses. Known as the only creatures to possess star magic, whose one desire was to bring love and peace to the galaxy, devoured under man’s blade and never to be seen again. Right.” 

 “Oh, c’mon. Remember Hamond telling us those stories that one winter? We were little, but –”

 “You were little. He was telling you those stories.”          

 “How did it go? Something that they were all stars…?” 

“That unicorns were mere stardust. And, when they died here in our world they would return to the stars, to be reborn in another. Yeah. Something like that. You know how it goes. I’m sure every kid grew up hearing the same stories.” Recalling young nights by the fire with his father, a quilt and socks, a hot mug in chilled hands… “Even if they were real,” he huffed, thwarting memories, “They haven’t existed for hundreds of years. Hunters slaughtered ‘em all. Because, supposedly, they had the most powerful magic in all of creation. S’pose to be more mind-blowing than any magic. Even the Elves’ magic. Or, dragon magic.”   

“I don’t have any magic,” Soren answered flatly. 

“Well,” came a shrugged eye-roll, “Alright, wild dragon magic.”

 Soren pondered over denying words and old fables, all the while admiring where plunging magenta had scored the night. “I think it’s a legend,” he decided, a glimmer in his eye, “And, legends stemmed from truth at one point in time. Don’t you think?” 

A chuckling smile pushed dark hair from the wind. “Whatever you want to believe, Soren. That’s fine with me.” The last wisp of pink dust faded, blurred, and the night claimed its unknown destination.  

 

YA Author Series - Author Spotlight: Alison Aldridge

Alison Aldridge

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Tell us three things about who you are and why you write . . .

I am a natural redhead.  I drink a lot of tea and feel it can solve most problems.  I am a mum to a son, daughter and two pussy cats.

I write because when I don’t write I feel stressed. It is a release for me.  My imagination never switches off so if I don’t let it go somewhere it gets crowded in my head.  Sometimes, to sleep, I have to jot down ideas otherwise they keep me up all night.

Tell us about the story…

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Mariah has a magic-meddling mum, and about to discover she’s a storm summoning mermaid that needs to gain control of her emotion-connected powers ready for the impending battle with the powerful, unstoppable death crows!

What are three things you want us to know as we read?

You most likely think you are an ordinary human being but what if one day your ordinary life was turned upside down.  Everything is changing, you feel vulnerable and start crushing on your best friend. Do you peruse that romance knowing it could destroy your friendship or watch in agony as they get closer to someone else.  To make matters worse, imagine your emotions give life to your dormant supernatural abilities and you have no idea how to control them. This is what is starting to happen to Mariah.

Where can we find this story? Where can we find you?

Link Tree:  https://linktr.ee/redfae

Website:  https://allyaldridge.wordpress.com/

Wattpad: @redfae  https://www.wattpad.com/user/redfae

IG:  @redfae https://www.instagram.com/redfae/

Twitter:  @Fae7 https://twitter.com/Fae7

Goodreads:  Alison Aldridge https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8108229.Alison_Aldridge



From… Jewel of the Sea…

Splinters threatened my skin as my hands grasped the wood and pulled at the panel of cheap fencing to open a triangle at the foot. Once wide enough to fit through, I flattened myself to the ground. Using my elbows and hips I pushed my way past the rich scent of soil that warmed my heart and made me think of my best friend Jace.

Once through on the other side, I dusted the dirt off my knees. Jace's garden looked empty. My shoulder stung.  As I glanced to my left I saw where I'd caught myself on the fence. The scratch left a bright red line and blood smudged across onto my blue vest top. Mum would be mad. I licked my thumb and tried to rub it off.

"Aghhh!" I screamed as my body was shocked in an icy cold shower. I turned around to find Jace standing there with the garden hose in his hand, laughing his head off.

"Jace!" I yelled. We'd spent all summer hanging out, like always.

With a naughty glint in his eye, he lifted the hose and soaked me again.

"Cut that out!" I ran at him to pull the hose out of his hand. He dodged out of my way and ran past me. As I chased after him, round his garden, he kept spraying me over his shoulder. In the beautiful heat of the summer sun, I welcomed the refreshing relief.

Finally, trapping him by the shed, I grabbed the hose. He still wouldn't let go and as we wrestled over it, he kept managing to squirt my face. Using my fingers, I changed the direction of the water and got him back. He made a funny gurgling noise and laughed, shaking the water from his blonde mop of hair.

"That doesn't sound like my plants are getting watered!" Denny yelled from the kitchen window. His mum was younger than mine. She had delicate features and high cheekbones framed by her dark pixie cut.

"Sorry, mum," Jace yelled back. His lip curled on one side as he tried in earnest to appear sincere, "You need to let go so I can continue with my chores."

"No way," I giggled, knowing as soon as I let go, he'd spray me, "We'll just have to do it together."

We then started watering the plants together, both refusing to let go of the hose.

"This is stupid Mariah," His blue eyes twinkled. "It would be much quicker if you just let me do it."

"I know you too well, Jace." I grinned as I argued back. "Why don't you just let me do it?"

"I couldn't shirk my responsibilities like that." Jace countered.

"I really don't mind."  I felt him try to tip the hose up towards me. The water ran up the fence but I managed to stop him. "Cut it out, Jace?"

