As you know I've been moving. Well, I have moved, now I'm cleaning and painting, which leaves little time for writing.
One thing I've found through this adventure is all my old writing. Yes, all of it. Starting way back from 1975. Yes, I have been writing for that long. Not that it is any good mind you, but still, it counts toward my million words doesn't it.
When I lived at the beach I moved every six months so everything would have to be neatly tucked away into boxes and bins. Now, that I finally have a house that's big enough to accomodate my entire life, I've been rearranging said life into compartments. I never really knew how organized I actually am. I always thought I was in chaos, but come to find out I'm not.
I have all my high school stuff in one box, my college in another, my Nevada life, my contemporary romances, and then my historicals all neatly categorized in folders now, with little tabs, color coded and everything.
As I was sorting I read a few pages here and there. Not really good. I had no idea what I was doing back then. BUT I have to say, what I did like, and what I feel I am really good at is dialogue.
Yeah, I got a thing for verbal human interaction. So that was good to find out. I mean, I kind of knew it, but now I know it. You know.
Anyway, the old adage "practice makes perfect" is pretty spot on I think.
Tell me -- what are you good at?
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Marketing & Promotion
Well, for those of you who follow me here, and I do appreciate you, this blog is mostly about my writing. Yes, unfortunately this blog is all about me. If you want to see things about you, you have to go to Piedmont Writer.
In the course of the last month, I've been moving. Because of where we lived, where I live now, and that my parents own both the houses, I've been lucky enough to move at my leisure. Well, the first few weeks were furious that I had a man around to help me move the big furniture. Now that he's gone, I've been struggling to get the old house into some semblance of clean so we can market it and sell it.
My mother feels that we should just leave it the way it is. Broken toilet downstairs (that has been broken since we moved in) overgrown yard, mismatched cabinets in the kitchen. Sell it for what we can get.
I, on the other hand, want to fix all the gaffs, repaint, fix the toilet downstairs and gut the bathroom upstairs to bring it to the 21st century. I want to make the house shiny new so we can sell it for a little bit more than what we paid for it. Sounds sensible to me. And if not get a little more, then sell it for what they originally bought it for so they don't lose money.
My mother also feels she wants to sell the house For Sale By Owner. I do not. I gave her the arguments that although she'll save money by not hiring a real estate agent, she'll also have to be at the beck and call of people who want to look at the house. Not to mention, find ways to market it, etc. and all the other things real estate agents do. Pictures, MLS listings, showings, print-outs. (And that will fall to me, which I do not want to do.)
There's been a slew of discussion going on for the last few weeks, and now that she's gone on vacation, I have settled down into the routine of cleaning and moving the last of the stuff out. Next week, I'm hoping to begin painting.
And all of this brings me to the idea of what we need to do to market our books. I just released REMEMBERING YOU for the third time. New cover, new name, new edits, new chapter titles. Shiny shiny shiny.
I'm not what is known as an aggressive marketer. I prefer to do things quietly. For my Regency romances I think I only mentioned it on my blogs once, and then Tweeted once and let it go. I may have done one or two interviews, one or two guest posts.
With REMEMBERING YOU, I had nothing set up, (because quite honestly I didn't know I was going to release it, was a spur of the moment decision). I decided to offer it for free on Amazon, put a barrage of hourly Tweets up, and did a post on Monday on the Piedmont Writer blog. I guess you could say that was somewhat quiet.
I did get to the #1 rankings on the Kindle Free list, so that was nice. I didn't give away as many books as I thought I might, but enough to keep me hovering at the 1 and 2 spot for two days. But because Amazon changed their algorithms again, I've lost all my ranking. It seeems one needs reviews to keep the rankings. (Anyone out there have a review handy for me?)
Anyway, what this post all boils down to is that, with the new self-publishing model, we can make changes to our books as we see fit. We don't need to keep what is old and broken and not working anymore. We have the option to go back in and change what needs changing -- to make it shiny and new. We have the option to have an "open house" instead of trying to show one person at a time. We have the option to go all out on a marketing frenzy or just quietly promote and hope for the best.
