Big Valley Authors’ Festival

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Last Saturday the Big Valley Authors Festival sponsored by the Hanford Branch of the King County Library was held in the Hanford Mall. Hanford is only an hour and half drive from where I live and many of the authors who came are really good friends.

We were in a great place, tables and chairs all set up for us, but at first the foot traffic was slow. When it picked up I did quite well selling books, talking to people and handing out lots and lots of cards.

One thing I noticed with some of the authors, they didn’t stay with their books, instead they were up and off talking with other authors even when people paused at their table. Afterwards, I heard some say sales were slow.

I’ve written blogs about this on my own site: http://marilynmeredith.blogspot.com if you want to sell your books at a book or craft festival you have to be available to do so. You need to engage people as they pass by and certainly if they are actually looking at your books.

One author came to talk to me and stayed and stayed–I finally told her someone might want to talk to her, she should go back to her table. She left mine, but moved on to the next author. I don’t really understand this behavior.

Before the event began and I was all set up, I made the rounds and talked to each author. I even bought two books. Once the mall opened I stayed behind my table (except for potty breaks and when I was gone my husband was there and he’s very good at talking about my books and handing out my cards–usually keeps people entertained until I return.)

I know I sold a lot more books than most people there–and not because my books are better, but because I was available to talk about them. I even sold a book to a Japanese family who could hardly speak English. They were charming and were excited to meet a “real” author.

I hope they repeat the event next year. The first one, last year, was held in a Veteran’s Memorial Building and it was good too. The difference there was the people who visited came explicitly to see the authors as nothing else was going on that day.

After the event, a few of us went out to eat together–always fun. We had an interesting conversation about author behavior and those we probably will never buy another book from because of rudeness. That will be another blog post.

All in all, it was a great day.

Marilyn

Boy Meets Girl

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By Evelyn David

In Murder Off the Books, Mac Sullivan and Rachel Brenner meet cute. He suspects that her brother is a murderer, which may be a turn-on for some women, just not for Rachel. The scene is set for lots of banter and passive-aggressive flirting. Even the putative couple’ pets have a love-hate relationship. Whiskey, the Irish wolfhound, and Snickers, the butterball feline, snap, hiss, and snarl their way through the book, only to reach a detente (with Snickers on top of the refrigerator and Whiskey eating kitty kibble) at the end.

Making a love connection, in fiction or real life, ain’t easy.

An eHarmony poll reports that 19 percent of married couples surveyed met online. Seems a tad high, but on the other hand, I personally know four blissfully wedded couples who did make their first connection through one of the Internet dating sites. Once you’re out of school, it seems like the opportunity to meet eligible bachelors and bachelorettes is drastically reduced. This may just be a nervous mother talking, but I always figured any man my college daughter met on campus was safe; if she met him in a bar, then I was immediately into hyper-alert, “is this a serial killer,” mode. Okay, I agree that I’m not always completely or even partially sane about my kids’ safety.

But actually where are you going to meet potential suitors? You’re not supposed to date anyone from work (complications, maybe even lawsuits, if you break up). But if you’re spending 10 or more hours a day at your job – it doesn’t leave much time for socializing outside the office.

So if it’s not a bar or the workplace or the Internet, what’s the new scheme for Romeo and Juliet to find each other (and hopefully have a happier ending)?

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog to bring BIG NEWS.

Two fun, quirky, clever mysteries for the price of one! Check out I Try Not to Drive Past Cemeteries, two short stories by Evelyn David now available on Kindle.

Hell on wheels or a psychic in a travel trailer?

Brianna Sullivan gave up her job finding missing luggage for the airlines in order to seek the freedom of the open road. Her first stop? The small town of Lottawatah, Oklahoma. Using her psychic abilities, Brianna takes on a multitude of jobs to earn gas money, help out the local police detective, and direct some troubled souls towards the light. Volume 1 of this series by Evelyn David contains two short stories – I Try Not To Drive Past Cemeteries and Dead But Not Buried in Lottawatah.