"Oops!" He said with humour, his eyes alive with merriment.

The afternoon continued with the same upbeat light-heartedness. We sat out in the sun, enjoying ice creams and chilled drinks. Little did I know that it would be one of the last days of carefree fun and games next-door.  It started with Denny arriving at our house without Jace. We always found excuses to hang out together, so it made me feel unsettled that he hadn't come over with her.

She'd come to see mum, but I hovered around the kitchen. Her eyes stared down into a mug of tea, slowly stirring her sugar spoon, her gaze lost in a deep spin of thought.

"Are you going to drink that or spit out what's on your mind?" Mum asked.

Denny sighed, "I was hoping you already knew."

Mum isn't like ordinary mums. She is that woman with dark flowing hair who tells fortunes at spiritual fairs.

I stood up on my tiptoes to reach the cake tin and helped myself to one of the buttercream cupcakes; a product of mum and Denny's Sparkle Cake home bakery business.

"Don't make me dig out my crystal ball..." Mum threatened Denny. Her tone made me think I'd been caught with my sugary delight. For a moment I paused, wincing as I waited for 'don't spoil your dinner' or 'stop eating our profits' but she was too focussed on Denny to notice me.

Denny took a deep breath like she was conjuring up the courage to speak. With an awkward smile on her face, she said, "Dave and I have found somewhere to live together, a home of our own." But her blue eyes shone, brimming with tears.

"That's great news." Mum cheered.

"But..."

"What is it, Denny?"

"We’ll no longer be neighbors and it's all the way over on the other side of town. I feel so conflicted. It's perfect but I'm gonna miss you guys."

Her words were like the icy shower from the hose but without the warm relief of the sun or uplifting sound of Jace's laughter.

"You can't!" I snapped. Jace was my life! I needed him close! I needed him next door! I no longer wanted the bun, it was too sweet and I cast it aside on the counter.

"The cakes?" Denny gasped realizing what I'd done.

Mum threw me a disapproving look, "Mariah, go get the washing off the line!"

I stormed out the kitchen through the back door of our small terrace house, slamming it shut behind me. Without bothering to unpeg the clothes from the line, I began pulling them free and dumping them into the laundry basket. This haphazard manner completed the task too fast and I wasn't ready to go back inside.

I snuck over to the fence looking for the loose panel and pulled... but it wouldn't move. Then, I saw the evil glint of a new nail, hammered in to keep the plank in place; Keeping me out. I kicked at it, hurting my foot.

I sank onto the grass, my back pressed against the fence.  As I gazed up towards Jace's bedroom window my heart felt like a rock, unpleasant and heavy in my chest. I was consumed by a sinking feeling as I realised he really was going and there was nothing I could do about it.  

Then, to make matters worse, the sky beautiful blue sky darkened.  Heavy rapid rain soaked through my t-shirt as I raced inside. I didn't stop in the kitchen with mum and Gwyn, I carried on up to my room.  I dropped onto my bed, laying on my back, staring out the window at the raging storm that felt as if it spoke to my soul, mirroring my anger.



The Writer Hoard

I was sitting at breakfast with my family the other day - family with whom I don’t often get the opportunity to visit since we live so far apart - and they were telling stories. This is one of the joys of being with my family who talk a lot and loudly, laughs often, and enjoy the space we share. Around the table were three aunts, two uncles, and a cousin (also a writer) and my daughter. As usual, the stories were family tales of grandparents and great-grandparents, times when our parents or the cousins were small, and funny anecdotes that we’ve heard again and again but never get old. Eventually, my aunt Susan turns to Mike - my writer cousin - and I and observes, “Nothing is safe with you two around, is it?”

My cousin Mike and I. Check out his website and work (here)

My cousin Mike and I. Check out his website and work (here)

Nope.

Here’s a truth about writers: we are collectors. At first, I think about The Collector in the Marvel Universe, or maybe a librarian with beautifully arranged artifacts and books. These images - for me - conjure a romantic notion of what it might be like as a writer. For example, it might be sitting down at a Parisian Cafe and penning into a leather-bound notebook a gorgeous list of things to remember (ever read A Moveable Feast by Hemingway? If not, your next assignment!). I like this image.

But hoarders of information is probably a more apt description.

How I imagine the info hoard in my mind might look, but I do think there would be labels. Definitely labels.

How I imagine the info hoard in my mind might look, but I do think there would be labels. Definitely labels.

We collect, and collect, and collect stories, facts, tidbits of information, moments, impressions that may or may not be useful. Our minds are filled with boxes and boxes stacked one on top of the other with only enough room for little pathways for our memory to traverse. But ask a writer, and chances are every one of those mind-boxes contains very important memory bits that we are (probably) going to need one day.

Truthfully, those boxes may never get opened, and should probably be gleaned - But dammit! You never know when that little sliver of information might come in handy!

So be forewarned! If you know a writer, chances are, everything is being stored: the who, what, when, where, why, how, impressions and tone. Then we’ll file it in our mind hoard, into a box that may or may not get opened. I guess you’ll just have to read our work to see if you notice any interesting tidbits and similarities, but I promise (what’s that disclaimer after the movies?) this story is fiction, and any similarities between a real person and the fictional work is unintentional.