I suppose it depends on who you are and what you want from your book.
In the course of the last month, I've been moving. Because of where we lived, where I live now, and that my parents own both the houses, I've been lucky enough to move at my leisure. Well, the first few weeks were furious that I had a man around to help me move the big furniture. Now that he's gone, I've been struggling to get the old house into some semblance of clean so we can market it and sell it.
My mother feels that we should just leave it the way it is. Broken toilet downstairs (that has been broken since we moved in) overgrown yard, mismatched cabinets in the kitchen. Sell it for what we can get.
I, on the other hand, want to fix all the gaffs, repaint, fix the toilet downstairs and gut the bathroom upstairs to bring it to the 21st century. I want to make the house shiny new so we can sell it for a little bit more than what we paid for it. Sounds sensible to me. And if not get a little more, then sell it for what they originally bought it for so they don't lose money.
My mother also feels she wants to sell the house For Sale By Owner. I do not. I gave her the arguments that although she'll save money by not hiring a real estate agent, she'll also have to be at the beck and call of people who want to look at the house. Not to mention, find ways to market it, etc. and all the other things real estate agents do. Pictures, MLS listings, showings, print-outs. (And that will fall to me, which I do not want to do.)
There's been a slew of discussion going on for the last few weeks, and now that she's gone on vacation, I have settled down into the routine of cleaning and moving the last of the stuff out. Next week, I'm hoping to begin painting.
And all of this brings me to the idea of what we need to do to market our books. I just released REMEMBERING YOU for the third time. New cover, new name, new edits, new chapter titles. Shiny shiny shiny.
I'm not what is known as an aggressive marketer. I prefer to do things quietly. For my Regency romances I think I only mentioned it on my blogs once, and then Tweeted once and let it go. I may have done one or two interviews, one or two guest posts.
With REMEMBERING YOU, I had nothing set up, (because quite honestly I didn't know I was going to release it, was a spur of the moment decision). I decided to offer it for free on Amazon, put a barrage of hourly Tweets up, and did a post on Monday on the Piedmont Writer blog. I guess you could say that was somewhat quiet.
I did get to the #1 rankings on the Kindle Free list, so that was nice. I didn't give away as many books as I thought I might, but enough to keep me hovering at the 1 and 2 spot for two days. But because Amazon changed their algorithms again, I've lost all my ranking. It seeems one needs reviews to keep the rankings. (Anyone out there have a review handy for me?)
Anyway, what this post all boils down to is that, with the new self-publishing model, we can make changes to our books as we see fit. We don't need to keep what is old and broken and not working anymore. We have the option to go back in and change what needs changing -- to make it shiny and new. We have the option to have an "open house" instead of trying to show one person at a time. We have the option to go all out on a marketing frenzy or just quietly promote and hope for the best.
I suppose it depends on who you are and what you want from your book.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Guess What I Found?
Guess what I found buried in the back of the basement closet while I was moving? My college writing!
Oh yes, I shrieked with joy as I pulled the boxes out of the smelly dampness. I crowed with triumph as I loaded them into the car to take to the new house, for I thought I would find some gems I could fiddle around with.
Dismay hit me full in the face, however, as I removed the lids from the containers and reread some of these "diamonds in the rough". Out of the four boxes, out of the countless file folders, out of the hundreds, perhaps thousands of pages, I found only one short story that held any merit.
One. Short. Story.
I thought I was a literary genius in college. I thought all these years I would be able to just open the boxes and find the next Pulitzer Prize. I thought, well, never mind what I thought.
The cold hard truth stings when it slaps you in the face.
However, at least I can say with all honesty, I'm a better writer now. That helps ease the crushing blow somewhat. The really funny thing is, all of it, yes, ALL of those writings, those stories, are written in first person POV, which really blew my mind. I don't write in first person. EVER. I get blocked. Wicked blocked. So what's up with that I wonder?
Tell me, have you ever found something you wrote years ago? Was it any good? What did you do with it?
