The other day fellow author and friend Anny Cook blogged about the decrease in sales and whether or not it’s worth continuing to bust your butt to put out stories that people just aren’t buying.
Like Anny I began tracking my sales in a spreadsheet at the beginning of the year. Let me just say sales aren’t what they used to be. I didn’t write as many stories as I had last year, but it shouldn’t make a difference. Everyone said you need a backlist. Well, I have one – 25+ books long.
I do have two books that sell well – Adrift and Gettin’ Lucky. Two different publishing houses and two different stories. So why do they sell so well? Beats me.
Then yesterday I received 4 reviews for 3 different books. The first one was really good for Hit Me. The next three came hours later and within minutes of each other. Each was not so great. Hit Me, Chasing Forever and Just Another Rainy Day. So maybe it’s my writing. Maybe because I’m not grieving as much I’ve lost something in my ability to write a decent story. Could be I’ve lost my mojo. ;o) Whatever the reason things are not panning out the way I thought they would by now.
I couldn’t write full time if I wanted. Where I once made $500 a month I’m lucky if I get $100…and that’s from 4 publishers. I want to be able to spend more time with my new daughter. I’d like to quit my day job, but again, the money just isn’t there right now.
So where does that leave me? To focus more on my non-fiction writing. It’s more productive and lucrative. I’m going to finish the one book I’m writing because it’s contracted. Not sure how long I’ll be on hiatus. At least until the writing bug strikes me again or I feel I just have to write.
I’ll continue to blog here if I have something to write about or something worthwhile to share.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
99 cent price point issues, pro and con
But I do wonder about the affects of the 99 cent price point on authors and the industry as a whole.
For an author, positives include: (my 2 cents)
1. The ability to lure new readers to your body of work/s in greater numbers using the low price as teaser;
2. The ability to launch a series with a sweet intro price.
For literacy in this country and the sales of books overall, the preponderance of 99-centers means more people may be induced to read.
THIS is a huge benefit in a country where education funding is being cut like Lady Gaga's last wild outfit--and illiteracy rises at an alarming rate to more than 20% of the population!
But what are the negatives of the 99 cent phenomena?
I worry that the 99 cent price point will so enthrall readers that this becomes a challenge to the entire industry, digital, print, self and traditional in that fewer and fewer readers want to pay more for a work.
While the economy--and Standard and Poor's latest jab at its own country--inspires more authors to price their works this way, truly the amount of time and effort that goes into writing something dynamic and viable (then editing it and formatting) demands a higher price point for many works. Few authors can afford to keep bargain basement prices for their works. Nor should they.
Volume sales, certainly, may more than make up for modest royalties of any initial 99 cent release, in terms of an author's earnings.
Diversity of types of works "on the shelves" also increases as self-pubbing becomes easier to format and file into various third party vendors.
What are your thoughts on this 99 cent surge?
Have you bought books at this price range and discovered new authors?
What compelled you to do that?
And have you subsequently purchased other works by that author at a higher price?
Friday, August 5, 2011
New Release.
It was sort of a last minute decision...
I decided I'd no longer waste all my short stories. Kindle makes it easy to publish them. The Artist is an erotic short, only $.99,
but I have an entire collection of short stories sitting in my file drawers that I'm going to begin to upload - a lifetime's worth, some erotic, some funny, some just plain old what we used to call literary fiction.
Ought to be very interesting.
Isn't the cover the best! Many thanks to Winterheart Design.
but I have an entire collection of short stories sitting in my file drawers that I'm going to begin to upload - a lifetime's worth, some erotic, some funny, some just plain old what we used to call literary fiction.
Ought to be very interesting.
Isn't the cover the best! Many thanks to Winterheart Design.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
It's Still Thursday!
I'm again falling back on the "better late than never" theory of blog posting!!
Congratulations to my fellow scribes for all of their recent, wonderful successes!! Print books, new contracts, jumping into the world of self-publishing, you ladies ROCK!!
I'm excited about the upcoming release of Matt's Return! It will be available at Resplendence Publishing next Wednesday, August 10th.
After four years of college, three months of intense job searching, nine in-person interviews at which she heard that either she was 'over-qualified' or 'lacked exceperience', my daughter got a job in her desired field yesterday!!!!!!!!!!! There is MUCH happy dancing going on in our family!
Have a wonderful weekend!
Tessie
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
I got my money's worth out of the month of July!
Its already August and I’m still reeling from the month of July. Normally a month can pass in a flash but this July was so action packed and filled to the brim with a little of everything that I actually felt time slowing down for the first time, in a very long while.
In July I got a lot of good news and many beautiful events took place. There were several weddings, new children were born, and I had a chance to travel and reconnect with old friends I love.
