Sounds like an advertising campaign, doesn't it? It's actually the message of an article by Annette Fix , the editor of WOW! (Women on Writing). My friend and writer, Greg Allen, who is keeping his angel-eyes on marketing avenues pour moi, sent me this article about getting online book reviews...which, it appears, will be critical for me, since we're still waiting for the ARCs less than two months before book launch day.
(Can you hear me gnawing on my fingernails?)
The article by Fix is a great resource for writers. I hope it will be of value to other writers who need reviewers. Thanks, Annette, for the compilation of sources.
This is a scary time for me, I'm not kidding you. I feel as though I'm not in control of this process, try as I might to get my ducks in a row before the book launch. I'm getting reassurances from my publisher, which is nice, but I'm discovering a (possibly inherent) proclivity for panic that is screwing with my sleep habits, which used to number one, and rhymed with "sleeps like a drick."
Add to this mounting anxiety the unrelenting notion that I am experiencing this all alone. ALONE, people. Because, frankly, there aren't many writers who comment on my blog (though I do have StatCounter, which tallies my visits, so I'm pretty sure you're out there reading...), and I've been searching, surfing, and row boating my way through the internet, and have found not one blog about publishing a debut novel with a small press. I've found several websites by established authors and debut novelists with big-name publishers--and they're delightful--but not sites by authors who can commiserate with, or at least validate, my anxiety.
Enough negativity! (But I would really like to hear from you out there...)
On a happy/weird note, I'm reading four novels at once. Barbara Kingsolver's Lacuna, T.C. Boyles's The Women, Allison Winn Scotch's The One that I Want, and Jenny Nelson's Georgia's Kitchen. Very different books with their own pace and charm, but it just so happens that the fall semester begins next week, and I have these four books left to read. I'm cramming like a college freshman. Also, it leaves less time to worry about the progress of the publication of SONG.
Showing posts with label waiting for publication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waiting for publication. Show all posts
Monday, August 16, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
May is ARC month
Two News Alerts
One: I've been going through a little dry spell lately, and that shouldn't happen in this spring-y season. Okay, so maybe it's not so newsworthy, a writer expressing self-pity. But I've read my old stand-bys for inspiration, and I'm feeling too small for this world.
Perhaps it's because the semester's over and I need a brain-break from grading 60 research papers. Then there are my son's graduation announcements that I have yet to address and stamp and mail. And I'm sure there's a room in this old house that needs a new coat of paint. This procrastination is not normal for me. But this past week, I've been dry dry dry whenever I sit down to write the latest novel chapter. I should write a desert scene. Pity party over.
Thank you, Daniel, for your comment from the other side of this small world. What is your website?
Two: the Advanced Reader Copies are, according to Blooming Tree Press, being laid out this month. The ARCs are being laid "at this moment." Very sexy indeed. I'll be receiving many copies to give to reviewers already on my list and to "influential" friends. Where are you, my influential angels? Call me, leave a comment, or email me. Where is Oprah when you need her?
Three: (I've just decided there's more.) I'll be posting little snippets of the novel to entice you to order the darn thing early. Stay tuned!
One: I've been going through a little dry spell lately, and that shouldn't happen in this spring-y season. Okay, so maybe it's not so newsworthy, a writer expressing self-pity. But I've read my old stand-bys for inspiration, and I'm feeling too small for this world.
Perhaps it's because the semester's over and I need a brain-break from grading 60 research papers. Then there are my son's graduation announcements that I have yet to address and stamp and mail. And I'm sure there's a room in this old house that needs a new coat of paint. This procrastination is not normal for me. But this past week, I've been dry dry dry whenever I sit down to write the latest novel chapter. I should write a desert scene. Pity party over.
Thank you, Daniel, for your comment from the other side of this small world. What is your website?
Two: the Advanced Reader Copies are, according to Blooming Tree Press, being laid out this month. The ARCs are being laid "at this moment." Very sexy indeed. I'll be receiving many copies to give to reviewers already on my list and to "influential" friends. Where are you, my influential angels? Call me, leave a comment, or email me. Where is Oprah when you need her?
Three: (I've just decided there's more.) I'll be posting little snippets of the novel to entice you to order the darn thing early. Stay tuned!
Monday, May 18, 2009
The Waiting Game
I had a creative writing professor who taught me a valuable lesson as a grad student:
One day, after receiving the thrilling news that my short story had been accepted by a literary mag, I told said professor (with some measure of pride and swelled chest) about this achievement.
He exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke and said, "So? Old news. What are you writing now? Cause that's all that matters."
His words popped my bubble right quick. But I got the picture. You can be proud of publishing a story, but if you're not already working on or finishing the next story, that bliss doesn't last long. You can't say you're a writer if you're not writing. (Except if you're Cormack McCarthy, who I heard can go for months or years without writing a word.)
My topic is supposed to be "the waiting game." I'm waiting for my first novel to be published. I've been waiting for a year and a half now. Things are coming along at the press, and I knew it would be a while before I could carefully plan to nonchalantly pass my novel at Barnes and Noble and exclaim, "Oh my goodness! What do you know. My book!" to the admiring passersby. So I wait. And occasionally bug my wonderful publisher with a coy email. I guess I might be hoping for a reply from her that says something like, "Hey, we've decided to publish your novel earlier than planned. It's coming out next week!"
So I wait, but because I remember that plume of smoke and that unimpressed drawl, "What are you writing now," I'm trying to slug my way through my next novel. Today I'm on page 223. It's summer vacation, I'm officially off duty at the university, and I should be tearing through the pages in this next manuscript. And some days I do. But every day--EVERY day--my heart is still pining for that first novel. Waiting to see it come of age in public, where it will be praised or excoriated, but there, standing on its own merit, outside the protection of my imagination or will. Now, back to the present, the only thing that really matters.
One day, after receiving the thrilling news that my short story had been accepted by a literary mag, I told said professor (with some measure of pride and swelled chest) about this achievement.
He exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke and said, "So? Old news. What are you writing now? Cause that's all that matters."
His words popped my bubble right quick. But I got the picture. You can be proud of publishing a story, but if you're not already working on or finishing the next story, that bliss doesn't last long. You can't say you're a writer if you're not writing. (Except if you're Cormack McCarthy, who I heard can go for months or years without writing a word.)
My topic is supposed to be "the waiting game." I'm waiting for my first novel to be published. I've been waiting for a year and a half now. Things are coming along at the press, and I knew it would be a while before I could carefully plan to nonchalantly pass my novel at Barnes and Noble and exclaim, "Oh my goodness! What do you know. My book!" to the admiring passersby. So I wait. And occasionally bug my wonderful publisher with a coy email. I guess I might be hoping for a reply from her that says something like, "Hey, we've decided to publish your novel earlier than planned. It's coming out next week!"
So I wait, but because I remember that plume of smoke and that unimpressed drawl, "What are you writing now," I'm trying to slug my way through my next novel. Today I'm on page 223. It's summer vacation, I'm officially off duty at the university, and I should be tearing through the pages in this next manuscript. And some days I do. But every day--EVERY day--my heart is still pining for that first novel. Waiting to see it come of age in public, where it will be praised or excoriated, but there, standing on its own merit, outside the protection of my imagination or will. Now, back to the present, the only thing that really matters.
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