Indie Authors: Your Sales are Your Fault

Okay, I had a number of other blogs set to post before this one. But, I just got wind of what appears to be a huge war between select authors and some reviewers. To sum in up, there were probably some snarky reviews written, and there were probably some authors who were not happy about it. The whole thing got ridiculous. I mean, really, it's a mess. As I am not supporting the harassment that has been associated with this reviewer/author war, I am not linking to anything that would drive traffic to further this abuse.

That being said... on to what made me want to write this blog.

There have been a thousand blogs (probably) written about how to take negative reviews. But, this really has little to do with reviews and more to do with what any indie author should expect and their consequential behavior.

I was disgusted when I saw a friend of mine smeared on one of the links I clicked on. I must admit, what she said was a bit snarky... when taken out of context. But, I know her. I've had coffee with her. She is snarky, full of commentary, but completely sane and non-harassing. Her reviews are intelligently written, and she always gives a justified response for why she didn't like a book. And even most of those are accompanied by "it didn't work for me. This doesn't mean it won't work for you." I've put books on my "to-read" shelves that she didn't care for at all. And this is someone who was slandered. I'm a bit baffled.

Let's take this one step further. This reviewer has seen the first couple of chapters of my book. She wasn't impressed. Honestly, I'm thankful for that. Why? Because I know not to dare try publishing it yet!

I can almost guarantee this whole war was started by indie authors. How do I know this? Because the public relations departments at publishing houses aren't going to condone or represent this type of unabashed harassment from their authors.

What You Need To Know:
If you are an indie author, you need to be prepared to not make any money. More likely than not, you will be "in the red" due to all the costs to get a good looking, readable book. This includes money spent on editors, book cover designers, formatting, and whatever else you want to do to make your book beautiful. (Yes, I know it is possible to publish without these expenditures, but let's not get into that.)

So, before you plunge into publishing indie, you need to know that you might lose money on your book.

That's only item #1. Let's continue.

You've heard it before. I'm sure you've had plenty of readers tell you that your book is phenomenal. Then a well-known or well-followed reviewer comes along and gives you a bad review. This makes your sales drop. And for those of us who make money this way, that can be quite a challenging thing to ignore. But, you must. It's called integrity. In today's world of instant access to whomever we want, this is even more important. I have no interest in reading books by authors who have tarnished their own reputation by coarsely disagreeing with reviewers. There are plenty of books out there that are not surrounded by a shroud of sketchiness.

To those of you who only write the "good" reviews, shame on you. In a way, I somewhat appreciate it. But, in a way, you are encouraging crap to continue floating around out there. By posting a bad review, you are not dashing someone's dreams on the rocks. There are ways to post reviews that would be called "bad reviews" but are really critiques on where the author failed to perform.

Did you read that last line thoroughly? It's where authors failed to perform. So the fault is really with the author. Sometimes, this is okay! Really! How can a religious author please an atheist? How can can a YA author please the erotica reader? (Sure... I'm sure you're saying it can be done, but really most authors tend to aim to please their audience.)

I'm not telling you how to take your reviews. You can take them however you want. But, take your complaints and gripes offline and out of sight of other readers. Because, in essence, reviewers are readers and by dashing a reviewer, you are dashing your readers. This is obviously a bad idea. Your sales will surely will drop.

So, to recap point #2: Don't hate on people who took the time to read what you wrote. It comes across as being insecure or entitled. Until you are a household name, don't act that way. Most household names don't act that way, why do you think you can?

Also, authors, if these reviewers wanted to interact with you they would probably go to your blog/website/Facebook/Twitter and make contact that way.

Seriously, folks. Publishing a book does not guarantee sales, and reviewers are not really the reason why your books aren't getting sales. Truth is, most people didn't like your book enough to rave about it. It happens. Get over it. Move on, and get better.

These reviewers may end up being the indie world's version of trad pub's gatekeeper. So, in my experience, getting mad at the gatekeeper doesn't do you any good. If anything, make friends, follow their reviews and figure out what it is that they have to teach you, the author.

As a side note, I really think that this boils down to the fact that indie authors, not all, are getting self-righteous because they have finally figured out a way to say, "screw you!" to the agents and publishing houses that have had control over this industry. Well, guess what, by removing agents and publishing houses, you've only redirected the power from the highly funded marketing super engines into the hands of the readers. Authors will never hold the power... we will always be at the mercy of our readers. Don't forget that.