Download it today here

Now back to your regular programming.

Speed dating. It’s Nascar for the lovelorn. My son, under pressure from a friend who had recently had a nasty breakup, agreed to join him for this race to find a match. The basics of the evening were simple: 15 men, 15 women. One more criteria: everyone had to have a graduate degree. Interestingly, you didn’t have to be employed, just have a master’s degree or better, to sign-up for a love connection. The women were seated at individual tables, and the men moved from station to station, spending six minutes with each woman to discover if they had enough in common to warrant a second encounter. After the evening, you ranked the six individuals you’d like to see again, and if both parties indicated an interest, the organizers then provided the personal contact info.

My son, in one of his first encounters, asked a young woman what she did the previous weekend. “Slept,” she answered. He tried a different tack. “What do you like to do for fun?” Another simple answer: “Sleep.” Okay, he thought, not much to work with here.

I confess that I met my husband in high school, took him to my junior prom (not by covered wagon as my kids assume), and married right out of college. I’d make the same decision today – but if one of my kids wanted to get hitched right out of school, I’d think they were crazy. So much to see and do before settling down. Times have changed, indeed.

But the old story of “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy wins girl back is timeless.” The only question is whether boy can be dazzled enough in six minutes to warrant a second look.

Stiletto Faithful – what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on (or heard about)?

Marian aka the Northern half of Evelyn David

Murder Off the Books by Evelyn David
Murder Takes the Cake by Evelyn David
http://www.evelyndavid.com

I Heart Boobies

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by Susan McBride

At the moment, I have boobs on the brain.

As I write this, I’m finally home after spending 2-1/2 hours at The Breast Center in West County, getting my annual mammogram and contorting into positions that I’m not sure the Rubberband Man could accomplish very easily. I saw my surgeon afterward, and she did a good old-fashioned exam of my chestal area. It’s something I’m used to now, nearly four years post my lumpectomy. I alternate a mammo with an ultrasound every six months so nobody misses anything (at least that’s the plan!).

When I was diagnosed back in December of 2006, I was considered at low risk for developing breast cancer. I was 42 years old, healthy as a horse, and the only woman in my family who’d had breast cancer was my maternal grandmother. What a difference a few years make. In November of 2007, my maternal aunt was diagnosed and, just recently, my mother. These days, it’s not enough to worry about myself, Aunt Mary, and my mom. I worry about the next generation of girls in my family.

Gulp.

It’s one of the reasons I’m so open about my experience. I know so many women whose lives have similarly been touched by the Big C, and it’s a relief when you can talk about it. Certainly, it’s everyone’s choice whether to keep their journey personal or not, and I respect that. My view is that discussion–and even laughter about some of the crazy aspects of muddling through a diagnosis–makes it seem less frightening and perhaps less of a stigma.

My first time speaking in public about my boobs was at the big Susan G. Komen Survivors Luncheon at the Ritz-Carlton in St. Louis back in April of 2009. Before an audience of 800 survivors and co-survivors, I shared my story. I was told “don’t make anyone cry!” Which I didn’t want to do anyway. I mean, geez, just getting through it, you cry enough. My sense of humor kept me from crumbling, and that’s what I focused on in my talk: seeing the quirky side of things.

More recently, I spoke at the Horizon of Hope Dinner in Edwardsville, Illinois, which raises money for the American Cancer Society and breast cancer research. Again, I shared the crazier aspects of my path from the dark side into wellness. Although it’s never really over for survivors, is it? Someone once told me, “Breast cancer is the gift that keeps on giving,” and I believe it. If it’s not weird aches and pains, it’s anxiety. A survivor-friend and I have decided that cancer leaves a bigger scar on your psyche than on your body.

Before this all happened to me–and to others in my family–I’m not sure I could’ve stood up in front of hundreds of strangers to discuss my boobs. Books, yes. Those have always been easy for me to yak about. But breasts? Not until almost four years ago. When I suddenly shed any modesty. When so many people in white coats from doctors to nurses to rad techs saw my bare chest that I was tempted to unbutton my blouse when I sat down in the dentist’s chair. It kind of got to be a habit.

