I get the sense that Dan was a little angry when he wrote this.
It’s my birthday weekend, so this week’s blog post is a short one. Besides, I’m sure your time at the weekend, or whatever time of the day or week you’re reading this, feels equally important to you as the time I’m going to spend celebrating that I’ve made it to the age of thirty-two does to me.
And that’s kinda the point of this week’s blog post, that of being concise in your writing and not wasting readers’ time.
In my opinion, novels are too long. If you’ve read any of my Jake Hancock comedic mysteries, you might have noticed that they don’t take more than three hours to read. It isn’t because I’m lazy and unable to churn out a hundred-thousand-plus-word story. It’s because I don’t write a lot of description.
If someone came up to me in the street and said they have a story they want me to read, and that it takes between five and six hours to get through, I’d tell that lunatic to double the dosage of whatever medicine he’s been prescribed. My time’s too precious. I wouldn’t sit through a five-hour movie, so why do novelists expect readers to spend five hours reading their book?
I know what you’re thinking: Why don’t I read novellas or short stories? Because I don’t think the lengths of those formats are long enough for most writers to tell a fulfilling story in, unless the writer cuts out all the unnecessary description.
I care about reading three things in novels: 1) What characters say, 2) what they do, and 3) what they’re thinking, as long as what they’re thinking, doing, or saying is entertaining and/or moves the story along.
If they’re saying stuff to another character in a busy city street, and you want to set the scene, then write “a busy city street.” Believe it or not, most people have experienced a busy city street. They can imagine it for themselves. Don’t tell them that there’s a building that’s twenty-two stories high, and what the building’s constructed out of, or what models of cars are whizzing past the character.
Is it important that the buildings they imagine upon reading “busy city street” are only twenty-one stories high, or God forbid, only twenty stories high? Absolutely not. And crazily enough, when I read “busy city street” I imagined there were cars on the road. I’m good like that.
The same can be said for most descriptions in novels in most genres, with a few exceptions. Science fiction and fantasy, where worlds are constructed that we don’t live in already, can have at their descriptions, filling pages with it. Same goes for erotica, where reading descriptions of places and, err, characters is part and parcel of the experience.
For other fiction genres, keep the camera focused on what really matters: what the characters do, say, and think. And give readers back the time they were going to waste.
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A couple years ago I had a subscription to a writing magazine. The name evades me… wait, let me find out by pulling out my desk drawer, where my twelve issues, if it were possible within the confides of a drawer, are collecting dust. Oh yeah, the name of the publication is The Writing Magazine. (No idea why I didn’t remember that.) Anyway, they have this section that’s basically a spotlight on an author, which includes he or she talking about his or her writing day. That section, along with all the other mundane articles contained within its pages, is the reason why I cancelled my subscription. I like writing, sure, and I bore my girlfriend to death about the novel I’m currently writing, but I don’t want to read or hear about anyone else’s process.
I’m a comedy guy, so I inject humor into most if not all of my writing. I’ll never be a big enough player in the publishing world to be featured in The Writing Magazine and get the chance to bore people with how my writing days tend to pan out, but if I did, I’d probably spice it up a little: add in a bit of hyperbole, stretch the truth at times, and add in outright lies to play on clichés and make it somewhat interesting. What I would write is this:
Dan Taylor’s writing day:
I wake up at around 5:17 AM. That’s not entirely true. At 5:17 I’ve pressed the snooze button on my alarm clock three times, so technically I’ve woken up four times at 5:17. First thing I do, even before yawning or putting my scrotum back into a place that seems anatomically correct, is to reach over to the ice dispenser I had installed bedside and fill a tumbler with three…dammit! No, four ice cubes. Most people keep water by the side of their bed, or sex toys, I have a bottle of store-brand whisky. I think it might be scotch, though I’ve never read the label properly.