Considering Behind Closed Doors

I’ve spend a lot of time thinking. I ask a lot of questions, and when I get the answers, I store them in little compartments in my head, all under the title of “someone’s truth”. What people say in any given moment is their reality, at least for that given moment. And to me, these truths (whether they hold any truth to me is irrelevant) are something to be considered.

I think today philosophers would be known as motivational speakers or in some cases as lazy… due to all the time externally doing nothing while mentally running a triathlon. I am a philosopher. It’s one of the things that makes me a great content editor. I spend a lot of time considering. In the time I’ve spend considering, I’ve honed my natural ability to be empathetic.

Empathy is the ability to feel, to experience what someone else is enduring. At times, this can be a heavy cross to bear. Empathy is what makes many people capable of creativity. Think of actors or writers who are able to transplant themselves into some other character for a time. In order to physically portray or to accurately describe this other character, on some level, they must be able to empathize with the character.

 I don’t typically share what goes on in my head or in my personal life, unless it is a matter that really frustrates me or angers me. Because in those moments of heightened emotion, I type out of the words and hit the “post” button before I even calm down long enough to realize what I’ve just said. And afterwards, the words are already out there, and I can’t take them back. And, I think it’s time for a change.



Well-makers lead the water (wherever they like) ; fletchers bend the arrow ; carpenters bend a log of wood ; wise people fashion themselves. - Buddha

My mother was, well she still is, one of the most convincing people I know. She attacks her “truths”, no matter how momentary they are, with an admirable amount of conviction. (She should be a motivational speaker… but that is another story for another day.) She got there by listening to cassette tapes of motivational speakers, mostly in the car and lot of the time with me in it. So, despite my pleas to listen to the radio, I listened to people like Og Mandino or Zig Ziglar. And while she was learning how to be a better salesman and motivate her staff, I was learning how to think for myself and to think with compassion and empathy.

 The reason why this is important is because I see so many people struggling with things behind closed doors. I think it’s time to open those doors and look at what is behind them. Namely, I’m going to try to focus on what goes on behind the doors of artists.

 So, for the first time, I will be doing a series of blogs considering all the many possibilities to get us through those tough times, those times of doubt, and methods we are not supposed to share for fear they might ruin our “platform”.

 If you have any questions you want answered you may comment on the blog. If you want to protect your anonymity, feel free to ask me a question on Twitter @AEWrites via DM. (If I’m not following you, just ask, and I will.) If this question requires a personal response, please make sure you say so; otherwise, it could end up as blog fodder.

 I will consider all the options, and hopefully, one of my answers will help you find a way out.

I like this picture, I like how bright it is on the other side.

Should I Bother Coming Out of the Closet?

I don't know when it happened.

As a writer, this is quite embarrassing. I think I'm a hippie. I mean, at least the stereotyped version of it...minus the illegal drugs.

I don't know what it happened, but this is as close to coming out of the closet that I'm probably ever going to get. I'm coming out to say, I think I'm a hippie. I don't know. Keep reading.

But, this has led me also feel like a conspiracy theorist. I'm starting to believe everyone out there has been misled, misdiagnosed, and misunderstood. And because I am currently on the upside of what has seemed like an endless downhill road, I just want to share it with everyone. But, come on, that's just plain scary. I grew up with an evangelical mother in an evangelic church, I'm definitely worn out on the preaching and "do this and you'll get this" operation. So I'm just going to share.

Which leaves me with this blog. This is the quietest way I know how to "come out".

So, while I don't typically list this as public knowledge, I will share it just this once (and perhaps even take this blog down after it's had its chance to run).

I have a number of health issues.

So here's what I face/faced on a daily basis:
Sciatica - This is basically just a set of symptoms. It encompasses lower back pain that at time can run down into the upper thigh. It's got a lot to do with nerves and pinching. It hurts. Some days it really hurts.
PTSD - Post traumatic stress disorder, became more well known after the Vietnam War. I don't like talking about this because I'm still at a point where it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. But, I will say that it's kind of like having to be forced to relive the most terrifying parts of your life over... and over...and over... and over...
Ovarian Cysts - These are pain. When mine rupture, they bleed all over my stomach.
Undiagnosed - When there's a change in the barometric pressure the insides of my knee caps feel like they are going to explode (I have no idea what this is called, some say it's rheumatoid arthritis).