And I shed my verbal modesty, too. It became way too easy to say “boob” in all kinds of company. I didn’t even blink when one of my rad techs showed up at my book signing in a “Save the Ta-Tas” T-shirt. It’s part of the Culture of Pink.

So I was rather dismayed to read about fundraising bracelets stamped with “I Heart Boobies” being worn in high schools and the adverse reaction to them.

Okay, yeah, it gives teenaged boys something to snicker about (and maybe some of the girls, too). Yes, it probably leads to jokes; but if we think high school kids aren’t talking about boobies anyway, we’re naive. Have you seen what kids watch on TV these days? Or view on the Internet?

For me, it’s a matter of awareness and getting comfortable with the idea that breast cancer–and other cancers–are all too common these days. People are being diagnosed at younger and younger ages. If you make it to 70 now and don’t get cancer of some kind, you’re very fortunate. It doesn’t matter whether you believe the cause is genetic or environmental (or a mix of the two). It’s how things are, and we need to talk about it.

So if having “I Heart Boobies” on a bracelet makes one young woman who feels a lump go see her doctor to get it checked out, it’s worth the snickers and the gasps and the jokes. I don’t know any way to discuss cancer that isn’t uncomfortable on some front. Until you’ve been through it. Then some days you feel like it’s all you can talk about.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month so think Pink! I recently spoke on “Great Day St. Louis” on this very subject. If you’d like to take a look, click here.

I Never Fancied Myself a Romantic Suspense Author, by Misa Ramirez

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I started out writing middle grade fiction (the wonderful Ellis Island time travel story is tucked away somewhere in my study…perhaps to be resurrected one day) and moved on to children’s books. I was teaching at the time, so my head was in kid-land.


But after one fluke sale of a picture book story, I couldn’t sell another kids story to save my life.


Enter Lola.


Every Monday night, I’d been meeting with a friend at a coffee shop, as much to get out of the house and away from the kids (new baby and 4 others at home) as to write. My frustration at the pile of rejections was growing. I decided I needed a change. I decided to write something for adults. It would be fun and sassy, would have swearing and, egads!, sex.

Lola Cruz came to me just like that. It was like she was there all along, just waiting for me to call on her. I like to say she’s my alter-ego, if I were a smart, sexy, Latina detective. 😉 My husband is Mexican and I’ve always loved his culture. The food, the language, the community, the stories and legends, and more. So when I envisioned Lola, she represented my own children in a way.


After the first couple Lola books sold, I was at a crossroads. What to work on next?

I couldn’t imagine not incorporating some cultural element into whatever book I write (funny, since I’m a blonde-haired, green-eyed white girl!). The thing that popped into my mind was the story of la Llorona. La Llorona is kind of like the Bogey Man. It’s a story told to kids to keep them in bed.

That quintessential ghost story, Latino-style. My husband’s family would tell this story at camp outs, just as it had been told to them when they were kids.


I did a little research and learned the roots of the story. It dates back to the Aztecs, interestingly, and from there, four different versions evolved. The story in my head took roots and grew. But la Llorona is a ghost, and not a nice one, at that. My light, sassy voice had to adapt. The only way it would work was as a romantic suspense. I couldn’t see myself spending my entire writing career crafting suspense. There’s enough darkness in the world that I don’t want to write about it, too (light mysteries, like Lola Cruz, and my new cozy series don’t make me feel that darkness, interestingly).


But this story wouldn’t leave me alone. I wrote it. It became CURSED.

Buy Cursed for your Kindle!

Buy Cursed at The Reader Store!


The hero, Ray Vargas, had a brother, Vic. He needed his own story. The other thing that fascinates me is the curandera, a healer. Combine that with the urban legend of chupacabra (a vampire goat-like creature), and the makings of another story began. Same town. Another legend come to life. When I read a real-life account of a tree that had been saved from disease by the chain strung around it’s trunk, I knew I had stumbled upon a crucial and symbolic element.