At an outdoor firework display, I weaseled my way to the very front where the fireworks were lit because I always wanted to get as close as possible to watch. I was so close this year that a few times I had to lay flat on the grass because it looked as if the rocketing fireworks were headed directly at us when they launched. I did scream, but in a good way. It was really exciting. I’ve never seen fireworks that close from that angle. I know it’s a very bad pun but it was a blast!
Two loved ones I was very worried about both got surprising reprieves from their doctors. Throughout most of June my father and I spent hours on the phone preparing for his demise. I was very scared I was going to receive bad news last month that would signal the beginning of the end. Instead in mid-July we got an all’s clear from my father’s doctor and a little more time together. A dear friend who had been seriously ill got good news as well and it felt as if the universe was letting us all up for a breath of air. A sense of joy and relief reigned.
My wedding anniversary and birthday are both in July. I have a long running tradition that every birthday, I challenge myself to try something new that’s outside my comfort zone. One not-long-ago-birthday I promised myself I would learn to type and start writing. Another I walked into a body-piercing saloon and got pierced. An earlier year I raced along a series of steep fire roads that stretch across the Santa Monica Mountains from morning to nightfall, by myself just to know I could still do it.
By comparison this year will sound pretty tame. I’d never taken a yoga class in my life. I’ve been carefully avoiding yoga all these years because I was certain I would be bored out of mind and hate it. I went to the yoga class on my birthday and left class trembling, sweaty and tear-streaked with gratitude. I cried cathartic tears holding some of the deeper stretches and felt very grateful I took the class. I loved it and I’ve been in a yoga class every other day since.
In July I completed and turned in two short fiction projects. Now the waiting begins… I’m keeping myself busy working on several longer WIPs.
I saw a lot of movies in July, more than I usually see because an ingenious local theater has started dropping prices on slightly older movies, which means we get a second chance to see everything on a big screen, at bargain prices.
We saw “X-Men First Class” The other day and I absolutely loved it. I was totally surprised because I went into the theater with low expectations. X-Men First Class was so well written and acted. It beautifully explains the X-men mythology. During the beginning of the movie both my husband and my son whispered at the same moment. “This is the best X-Men ever!” Warning this X-Men isn’t for the little kids in the group. There are a lot of adult themes going on. One is a gripping scene in the beginning where young Erik (The future Magneto) is the Jewish victim of a very cruel experiment overseen by a Nazi doctor played by Kevin Bacon who makes a AAA villain. Kevin Bacon is fantastic and speaks the first ten minutes of the film in flawless German with subtitles. There is a lot of conflict, guilt and shame dropped on poor Erik’s character, which sets us up perfectly for a complex, messed–up and exciting-as-hell adult Erik played by Michael Fassbender.
I’m a new fan of Michael Fassbender. I think this handsome 34 year old German/ Irishman is one the most exciting actors with depth to come along in a while. You may have already seen Fassbender cast in starring roles as Lt. Archie Hicox in “Inglourious Basterds”, the newest version of Jane Eyre or playing the part of Stelios in “300”. Good news is there’s more to come. He’s been cast to play the pioneer psychologist Carl Jung across from Viggo Mortensen as Sigmund Freud in David Cronenberg’s upcoming film “A Dangerous Method”. I predict Michael Fassbender will play James Bond someday. He’d be perfect.
There was so much that was good about July, I hope August can equal it.
XXOO Kat
Monday, August 1, 2011
A taste of my new Regency cherry?
This one, LADY STARLING'S STOCKINGS, is on Amazon Kindle right now. Soon to be up on B&N Nook, and AllRomanceEbooks.com, the book is priced at 99 cents and is my strategic move to see if 99 cents really does make all boats rise!
Here is the summary and the nibble for you:
Copyright 2011, Cerise DeLand. All rights reserved.
BUY LINK:
Lady Solange Starling has a special skill. But catching spies within her cousin’s embassy has never presented a challenge…until now.
One moonlit evening in a garden, Solange views a daring man she has not seen in years. A man she never forgot. A man, who even in his youth, carved his place in her life and her reverie.
Monsieur Noir, he calls himself. And so he is, a man living in shadows, dark and dangerous to her heart. As the two of them join together to weed out the nemesis who attempts to destroy their fight against Napoleon, Solange and Noir learn how rich grand passion can be.
Once more, they fight against cruel fate to give them what they most desire. Each other. Free of torment and loss. Free at last to love.
Naples, Italy
September 30, 1815
Lady Solange Starling adjusted her mask and gazed out over the assemblage at the British Embassy, searching the ballroom wearing a blasé smile–and with a determination fraught with frustration.
Where, oh, where are you, Monsieur? Dinner is done, the dancing is about to begin and I am bursting with news and questions!