Dragging my feet as I go, I walk to my balcony, open up the patio door, and go and sit on the deck chair I have lying there. Hanging on the corner of it is a Hawaiian shirt, and lying on it is a pair of vintage Ray Bans. I put those on, sit down, and take out from underneath my deck chair the pack of cigarettes that are protected from light showers and nicotine-addicted seagulls. One cigarette isn’t enough for me, so I smoke two at a time, three sets of two consecutively, as I stare at the apartment building opposite mine. I wonder about what to write as I sip whisky and hope that one of my attractive female neighbors across the street flashes me as she opens up her bedroom window curtains.
About 6:30 I make it to the computer. I’m drunk and haven’t come up with anything decent to write this session. Worse still, I can’t even string together a chain of coherent thoughts or even remember what part of the story I wrote up to the previous day. I sit and stare at my laptop screen for five minutes, probably while smoking another cigarette, and while thinking that the screen looked darker than it did yesterday. Then I remember I still have my Ray Bans on my face. Ten minutes in and without a single word written, I decide I need my muse. I keep her locked up in my walk-in wardrobe, where she enjoys the luxury of my old mattress, a blanket she uses in all seasons, and meals of Cheerios served to her in a dog bowl. She likes to sleep late, but I pull the leash around her neck to wake her. When I ask her to inspire me, she doesn’t have a clue what I’m saying as I’ve driven her insane. After she’s spat on me and threatened to defecate on me, I give up pestering her and decide I’m on my own.
As a consequence of having a shit muse—or maybe I just use her as an excuse; I’m a little hazy on that—I pour myself yet another glass of whisky. The bottle’s empty at this point, so I throw it in the trash, where there are masses of rejection letters. I go back to my computer and start writing. It’s slow going at first, as I can barely see what I’m writing and have piss-poor fine motor functions due to my inebriation, but as soon as I sober up, the words flow onto the screen. I aim to write a thousand words a day, but every time I get to about the nine-hundred mark, I get writer’s block, or get lazy. That, too, I’m a little hazy about.
I generally come away from the office feeling like I should give up writing for a while, maybe even stop completely, until I glance at my bookshelf and see my copy of Fifty Shades of Grey and remember all the decent reviews and ratings it has on Goodreads.
This reminder, along with a power nap and a meal consisting of instant noodles, motivates me for the next writing day. The rest of the day is taken up by doing chores—one of which is to place a new bottle of whisky by my bed—and watching Netflix movies, from which I hope to steal ideas. Intermittently, I spam my books and blog posts on Twitter.
So there you have it, my imaginary process. If I made you laugh, do me a solid and press one of the share buttons below. If I made you cry, from any other reason than laughter, then well, I don’t quite know what to make of that.
My books, which weren’t written using the above process, at least not on weekdays, can be checked out here.
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As an indie author, one of my most time consuming activities when trying to avoid writing is reading reviews for books I’ll never read. This might seem like a futile activity, but I like to think it gives me an idea of what readers are looking for, it allows me to avoid common pitfalls of writing a specific genre, or, failing those, it at least entertains me for a couple minutes. The latter is provided by what the internet seems to be best at doing: exposing me to the nuts out there and the stuff they want everyone to read.
In short, in the place of the three extra books I could’ve written during the time I procrastinate is up-until-now useless knowledge about what makes a reasonable book review.
Book review writing is difficult. I had a brief stint being active on Goodreads, and I wrote a few reviews. They’re shit. And not horseshit, which is almost pleasant when encountered on some country road, but the type of shit you might encounter in some inner-city back alley, which you can’t, to a reasonable degree of scientific accuracy, tell whether it came from man or dog. I totally understand that without the shit reviews out there, customers wouldn’t be able to make pseudo-informed choices about the books they buy. If only qualified people wrote book reviews, I wouldn’t have any, and I wouldn’t even sell the meager number of books I do. But what I don’t understand are reviews that fail on some basic level. Not able to articulate why the story about that wizard gave you a semi but you stated it anyway? That’s cool with me. But what I can’t forgive is writing a review that doesn’t meet the four requirements below. Book Review Writing 101 – shoot for horseshit, not human or dog shit.