That book became The Chain Tree.

Buy The Chain Tree for your Kindle!

Buy The Chain Tree at The Reader Store!

They’re out now in e-book form and I’m so excited! I wonder if others will find the legends of la Llorona and chupacabra as fascinating as I do. I hope so! If you have an e-reader, I hope you’ll give them a whirl and let me know your thoughts. I have a third story brewing based on yet another Mexican legend. Who knows, maybe two will become three: The Legends Trilogy.


Now, I have to go buy an e-reader so I can download my own books!


Happy e-reading!


~ MIsa

I’m Scared!

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A recent New York Times article discussed how the typical American parent is more concerned by threats to their children that are unlikely, e.g. terrorism, than threats to their children that are more dangerous and likely, e.g. obesity. That got me thinking: what are the things that I worry about when it comes to my children?

1. I worry that the cleats that I just bought child #2 will not fit in two weeks. Why? Because this has happened repeatedly. Every time a new pair of footwear is purchased—and tween footwear is not inexpensive—it is only a matter of weeks before said tween is crying, “These are too tight!” I didn’t marry Paul Bunyan and no, child #2 does not have some kind of accelerated growing disease. But boy, are his feet going to be huge. I worry about that. Or maybe I shouldn’t. Some women love a man with big feet.

2. I worry that my children will get scurvy. As much as they hate broccoli, brussel sprouts, and every other cancer-fighting vegetable that I serve nightly, they hate citrus fruits even more. As a result, I don’t even bother buying oranges. Every year for the holidays, however, some kind parent of one of hubby’s students will send a great, giant gift basket full of Florida grapefruits and oranges and I will hold them aloft, touting their restorative and scurvy-fighting powers. I will even employ a pirate accent to make my point and note how many pirates died on the high seas as a result of this nearly-eradicated disease. The kids hide until I stop speaking like Blackbeard. And then, with great sadness, I will parcel out the grapefruits and oranges to neighbors and friends who all proclaim that their kids “eat them up!” which makes me feel even worse.

3. I worry that their rooms are not clean enough so that after they have recovered from scurvy, they will get black lung disease. I made a conscious decision years ago that the kids were responsible for the cleanliness of their rooms. That should give you a mental picture of what their rooms look like. Granted, child #1 is a little better than child #2 in keeping things neat and tidy, but let’s face it: how many kids are going to pull their beds, dressers, and desks away from the wall to check to see how much dust has accumulated back there? Not too many, I suspect. Therefore, every few months or so, I take it upon myself to do just that. And what I find is not pretty. I have the pediatrician on speed dial just in case black lung becomes an issue because what I find behind the furniture looks very similar to what is found in coal mines, and that, my friends, is something that keeps me up at night. It doesn’t spur me to clean any more than I do; let’s be realistic here.

4. I worry that the rats will return and when they do, they’ll travel through the heating ducts and end up in their bedrooms. You remember the Great Rat Infestation of 2010? Well, I spend our good, hard-earned money every month on Tom, the Rat Whisperer, making sure that they don’t come back. But having done a little research on the habits of our furry, rodent friends, I have learned that they are intrepid. That is, they can scurry willy-nilly throughout your house, generally behind the walls; all they need is a few inches and something to tempt them, like the remnants of half-eaten granola bars that are often found when I move the furniture from the wall in one or another child’s room. I’ve decided that rather than scare the children about wearing clean underwear in the event of getting hit by a bus (this was a favorite of my mother and grandmother), I’d rather scar them for life by telling tales of rats who entered a child’s room through a heat duct and spent the night foraging for food underneath the child’s bed. That oughta learn them, right?

I’ll end there, if only to give you a chance to call Child Protective Services on me.

What are some of your concerns, Stiletto friends?