Among the pale flocks of British ladies and somber olive-skinned Italian matrons, Solange wove her way through the throng to find her contact. Out of courtesy, she had to stop here and there often to permit the gentlemen who approached to kiss her hand, murmur greetings and attempt to charm her. Despite her ostrich-feathered mask, these diplomats and naval officers, both English and Italian, knew her curvaceous figure, her love of fashion–and her noble English name. They knew she was wealthy and half French. And all that they knew came from two sources–her reign over the haute ton in London as Lord George Starling’s young bride and his widow, plus her previous visit here at the embassy to her cousin and his wife. On Solange’s first sojourn to Naples three months ago, she had accomplished her mission to find the traitor who turned out to be her cousin’s naval adjutant. And she had done it within days of sailing into port.
Now, given the threatened return of Napoleon’s brother-in-law Murat here to reclaim his throne of Naples, her newest task was greater and more urgent. And my contact? Monsieur de la Guerre? Where is he?
“My lady, Solanj-a,” the Neapolitan prince of D’oro crooned in his heavily accented English. “I am so happy to see you have returned to us here in Napoli.”
“Va bene, Your Highness, how could I stay away?” She flirted with the eagle-eyed naval officer, using a gay tilt to her head and a flash of her eyes. A man notorious for his spendthrift ways and frequent bouts with the pox, Prince Giorgio peered at her with a salacious intensity before letting his gaze scan down her figure.
“Have you had the opportunity to shop yet in the main piazza, cara mia?”
“You remember well my little amusement to keep my modiste rapidly sewing, dear Prince.” She pursed her lips and allowed him to savor the sight.
“I wish to learn more about you than your preference for the richest fabrics, my lovely bird,” he said, his tongue sliding across his lower lip.
“Now, now,” she teased him, tapping her fan on his arm and walking toward terrace. With a sideways look, she led this man on as she did all men. She had no one in her bed. Had invited no one since her elderly husband passed on to his grave reward five years ago. And though she longed for a spectacular lover to fill her body and obsess her mind, she had spotted no candidates who matched her exacting ideals. Until such a specimen of manhood appeared and could match one unforgettable champion she’d met half a lifetime ago, she would remain alone in her bed by night and at her espionage by day. “Though I confess, I would love to shop for a few yards of Venetian lace.”
“For a camisole?” he asked, his gaze afire with hunger. “Do you need one? As creamy as your skin? I will order one made!”
“You are too kind. I would not trouble you. But alas, I am so occupied, Your Highness. You must have heard that I did come this time to help my cousin’s wife after her recent lying-in.”
“You should have a child of your own.” He grabbed her hand.
His own was clammy, and Solange bore with the cool sweat like a seasoned soldier of the Cold Stream Guard.
“You are so lovely, so well formed…what is the English word? Endowed? I am certain God has blessed you with the ability to bear many children, bella mia.” His thin black brows wiggled high while his arm circled her waist and he pressed his fingers to the side of her breast.
She smiled serenely, the lascivious cuss. Then she picked up her pace. She would tempt him, but she would not bed him. Her stock in trade was her own sensual allure. Without her golden looks and her acute perception, without her sloe-eyed sensuality that she never tamped, she would not have become one of Home Department’s most accomplished spies. She enjoyed the chase and she would not stop intriguing men. Not now. Not when victory over the last of that tyrant Bonaparte’s men was soon to come. Not when that victory depended on her rooting out the French operative who had burrowed himself so deeply into her cousin’s diplomatic staff that he threatened the peace of Europe with his nefarious presence. “You are too complimentary, Your Highness.”
“Never! Beauty such as yours blossoms, I am certain, when a seasoned lover teaches you the delights you so richly deserve.”
Forward fart. She forced her muscles to relax.
“I would show you my newest mill. On the road to Roma.”
They descended the terrace steps, and Solange purposely stopped at the entrance to the maze. She would not offer him any solitude in which to accost her.
“I purchased it two weeks ago.”
“So recently?” She marveled that these Neapolitans changed sides so easily. “Are you not concerned that Murat’s spies lurk on the road to Rome?”
“Murat has lost all friends among us. He is a nasty cat, one day with his brother-in-law, one day with the Austrians and you British. Forget politics, lovely Solanj-a.” He caressed the side of her breast and she fought the urge to box his ears. “Come with me in my carriage to view my fabrics.”
“Ah, Your Highness, tempting surely.” To go out with this lecher alone in his carriage would cause all kinds of a scandal. Yet Solange needed to discover if Giorgio was simply dedicated to her seduction or if he wished to glean information about her cousin and the British naval blockade of the city. After all, Giorgio had been a close friend of the naval attaché whom she had put to ground three months ago. Plus she had seen Giorgio only an hour ago in hot discussion in one corner with a French émigré whom she suspected of collusion with the Bonapartists. “But you know I must not disappear with you alone. My family, my friends. Why, you must imagine how they would view an afternoon with you.” She widened her eyes and consoled him with a tiny moue.
