Genre-ish

http://tinyurl.com/7rjkpbl

Whenever I try to slot my books into categories, I realize that I am an unapologetic rule breaker. Unapologetic because I can't seem to write any differently, so it's either quit or plow ahead. Being a rule breaker is not always a good idea. Publishers and agents and bookstores and librarians can't slot you onto a particular shelf or sell you as easily.

Luckily for me, I have the most wonderful, risk-taking, supportive publisher - Imajin Books.

My novels might be literary, if I were not too embarrassed to say so. Embarrassed because it sounds pretentious, but also seems to imply that my novels are "about nothing". 

http://tinyurl.com/7vf42lz

My books do appear to fit within literary agent Nathan Bransford's definition. "In literary fiction the plot usually happens beneath the surface, in the minds and hearts of the characters. Things may happen on the surface, but what is really important are the thoughts, desires, and motivations of the characters as well as the underlying social and cultural threads that act upon them." I do have plots, some pretty complex ones, but I'd have to agree that the characters rule.

http://tinyurl.com/7m7hx2j

According to author Anita Mason, the difference between genre and literary fiction is best described by comparing fiction to a wheel. "We can call the spokes crime fiction, science fiction, horror, what you will. The hub holds the spokes together, but their strength is in their separateness. And in the fact that they do what they do, and not something else.
What is in the hub? Clearly, because the spokes connect with it, it has to be a bit of everything...[or]...the possibility of everything. This is why the literary novel cannot be governed by rules. ... And it isn't easier to write something that doesn't have rules; it's harder. There's nothing to start from."

http://tinyurl.com/73gpasl

It's even more difficult to have anyone label your books literary, especially if the novels straddle the line the way mine do. Plus most readers want more direction than that. They need cues so they can decide whether or not this is a book for them. For instance, they want to know if there is a puzzle to solve. In my books, there are definitely puzzles. Thus they are mostly classed as mysteries. Readers like to know if there is romance. There are love stories, though perhaps not always classic style. There is an element of the psychological thriller (emphasizing the psychology of the characters and their emotional states) in most of them.


 So I do like to warn readers. Or entice them, maybe. Personally I like reading books that don't follow the rules. I don't like the predictable. Which is probably part of the reason I write like that. I want my readers to know that they are in for a roller coaster ride that will sometimes go off the rails or take them into unknown, frightening territory. My endings are usually filled with hope and justice and love—but not always. However, if you like thoughtful writing, deep characters, and twists and spills, my books are for you.


Now you are prepared! My novels are included in both a Mystery/Crime anthology and a Romance anthology. The Deadly Dozen has all kinds of crime sub-genres included, while Sweet & Sensual has romance and its sub-genres. 

http://bookShow.me/B00DUIDMKO

The Bridgeman (the Emily Taylor novel in DD) is a dark tale about the masks some people wear and the evil that lurks in the mundane. Psychological thriller literary mystery might be its reader cues. 

Sweet Karoline is not really sweet, but it does have some heart-warming elements. Not to mention sensual, both in the standard way and in its setting. Romance? Definitely there, but I'd have to qualify it as a non-traditional, doesn't-follow-all-the-rules kind. Sweet Karoline might be classed as a psychological thriller historical romance literary mystery.

I may not be able to promise to follow the rules. But I do promise a compelling, challenging, mesmerizing read. 


 
http://getBook.at/deadlydozen


http://getbook.at/sweetsensual

 

Shiver Me Timbers...Look who's in the house!

 

Jesse is a member of our Imajin Books family and I loved his book, Pelican Bay. I think you should snap it up, now.

 Here's part of my Amazon review: "Pelican Bay is written in a rich, descriptive voice that is a love letter to the Carolina coast and the people who reside there.   I think of this book as ethereal: the poetic imagination, the power to make the reader leave the often mundane roots of reality and travel with the author on a flight of fancy. A ghost, a small ocean-kissed town, a collection of endearing but exotic characters, the search for a truth that may be damaging to unearth...written in beautiful prose."

And now I'm honoured to have Jesse as my guest blogger today!

   I've had several people ask me what inspired my novel, PELICAN BAY. I wish I could tell you that there is some ingenious idea behind the book.
     The truth is that about three years ago, sleeping restlessly during those delicate hours when dawn is just beginning to shoo away the night with her long white fingers, I dreamed I was standing on a South Carolina beach with a faceless woman by my side. But hardly faceless in my heart. To my right were grass-bearded dunes, orange-black humps in the predawn light. To my left was the groaning shadow of a dock reaching out to sea.
     When we stared out in front of us, only dozens of feet beyond the surf, dark stones littered the sea's floor. I remember asking the faceless woman in the dream if she saw the bizarre stones as well. She was voiceless as well as faceless.
     I wanted to walk closer to the sea to investigate, but awoke in a cold sweat to the reality of my old house instead. That peaceful useless house that sits in the foyer of Alabama, its hoarsely whispering backyard pines throwing stars at Birmingham. That house that no longer belongs to me. No longer speaks to me. In the night.
     As I sat up in bed, all that I could think about was the Carolina Sea, the dunes, and most of all, the dark rocks under the ocean. They haunted me all day long, until I finally flipped open my notebook computer and gently pounded away, my fingers seeming to think for themselves.
     From here is where it all began. The faceless woman became someone very real from my past, someone you may hate and love and hate. And everything else, including Captain Shelby, came from that dream. That eerie dream that started a fictional avalanche that eventually got me published.
     So sorry if the impetus behind PELICAN BAY isn't sexy enough for you. But I have come to believe that the lines between dreams and reality are not as bold as we would like them to be. I feel that one of my missions as an author is to blur those lines in my work, for in my mind, heart, and soul, I believe that the truth lies, not in just one.
     But in both.
     Happy dreaming. 
     Yours in literature,
             J.G.C.