Oh yes, I shrieked with joy as I pulled the boxes out of the smelly dampness. I crowed with triumph as I loaded them into the car to take to the new house, for I thought I would find some gems I could fiddle around with.
Dismay hit me full in the face, however, as I removed the lids from the containers and reread some of these "diamonds in the rough". Out of the four boxes, out of the countless file folders, out of the hundreds, perhaps thousands of pages, I found only one short story that held any merit.
One. Short. Story.
I thought I was a literary genius in college. I thought all these years I would be able to just open the boxes and find the next Pulitzer Prize. I thought, well, never mind what I thought.
The cold hard truth stings when it slaps you in the face.
However, at least I can say with all honesty, I'm a better writer now. That helps ease the crushing blow somewhat. The really funny thing is, all of it, yes, ALL of those writings, those stories, are written in first person POV, which really blew my mind. I don't write in first person. EVER. I get blocked. Wicked blocked. So what's up with that I wonder?
Tell me, have you ever found something you wrote years ago? Was it any good? What did you do with it?
Thursday, June 21, 2012
An Itch I Can't Scratch
Well, it's been a week since I started moving. We've gotten just about 90% of the big stuff; still have the kitchen and office to do, but it's just so hot here now, I can't bear it one more second. Two more truck loads ought to do it with the last of the cumbersome furniture, and I'll make two or three small trips in the car every day until I'm done.
I have internet again, Yay! It wasn't as painful or as long to be out of it as I anticipated. I thought for sure 4-5 days, but the phone man came yesterday and set me up so I grabbed my computer last night and here I am.
My office is downstairs once again under the windows. Alas, my coveted office space on the other side of the house didn't work out as I expected. It is now a "holding" room for all the yard sale things and other stuff I just can't figure out what to do with for now.
However, in the office downstairs I have a small built in book shelf with a desk and drawer, my own desk, and then my long table. I'm looking forward to setting everything up. My windows overlook a panoramic view of treetops this time, instead of the fields. Very green, and somewhat boring, but it definitely beats a wall of concrete.
I haven't written a thing except an historical article (to be posted on the Romantic Friday Writer's Blog on Monday June 25 -- I'm their first guest post -- Yay) and let me tell you I'm itching to get started on something new. Or perhaps get into something and revise the snot out of it.
But my muse won't let me. He keeps saying, "NO". Very loudly and very clearly. "YOU MUST WAIT." I suppose I need to listen. He's usually always right.
I think it's because he knows I'm fragmented. I've half my stuff at the other house, half here, walking around both houses saying to myself, "Okay, what do I do next?" I mean, there are 10,000 things that need my attention, I really shouldn't sit down and waste my time at the computer if I won't be able to concentrate -- right?
Oh, but let me tell you, what great lines I've come up with over the last week. Opening lines, hooks, little bits of dialogue, dynamic narrative. It's killing me to not write them down. (It's a mad scramble here to find to a pen, never mind a piece of paper). I'm hoping I remember even three of them when I finally do sit down.
Anyway, that's where I am this week. Hopefully, next week, I'll be in a much better space in my head.
I have internet again, Yay! It wasn't as painful or as long to be out of it as I anticipated. I thought for sure 4-5 days, but the phone man came yesterday and set me up so I grabbed my computer last night and here I am.
My office is downstairs once again under the windows. Alas, my coveted office space on the other side of the house didn't work out as I expected. It is now a "holding" room for all the yard sale things and other stuff I just can't figure out what to do with for now.
However, in the office downstairs I have a small built in book shelf with a desk and drawer, my own desk, and then my long table. I'm looking forward to setting everything up. My windows overlook a panoramic view of treetops this time, instead of the fields. Very green, and somewhat boring, but it definitely beats a wall of concrete.
I haven't written a thing except an historical article (to be posted on the Romantic Friday Writer's Blog on Monday June 25 -- I'm their first guest post -- Yay) and let me tell you I'm itching to get started on something new. Or perhaps get into something and revise the snot out of it.
I think it's because he knows I'm fragmented. I've half my stuff at the other house, half here, walking around both houses saying to myself, "Okay, what do I do next?" I mean, there are 10,000 things that need my attention, I really shouldn't sit down and waste my time at the computer if I won't be able to concentrate -- right?