Maggie Barbieri

What Being a Writer Means to Me

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First, I must say that as a writer I write. I have to write. There are times when I can’t fit it in, usually because of family crisis or needs, but writing is what I want to do every day. I want to know what is going to happen to my characters and the only way to find out is to write about them.

Being a writer has also given me so much more than merely having my books published–though believe me, it’s a thrill each time a new one comes out.

First and foremost are the friends that I’ve made because of writing–author friends and reader friends. I cherish each one of them. I think when I first realized how many friends I’d made was at a Bouchercon years ago and as I entered the area where the panels were being held I was greeted and hugged by one person after another.

Because of being a writer–and at the time I was an instructor for Writers Digest School–I was invited to be an instructor at the prestigious Maui Writers Conference which meant a free trip to Maui.

I’ve also been asked to speak at other writers conferences in many different places–and I love seeing new places and of course meeting new people. I also like to share what I know about writing and publishing with new writers.

Speaking of seeing new places, going to mystery and other writing cons has taken me to places I’d have never gone otherwise. Going to Mayhem in the Midlands made Omaha NE one of my favorite places. Last year, attending Epicon gave me the opportunity to see New Orleans.

I enjoy book festivals too and have my favorites. Hubby and I love to make jaunts to the coast and combining one with a book festival has become something we do often. We just returned from San Luis Obispo and the Central Coast Book Festival and a couple of weeks before we were at Nipomo’s library book fest.

Next up is Bouchercon in San Francisco. I’m rooming with someone I haven’t seen since I went with her to Edgar week in New York and on down to Malice Domestic in DC. That will be a fun reunion–and I’ll be seeing a bunch of other friends too.

To sum it all up, being a writer has given me the opportunity to do so many things I would never have done otherwise–and it’s not only been satisfying but lots of fun.

Marilyn
http://fictionfroyou.com

Update – The Chisholm Trail Book Festival

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Evelyn David (i.e. Marian and I) attended two book festivals this month. I went to the one in Duncan, Oklahoma on September 18 and Marian went to Toms River, New Jersey on September 25th. These events were wonderful opportunities for both of us to connect with old and future readers of the Sullivan Investigation Mystery series. I’ll let her tell you about the New Jersey event in upcoming blogs.

I attended The Chisholm Trail Book Festival in Duncan. This was my first trip to Duncan and it was about a 3 1/2 hour drive from my home in Muskogee. I arrived about 4 pm on Friday, the 17th and checked into a hotel near the event location. The sponsors of the festival had invited all the authors to attend a dinner that evening at the Chisholm Trail Heritage Center. While waiting for dinner to be served, I avoided the sticky, 90 plus heat by touring the (fabulously air-conditioned) Heritage Center. The museum was a wonderful mix of prairie antiques and tv/movie memorabilia from iconic western films and series. One whole room was dedicated to Lonesome Dove, the book and tv miniseries. Large poster-sized stills from the mini-series covered the walls along with framed scripts and props. A flat screen television showed the movie in a continuous loop. I really wanted a Lonesome Dove coffee table book offered for sale in the gift store, but couldn’t justify the cost. (And believe me I tried!)

The dinner was traditional cowboy fare – barbequed brisket, beans, fried potatoes, slaw, and biscuits – served from a chuck wagon. Live music was provided as we ate on a covered portico. Most of the authors present were from Oklahoma and Texas, and I used the dinner hour to catch up with old friends and make some new ones. The majority of the authors attending were historical, biographical, or Christian writers. They were very kind to let a mystery writer sit among them.


The next morning I had an hour to set up my table. The sponsors of the event had arranged for teens from the local school to help authors unload their cars and cart the materials into the event center. I can’t tell you how impressed I was with this kindness. Four eighth-grade mystery fans helped me move boxes of books, framed poster, promo stuff, etc. from the parking lot to my assigned table. All of us had our hands full, so you can imagine how many trips it would have taken me to do it by myself.