So, let me paint a picture for you. On good days, my ovaries throbbed with an occasional sharp tinge of pain, and my lower back could be appeased with 800 milligrams of ibuprofen. On bad days.... I'd end up in the ER getting shots of morphine. Granted, the worst days only come 2-4 times a year. But, most of the time, my back is in such bad condition, I can't be in an upright position. You'd find me instead, on the floor with my feet elevated, a heating pad on my gut, and movies playing or reading a book. I was lucky if I could concentrate long enough to read.

And the doctors... OOOOoooohhh, the DOCTORS! They'd look at me like some "little woman" and tell me that I needed to get over these "cramps". Thank God for nurses (female, which the industry is still dominated by). The therapists I'd been to were even worse. Most of them, well all of them except the last one, missed the PTSD. Instead, all my symptoms were divvied out into separate diagnoses... IE borderline personality disorder, depression, and the general anxiety disorder. (Treatments for these didn't work... I wonder why... hmm...) Grr.

In any case, my days were spent generally very angry. I couldn't escape the pain. So, I'd angrily try to get the work that needs doing done. But, still I got behind regularly leaving tons of mess for me to clean up on the occasional "good days". This is a daunting task. This was an unbearable task.

As a result, a few years ago, after a night of crying pathetically in pain, flashbacks streaming incessantly through my head, I stomped into a bookstore and looked at meditation CD's. There is a type of unceasing pain that will drive you to insanity, and I was there. I had reached my breaking point. I didn't care what anyone else thought of me. I'd try anything. Even if I had a preconceived notion that meditation was for crazy people.

I threw myself headfirst into the world of meditation. If nothing else, it was a way to make sure I didn't lose my sanity during a fit of pain. And, so a few years past with that. Then, this last November, I had another cyst rupture. I ended up in the ER, crying and screaming. For almost three months afterwards, I didn't do anything. Then, finally I got tired of laying around and worked a million times harder to control my body despite the pain through meditation. Then, I resumed my typical regime of doing whatever I could until the pain got to be too much. Needless to say, I have a high threshold for pain and it has been ever growing.

But, I still couldn't help but thinking that there had to be something better than just coping! So, in another desperate torrent, much like the one that found me stomping off to buy mediation CD's, I start researching...gasp... alternative healing methods. And suddenly, I find myself where I am now.

I drink various concoctions of apple cider vinegar twice daily, and it is gross. I drink apple cider vinegar. Did you hear me? To me, this is right on par with eating chocolate cake in order to lose weight. It just sounds ridiculous. I can't help it. I think it's nuts. But, it works.

At about the same time, I started trying my hand at yoga. No, not the super impressive circus contortionist kind, nor the kind that is intended to make me look like a goddess in a bikini. I'm talking about the kind that is meditative and focused on helping my back. It's more or less meditation combined with good stretching.

So here I am, meditating, drinking apple cider vinegar, and doing yoga. Oh, and after all my PTSD experience, I try to approach people with patience and kindness. So, yes, I'm all about the love, too.

But, you know what makes this funny... at least to me? I still think it's nuts.

I'm still not sure I want everyone knowing how jaded I am towards average doctors or how jaded I am towards the organized religion that never led me toward a path of alternative solutions.

And I guess that's what happens. As people, we endure something long enough and with enough pain that we become jaded. My problem lies before all this happened, I produced a judgement against the hippie (peace, love, and happiness) cliche. Maybe it was because I never thought it was possible. Maybe it was because I was in a state where those ideals could never exist. But now, I've made them exist.

I'm not perfect. I still get entirely out of whack some days. Some days my PTSD gets the better of me. Sometimes, there's not a yoga class suited for my needs when I need it. Some days, I cannot tolerate the idea of drinking that awful apple cider vinegar.

I wonder, what have I become? Am I now that crazy hippie stereotype I always laughed at and disregarded?

And that is when I return to my keyboard, to my characters, and to my writing. Maybe the answers are there. My books are my escape, and yet are the way I stay grounded. I send this query out to the universe, out to the world... I would love your input, your stories. Should I accept that I am doomed to become a label? Is that something I should learn to accept? And why, why am I so afraid to acknowledge that I'm different? Should I even bother coming out of my closet?

Being A Writer Does Not Make You Right

I haven’t written a blog in a while. This is due to the fact that my usual ranty self hasn’t had much to say. I have given it some thought, and I asked myself what’s been going on in the writing part of my world. This has mainly led me to think about writer decorum.