Watch the trailer here:  http://ow.ly/n8EWn

Order the book here: PELICAN BAY

Connect with Jesse! 

Web Site: www.jessegileschristiansen.com

Blog: www.jgchristiansen.wordpress.com

Twitter:  https://www.twitter.com/JesseGilesChris

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jesse.gileschristiansen.7

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5261095.Jesse_Giles_Christiansen 

 

Consider Yourself Well In! Guest Peter Clenott

"Consider yourself well in, consider yourself part of the family"

I haven't really met Peter in person, but he's one of our Imajin-nation, so he has to be great. Here are some things I have learned about him. He has three wonderful kids (even though they're teens LOL). He writes mainly in the YA genre in their honor.  In August 2013, DEVOLUTION will be published by Imajin Books. He's also one of those people whom I admire for their social services and non-profit work. Sounds like he's politically involved, too, so look out Massachusetts!

Now, to the best part - Peter's new book, Devolution.

DEVOLUTION features sixteen-year-old Chiku Flynn. Chiku was born in the Congo rainforest to two anthropologists studying the native chimpanzees. For the first eleven years of her life, Chiku is more chimp than child. She nests with the chimpanzees, grooms them and has no qualms about sticking a leaf tool in the soil and slurping up the ants and termites she uncovers. When she is eleven, her mother is killed, and Chiku is sent back to the United States to grow into a maladjusted teenager medicated for anxiety, depression, mood disorder, hyperactivity, you name it. When her father disappears, Chiku must return to the Congo to discover her true heroic self. In Swahili, Chiku means ‘chatterbox’ but the chimpanzees of the Maiku National park, with whom she can communicate using sign language, know her simply as Talk Talk

An Excerpt for my followers - FREE!
     Perched on a branch in a tree at the top of Chimp Hill, the highest point on the island, Scallion studied the night sky. In times past, the moon, the stars, all of the bright objects set in the darkness above, would have held no meaning for him or for his fellow chimpanzees. With good reason their curiosity was focused on the earth and upon the rain forest in which they lived, how it fed them and nurtured them. This had been true since the beginning of time, since the first chimpanzee found a home here. Only the arrival of the girl and her parents had changed that, changed everything, in fact.
     Scallion didn’t feel the wind breathing through his brown fur, didn’t feel its soft tickling. Sometimes the moon shone a brilliant red or even purple, colors reflecting off the water of the Mamba River, which flowed around Chimp Hill and created his island home. On those nights the young chimpanzee reflected upon days buried deeply but firmly in his memory when he and the human female played tag and leaped through the trees, wraaing and hooting and pretending they were of the same kind.
     Tonight the mouth-shaped moon seemed to be frowning. The girl had explained to him, using her hands in a language her father was teaching them, that they all lived on a great big ball. Using the thumb and middle finger of her left hand she would pinch her right wrist and explain to them that their world made a circle every day so that light was a part of the morning and darkness an expected feature of night.
     "The moon," she signed, touching her forehead with two fingers in the shape of the crescent, "is a ball of rock that floats in the air so far away birds can never reach it. Chimpanzees can never get there either, but our kind can."

Buy Devolution HERE

It's still only 99¢ for its debut price, so get it on your ereader now and read it to your kids!

UNDER THE COVER!

Well, not really under the cover, but here IS the cover you've all been waiting for. Jefferson Airplane serenades Karoline into the world....When the truth is found to be lies, and all the joy within you dies, don't you want somebody to love, don't you need somebody to love...?

And here's a snippet of my wonderful Kirkus Review:

  "In her latest novel, Astolfo (Legacy, 2012, etc.) takes what at first glance appears to be a straightforward story of murder and guilt to an unexpected place ... where love is discovered.  -->

A deliciously vibrant portrait that realistically muddles good and evil."—Kirkus Reviews

Consider Yourself At Home!

Another Guest from my Family of Imajin Books! Chris Redding introduces us to her newest book.

Which Exit Angel

Just released. Get it for the introductory price of 99 cents for a limited time.

Blurb:
She's an angel who hasn't earned her wings. He's a preacher who is questioning his faith. How are they supposed to fend off the coming apocalypse?

Excerpt:
A bell rang, but Detective Angela Sky wasn’t getting her wings.
Not that she wasn’t due, she just hadn’t made the commitment yet. She’d get around to it, right now she had a murder to investigate.
She fished her Smartphone out of her pocket to see who had sent her a text message. That’s what had been ringing, well, dinging because she’d left it on the default sound for incoming messages. Dang technology. Harder to solve than most homicides.
Gabriel again. Sighing, she put the device back in her pocket. He’d have to wait. She pulled her shirt from her sticky back. Dang New Jersey humidity. The dog days of August in New Jersey was not her idea of a good time. She didn’t want murders of angels to take place at all, but she’d enjoy a cooler climate.  Even the sun going down hadn’t taken the heat out of the air.
The body in question had already been removed, but had there been a chalk outline it would have included wings.
Bunny Watts, the deceased, had received her wings more than a hundred years before. She’d been a guardian angel, but no one in Heaven or Earth seemed to know what she was doing down a dark alley on a humid Saturday night in the small Shore town. 
Another person had been there too and that someone had killed Bunny. It was Angela’s job to solve the crime. The way kidnappers crossing state lines were FBI jurisdiction, angels’ deaths were her bailiwick .
The only witness sat in a Sea Witch, New Jersey, police car.
Sea Witch? What the heck kind of name was that for a town?