When writing a book review, you should ensure:
Your star rating is justified by your review
Along with writing the shit you write, you’ll be required to give the book a star rating. It’s important to make sure that if you, say, give it a three-star rating, you make sure you articulate to a reasonable degree of clarity why you knocked two stars off. I received the below review on Smashwords. It’s my first and only one on there. I appreciate her taking the time to write it. It’s a favorable review, but I can’t help but wonder why it wasn’t at least four stars.
Till the day I die, I’ll always wonder why baseball team A never won the Wold Series, how political party C made such a mess of country B, and why, despite my book being very entertaining, I didn’t inspire this reader to press that sweet five-star button.
2. You finish the book before writing a review
A book isn’t like a plate of food. You can’t take one bite and decide you don’t like it, unless that one bite was riddled with objective errors, like the chef used piss to thin out his sauce instead of water. Confused metaphor aside, if you don’t finish a book you’ve failed to attain the primary qualification for reviewing said book: you didn’t read the frickin’ thing.
When I go to my dentist, she doesn’t lean over, exposing her cleavage a little, and take one look at a molar and give me a clean bill of dental health. She looks at all of my teeth and then decides, based on the cleanliness of each individual tooth, that I do a bang-up job of brushing my teeth. I’m also a pretty decent flosser, but that is neither relevant nor contributes to the metaphor.
3. You don’t assume everyone has the same reading tastes as you
It may sound simple, but people like different stuff. While I’m not a fan of hotdogs, I quite like burgers. Some people watch football on a Saturday afternoon; I prefer to watch movies. The below review can be read in two ways. He could either be defining my target demographic somewhat or he could be saying that, because it features the subject matters stated below, the book is objectively bad. The fact that he gave it two stars seems to suggest the latter. I don’t like posing for pictures with a dog that looks suspiciously like me, but it’s not to say it’s an objectively bad pastime.
4. You know what type of book you’re reviewing
When reviewing a book, it’s important to know what category or subcategory the book falls into. You’d come across as a bit of a doofus if you wrote a review for Sharknado 3: The Third One based on its merits as a serious natural disaster movie. Equally, you’d come across as a doofus, at least in this humble author’s opinion, if you wrote a review of a comic mystery book (aka, bumbling detective) and you reviewed it based on its merits as an example of “noir detective fiction,” which is incidentally a non-existent, paradoxical subcategory, as I pointed out in a previous blog post.
That’s all I’ve got, which is to say it’s Saturday afternoon and I’m going to watch a movie while eating a burger. If you’re on the way to a football game and have a hankering for a hotdog, go fuck yourself. What you like is obviously shittier than what I like.
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Blogging is important for indie authors. It helps keep writing skills sharp in between writing books, gives readers something to read in between reading your books, and it’s cheaper than a shrink. Three weeks ago, I promised myself I’d keep up an at-least-one-post-a-week schedule, and so far I’m on par. In order to achieve this amazing feat of writing a blog post on three consecutive Saturdays, I’ve had to be really methodical in my approach. Behold, my three-week-worn blogging routine: start thinking about blogging topics as I stare into space at work on a Monday morning, continue this throughout the working week, get to Friday and start panicking about having not come up with one workable idea, google for topics on a Saturday morning, and then hit the computer like I am now, about two hours behind schedule, blogging about a topic I’ve come up with at the last minute. This week’s off-the-cuff topic? Advice on what authors can blog about.
Forget the irony and keep on reading. This blog post might get useful yet. Failing that, it’ll at least be mildly entertaining. Like the picture-caption combo below I’ll select and write respectively just before publishing these words.
