Are you a ‘Secret Identity’ Author?

Do announce the existence of your writing self to the world?  Do you tell all and sundry that you are proud to call yourself writer, or author?  Or do you hide your writing-ness under a bushel, hoping that sales will continue regardless of your introversion?

Despite being a quiet sort of soul, I tell everyone what (little so far) I’ve achieved.

Many years ago, when I was working within the world of MLM (multi-level marketing), I was taught to declare my presence to everyone with whom I conversed – it could only boost sales.

Now, as an author, I had to decide what was better – to hide in a corner and just hope that my books would quietly sell, or to promote them to everyone I met at the risk of being thought a pest.

Back in November 2012, I produced a healthy number of bookmarks using nothing more than a colour printer, a laminator and a cheap guillotine.  The result was a useful ‘hand-out’ version of Ravven’s cover artwork. 

Whenever I met someone new, I would simply ask ‘Do you read much?’  If the answer was yes, then I would pass out one, sometimes two bookmarks to promote my work.  More often than not, the recipients were happy just to receive something for free.  In most cases, they were truly interested and asked all about the novel.

It’s still interesting to see the looks on my colleague’s faces when I tell them that I’ve (self) published a novel.  They look at me as if I’d just said ‘That song that’s at Number One..I wrote that.’

*Takes a moment to bask in adulation, then returns to reality*

If you don’t tell people that you have worked your socks off for ten, twenty years, applied your time to editing, reviewing, querying agents, sending out to beta readers before finally, finally, finally seeing your work in print, then why bother publishing in the first place?  True, you may not be worried about sales and are content to see your book sell just a few each month.  I count myself as a member of that happy group – at least for now.  But it cheers me every time I see another sale – it means someone else has downloaded that which I’ve worked so hard to achieve!  

On that last point, if you haven’t yet achieved that lofty and seemingly-unattainable goal, don’t ever, ever, ever give up on your dreams.  You are so close, and deserve it so much more that those who simply threw in the towel!   Don’t just take my word for it – ask anyone who has been published or is self-published.

There’s an old saying; ‘The only guarantee in life is this; If you give up, you will achieve nothing.’

But back to the main point of the post…if you have a book or a short story that is live, let as many people as possible know about it via Twitter, WordPress, LinkedIn, Facebook etc plus word of mouth.

I even invested in a set of magnetic signs for my works van – something that has spurred many people to ask me about them.  As soon as that happens – they get a free bookmark! 🙂

Even if they don’t download a copy immediately, the bookmark will linger on a desk, in a drawer or pocket for a time and might remind them at a later date, or be found by a curious family member who could then be intrigued enough to search for the story.

Other authors have produced fridge magnets and keyrings – other items that can last for years and subsequently trigger a sale.

So, don’t be afraid to put your name out there, display your cover and spread the word.

What other items of ‘swag’ have you created as a reminder that your book is ‘out there?’

Place your answers on the side of my fridge, please! 🙂

Six Sentence Sunday – a day late.

Apologies, but I was very busy yesterday.  Something involving an autojumble, a three-metre table and the sale of my life-long collection of model cars. 😦

So, to cheer myself up, I selected six sentences from my now-published book ‘A Construct of Angels’.

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This scene takes place once Michael the impromptu angel has been incarcerated in York’s Bootham Park Hospital, a secure (and real-life) mental care unit.

He had been babbling in mutiple (sometimes ancient) languages as well as trying to tear the flesh from his own arms and was promptly assessed by the authorities as mentally incapable.

Sara Finn, the paramedic who was partly responsible for not only causing him to fall to Earth, but for his imprisonment, is feeling terribly guilty about what has happened and decides to visit him.  A nurse called Susie escorts her to Michael’s room, where he appears to be acting very strangely;

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I watched, fascinated, as Michael pressed his fingers to his eyes, then flipped open his hands to form blinkers.  

For several seconds, he stared at his reflection in the acrylic mirror above the small sink, then covered his eyes before flipping open his hands to stare at his reflection once again.

“He does that a lot,” Susie said, her voice tinged with sadness.  

“But each time he does it, it’s…” her voice trailed off as if she was uncertain of her own thoughts.

“It’s..?” I prompted.

“Well, it’s as if he’s expecting to see a different face looking back at him.”

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Write on in 2013!