Buy here: http://amzn.com/B00D1TPXZY
Where to find Chris Redding
http://chrisredddingauthor.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/chrisreddingauthor
www.twitter.com/chrisredding
Enjoy and thanks to Catherine for having me today.
You're most welcome, Chris!

One of the Family: Guest Kat Flannery

 

My Guest today is one of my Imajineers: our family of authors published by Imajin Books. Kat Flannery talks to us about how she writes her incredibly realistic characters.


When I’m writing I often visualize the characters to look like an actor or actress.

With my last book CHASING CLOVERS, I was asked all the time what actors I thought should play my characters and of course I had the answers right away, Ilsa Fisher and Dwayne Johnson, yes the rock. 

I’m not one who thinks my books could ever be movies, but hey, you never know. So just for fun and in case Hollywood comes calling I thought I’d help them out with who I think should play my main characters.

 Nora Rushton: I created Nora to be somewhat exotic looking in the fact that she had black hair and blue eyes. She is a healer, or what most call her a witch.

I knew right away that she’d be soft and timid, yet when required she’d have a feisty side too.

Emily Blunt came to mind. She appears to have the same quiet, stoic mannerisms I created in Nora, but the fire needed to play her too.

Otakatay was bit harder for me to pin down.
He is tough as nails, gritty, lethal and will kill you if he needs to.


He is half Lakota and half white with a dark look to him.
 
All the regular actors don’t come to mind when I think of him, until it hit me when I was writing this post, Jason Momoa. Yes, that was it. Dark, feral, beastly look, with a yummy appeal to him as well.

Excerpt from Lakota Honor: PROLOGUE

Colorado Mountains, 1880

     The blade slicing his throat made no sound, but the dead body hitting the ground did. With no time to stop, he hurried through the dark tunnel until he reached the ladder leading out of the shaft.
 He’d been two hundred feet below ground for ten days, with no food and little water. Weak and woozy, he stared up the ladder. He’d have to climb it and it wasn’t going to be easy. He wiped the bloody blade on his torn pants and placed it between his teeth. Scraped knuckles and unwashed hands gripped the wooden rung.
     The earth swayed. He closed his eyes and forced the spinning in his head to cease. One thin bronzed leg lifted and came down wobbly. He waited until his leg stopped shaking before he climbed another rung. Each step caused pain, but was paired with determination. He made it to the top faster than he’d thought he would. The sky was black and the air was cool, but fresh. Thank goodness it was fresh.
      He took two long breaths before he emerged from the hole. The smell from below ground still lingered in his nostrils; unwashed bodies, feces and mangy rats. His stomach pitched. He tugged at the rope around his hands. There had been no time to chew the thick bands around his wrists when he’d planned his escape. It was better to run than crawl, and he chewed through the strips that bound his feet instead. There would be time to free his wrists later.
     He pressed his body against the mountain and inched toward the shack. He frowned. A guard stood at the entrance to where they were. The blade from the knife pinched his lip, cutting the thin skin and he tasted blood. He needed to get in there. He needed to say goodbye. He needed to make a promise.
     The tower bell rang mercilessly. There was no time left. He pushed away from the rocky wall, dropped the knife from his mouth into his bound hands, aimed and threw it. The dagger dug into the man’s chest. He ran over, pulled the blade from the guard and quickly slid it across his throat. The guard bled out in seconds.
     He tapped the barred window on the north side of the dilapidated shack. The time seemed to stretch. He glanced at the large house not fifty yards from where he stood. He would come back, and he would kill the bastard inside.
     He tapped again, harder this time, and heard the weak steps of those like him shuffling from inside. The window slid open, and a small hand slipped out.
     “Toksha ake—I shall see you again,” he whispered in Lakota.
     The hand squeezed his once, twice and on the third time held tight before it let go and disappeared inside the room.
     A tear slipped from his dark eyes, and his hand, still on the window sill, balled into a fist. He swallowed past the sob and felt the burn in his throat. His chest ached for what he was leaving behind. He would survive, and he would return.
     Men shouted to his right, and he crouched down low. He took one last look around and fled into the cover of the forest.



Click the title and buy Lakota Honor now! On sale for a limited time.


BIO
     Kat Flannery has loved writing ever since she was a girl. She is often seen jotting her ideas down in a little black book. When not writing, or researching, Kat enjoys snuggling on her couch with a hot chocolate and a great book.
     Her first novel, CHASING CLOVERS became an Amazon’s bestseller in Historical and Western romance. This is Kat’s second book, and she is currently hard at work on the third.
     When not focusing on her creative passions, Kat is busy with her three boys and doting husband.

Kat's Website: http://www.katflannery-author.com (or click on the banner above)
Kat's Blog: http://kat-scratch.blogspot.ca

My Guest: Internationally Best-Selling Author Cheryl Kaye Tardif

 

Submerge Yourself in the World of Cheryl Kaye Tardif

When people ask me what I do, I like to tell them: "I kill people off for a living." You can imagine the looks I get. Sometimes I'll follow with: "Fictitiously, of course. I'm a suspense writer." Sometimes I won't say anything else. Yeah, I'm bad that way.