 As self publishing grows as an industry, I am finding the writer world a less and less savory place. I didn’t expect the voraciousness and self righteousness that comes from slighted authors. At least not on this level.

Let's imagine, let's create - not hate (corny, yeah? I don't care.)

There are a number of authors, mostly self published, that are attacking people who have opinions, albeit negative ones, of the author’s work. That’s right, attacking. I would define “attacking” seeing as people are going to deny that this is even happening, but it has and does. I have no need to point them out further, if you want to find them, look on Amazon for yourself.

This is simply unbecoming behavior.  

On my blog, I ask everyone simply be respectful and to not post unfounded hatred. Have a differing of opinion? Fine. Want to use sarcasm? Great. Snarky personalities are always welcome. But, for the entitled, I-think-I’m-God’s-gift-to-the-literary-world I have 3 words for you. Get over yourself.

 I have had a number of negative responses to my blog, but the fact of the matter is, they are someone else’s opinion, and I choose to respect them. What good would it do if we all wrote and published material that only got decent or good reviews? How would we grow as writers if we didn’t have someone out there telling us ways to improve? If your sales are really that great, then you shouldn’t worry about the handful of naysayers. If your sales aren’t doing that well, then take a look at your work.

 

I'd post pics of hating authors, but don't want to call anyone out.

In no other field will you find a craftsman berating potential clients telling them that they are idiots or not entitled to their opinions. Along with my many other talents, I refinish furniture. If something doesn’t sell, I don’t immediately jump down the throats of buyers saying that they don’t know what they are talking about. Instead, I go back to drawing board. I work harder. I hone my craft. I get better. I study. And then, I make something new. If you respond to downright negative reviews, you are doing nothing but starting a back and forth that is not going to resolve itself. It’s just like name-calling.

I expect this kind of behavior from the spoiled brats of my generation (I apologize on behalf of them). We tend to have this entitlement issue. We think we deserve something just because we exist. We are not willing to work for what is ours. It’s like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum because they didn’t get their sweeties and candies. Really? Not everyone likes your work? Get over it. Someone gave you 2 stars? Get over it. A bunch of people gave you two stars? Hire an editor.

What? You think you are the first writer to have toiled tirelessly over some “great work of fiction” to have your dreams bashed by some reviewer? HA! Don’t make me laugh…

And there is one more thing… these group attacks? Oh, they make me livid. Reading is supposed to open our minds to new things, to expose us to a world outside of ourselves, to help us escape…and yet there are people (generally friends of the writer) out there mass attacking reviewers for having opinions! And I’ve read the reviews under attack, most of them are completely valid. I feel like I’m taking a step backwards into high school and the sheep mentality. Didn’t your parents ever say, “If they told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?” Since when did writers become so cliquey?

This goes beyond writing and professionalism. This certainly crosses the line into being a decent human being and an individual. Please, have some integrity. Integrity is one of the few things that can’t be bought or sold in this world. You cannot ride the coattails of someone else’s integrity. This is not the Salem Witch Trials. Let’s not burn anyone at the stake because one person points an accusing finger. We don’t need that kind of blemish on our profession.



You actions have reactions, make sure they count in the right way.

The Birthday Blog

Today is my birthday. Meaning, a couple decades ago, give or take... my parents were in a hospital waiting for me to make my great debut. Birthdays make me sad. It's always a combination of things, some cliche and some not.

I'm not really that upset that I'm getting older as much as I am that everyone around me is also getting older. My parents are also getting older. I'm at the age my parents were when they were bringing me home from the hospital. My mom was my age once. My parents were in love then.

In six more days, my best friend... who died in '07 would have also been celebrating a birthday.

I saw my dad (and consequently my stepmom, little brother, and little sister) yesterday. They were passing through town. I saw them for a few hours in total. And I miss my dad. We were in World Market, looking at stuff... He made little comments about candy or food that he hadn't had since he was stationed in Germany. And I wanted to know more. I never have really had the chance. Too bad my parents divorced when I was young. Too bad he's always lived so far away. Summers are not enough time to spend with a person.

I guess the visit just happened to fall right before my birthday. I always get sad when I leave my dad.

I also had a great big bomb dropped on me. My dad and stepmom apparently think I'm still a wild child. (Well, at this point, it would be just be considered irresponsible, seeing as I am nowhere close to being a child.) This saddens me. I haven't "partied" for nearly 7 years now. No exaggeration.