Oh, but let me tell you, what great lines I've come up with over the last week. Opening lines, hooks, little bits of dialogue, dynamic narrative. It's killing me to not write them down. (It's a mad scramble here to find to a pen, never mind a piece of paper). I'm hoping I remember even three of them when I finally do sit down.
Anyway, that's where I am this week. Hopefully, next week, I'll be in a much better space in my head.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The Move
Geez, you would think now that I've begun a brand new blog I would keep on top of posting. I did say I would post only on Thursday, and here it is, Thursday.
I apologize. But I've been busy this morning. I've been up since six, worked on an article for RFW, was supposed to work on the end pages for RY to add in the first chapter of SECRETS ON THE BEACH, but my back started to hurt from this durn chair. I decided to go upstairs and start packing instead.
We're moving. Tomorrow. Or starting to move, tommorow. I hate moving. I'm a Taurus and hate change. BUT, the house we're moving to has 1800 more square feet. I get my own office, two fireplaces, a real living room, a real dining room and Monster has her own playroom. YAY! No more sharing between us.
The cat knows something is going on and has been twitching her tail all day. The dogs are following me from room to room, outside with the laundry, back inside. I can hear their little yips, "Where are you going now? What are you doing with those boxes? Are we coming too?"
Truthfully, when we first moved down here to NC, I thought this was going to be our, if not "forever" home, our home until at least Monster graduated from high school. But the house a door down from my parents became available so it seemed the best thing to do. They're getting older, my father's been in and out of illness for the last couple of years, my mother is slowing down, her eyesight is getting worse. It's just the right thing to do.
So, amidst the boxes and dust, newspapers and bubble wrap, my life is changing again. It's funny that five and a half years ago I didn't know what the future held. Had no clue. Was living day to day waiting for something to happen to me. And now here I am, a writer, with a paycheck, moving upward and forward.
Truthfully, I won't miss this house. I'll miss the soybean fields I stare out at from my office windows. I'll miss the deer who come to feed every morning . I'll miss the trees in the back yard because they support my three clothes lines. But I won't miss the house. It wasn't the right house for me and Monster. My father always said that. But it's served its purpose.
I do not know if I'll have the computer up and running or not next week. At this point it's anyone's guess. I have to have phone lines set up in the office at the new house. Let's pray for an easy peasy lemon squeazy installation.
Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you when I do.
Image from confidentwriting.com
We're moving. Tomorrow. Or starting to move, tommorow. I hate moving. I'm a Taurus and hate change. BUT, the house we're moving to has 1800 more square feet. I get my own office, two fireplaces, a real living room, a real dining room and Monster has her own playroom. YAY! No more sharing between us.
The cat knows something is going on and has been twitching her tail all day. The dogs are following me from room to room, outside with the laundry, back inside. I can hear their little yips, "Where are you going now? What are you doing with those boxes? Are we coming too?"
Truthfully, when we first moved down here to NC, I thought this was going to be our, if not "forever" home, our home until at least Monster graduated from high school. But the house a door down from my parents became available so it seemed the best thing to do. They're getting older, my father's been in and out of illness for the last couple of years, my mother is slowing down, her eyesight is getting worse. It's just the right thing to do.
So, amidst the boxes and dust, newspapers and bubble wrap, my life is changing again. It's funny that five and a half years ago I didn't know what the future held. Had no clue. Was living day to day waiting for something to happen to me. And now here I am, a writer, with a paycheck, moving upward and forward.
Truthfully, I won't miss this house. I'll miss the soybean fields I stare out at from my office windows. I'll miss the deer who come to feed every morning . I'll miss the trees in the back yard because they support my three clothes lines. But I won't miss the house. It wasn't the right house for me and Monster. My father always said that. But it's served its purpose.
I do not know if I'll have the computer up and running or not next week. At this point it's anyone's guess. I have to have phone lines set up in the office at the new house. Let's pray for an easy peasy lemon squeazy installation.
Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you when I do.
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