Writing thriller, suspense, mystery and/or crime novels has always been my passion—especially if I throw a pinch of supernatural or paranormal into the mix. I've always been drawn to dark stories, ones that raise the hairs on the back of my neck or make me glance over my shoulder. The two greatest influences in my writing life have been Dean Koontz and Stephen King. Need I say more?

So what can I offer you if you choose to read my books? I hope and strive to give you a satisfying read, once that will impact you emotionally. If I can make you shudder or tremble or wince or even cry, then I've done my job.

In SUBMERGED, I share with you a very personal fear of mine—the fear of being in a car that's underwater and not being able to get out. I have traveled long distances by car hundreds of times during my life, twice from one coast of Canada to the other. Whenever we're along a stretch of highway with a body of water beside me, my fear kicks in. And I hold my breath…waiting…praying…

I want you to relate to this fear. But even more, I want my characters to come to life. I want you to feel for Marcus Taylor, a struggling recovering addict who has had his fair share of grief and guilt. I want you to admire his strength, even in the midst of his weaknesses. I want you, dear reader, to feel compassion for this man who has lost his wife and son in a terrible accident, who blames himself for their deaths, and who is searching for redemption, though he doesn't really know he is.

I want you to cheer on Rebecca Kingston, a mother on the verge of divorce who has left an abusive husband. I want you to feel empathy for her because this decision, no matter what others think, is not an easy one to make. I want you to cry with her when she realizes she is physically unable to help her children who are trapped with her in a sinking vehicle. And I want you to be holding your breath every time Rebecca does.

Marcus and Rebecca (and the others in SUBMERGED) may only be characters on paper, but they feel real to me. I gave "birth" to them and watched them grow. With every step they took, I wiped away their tears, hugged them and loved them. And, dear reader, I sincerely hope you'll love them just as much.

Happy reading…with the lights on…

Cheryl Kaye Tardif, international bestselling author

PS: The Kindle edition of SUBMERGED is available on Amazon from March 4^th – 7^th for a special price during the Killer Thriller Book Launch.

Learn more about me and connect at:

http://www.cherylktardif.com

http://www.twitter.com/cherylktardif

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cheryl-Kaye-Tardif-novels/29769736630

 

How to Write a Review #2: Star Wars

How to Write A Review Part 2: Star Wars

As a retired teacher, I am biased in my view of ratings (pun intended). I came from the “old school”, literally. I never believed in scoring something unless there was a set of criteria laid out from the beginning. When I gave an assignment, I also gave the evaluation scheme with it. If the student wanted an A, I would describe what s/he had to do or demonstrate.

The most objective appraisals, of course, involve right or wrong answers such as 2 + 2 = 4. No debate. As for all other evaluations, some subjectivity is involved. However, when the assessor has knowledge of and experience with the task or skill being evaluated, the subjectivity is dependable.  

That brings me to Amazon reviews.

As a reader I am asked by the site to give the book I’ve just read a star rating. This score is extremely important to the author of the novel. Amazon uses the ratings to sell/promote the books. Readers most often only look at novels with a 4-5 star rating. But what are the criteria? What does the rating mean?

She loves me, she loves me not.

Well, there are no criteria. Unless you are a professional reviewer  and have studied the various genres, the rules a writer is supposed to follow, the techniques or skills to be admired, and so on, you will be completely subjective in your evaluation. You’ll have no scoring template to go by.

In fact, Amazon assumes that this is the case. Clearly the scoring guideline wants you to be totally subjective. Five stars means “I love it”. How much more biased can you be?? 4 stars = “I like it”. 3 stars = “It’s okay”. 2 stars = “I don’t like it”. 1 star = “I hate it”. You HATE a book? Oh my.

When I look at the ratings on my own books, I often cringe. The Bridgeman has a 4 star rating. I would expect that its score would be somewhat lower because the subject matter is dark. Despite the hopeful ending filled with love and community, it nevertheless describes the underbelly of society. Victim, on the other hand, is a pretty tame read. There’s lots of native philosophy, hope, and love. It has a four and a half star rating. Legacy and Seventh Fire both have 5 stars. 

 I have to admit, however, that the number of reviews is low. (Want to do a review for me??) See all the books here: My website or on Amazon .

My author rank today is 140,000 out of several million. Could be better, but still an achievement.

However – all of this ranking and promoting and highlighting and selling is partly the result of the number of stars a novel has. And the number of stars is so subjective that I don’t see how my books can possibly be compared to anyone else’s. What my readers love or hate may be polar opposite to what you love or hate. In fact, I often look at a one-star rating and wonder what planet that reader must be on in order to    despise a particular work that I loved. But that's all my own bias!

In addition, while I'm ranting, apparently some authors go into a competitors' review profile and put a one-star rating there on purpose. Huh? I sincerely hope this is some kind of urban myth, but maybe not.

So – what to do? One of my colleagues refuses to give stars at all. That might be a good strategy, except for the fact that Amazon bases its promotions and highlights on stars. My policy is that I never post a review that’s only 1 or 2-star worthy. In other words, I didn’t like the book at all. Maybe that skews my ratings, but so what? Nobody is going to look around for those lower ratings anyway. They’re going to go for the 4 & 5 star books. If there are one or two stars scattered among the other 5-star scores, the lower scores are going to be dismissed.

I will write a 3-star review if the reasons I didn’t like it are technical. Such as, the editing could be improved, but the plot and character descriptions, etc., are essentially good.

