To Write Is The Thing

This past weekend, I got a big shock, a sad shock: one of my favorite indie writers, Ben Willoughby, is hanging up his pen. He’s taking down his Twitter profile and pulling his books off of Amazon. I encourage you to get his books while you can — you won’t be sorry. He’s a doggone good writer.

Buy Ben’s  Books!

For nearly 5 years, I’ve been an independent author/publisher. And I’ve had a blast. I’ve loved every day of the adventure.

However, along the way, I’ve seen writers drop out for sometimes unknown reasons. None of those writers were bestsellers, and perhaps the lack of financial reward convinced them that they had better things to do with their time. And that is a decision only they can make.

In the end, the writer himself or herself has to decide if telling stories is worth the effort or not.

In the case of Mr Willoughby, I’m very sad that there will be no more new books from him. But I have to respect his decision that his time can be spent better in other pursuits. After all it is his time and not mine.

But it is just a tad frustrating for me as a reader, when a good writer, such as Mr Willoughby, quits writing, leaving the field to writers who are much inferior. Writers who are often on the bestseller list. Which completely baffles me, by the way. How does a mediocre at best writer get people to buy his or her books by the truckload? In a world full of unfair things, that is perhaps one of the most unfair. Mr Willoughby should be on the bestseller list, and it is very sad that he is not.

For me, though, writing is the thing. I cannot imagine any other life. And at my age I have lived a life or two. I hope to heaven, I die with a pencil in my hand putting words on paper. And that after I crossover, I pick up that pencil and continue writing.

As I’ve noted before, I don’t make much money at this. Last month was the best month I’ve had in a year. I made 30 bucks and change. And there are better writers than I, who don’t even make that much. Which is a very sad commentary on those of us who are readers.

In some ways, I see myself like the old prospector in the movies panning for gold and hoping to strike it rich. If I don’t keep at it, I definitely won’t get rich.

On the other hand, is such a pittance worth all the effort? I can only answer for myself, and that answer is yes.

From 2001 to about 2013, I actively published my poetry. And I did it the traditional way, submitting to print and online magazines. I was fortunate enough to achieve a bit of renown, and to pick up an award or two, and even pick up a couple bucks.

The truth is there is no money in writing poetry. Yes, there is the exceedingly rare individual who for a short period of time is popular enough to make some money. But that popularity doesn’t last and the person fades away.

Writing poetry is truly a labor of love. You have to find satisfaction in something other than money. And for over 10 years I did. But then I felt I needed a bigger canvas on which to work, and as I was nearing retirement I wanted to live my dream of writing fiction full-time. And I am living my dream. I write full-time. I just don’t make a full-time income.

Once I realized that in order to make money at this writing gig I needed to have money, money for websites, money for bookcovers, money for various services, money for advertising, I realized that unless somebody took me under his or her wing and promoted the heck out of my work I was not ever going to get on the bestseller list. Because I just don’t have money to risk on the business end of self-publishing. I’m retired and on a fixed income.

Reality sucks, but realizing what reality is has helped me to adjust my attitude from fantasy to something more realistic. 

And I am content, at least for now, at where I am at. I don’t have money to pour into advertising, I don’t have the money to get fancy-schmansy bookcovers like the bestselling guys have, I don’t have money to pay other people to do all the stuff that I don’t want to do just so I can spend all of my time writing. I am a one man band and I have to live with that reality.

And I am okay with it.

But if other writers do not want to put up with the crap and decide that they have other things they would rather do then spend hours producing work that virtually no one buys — I cannot blame them for leaving writing behind. After all who wants to do a thankless job forever, especially if you have other things on your bucket list that you want to do?

I am just sorry to see the good ones go, because that leaves me just a little bit poorer.

I wish Mr Willoughby well. I am thankful that I got to know him, that I have his books on my Kindle app, and that I can reread them at my leisure.

Now you can do him a favor by buying his books and giving him a nice goodbye present. You won’t be sorry. He’ll be gone and you will still have his wonderful books.

Buy Ben’s  Books!

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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From Reader to Writer

Readers become writers when at some point they say to themselves, “I can do that.”

Or they just know the writing life is for them. An intuitive sort of thing.

With the advent of viable e-books, a new breed has risen up. I call them the gold rush writers. They see writing as a get rich quick scheme. And there are quite a few who are making significant piles of money. But as with most prospectors in the gold rush, most writers aren’t making those piles of money. In fact, it’s the middle man who is: the man who sold shovels to prospectors, and the ones selling covers, and formatting and editorial services to writers.

For myself, I cannot remember a time when I didn’t read. My mother read to me when I was young, and, even though she wasn’t a very good reader herself, she instilled in me a love for reading that has never left me.

Along with never remembering a time I wasn’t reading, I don’t remember a time when I wanted to be anything but a writer.

Unfortunately, my parents were of a practical bent and writing was just too dreamy and artsy-fartsy for their tastes. I got no encouragement from them to write.

However, a person who truly wants to write can’t be held back and I did write some during my school years, got one or two things published in the school lit mags, had a play produced in high school, a poem published in a fanzine, and that was about it.

After school, life and family responsibilities took over and the writing got pushed to the back burner.

