No deadlines

Aside from the ones I make, that is.

One of the best things about being a self-publishing author is that I can pick and choose my release dates, blog dates, etc. based upon my own schedule. Being sick these past two months made me realize that more so now than before.

There's always a catch, though. For me, a fair bit of my platform is automated. In this day and age, technology makes it easy for me to prep my posts in advance, and then I just set them up to post either weekly or monthly (depending on the material) while I work on my writing.

The problem, though, is that being knocked down by allergies, a stomach flu, and general illness for two months straight meant I didn't have the focus to sit down and script new posts so that there wouldn't be any interruptions. I've been grabbing things one at a time, getting them posted last minute (or, in the case of this past week on Facebook, posting it after the fact and just backdating it).

Even this blog post is behind from what I would normally post (noon), but at least I'm getting it out the same day, right?

All things considered, I'm getting back in the grove post-illness, so posts are getting scheduled now, and the manuscripts—gods, the manuscripts—are being worked on again. In fact, I've been on a binge this past week, and I've made it through twelve chapters of Comedy of Rain in my efforts to cut NaNoWriMo word vomit, as well as fill in the gaps for ideas that weren't as fleshed out as they should have been.

Here's hoping that I can keep up this progress through this long weekend.

Catch you all again soon!

"Cabover Cabaret": Behind the scenes of a marketing campaign

Afternoon, folks! First: apologies for the delay in this update, but it's a biggie, so I wanted it to be as informative as possible.

Recently a friend of mine asked what went into my marketing platforms, such as the one I did leading up to the release of Cabover Cabaret, so I thought I would transform our conversation into an informative "Behind the Scenes" look for your pleasure.

To begin with, I'll preface that I do most everything myself, so the financial cost for my marketing endeavors ultimately comes down to just my time. I'm the writer, artist, editor, layout editor, advertiser, promoter, so on and so forth. About the only thing I can't do myself is peer review, and for that I have wonderful connections via an online critiquing group that provides me the essential feedback I need to make my stories the best they can be.

First and foremost, though, I am my own agent. I'm responsible for setting everything up outside the actual writing in order to sell my product to the public. In this particular case, I had to set the deadline for myself a year in advance: I wanted to publish my next short story in February.

Plan ahead. Really far ahead.

An eight letter word for . . .

I often see these great debates explode over what part of self-publishing is more difficult. I don't think it's something to be generalized, but instead is individual to each person. Writing might be more painstaking for one while marketing is laborious for someone else. Much like one person excelling in Math while another does English, there're going to be things about the self-publishing platform that everyone will have trouble with.

For me, marketing slogans are my weak point. Language has to be handpicked for the message it's going to convey, and with only a limited word count to work with, it gets frustrating.

So like everything else, I take it a piece at a time. Sometimes I'll read over what I wrote, cover my screen, then type a second copy from memory. The "from memory" usually results in some phrase changes—rarely for the worst, frequently for the best. Do it enough times, and I get the best possible marketing spiel I can manage.

The problem is: starting.

I can have all my materials in front of me—the story itself, the story summary, the blurb, the Twitter pitch, the cover art, the marketing pictures—and draw a complete and utter blank. The only way I can seem to push past this is to get my "Eureka!" moment, 'cause once I have that first phrase (no matter where it falls in the marketing spiel), I can shape the rest around it.

"But how do you get the Eureka moment?" you wonder.

For me, it's seeing all my materials, then stepping away and doing something else. I switch objectives, do something hands on (any crafters out there? Knitters? Crocheters? Painters? Laundry folders?), and let my mind clear. The right words will compose themselves for me when I hit the border of "No longer at the forefront of my mind".

Now with that being said, I'm off to sort laundry and hunt me down a few Pokémon to clear my head so I can work out this new marketing slogan!