The only way to really get the low-down on the book is to read the review. Ignore or take the star rating lightly. (And I did have that previous rant on “how to write a review”, so go read that, too.) To me, it goes hand-in-hand with not bothering to post a 1 or 2 star reaction. 

Unless Amazon creates objective criteria for loving or hating a book, perhaps based on expert reviewers’ point systems, I am keeping with my policy. What about you?

Oh What a Thrill!

I absolutely LOVE writing. At times, I can't even focus on the conversation I'm having because I am writing in my head. I'm the kind of author who "cooks" the story for a long time, in notes, scribbles, memory. As I age, however, I'm discovering that I can't multitask like I used to - thus the vacant stares every once in while when I'm supposed to be doing two things at once (e.g. writing and talking).

When I get the words right, it's absolutely thrilling. For instance, I love this passage from THE BRIDGEMAN because I think it describes Emily and Langford's love for one another so well.

I actually get a shiver when I read it. Every time. I think it shows why being a writer is such an obsession: when you love what you do, and when you get it "write", it hooks you forever.

THE BRIDGEMAN is free December 26-27-28 so I can get YOU hooked on the series.

FREE DECEMBER 26-28

 PS THIS EXCERPT IS FOR ADULTS ONLY.

He began to rub my neck, kneading the tension in my shoulders, letting his hands play over the small soft hairs at the nape of my neck. Standing very close to me, touching me, I could feel his body begin to respond, as I snuggled into his arms. I turned as I finished the last (telephone) call, my arms around his hips, my face buried in his t-shirt. I loved the smell of him, slightly sweaty mixed with a little of the fragrance of paint and soap. He tilted my head up, smiled at me, his eyes tracing over my face with the gratitude and wonder of someone who had almost lost his love and would forever appreciate regaining it.

We kissed for a while, slowly at first and then more urgently, before he led me to our bed. Once we were undressed, he caressed me, his artist's hands exploring my body with tenderness and knowledge. I allowed my mind to drift, became aware only of the soft hairs of his body, the gentleness of his fingers, the wetness of my response... I let myself blend into him, felt the strength flowing between us, knew that whatever else happened in our lives, this was all that was really important.

Freeby Versus Freebee

 

My ebook, The Bridgeman, is free for the next three days. The jargon is “freeby” or “freebee”. I’ve been mulling over which one to use.

At first glance, freeby would seem to entice a little better. The “by” at the end might make the potential reader think of “buy”. Quickly followed by the realization that they can buy this one for FREE. (Buy can mean purchase for money but can also mean acquire a stake in or believe in wholeheartedly. I really like that last one.) Will potential fans think: hey, I can buy into that freeby?

However, could the word “by” make the readers think of “bye” instead? Could they think: hey, you get what you pay for, which means something that costs nothing can’t be good? (Missing the point about getting readers hooked on my series?) Maybe I should use freebee instead.

Perhaps this spelling would put readers in a really good mood. It could make them think of the birds and the bees. Of soft beds or pastoral scenes or verdant hillsides. They might like the idea of having a freebee.

However, could the word remind them of little buzzing insects that sting? I have to admit, The Bridgeman does sting a little: it’s a controversial topic that hits the reader between the eyes with its ferocity. But it’s such a great mystery and ends with hope, so I’m very proud of it.

The other question I am mulling is: where on earth did freeby or freebee come from? Are they akin to newby, wannabe, passersby, hushaby, hereby, thereby, whereby, bribee, frizbee?

I am so confused. But then, there’s always freebie: “An article or service given free.”

Like THE BRIDGEMAN! BUT, I continue to mull over: shouldn’t freebie actually be the plural of freeby, as in freebies? And where did the word mulling come from, anyway? Mulling wine perhaps?

 

Oh well, as I often say, “Belly up to the book bar. The first round’s on me.”

May 31, 2012

 

On Thursday, May 31, Crime Writing Month came to a close with a HUGE day of excitement for me. A quadruple day!!

My article was in the National Post’s Afterword, entitled “It’s A Mystery”. Afterword: It's A Mystery 

My Tips for Writers appeared in CBC Canada Writes. CBC: CanadaWrites

The Instant Cash episode with my daughter and me appeared on television. Instant Cash, Episode 18

I was so busy organizing the Arthur Ellis Dinner for Crime Writers of Canada that I couldn’t find a second to go and look. But then came the best moments of all.

Mary Jane Maffini, one of my idols, read out my name as the winner of the Best Short Story.  I immediately began to cry. Completely undignified.

I had given all the finalists instructions about having a 2 minute speech ready, so I had to follow my own rules. This is the speech I read/squeezed out between tears.

“Thank-you to NorthWord Magazine for giving my story a home. To the Arthur Ellis judges for picking mine from all the fabulous stories on the final list. I’m sure it was an out-of-the-hat kind of choice. To my family, friends, and Crime Writers of Canada colleagues, I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you, especially my husband Vince. This story is about a teacher and a child, so I dedicate my award to all teachers and to the children who have made my life spectacular.”

Later, the President of Crime Writers of Canada presented me with the Derrick Murdoch Award, for outstanding contribution to the organization. Once again, I read the speech, since I didn’t trust myself to be able to remember it.