“Bring your maid, if you must,” he told her, leaning forward.
He came so close she smelled the garlic and onions of his lunch on his breath. Oh, merde. “A charming solution!” Her stomach lurched. She tried not to wince–or inhale the fumes.
“I will show you silk such as you have never seen.”
Silk? The blood in her veins raced. Her favorite. Her fetish.
“From Lucca’s finest worms.”
“Luccan silk.” She repeated like a half-wit. Luccan silk. Reputed to be made from Chinese worms given by Kublai Khan to Marco Polo. “I have never felt it.”
“I will allow you to feel everything.” He grasped her hands and, in his rabid desire, squeezed the blood out of them. “Everything!”
His innuendo was not lost on her. She grimaced, surrendering to her need to investigate his life further.
“Well, Your Highness, I–“
“I will give you all you need, Solanj-a. My silks. More. Come with me for the day, the night–“
A man coughed. Once. Twice. From behind the tall cypresses.
Giorgio’s heavy brows darted together. At once, he hauled her against his wiry body and his very rigid cock. “Ignore him, bella. Tell me you will come–“
Solange stepped backward, brushing the front of her dress. How to deter him politely from handling her like a whore, hmmm?
He took no heed, but flowed toward her, pressing his mouth to her ear–and his lips were as wet as his hands. “I am mad for you, my lovely English lady.”
From behind the tall evergreen next to them, a gentleman cleared his throat.
Their interloper’s intrusions made her suppress a chuckle.
“Your Highness, your offer of the afternoon–“
“Your offer, Your Highness, I might say, is what?”
A booming bass voice surrounded Solange like a villain in a Venetian opera as a man strolled from the bushes. She gasped.
“Wonderful? The lady will consider it and write you tomorrow with her answer.”
Solange stared up at the towering figure before her. Taller than any man she’d ever met. More fit, as well. Dressed entirely in black, save for a flowing white stock, he looked like a devil’s disciple. Even to his rich ebony hair that fell over his brow and the large black velvet mask that covered his eyes and cheeks but not his strong square jaw.
“And who are you to speak for the lady, sir?” Giorgio asked, his lips curled in outrage at this interference.
“I am an old friend of hers from her childhood,” the apparition in midnight hues responded with derision. “I am certain she remembers me. Don’t you, ma cherie?”
* * *
Solange swayed on her feet, her forehead cool, her eyes burning with the sight of the man she had wished to return to her, lo, these fifteen years. Even now moments since Giorgio had stormed off, she was blinded by brilliant memories from her wretched past.
Her man in black swept her into his arms and carried her to a nook in the maze where he sat upon a small stone settee and plopped her on his lap. “I have shocked you,” he said, the back of his hand soothing strokes to her forehead and cheeks. “I meant to be more gallant and introduce myself in a civil manner in the ballroom. But that man intruded. He irritates me to no end.”
She caught her breath, her gaze all over this man whose face she saw within her shattered memories of her parents, Paris and the tumbrils. “Me, too,” she admitted because she knew she could speak to this man plainly as she could no other. “How did you find me? Why…here? Why now?”
His eyes sparked with humor. They were black, brilliant and bold. “I am here to help you, my dear Solange.”
Help? She stilled. Do what? Why would the man who as a youth had once pulled her from the dastardly cart headed for the guillotine appear now? After years in which she thought him dead, how could he help her? He would probably faint if he knew what she did for her adopted country. And for that, she did not require his help but her dear Monsieur de la Guerre’s.
This led her to the more pertinent question. “Where the hell have you been all these years?”
Saturday, July 30, 2011
I'm right behind you, Julia!
I haven't been around for a month or more...
Severe and abject depression...NOT! Snort! Just living with my own stupidity...and that isn't very easy.
I forgot that most editors are working a "real" job, and can only get to your books when they have the time. So after subbing and getting a contract, I now find that my edits will not even begin for another month or so. Sigh.
I adore my editor. Please don't get me wrong. But I have been dormant for so long, I can't wait several months for a book to take shape. It's my own damn fault...I know that. So now I either live with it...or...take the leap.
I am about to take the dive into self-publishing a couple of my books, just to get them out there. And even though several friends have done just that, I find that leap terrifying.
I have several novellas that could be put into publication quickly. I can make myself self-edit as ruthlessly as my past editors. I can make myself toe the line. But stepping out into the great unknown is rough. :P
I have been getting a lot of fan mail asking when my next book is coming out. I know for a fact that authors LOSE readers when they have so few books coming out. You have to stay on that roll. If you do like I did, and let things get you down, and stop fighting, you can easily lose all the ground you've gained.
I think that I will be asking around and checking out possibilities. Any ideas?
Hugs!
Fran Lee
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