I like reading author blogs. In fact, there are some authors who write books I don’t enjoy but whose blogs I tune in for every week. (I’m looking at you, Awesome Blogger A.) I’m always on the lookout—and by that I mean I occasionally read the odd blog post that was plugged on Twitter—for a new voice I can entertain myself with while reading blogs at the weekend. To get there, I have to read the first shitty paragraph of around twenty blog posts to strike gold. More often than not—and again by that I mean as often as it takes to validate this point I’m making—I come across a blog post that offers dubious advice to indie authors either about the writing craft or how to promote books, or—holy shit what was the author thinking—a blog post about grammar. What’s wrong with the sharing of dubious advice? Absolutely nothing. The advice you’re about to read is beyond dubious, and the photo below that Future Me will screen capture from an Indie Author Group thread I contributed to is testament to my dedication to offering at best dubious advice, as was pointed out condescendingly by a deceptively smiling fellow indie author.
So you’re cool with reading dubious advice, question-and-answer-format Dan, but why do blog posts about grammar take a shit in your morning cup of joe? I’m glad I asked. Every indie author’s target demographic blog-wise should be other indie authors. The cliché goes that you should write about what you know. Hopefully, that should include writing and marketing books. But that cliché should come with a caveat: write about what you know, as long as it’s not make-the-reader-want-to-blow-his-fucking-brains-out boring. Indie authors writing about grammar for other authors to read is like Monica Lewinsky hosting a seminar for hookers on blowjob technique: for the scantily clad audience, it’s tedious. So grammar is off the table, but what is on there? Let’s find out together, then hopefully next week I won’t have to write a blog entitled What to Blog about as an Author Part Deux.
Tell a funny or amusing anecdote
Something funny happened to you this week? Tell that story. Not all blog posts have to be useful or informative. This week I got out of my seat on the subway to offer it to a pregnant lady. Like an idiot, I made conversation about how many weeks along she was, and received the reply zero. If I could get a thousand words out of that shit, you’d be reading about that for sure. You could make it a metaphor for some part of self-publishing to make it informative, too.
2. Report on self-publishing news
Last year, I was doing my last-minute google for a topic to blog about and came across an article about Amazon suing fake review writers offering their services on Fiver.com. It goes without saying that I put offering dubious advice to fellow indie authors aside for that Saturday and regurgitated that article, but with my twisted comedic slant on it. It’s now become part of my routine for blog-writing preparation to google “Self-publishing news” when searching for topics last minute. That’s the only blog-post-worthy article I’ve come across so far, but give me a break and pretend this advice point is valid nonetheless.
3. Blog about other authors
In love with an author? Thinking about maybe dressing up as him/her and driving your girlfriend and kid off a cliff when he/she doesn’t reply to your creepy letters? Blog about them. Write a case study about their success. Maybe write a satirical mock interview with them, but while making it obvious you’re not quoting that person. (Shit, that last one’s a pretty decent idea.) Not only will you have added one more notch to your blog writing tally, but you might, if you get a decent number of your blog followers buying your books, manage to forge an Amazon cross-selling link with that author, boosting sales. If not, it was fun to dye your hair bleach blonde and pretend like that person was your special friend for a little while.
4. Offer dubious advice to other indie authors about writing or promoting books
Promised yourself you’ll keep up a once-a-week blogging schedule and struggling to keep it going? Enjoy irony? Give advice on what authors should blog about. It worked for me this week.
6. Write about something topical
Remember when everybody was watching How to Make a Murderer? There was a huge debate raging online about whether he was guilty or not. In the hope that I could write a viral blog post, I was all over that like pastrami on rye. Writing viral blog posts is like surfing: you see that swell developing and you jump up on your board at the opportune time and hope you don’t fall off and fuck up your dental work on a rock. (I have no idea what the dental-work part of that metaphor represents.) My blog post didn’t go viral, but I was saved from offering questionable advice for one week.
I’ve just reached the thousand-word mark, and six suggestions for blog post topics seems like as a good a number as any. With those dubious chicken nuggets of wisdom both written and read, I’ll say goodbye for this week.
If the blog post made you laugh out loud at least three times, apologize to that asshole you’re sitting next to on the bus who’s looking at you like laughing in public is what crazy people do. But most importantly—who am I kidding, I don’t care about that asshole—press one of the share buttons below to help grow the readership of this blog.
