Books that I would have never chosen for myself, but that are exceptional pieces of fiction, science fiction, biography, autobiography, and non-fiction. Heck, I’m a member of a book club that sends out incredible books each month. That’s not to say that there aren’t great stories and authors out there. ![]() Or, see the son of a former president make it to the same bestseller list because a political organization bought enough of his books to fill a warehouse. Not only that, but I will typically sit down on the couch with a mug of coffee to catch up with the latest reality television or news and see that yet another vapid reality bimbo has been handed a wad of cash by a publishing house to spend hours on the phone with a ghostwriter, get their glamor shots taken for a book cover, and within a few weeks have “their” book make it to the New York Times Bestseller list. Just order a couple of copies of my books for each store and stick them in the practically non-existent paranormal section of your stores, homie. Really? I’m a writer, not a marketing expert. Like, really? I spent years of my life on this book and you’re… laughing at it? The most frustrating moment was researching the possibility of having brick and mortar Barnes & Noble stores carry my book and finding out that they wanted ME to develop a marketing plan. I think I gave up on social media when I saw a “laughing” reaction to my second book’s ad on Facebook. Sure, creating an ad on Instagram nets you thousands of likes… and no purchases. Word of mouth and reviews are a self-published author’s bread and butter while social media advertising is practically useless. Without the backing of an agent and publisher, with said publisher’s marketing department doing all the heavy-lifting when it comes to letting the reading public know that your book is out in the world, it’s nearly impossible to get the word out. The whole day was heartbreaking in more ways than one.īeing a self-published author is a constant uphill battle. Not only that, but after advertising my book, pushing my book signing, and doing everything I was capable of doing, I had three people show up. My grandmother had preceded them both in September. Three days later, she was gone and three weeks after that, we lost my father-in-law to cancer. On Halloween, 2020, as I stood in my friend Stefanie’s shop, ready to sign books, my mother-in-law was being airlifted to Grady Memorial Hospital, battling a major stroke. Book fairs and speaking engagements were cancelled, investigations weren’t even possible, Paranormal Georgia Investigations dissolved, and worse? Three people I loved passed away. But, a worldwide pandemic changed all of that. I had scheduled a couple of book fairs, my second book was in the pipeline, and I had planned trips to several different haunted locations to write about in my third book, Confessions of a Future Ghost. The year 2020 was supposed to be a fun, different sort of year for me. ![]() Recollections of a Future Ghost was released on my favorite holiday, Halloween. But, I would be lying if I didn’t put out there that a chunk of cash and/or notoriety would have been nice. Granted, it’s not about money, it’s about the art of writing. And, I don’t think I sold enough books to cover my advertising costs. I contacted the local paper, scheduled a big book premiere/signing in conjunction with a ghost tour, did giveaways, advertised on Facebook, Goodreads, and Amazon. When Memoirs of a Future Ghost came out, I did everything I could think of. Writing is actually secondary to marketing, selling, and publicizing my books. As a self-published author, my first job isn’t to write, but to advertise my books. ![]() I realize that I’ve been far too quiet for the last few months. Trying my best to write my first piece of fiction.
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