“Thank-you from the bottom of my heart, especially to Garry Ryan. I feel like an interior decorator who gets credit for the beautiful house. Meanwhile there are so many people in this room who built the foundations that are unseen but which hold everything together. Next were the electricians and the plumbers who had to weather sparks and floods to ensure that everything worked. I came along and added some furniture, paint and accessories, and this year, I’m getting the credit for that. Luckily, this house that Crime Writers of Canada built has no roof. We can continue to climb skyward and I have no doubt that we will. Melodie and Alison, I would go out and engrave your names next to mine, but I have a feeling that you’ll get your own some day.”

Oh what a night!!! Next to the birth of my children, one of the best ever.

Should I Be Worried?

 

The other day, I am at my doctor’s office for a complete physical. This means that I have a little more time with him than usual. As it happens, I am also in the midst of a rewrite on the fourth Emily Taylor Mystery.

Seventh Fire tells the story (finally) of what happened to Emily and Langford in Vancouver. Some fans have mentioned that they disliked the references to their past, when this has nothing to do with the plot. I obviously didn’t do my job well enough for those who missed it.

Emily’s motivation for becoming an amateur sleuth in The Bridgeman had everything to do with her past. She is terrified that the media and police presence in their idyllic hideout, Burchill, will lead to Langford’s unmasking. For now, the couple wants–no, desperately needs–to remain incognito. They’ve been through too much; they are trying to heal.  The Bridgeman

In Victim, Emily is struggling with the secret. She can’t feel as close to May as she would like, since she is withholding so much of herself from her friend. Her interaction with Agnes Lake is a gift that wouldn’t have happened had she not faced the source of her unhappiness. Emily’s meeting with Agnes coincides with the search for May’s Aunt Oona. Not only that, the discovery they make allows a financial freedom that they would not have otherwise had. All the stories are closely intertwined. The hovering personal history has a direct impact. Victim

Although Legacy barely mentions the past at all, Emily’s childlessness was caused by what happened in Vancouver and is the reason she gets so involved with the Sanderson family. When she and Langford end up being parents, Emily finds the strength at last to deal with the legal issues they’d abandoned.  Legacy

Thus the thread does have a purpose within each of the plots, moving Emily to act and react.

Seventh Fire is the culmination of the couple’s growth, from hiding and an attempt at healing through anonymity, to revelation and confronting the legal tasks.

However, back to my doctor’s office, where I am undergoing that joy of joys, the Pap test. I like to have an idea for distracting myself during especially compromising situations. I tell my doctor that I have another question and he says, ask away.

“If someone were strangled to the point of death, but technically did not die, instead, they were cut up by their murderer and bled out, would you say they’d died of strangulation or exsanguination?”

He looks up at me, his eyebrows raised, and says, “Should I be worried about you?”

I privately think that perhaps he should be worried about someone else, lest I decide to test the theories on an unsuspecting victim. Instead, I laugh, and explain that I am editing my fourth novel, and this question has come up.

He answers from his own store of knowledge,
then does some research for me to confirm.

He does ask two things.

One, do not use his real name.

Two, make him tall, dark and handsome.
Little does he know, that's how I picture him anyway.  Especially the night before an exam such as this one.

The Music of Words

 In my family, we sing all the time and always did. Once when my nephew Jacob was little, buzzing around at our feet as my sisters and I worked in the kitchen, he lifted his gorgeous blond head and asked, “Does everybody sing like this?” We laughed but we didn’t have an answer. We just knew it was natural to us. 
     Any bit of conversation, any line, can remind us of some lyrics and cause us to burst into song. Usually, laughter follows, particularly when the song is an oldie or particularly funny.

     For me and my two sisters who came right after me, our mother was a stay-at-home mom. She sang in the kitchen and told us stories of her childhood, painting pictures of the farm, the depression, and a little red-haired girl who loved school. She had to quit when she was fourteen to work in a woolen mill miles away. I could always picture her long shapely legs carrying her up the hill at Norval, through the Brampton laneways, into the middle of town where the woolen mill still stands. It’s now an office building and a restaurant – even my dentist has his practice there.

     Mom told me she’d always wanted to be a writer, which was why she was especially proud of the fact that I inherited her gift and obsession. Her support and encouragement allowed me to actually become the author she’d dreamt about.

     It was a little different for our two younger sisters, because Mom went to work when they were quite young. However, the singing never stopped. Even through her dementia, our mother is beloved by her caregivers and her fellow residents for her propensity to burst into song at any moment. It makes them smile.

      I began to write as soon as I acquired the skill to string words together, around seven years old. I hear this often from other authors: that the desire to put sentences and ideas on paper began in early childhood and never abated. 
     I wake up in the morning with song lyrics, tunes, and stories in my head. How lucky is that? The Emily Taylor Mysteries

Never Would've Imajin'd

     The last time I sent Emily Taylor for a tour around the world, she created a storm. An Amazon Kindle ratings storm, that is. The Bridgeman went to #11 with 9300 downloads. Victim went to #14 with 14,000 downloads. Afterward, the sales were brisk. My wonderful Twitter world began to talk and spread the word and buy. Not only that, they emailed and tweeted that they enjoyed my characters, the setting of Burchill, and the story (despite the sometimes tough messages embedded).

    My Imajin publisher, Cheryl Tardif, is a genius at marketing, and I say this without bias: I had watched her career as a writer before I even became an author at her new publishing company. She was then, and is now, one of those people who is both creative and savvy. She researches, experiments, and follows the results. Now she brings her authors with her.

    When she suggests something, I do it to the best of my ability. I'm not very tech savvy and I tend to get frustrated with the ins and outs of the virtual world. Rather than looking under another internet rock, I'd rather slam the lid down on my laptop, walk away, and pray the icon I'm looking for will pop up while I'm gone. Lucky for me, I have Cheryl and my husband, Vince, who often intervenes before Laptop goes flying.