I am like every other person out there... in pursuit of my dreams. I've been in the same loving, committed relationship for over 6 years, I cook dinner every night, and pay my bills on time. But, they see me as that kid who never grew up.

I think birthdays are a time when life replays for me. It's probably one of the only days in the year when I take a breath.

I take that one breath, and it seems like the whole year is washing over me. All the terrors and good moments cascade through me. I don't feel responsible to do anything or to get anything accomplished. I reflect. And I wish those that are near me wouldn't expect me to smile and act like everyone else does on their birthday (I'm not referencing you, C-). I wish it was just another day. Just one day where I can be.

I'm not venting. I'm not angry. I'm not even depressed.

I'm just that way you are when you get some inevitable news. You knew it was coming... but you had to wait to hear it.

Also, on your birthday, people treat you better and are nicer. But why aren't people kind year round?

Oh well.

This is all a result of being a writer and having a Beatles mindset: "All You Need is Love".

Stay tuned. There's tons of good wisdom to be extracted from this single blog. Did you catch any of it?

Participation Required

A thought occurred to me today... and it all came from grass and leaves and disaster. Let me sum it up by saying that today I saw a person who was both hard working and polite. He didn't give excuses. And he smiled. It reminded me of when I was that age.

When I was younger, it was easier to set goals and make plans. When I was a kid, I once sold "grow your own" Christmas trees door-to-door just so I could have money to buy my family Christmas presents. I set a goal, and I achieved it. I started and finished more crafts and DIY projects while balancing 4.0 GPA's and my mother's list of chores.

I wouldn't dream of going door-to-door to sell anything now. Maybe because then I was a young and naive entrepreneur. Maybe because the people I was selling door-to-door to weren't my peers.

Those doors used to hold excitement, some rite of passage, some sense of accomplishment that I'd even had the courage to knock. And it's not like I've stopped being happy, but I've stopped pushing. I have goals, but how much do I really work to pursue them? Am I out everyday trying to accomplish it the fervor I did when I was a kid?

And then question hit me: How much am I  actually participating in my own life?
I have goals, but it seems I am on autopilot. I don't have the gumption and courage to knock on those metaphorical doors anymore. I feel more like a turtle that has Eeyore's attitude coming across the finish line. "Well, I'm here, I suppose. Glad someone noticed."

I didn't used to be that way. I got kicked down a lot. I got kicked when I was down a lot. And I honestly cannot remember how I got through it. I try to think what I would have been told.... what advice my elders would have given me. I can't remember.

But, there is one thing I remember... the celebration.

So, I'm going to start participating in my life. So I can celebrate again. When I see any of the people in my life achieve something, be it friends or family or the kids (especially the kids) I make a point to celebrate... to jump up and down and scream and be happy for them in that moment.

Perhaps, if we start to pay attention to our own lives, if we participate in them... maybe then we will feel the excitement and freedom of the celebration again.

I Digress... I mean, I progress!

I know as writers we all have doubts in our abilities. I've heard it more times than I can count. My friends say it, and those who haven't said it are probably thinking it.

The truth is, I have a love for the English language. I have this insatiable desire to use the right word. My guess is that most writer's do, too. However, my love goes a lot further than that. Maybe it's all the literary classes or "literature" that I read, but I think it's somewhat of a gift.

So, on that note, I'm going to start using it. I've helped numerous local friends on college papers and friends' kids on high school papers... mostly resulting in A's. I'm a good teacher. I love helping someone feel confident when it comes to writing papers, short stories, or anything really.

While my grammar is fairly decent**, my content and thematic critiques are truly my strength. I currently hold an Associate of Arts and an Associate of Science. But, I am looking into getting my Bachelor's in English. Chances are I already have most of the classes I need. My two Associates degrees were filled with English classes galore. I guess that's one thing I enjoyed about school, one class can count for several different degrees.

That being said, I hope to turn this blog into something that will truly help other writers. I will perhaps even be displaying some papers, critiques, and short stories that I've worked on or edited.

As it stands, I'm redoing my office. It has been a long and tedious process, but I can't wait to share the results with everyone! I think it may be another 2-3 weeks before that happens, but who knows! Miracles can occur any moment!



(**Disclaimer: There is certainly a difference in the grammar used in colloquial blogger formats and fiction as opposed to critical analysis papers. If you notice any glaring errors feel free to point them out to me.)