My permanently free first-in-the-series comedic mystery novel, which also features hookers and an arrogant asshole offering dubious advice, can be checked out here.
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I started writing this blog for one reason: to sell my fiction books. I may just suck at blogging, or I might not have been doing it for long enough, or it might be because I write wonky lists like this too often, but this blog does not sell any books. It doesn’t even get a significant number of downloads for my perma-free book. I’ve thought of quitting and putting the time I take to write, edit, and publish this blog back into my fiction writing, but I kinda like doing it. From now on I’m going to write one a week. Even if the end result is shitty, like I fear this one might be. But because I have an iPad and an ass and way too much time on a Saturday morning, I’m going to need greater motivation than the half-assed promise I just made to myself to keep up an intense once-a-week schedule. I’m going to need to go full-ass. Fuck that, I’m going to need to go five asses. Just in case that wasn’t clear, which I’d totally understand, I’m going to need five reasons to keep my author blog updates more regular than my beard-trimming schedule.
To keep my writing sharp
It doesn’t take me long to write the first draft of a novel. About six weeks, assuming I don’t get ill or go on vacation. This year I figure I’ll write four. So this year, I’ll spend only twenty weeks actually writing—if I don’t keep this blog going—and the rest of the time making book covers, writing blurbs, editing, formatting, and publishing the finished products on Amazon and Smashwords. That’s a tiny amount of time doing what I love and a shit-ton of time doing stuff that makes me want to blow my fucking brains out. Not only is that a little depressing, but during those weeks when I’m not writing comedy or the stupid exciting stuff that goes in between it all, I’m going to get seriously rusty. Just take a second to think about the drivel you’ve just read. It’s definitely a product of my being rustier than…well, something that’s typically rusty, and definitely not a product of my having always sucked. So there’s the first reason, keeping those comedy writing muscles strong and ready for action for when I write shit I expect people to actually pay for.
2) Something to do instead of drinking
One of my hobbies, up until fairly recently…scrap that, pretty much my only hobby up until fairly recently was getting drunk and watching shitty horror movies. I’m now into my thirties and want to be able to look back on this period as a time when I went hell for leather and tried to achieve everything I wanted to achieve with my life. Failing the achievement bit, I want to be able to look back and think that I was at least a reasonably functioning member of society, with friends, and healthy hobbies, and Saturday mornings that weren’t spent scrolling through my Facebook feed as I built up the motivation to reach out my hand and put the glass of water I poured for myself ten minutes ago to my dry lips. One of the distractions that I’m going to use keep myself from relapsing back into that wonderful time of potato chips, craft beers, and movies that were so bad they were good is this blog. Sure, writing it will pale in comparison to that feeling of cracking open that first beer, knowing there are eight more in the refrigerator, but it’ll keep me out of trouble. If you don’t have a drinking problem and want to make this point applicable to you, swap something you do instead of drinking that’s damaging such as eating processed foods or whatever.
3) It’s cheaper than a therapist
I try to keep this thing useful or entertaining for the small readership it has, which comprises mostly of fellow indie authors. When I don’t have dubious advice to offer them, I at least try to make the blog posts funny. But sometimes it’s good to just let loose and go full narcissist and write about shit that pisses me off, to expunge it from my mind, such as when I critiqued some of the really bad reviews I’ve received for my comedy mystery book. I don’t know whether that’s an accurate description of what people do when they go to see a shrink—now that I’ve thought about it, it definitely isn’t—but I figure I’ll use this blog to give my girlfriend a rest from my tirades and expose you guys to them instead. You’re welcome, there’s no need to say thanks. You guys are now my shrink, which means you’ll listen and probably not say anything afterwards or interact with me in any way. You’ll probably just nod, feeling a little sorry for me. Now that sounds like an accurate description of what a shrink does. And better still, you won’t want me to pay out my ass for it afterwards.