    So when Cheryl said, Let's do another Bridgeman promo, I was hesitant, but I did as I was told. We held the promo on a Friday, Saturday and Sunday. I'm not sure the day of the week is relevant, though I thought perhaps people would be around on a weekend looking for a book to read. Especially if the weather sucked in their part of the world, they way it does in mine currently. Friday night, 9:30 p.m., the stats were thus: The Bridgeman 760; Victim 13277; Legacy (the third in the series who's not yet had her coming-out party) 32614. Only 560 downloads.

  

Another secret I must tell you. I am somewhat easily crushed. Doesn't mean I don't get back up and fight, but I do have to lay on the mat for a while and nurse my bruises. Virtual or not. So on Saturday, I must admit, I tried not to think about The Bridgeman. Since one of my short stories had been nominated on Thursday for an Arthur Ellis Award, I had lots to keep my spirits buoyed.
But I did have to peek on Saturday night, again 9:30 p.m. The Bridgeman 491; Victim 18297; Legacy 40426. Legacy was actually doing worse! Huh?

    After a busy Sunday morning, I finally peeked at 1:30 p.m. The Bridgeman 516, Victim 17128; Legacy 44060. Readers appeared to be sampling Victim. Perhaps after reading The Bridgeman? Or downloading it for free?

    At 11 p.m., after family stuff on Sunday afternoon and more than one glass of red wine, I spied a Tweet from Imajin. The Bridgeman had hit #21 overall. So in I went to Amazon and checked. I was surprised, thrilled, amazed, puzzled...The Bridgeman was now #6 in mystery & thriller combo; #4 in mystery alone; #3 in women sleuths category.

    What was the huge difference between the other two days and this one? It couldn't all be my hourly (and sometimes half-hourly) tweets. In fact, I was terrified of boring my followers into unfollow-dom. I used World Literary Cafe, which I am certain helped a great deal. I posted on Goodreads, another great service to readers and authors. I did the same all three days, though.

    On Sunday, I paid $20 to Kindle Author.  I'm not sure if Kindle Author made the difference, or whether it was a cool rainy Sunday and everyone felt like reading. It's hard to conduct an experiment when there are so many variables. At this writing, I'm not sure of the number of downloads, but suffice it to say that if The Bridgeman got to #21, a whole bunch of new readers are involved in my series!

   

    I think I've told you before, I do have faith in my writing. I love doing it, I love sharing it, I am thrilled every single time someone tells me they like my books. But I was never that good at the marketing angle. Then along came my miracle, Imajin Books and Cheryl Tardif, and I am, at a rather advanced age, just beginning my career as an author. Loving every single minute (expect for those pauses on the mat). Never would've imajined!

The Emily Taylor Mystery Series 

Imajin Books

Trailers

Goosebump Friday

This has been a full day of goosebumps. Last night at the Arthur Ellis Shortlist Event in Toronto, our RVP, Mike McPherson, actually read out my name when he got to the short story category. I was flustered (fell apart as the emcee at that point) and thrilled. To have my name in that list is a dream come true. Since I was seven, I remember wanting to be an author. I use the word author because I already had the compulsion to write - that was a pure gift from my parents and other ancestors in my gene pool - so I was already a writer. Being an author meant having written something that others read. I had that obsession, too; I wrote fairy tales for my friends in Grade 3. So to be one of the Arthur Ellis finalists - the Crime Writers of Canada's highest recognition of excellence in mystery writing - you can imagine the goosebumps. Then all day long - the congratulations from people whom I admire greatly. Those goosebumps just kept coming. On top of that, The Bridgeman is on another freebie promo this weekend, and people are continuing to download it from all over the world. I am lucky, humbled, grateful, filled with joy - can't describe the tumble of emotions. FREE! The Bridgeman April 20-22

Workin' Hard

 

     This afternoon, I am writing. I have to do an article for our magazine, so I make a blank document and give it a name. I decide to do some tweets. Next I fill out the tax forms for our business. Now, the writing.

     Suddenly two morning doves alight on the windowsill outside my office. I have no idea why morning doves are up in the p.m., but here they are. One is a bit larger, with lovely blue markings; the other is small and mostly soft brown. I think the bigger one must be the male, because now and then he jumps on top of the other one. Plus he’s got the plumage. All males have plumage because they need to attract us females into their nests.

     Anyway, I’m still admiring my visitors when our smallest cat comes up to the shelf inside (which my husband built so they could look out the window…) and she sees the doves. They can’t see her, however. They continue to ruffle their feathers, coo; the female moves back and forth to escape her boisterous mate. Our cat begins to race, left to right, across the shelf, tracking the birds as they play. She can’t get at them; they can’t see her; no harm done.

     For some reason, this reminds me of my writing. I’m supposed to be writing. What a lovely scene to write about. However, I do have that article to finish and I have begun the finishes touches on novel five. Then there’s that cozy and the children’s book.

     Speaking of book five, I think about the Emily Taylor series and how my lovely publisher has suggested connecting it to Burchill. I’d claimed Book 4 was the last in the series, but Cheryl Tardif of Imajin Books is a brilliant marketer, and she knows what’s she talking about. After we spend so much time branding the Emily Taylor Mystery series, why not keep it going?