A couple of hours after I settled in at my “crime scene”-themed table, I had to leave to present a workshop, “Clues to Writing a Mystery.” My audience was a mix of teens and adults, all interested in the nuts and bolts (or should I say knives and guns?) of writing mysteries. Marian, who had reviewed my handouts for typos, had warned me I had enough material for a two-day class. She was right, but I was happy knowing I wouldn’t run out of things to talk about.

While I was presenting the workshop, two of the young ladies who helped me earlier, manned my table, selling several books! I wish I had their help for all my events!

After lunch, which was sold conveniently right in the room where the book tables were located, I had a “mini-book-club” session. In other words, I read the opening scenes from Murder Off the Books. Reading aloud is not my favorite thing to do, but the audience was polite and clapped loudly when I finished a little early. They also asked lots of questions about publishers, agents, advances, and royalty payments. So maybe they weren’t so much into the plot and my oratory skills. Sigh. I didn’t mind though. I’m still new enough at this writing business to remember how confusing the publishing world was … uh is.

FFA guys (Future Farmers of America) showed up to help me pack up my table and load my car. They were great! In fact the whole festival was incredibly “pro-author.”

The 2011 Chisholm Trail Book Festival is already in the planning stages. For more information contact Lavon Strong at the Legacy Bank, 2100 N. Hwy. 81, Duncan, OK 73533.

Rhonda
aka The Southern Half of Evelyn David
http://www.evelyndavid.com/

Bizzy Schmizzy

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Rachel Brady

The busiest time of my life was the winter of 2006. There was my day job in the research lab at NASA. I taught three fitness classes each week in the evenings. I was on a home-cooking kick and spent inordinate amounts of time making up advance menus and shopping lists each week, plus making those meals. I had 5- and 3- year-old daughters, and a newborn son. I was a nursing mom. (Anyone who questions why that last part matters has never been the exclusive food source for another human being.) That year was my first triathlon season too. I did everything I could to participate in group workouts with my tri training team. And, I was finishing my first novel.

I’m tired just thinking about 2006.

The thing is, at the time it didn’t occur to me that I was busy. In fact, I’ve been living more or less the same lifestyle since then, just with a different mix of “stuff,” and I didn’t figure out I was busy until earlier this year.

I began to understand it when, each time I went to my fridge to add something to the calendar, some other thing was already written there. These weren’t always my events, either. My kids are 10, 8, and 4 now and have busier social lives than I do. Birthday parties, lessons, sports . . . you know the deal.

I decided to wipe my calendar. While I was at it, I wiped theirs too.

I dropped a few fitness classes. Vowed to take a one-year break from races. Didn’t sign the kids up for sports or music lessons. (Still encouraged birthday parties, though. Those are fun.) I started saying no to requests to go to events I didn’t want to attend. That was hard at first but got easier with practice.

My hiatus from Busy has fundamentally changed who I am. It afforded me an opportunity to really evaluate what is important to me. Strangely, my days are still full. Just with different things. Folks often say that if you haven’t worn something in a year, you obviously don’t miss it and should donate it. I think this is true for all our Busy Tasks too. Not doing some things I used to do, and not missing them, has made it pretty clear what I need in my life and what I don’t.

Don’t get me wrong. I still swim, bike, and run. I just don’t pay $80 to do it on a specified Saturday morning with a number pinned to my shirt. And I still teach those fitness classes, just way less often. My kids are back in sports. Sometimes one or more of them decides to take a season off. That’s fine.

The other day I asked myself what was most important to me. What things am I doing when I’m happiest? When I feel like the best person I can be? When I feel calm, or strong, or just when I feel like me?

It’s a short list: Engage my kids. Read. Exercise.

So these are the things I do. I can’t fit them all in, all the time, but you can bet I’ll be doing any one of these things before I bog myself down with useless tasks that are only disguised as important.

I recently read an article on my favorite website, ZenHabits. Leo Babauta summed it up better than I ever could, and I hope you’ll take a look.

My wish for the Stiletto Faithful is that we each determine what is most important to us and design a life centered on these joys.