The bug, though, had bitten and in 1989 I wrote my first novel, a mystery, Festival of Death. The book took me a year to write, but I wrote it. When finished, I sent it out, got a rejection slip, took another look at it, and decided it needed work, as most first novels do, and put it in the drawer.

I made a few more attempts at fiction. Had one or two pieces accepted in fanzines. And then switched to poetry.

Never in a million years would I have thought of myself as a poet, but it was via poetry that I found my initial writing success.

During the 1990s, and into the new century, I wrote several thousand poems, had hundreds published (mostly in e-zines), and eventually became a “name” in the small world of English language Japanese-forms (we’re talking about haiku, tanka, and renga).

The Internet is fragile and its content ephemeral. What is here today, is gone tomorrow. And most of my published poetry is no longer extant. The myriad of pixels have vanished. The e-zines are gone.

As I approached retirement age the fiction bug bit me again, but this time very hard. Poetry didn’t provide a big enough canvas anymore. I wanted the space a short story or novel provided. I wanted to create interesting characters and saddle them with impossible problems.

And so it was, I gave up poetry and returned to fiction. I had many false starts. Mostly because I thought I had to outline my novel. And I can’t outline worth a darn. When I finally learned there was such an animal as the “plotless” novel, and such a creature as the pantser — I knew I could finally write fiction. After all, I never planned my poems. I was a pantser poet. Why not a pantser novelist?

I never looked back. My first novel as a pantser was a monster of 2000+ pages. A sprawling cozy catastrophe completely un-publishable as originally written — it nevertheless broke the ice.

I’m now revising and publishing The Rocheport Saga as a series. There are currently seven volumes, with more to come.

Next was Festival of Death. I love Tina and Harry and couldn’t let them languish. I hauled the original manuscript out of the drawer, kept the first chapter and the ending, and rewrote everything else. A much, much better novel the second time around, I went ahead and self-published it. And have chronicled many more adventures of Tina and Harry, Tina being Minneapolis’s most unusual private eye.

The life of Lady Grace Hay Drummond-Hay is every feminist’s dream. I don’t understand why no one has written her biography. A fascinating woman who lived in fascinating times: the period between the two world wars. A prominent and well-known journalist in her day, it’s sad to see she is virtually unknown today.

She became the inspiration for my own Lady Dru alternative history novels. Of which I currently have two.

I’ve always loved horror and have several short stories and the Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation series published.

And as long as I have breath there will be more ideas coming from my pen, and that makes me want to jump out of bed every morning and get to work.

The e-book revolution has allowed me to realize my dream. I’ve had enough rejection slips in my day to know I don’t like them — and to know they come from the subjective whim of another person, a person who just so happens to have the title “editor”. But a person who puts his or her shoes on the same way I do.

Editors aren’t infallible, nor are they omniscient. They make mistakes and their knowledge of the marketplace is limited. Most are in fact simply buyers for their publishing houses. And as such tend to be very conservative and not willing to take any chances.

Today’s e-book revolution puts the work of writers before readers — and lets us readers make the decision concerning a book’s future.

However, while writing is easy for me, marketing is a nightmare. And no writer hoping to get his or her work read can avoid marketing. Somehow we writers have to get our books before readers. And we readers will never know a book is out there unless someone tells us it is. There are just too many books for us readers to possibly know them all.

I once read that 3000 new books appear each day on Amazon. Amazon, however, only promotes those books on which it can make money. In the end, those are darn few. Most books, therefore, languish in Amazon’s dusty book basement. And many good books, sad to say, are sitting on those dusty shelves.

Why are good books not seen? Mostly because the author isn’t marketing them, or isn’t marketing them effectively.

Some authors believe in the magic wand. They say, “I’m a good writer and my friends like my book. It’ll sell.” Then they’re disappointed when it doesn’t. And it doesn’t sell because too few people even know it’s out there. One book in a sea of millions is the same as one needle in a haystack. There are no magic wands.

Marketing is difficult. It has few established rules, involves a lot of guesswork, and many years of experience. It also takes money. Maybe not a lot. But if a writer doesn’t have the money, then any amount is a lot.

I’m in that category. I don’t have a lot of disposable income. Therefore, I have to think harder and smarter about marketing. I just can’t throw money at the problem in the hopes of finding a solution. And I know there are no magic wands. I am going to have to do something to get people to find my books. And I want them to find my books. I want more readers. I think my books are good reads. Others think so, too. Those that have found them, that is.

IMO, Patty Jansen has laid out the best course for indie authors to follow if they want readers and would like to make a living from telling stories. It’s my plan to get more readers and hopefully make a few bucks while I’m at it. Art for art’s sake is fine. But it’s better if lots of people can appreciate it — and that takes marketing. And while I’m at it, you can find all my books here.

Even though I’ve moved from reader to writer I’m still a reader. Reading is my favorite form of entertainment. The number of books is endless, they’re fairly easy to find, and one can read anywhere and at anytime.

Currently, I’m reading the delightful Flaxman Low occult detective tales and Seabury Quinn’s Jules de Grandin stories.

Let me know what you’re reading. And the more obscure the book, the better! If the book is by an indie author, and I like it, I’ll give the author a little free publicity.

Comments are always welcome, and, until next time, happy reading!

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