4) One day a shit-ton of people might read these words
I don’t fully understand it, nor am I willing to spend a significant time researching the subject, but the more you blog, the more chance you have of your blog turning up in search engine results. Sure, if you’ve got a decent number of followers on a social media platform, you can get fairly decent traffic to your blog by spamming. But it’ll never be enough to significantly impact on book sales. You have to turn up on the first couple pages of search engine results for that, which means producing a shitload of content. In a couple years’ time, assuming I’ve kept my promise of not drinking and writing these things every week, this blog could be like a gigantic cyberspace glacier, slowly moving week after week, picking up shitloads of debris and dirt as it goes. You’ve probably just worked out, if you’re a follower of this blog or have read my books, that in that metaphor you were dirt or debris, which isn’t how I imagined thanking you for reading. How’s that shrink gig working out for you? My apologies.
5) One day I’ll have a record of how I made it
I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here, but four is a shit number when it comes to offering reasons to do something in a blog format. If the meager sales I get turn around in the future and make me financially independent, I’ll be able to look back on this blog as a historical record of how I got there. It’ll be like when my grandparents tell stories of hardship during World War Two, only way less significant and way whinier. Now if that isn’t a decent reason to keep an author blog, then I don’t know what is.
So there you have it.
My hour’s up. It’s time for me to get up from your leather sofa I’ve been lying on and for you to get up off your chair you’ve been sitting ramrod straight in and for us to ride out that awkward moment when we don’t know whether we should shake hands, hug, or just quietly nod at each other after I’ve told personal stuff to you and probably cried a little. Is the same time next week good for you? Excellent.
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This week a reader was pissed after reading my perma-free book. But this isn’t the first time. What made this situation unique was, he sent me an email, stating he’d enjoyed it, but that he wouldn’t be reading the next one in the series. Why? Because I ended the book with a cliffhanger. He wrote that because I was so desperate for readers to buy the next book, he wasn’t going to play ball. He also gave me some condescending advice about how I’ll put readers off with this devious writing strategy. Before I wrote the ending, I was well aware of writers using the old ending-a-perma-free-book-with-a-cliffhanger strategy to sell the next book in a series, and have seen hateful reviews for perma-free books that ended with a cliffhanger. I had also considered how readers would react to my ending, so none of what he wrote was news to me.
I emailed back, writing that there are two types of cliffhanger. The first type leaves the reader without the conclusion to the story’s main story thread or mystery, with the conclusion in the next paid-for book. This is obviously uncool. The second type is ending a series book with the inciting incident for the next book in the series, after concluding the main story thread or mystery of the first book, like in an episode of Quantum Leap—I even gave a nod to that show by finishing with the main character’s catchphrase: “Oh, boy.” I think endings like that are fair, and, if done right, exciting, and I don’t remember people going apeshit at the end of each episode of Quantum. I told the guy the type I’d used was the latter, and thanked him for reading, anyway, etc. He never got back to me. And the ninety-nine cents he would’ve paid for my next book had I not been “desperate” for him to read it has me writing this blog post on a street corner, having not been able to pay my mortgage this month. I’m also starving, and for the life of me I can’t find a piece of cardboard to scrawl on to inform passersby of my dire straits.
I was going to make this week’s blog post about differentiating between the two types of cliffhanger, and making a case for why I think they’re a good thing, citing examples in television. But I just kind of did that in—what?—three hundred words, so there’s that idea out of the window. Then it occurred to me that I haven’t written a blog post that mines the comedy from a situation in a little while, and that I’m supposed to be a comedy writer, God damn it. So without further ado, I reveal to you, three ways to sell the next book in your series that are less offensive than using a cliffhanger.
