Marketing, marketing, marketing. Blog hops, chats, guest posts, blog posts, Facebook chats… I’ve come to the decision that marketing is a colossal, gianormous pain in the ass.
This comes from someone who used to work in marketing. The thing is I marketed something else, not my own work.
To me, and I don’t want to sound disparaging, marketing one’s work is like cheerleading in a deep space void. It’s not fun. Face it, too many writers hate marketing. Not that I’d rather suffer a root canal, but to me, marketing your own novel reaches hideous levels of ouchiness. Yeah, that’s not a word. Tough.
In this brave new world of publishing, writers need to shoulder a portion of the marketing burden. Hence the dreaded blog hop, which has nothing to do with sweet fuzzy bunnies.
I’ve done intensive blog hops for my past releases. Did they help? I hope so, although with one book I probably would have had better luck standing on my front steps and yelling about the storyline.
Which is why with my next two releases, I’m pretty much going to remain at my home base, drink, and indulge in acting silly. I have a few events scheduled, but nothing like the twelve days of hell I’ve subjected myself for past releases. My take is everything is in the hands of the beloved readers. If the book doesn’t appeal to them, no amount of shouting and jumping up and down while tossing rainbow glitter and red roses at them will make them want to read it.
Am I jealous of writers who somehow make a book sound like the best thing invented since chocolate chip cookies even before it’s published? Hell yes. Can I make my book sound equally important? Hell no, although if people liked my books as much as chocolate chip cookies, I will not complain.
Consider this my slow start-up.
I order you to like these books as much as chocolate chip cookies.
My first release with MLR Press, Love in the Shadows, will be available perhaps as early as tomorrow, September 26. Oh dear, I scheduled a blog post on October 1st. See, I’m already panicking.
Here’s the pretty cover and the blurb:
Opening an ancient trunk transforms Doctor Rolfe Almersson’s life. When the spiritually-sensitive academic breaks his rules about touching an article sans gloves, fierce love wells at him. The unwrapped parchment reveals a burnt diary written by Magistrate Nels Halverson. The diary documents meeting seventeen-year-old orphan Aindrias Aster in 1701. Nels describes their eventual love affair, along with tragedies and triumphs in infatuated, intimate detail.
Rolfe’s obsession with his find overwhelms him. Reading about the men’s evolving relationship influences Rolfe’s tempestuous relationship with his lover. Will the story’s
romance and tragedy push Rolfe forward into romantic liberation and academic triumph or will it ruin his life?
My late October release, The Gospel According to Cher — due out from Dreamspinner— doesn’t have a pretty cover yet. I expect to see a proof any minute.
I can offer you The Gospel According to Cher’s blurb:
Hindy Nardella, gallery owner and tidy leather diva, isn’t sure about love anymore. His most-recent ex-lover said “sayonara” and headed for Japan despite a week of Hindy begging him to stay. The man before that bid Hindy “namaste” before heading for Nepal seeking salvation. Hindy will accept advice from anywhere, even a tacky Cupid music box which only plays Cher's "Believe," and vivid dreams compelling him to leave NYC and head for the Adirondacks.
Cupid leads Hindy straight to a leather bar in the mountains and an exotic drag queen named Patrice O'Malley. For Patrice, who’s near-perfect beauty belies his lack of confidence, it's lust at first sight, but Hindy has doubts born of his recent run of bad luck in romance. But when Patrice saves Hindy from death by a falling chunk of airplane blue ice, Cupid slams into Hindy's heart, and Hindy begins to believe in miracles again. Dangers and challenges arise, involving, among other things, crazy ex-lovers, rampaging mosquitoes, and a phantom moose. But life together awaits back in NYC, if they can survive, trust in each other, and believe in life after love.
There’s my slow marketing salvo. Now I want a chocolate chip cookie. Naw, I’ll stick with my wine.