     I sit and bask in the gratitude for a few minutes, as the sun shines through my spotty windows, right on my face, warm and spring shy. The Bridgeman has been selling all around the world. People in the US, UK and Germany have my book, as well as my own Canadians. I am in awe. A few short months ago, I would never have believed this. I am excited, happy, challenged, thankful. Now Victim is going to spread her wings with a free promo, fly off to foreign lands, sit in homes hundreds of miles away from where I sit…doing nothing.

     Back to the writing. What did I call that article again? I know it’s on the desktop somewhere.

     Meanwhile, the doves fly away and Miss Monk goes to sleep purring.

     Suddenly, I have a great idea for how to connect Book 5 to Burchill. Where did I put that file? www.imajinbooks.com

Emily Taylor Tours The World

 

     The Amazon book ranks are like golf: the lower the score, the better you’re doing. So the 48 hours during which my main protagonist Emily Taylor (via my first novel, The Bridgeman) went from 96,339 to 398 was, to say the least, absolutely like getting a hole in one. (I’ve never gotten a hole in one, mind you, so I’m just imagining.) I liked to envision Emily touring the world.

     I always had confidence in my writing. At school, at work, I excelled with words because I have been obsessed with them since childhood. I took workshops, classes, and read tons of how-to books, attended conferences, and went online to learn the craft and later, the business.

     I also wallpapered my bedroom with rejection slips.

     In frustration, I self-published the Emily Taylor mysteries and sold about 300 copies of each of the first three to my family, friends, and colleagues. The last one didn’t sell because I was sick the year of its release and couldn’t work at it.

     Despite the modest success and the wonderful compliments from ardent fans, there was still something missing. In 2011, I found my missing part: publisher Cheryl Tardif of Imajin Books. Not only did my publisher like my writing, she is also a master with marketing.

     Now I was beginning to get some confidence not simply with my novels but also with my ability to find a wider readership. Until the end of February, however, I was dismayed at how slow the Emily Taylor Mysteries were to catch on. My books are somewhat dark, not exactly classic mystery, and have a touchy subject at their core. But, dammit, they’re really good and they’re the kind of thinking book that I like to read! (That’s what I say when I have a couple of glasses of wine and feel really self-assured.)

     What happened at the end of February? Cheryl Tardif, my publisher, enrolled The Bridgeman in the Kindle Direct Publishing Select program (KDP Select), which one writer (Joanna Penn) describes as the Canadian Idol for writers. (Although she said American.) If you have something to offer an audience, you need to let them know.

     It’s a bit controversial, in that Amazon is attempting to push out all the opposition with this program (shades of a monopoly). We were required to remove The Bridgeman from every other distribution channel. Then we offered it for free for 48 hours. Here’s what happened to The Bridgeman, almost minute by minute.

     At midnight on February 28, I started out with a rank of 96,339 (remember, this is out of millions) on Amazon Kindle. Only 13 sales and no borrows. We now place it in the hands of KDP Select and give it out for free.

     By 8 a.m., I am up at 2,131 rank for freebies, with 802 downloads, no borrows. Because of the sudden movement, though, I appear on two bestseller lists: #17 in Kindle Mystery Women Sleuths and #50 in Kindle Thrillers Suspense. Guaranteed to stir more interest!

     Later that day – 1100 downloads in the U.S. alone. Cheryl is encouraging: soon 1100 people will be reading The Bridgeman. They’ll tell their friends, and their friends will tell their friends…

     Here is where I start to envision Emily's tour around the world.

     Still later – 1157 US downloads + 61 in the U.K. My cousin in England is now reading my book! The rank: 134 on the free Kindles list. The coveted Top 100 Free Kindles is soooo close.

     By this time, I am biting my nails and jumping up and down in my seat. Not only that, I open a bottle of wine…will I celebrate or drown my sorrows?

     I tweet, facebook and google obsessively.

     Suddenly, Cheryl’s messages begin to pop up regularly:

“1241 US

68 UK

6 Germany

Congrats on breaking into the top 100 free kindles! Not everyone makes that list so you did very well.”

And then…

“2546 free d/ls in US and #87 Top 100 Free Kindle ebooks. This is excellent!”

“Over 4100 free d/ls now. Great first day, Cathy!!”

At 10:25 pm: 4439...

12:35 am: 5100...#29 Top 100 Free Kindle ebooks

Next day: 7220 downloads

     By the end of the 48-hour freebies, at 11:15 PM: 9300 downloads. Almost 10,000 people have my book in their hands! Emily is touring the US, the UK, and Germany.

     But it doesn’t stop there, and this is where it gets really interesting. Here are Cheryl’s messages one day later:

“75 sales” – then “118 US sales so far, 27 Kindle Owner’s Lending Library borrows” – then “You’re averaging 100 US sales a day this month. You have 300 sales so far, and today isn’t over yet” – then “You now have over 500 US sales. Congratulations, Cathy! This is very good! It’s only the 4^th (of March)—and early. Your rank is just under 400” (398 to be exact).

     By the 7^th of March, I have over 700 sales.

     I KNEW my audience was out there! And once they tuned in, I thought they would like my characters, my setting, the puzzles I laid out for them. Maybe even the social justice issues I wanted them to think about. The traffic has slowed a bit since then, but The Bridgeman is still selling more than before. I am determined to keep this momentum going, at whatever speed.

     I might just leap on top of my roof and holler at the moon to spread the word. Until that sort of thing works, however, I’ll follow my publisher anywhere, including KDP Select, while I tweet, facebook, link, google....