Tell the Reader the Next Book in the Series Contains the Secret of Life
You’ve just finished reading a page-turner, and it turned out it was the priest whodunit, not the chicken farmer, or the icecream man, and definitely not the mistress. It was a solid, mildly entertaining read. It didn’t make you laugh, and the writer could’ve found ways of putting humor into their ridiculous but semi-serious mystery work, but it was a decent read nonetheless. With only five minutes to go of your train ride to work, you figure there’s no point starting the next book on your Kindle, so you start scrolling through the back matter. You read about the author, and he proclaims his undying love of the mystery genre, and tells some silly story about what inspired him to write mediocre fiction. After that, you come to the plug for the next book, and HOLY SHIT!, it contains the freakin’ secret of life. You rush to work to get connected to your workplace’s shitty WIFI, download the book, and read it over the next week or so. When you get to the end, you find out it was just another shitty story about an alcoholic detective solving a ridiculous murder mystery, padded out with an unconvincing love-interest subplot. Huh. No secret of life, which the author promised. It could’ve been worse, at least this God-awful book didn’t end with a cliffhanger. But wait…the next book promises it’s the only book on the planet that can be seen from space. Holy freakin’ cow! You’re not sure how that’s possible, with it being not composed of matter, but still. Space!
Tell the Reader the Next Book in the Series Will Somehow Feed the Third World
Despite your sales ranking revealing a different a story, tell the reader that if they buy your next book it has the potential to fund the feeding of the Third World, after it’s helped you pay for your wife’s breast augmentation surgery. If they just cough up their ninety-nine cents, celebrities having pictures taken with African infants with distended abdomens will become a thing of the past, and publicists will have to go back to the drawing board when they’re client’s clothing line isn’t selling as well as they’d hoped.
3. Tell Readers the Next Book in the Series Will Get Them Laid
Feel free to copy and paste the following text into the back matter of your book, changing details where necessary:
Thanks for taking the time to read my high fantasy story about a wizard who comes up with a spell every time he’s caught in a situation he seemingly can’t possibly escape from. If you could take a few minutes to leave a review for this book, it would put a really stupid, really big grin on my face. But first, I just want to take a second to tell you what inspired me to write this book. As you know from my “About the Author” section previous, for a long time, probably since I’ve been potty trained, I have held within my heart a great passion to write high fantasy. But what I’ve also held…in a different place than my heart, is the need to get laid. Probably like you, I didn’t get to bang the redhead with the big tits in my math class, and my love life since highschool has been equally underwhelming. But, like the wizard in this book, I too managed to make the love interest in my life inexplicably sleep with me. I took the time and effort to write the secret to my success into the next book in this series. All you’ve got to do is buy it. Click on this link to find out the secret and unleash your inner happiness.
So there you have it. Three great marketing tricks.
But seriously, thinking of writing a cliffhanger? Think again, if it’s the first kind. As always, if you laughed out loud at least three times, please take a second to share this post with the buttons below. It’ll get you laid, probably.
In next week’s blog post, I’ll reveal the one writing hack that’s guaranteed to make you sell more books than Lee Child, Jo Nesbø, and J. K. Rowling combined.
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I’ve been a bit down about indie publishing of late. After enjoying a little success, holding the number-one spot in Amazon’s comedy category for almost a week, sales have since plummeted. I’ve also been getting my first really bad reviews. In order to jumpstart sales again, I’ve been trying every marketing strategy I could lay my greedy eyes on, but with little success. Am I about to give up? Am I resigned to talking about publishing like a bitter wannabe piano player with stubby fingers talks about his disastrous first piano recital? Hell no. It’s time to get tough.
I’m not going to be overnight success. It’s not written in the stars, or at least it’s not written in my books, which are tailored to a certain readers’ taste. I might not be successful at all, but I’m not going to let that kind of negative thinking stop me from trying my damn hardest. I figure it’s going to take time, if it’s going to happen. The last couple days I’ve been putting together a plan to earn a decent living as a writer. In the absence of a comedy mother lode to mine this week for my blog, I’m going to share that plan with you.
Perma-Free Book Downloaded by the Masses
Permanently free books make some indie authors angry. They whine and moan about free art and the future of publishing and other authors undercutting them, ad nauseam. I think that as long authors don’t make every book in their series free, it’s cool. Besides, you didn’t pay to read these words. Readers are rightfully hesitant about trying out new authors, and I think giving a little taste for free to whet their appetite is a sound strategy for overcoming that hesitancy. Besides, if it works for crack dealers—at least in old wives’ tales—then it could work for me. As long as the writing is up to scratch, which for me means as funny as balls and as exciting as a cocktail party hosted by Bill Cosby.
