Showing posts with label publishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label publishing. Show all posts

Monday, April 08, 2024

Not Short Stories Again!

Yes

As in 2009 and 2016. Both times I had specific goals. This go-around,  I intend to publish and LEARN. To teach this old dog a new trick, I've begun on microfiction (stories 100 words or less) and flash fiction (stories under 1k words).

I've always been enchanted by quantity. This time it shall be the oft-discussed quality. Since beginning last month, I've finished a trio of short fiction and sent it off to three publications. I should start hearing back around the end of spring. But the goal now is to continue finishing stories, trying new techniques and new genres.

Like I probably should've done in 2009.

Reedsy.com



Thursday, December 31, 2020

Thoughts on My 2020


A Land Remembered Journal

2020: I thought last year's post below was pretty comprehensive. Sadly, running—and weight loss—didn't pan out as I'd hoped. Back in November I injured my knees by forgetting everything I knew about chi running and attempting to "boost" my locomotion with extra force. And I'd been doing so well. In October I ran 48 miles for the month—the most since February—including 5 and 6 mile days. I had recovered from my spring Chinese Covid slump enough to enter a Virtual Challenge and was crushing it. Plus my wife and I were signed up for a 10k in Mesa, Arizona slated for February 2021. (We're going to Mesa anyway, just not to run.)

Self-inflicted running injuries are the absolute worst. No one to blame but yourself and I HATE blaming myself.

As for writing, it blossomed as in former days. I finished several short stories, including a whopping 12k word job. Sending them out wasn't resulting in sales, though the rejections were generally polite. So I assembled this year's crop along with stories dating back to 2009 and published the lot—all nine—in ebook form. Death Honk is out now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Kobo, and more. The paperbacks will arrive in January. This is the first fiction book I've published since 2016. I bask in such warm accomplishments.

But writing is only a fraction of the battle for the indie author.

Unlike previous book launches, I obtained a few reviews in advance. Also, unlike previous launches, I bit off a good chunk more than I could chew. By attempting ebook and softcover launches on Amazon and Draft2Digital, I found each platform operates with different rules. So four sets of formatting required attention, eating up time with an appetite most voracious. Because my wife and her vast publishing experience were unavailable—I never interrupt her paying work—I was forced to hunt in the freelance veldt. The woman who proof read Death Honk was outstanding. The man who formatted the print version less so. As mentioned elsewhere, the cover designer rocked. 

No audio version for prostate, but I think that line has been jumped by Death Honk. We shall see how 2021 shapes up. I'd like publish a second edition of Hallow Mass with a new cover, add it to Draft2Digital, then write the second volume. Plan meet life. And for the second time in a paragraph I'll say: we shall see. 

This November marked fifteen years of blogging. Over 2k posts with entries topping 100 for the first time since 2012. Not that my traffic is that hot. But inconsistency carries a cost. I've really come to loath social media. (Do watch The Social Dilemma.) But I should examine which platform provides the most pop sales-wise for an author's effort. 

Canva proved a useful took in developing my own promotional materials. Even a digital butter fingers such as myself was able to figure it out. I highly recommend the website.

I end 2020 in reasonably good health, awash in efforts to publish two separate paperback versions of my anthology and eager to see what the future holds. 

And a Happy New Year to you!


Monday, March 23, 2020

Story Du Jour #8

"Anxiety at the Highest Level!"

Suspense Magazine 
3607 words


 At a high-end publishing house, we learn that time heals all wounds and uncovers all deeds. Nice forshadowing in this pleasant well-written tale.

Here’s a sample of the writing:

“We would meet up in the kitchen around one, have soup and a chunk of bread I’d warmed up, and then we’d go for a long walk. Sometimes we’d walk for two or three hours. Less in the winter months, as we wanted to be home before it got dark. We’d have simple dinners, usually stews, listen to classical music on the radio, and then go to bed. As I said, we were happy. That is, until Gerald was notified that he’d been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. At that moment, he changed. Life became hell. What should have been a most joyful moment in our lives became an absolute misery.”

Tomorrow: horror? Sci fi? I vacillate.

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