A free book to a browser is a no-brainer, but will they fly off digital shelves all by themselves? Absolutely not. But I’m pretty well schooled in giving away books already. When I ran my free Kindle book promotion, I managed to giveaway a shade under ten thousand books by running a Freebooksy ad, which is basically paying an exorbitant amount of money to some guys who’ll beg the members of their huge mailing list to download your book. If that fails, I’ll pay even more to get a BookBub ad and hope I get accepted. If I don’t, I’ll Andy Dufresne their asses until they submit. And hey presto, new readers.
2. Build My Own Mailing List
How will I gain the loyalty of those readers, apart from by writing kickass books? By getting them to sign up for my mailing list. I have a few readers on there now, as a result of selling a fair few books, but in order to encourage readers to sign up, I’m offering a discount on new releases the first week they’re published. This way, readers will be more inclined to hand over their already spammed-the-shit-out-of email addresses to me, and I’ll be able to encourage readers to buy my new book during that first week, which will hopefully trick Amazon’s algorithm into thinking I write decent book-type books and expose my books to masses of unsuspecting new readers. Most of these will hate my books and leave bad reviews, but some will like my shit and hopefully…
3. Get Likes for My Facebook Page
Okay, so the whole ellipsis-leading-onto-the-next-section thing didn’t exactly work there. But you know what I meant. Not everyone signs up for mailing lists, but I’m struggling to think of anyone I know who doesn’t use Facebook. Apart from my dad. And my grandparents. And probably my doctor, now that I think about it. But whatever. Another way I’m going to encourage loyalty from my readers is by directing them to my Facebook page. I have a little message in the front and back matter of my books, thanking readers for reading, which I’m genuine about, and which directs readers who like my shit to also like my Facebook page. This has been working okay. I’ll give myself a C-minus for effort. In order to encourage it further, I’ve put in an “About the Author” section in the back matter of my books. I was a little hesitant to do so, because I’d feel more narcissistic than Prince after a line or three of cocaine, but I figure that if I can get readers interested in me after they’ve discovered they like the shit I write, then I can get more people to want to form a quirky-algorithm-dictated digital-age bond with me. I’m also going to start writing more jokes on Twitter. I figure I’ll publish the setup on my Twitter feed, and then have an ellipsis leading to a link for the entirety of the joke, which will be on my Facebook page. This way, more people will land on my page, and hopefully more people will like it, and more people will read my announcements for freshly released books, feeding into my sales-all-in-one-week strategy mentioned above.
But all this is pointless, if I don’t…
4. Write More Freakin’ Books
It made sense that time. I’m getting the hang of this. I currently have three books in my comedy mystery series published. The fourth one is with my editor, and the fifth I’m writing the first draft of. As an indie author, I can’t get away with publishing once a year. I figure I need to write four or five novels a year to stay relevant. Last year I managed four, minus the edits of the fourth one from my editor. After I’m finished with the fifth, I’ll probably start writing a new series to keep things fresh. I’m thinking maybe a series about a hostage negotiator who has a harder time negotiating his family life than talking down crazed criminals. Sounds like an idea for a bad ‘90s sitcom, but whatever.
And last, and definitely least, I’m going to…
5. Regrow My Mustache
I shaved off my lip weasel before Christmas. I haven’t been the same writer since. It seems that when left unclipped, my upper-lip hair follicles are the source of whatever mystical shit inspires me to write semi-decent mystery thrillers with a shit-ton of borderline misogynistic jokes. My days of trimming are over, and the days of me blow drying and hair spraying my mustache hairs into a macho style have just begun…again.
Thanks for reading. If you like what you read here, check me out on my Facebook page and like it.
My rage-inducing perma-free book can be checked out here. If you like that one, I’ll then expect you to pay for subsequent instalments, like a drug dealer who lives exclusively in our moms’ nightmares.