The Drive to Sell Books vs. Building Relationships, by Misa/Melissa

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Sometimes you meet an author that just makes you scratch your head and go, “Huh. Glad she thinks she’s all that, because her attitude and people skills sure leave a lot to be desired.”


Then you meet an author who is the complete opposite. She’s friendly, gracious, enthusiastic, approachable, and seems to *get* that writing books, like so many other things, is about building relationships.


Okay, here’s the story. I run Books on the House, as many of you know. The site is going amazingly well. 10,000+ total visitors per week. 24,000+ total page views per week. Fantastic authors have signed on to be featured and to promote their books. These include the phenomenal Sarah Addison Allen, Lori Wilde, Ridley Pearson (who often writes with Dave Barry), Allison Brennan, our own Susan McBride, Jane Yolen (children’s book superstar), and so many more. They come on, their books are featured, they are featured, and at the end of the week, they give away a few copies of their book to the lucky winners for the week (all randomly chosen). Readers find new-to-them authors and books. Authors find potential new readership. Exposure is huge. It’s win-win.


Well, a while back, I happened to be talking with a writer who happens to share my agent. I’ll call her Writer A. I mentioned to Writer A that she should think about coming on Books on the House. I’d do a big splash for her and give her some upgrades (camaraderie and all that, right? Same agent! Mutual friend! Just reaching out to her…).


Her response was immediate and so dismissive that I was honestly stunned. She said, curtly, I might add, “Thanks, but no thanks.” She’s made it a policy, she said, to never, ever give away free books.


This shocked me on a couple of levels. First, whether you’re a debut author or a multiple bestseller, I just think it’s a good idea to be friendly to other people. Life is all about building relationships. Without the people around us, the things in our life and what we go through cease to have meaning.


Being nice = good karma.




I didn’t care if this author came on Books on the House. I was simply offering her the opportunity, along with some freebies, because of our shared agent and a mutual friend. I know how hard it is to let readers know about your book which is why I created the site. I thought she might like exposure for her debut novel. She could have politely declined. Like I said, I didn’t care if she came on, I was just reaching out.


She could have handled it more professionally. She didn’t, and that rubbed me wrong.


The other issue I had with her response was her ‘policy’ to never give away a free book. SHOCKING!!! This business, now more than ever, is built on word of mouth. Authors receive FREE COPIES of their books for just this purpose. We should be giving them away to the press, to reviewers, and to avid readers in our target audience who will then spread the word. Again, good karma. This author’s philosophy is so vastly different from mine, I wanted to get other opinions. Your opinions Maybe I’m WAY off the mark.


I don’t think so, though. I come now to example 2. Hank Phillippi Ryan. Now, I admit, I haven’t read Hank’s books yet. I’ve had them on my ‘to buy’ list, but, shoot, there are, like 500 books on that list, and I don’t own a digital reading device yet, btw, so 500 books would take up WAY too much space.


But I digress.


Hank is on Books on the House right now. Her fourth book, Drive Time, just came out. When she contacted me, she was super enthusiastic, not about coming on my site to promote, but just about her books, about people discovering her books, and about making connections with readers. We talked on the phone and I liked her right off. She has that infectious personality that just makes you want to smile and spend time with her. I wish I could go visit Boston just to drop in on Hank!




Anyway, we worked together to come up with something different to really get people to interact on the site this week and boy has it been successful. First, we did a Skype interview (which is where I also discovered I REALLY respect Hank Phillippi Ryan). She’s smart, successful, driven, accomplished, caring, empathetic… I could go on, but I’ll leave you to watch the interview yourselves (Interview with Hank Phillippi Ryan Part 1 and Interview with Hank Phillippi Ryan Part 2). Did I mention she’s won, like, a boatload of Emmies for her investigative reporting? Warrior woman. I like it.


Hank wanted to do something fun for readers and to give many people the opportunity to win copies of her books. It wasn’t just about getting people to buy Drive Time. (On a side note, I’ve seen authors practically begging people to buy their books so they can keep writing. I cringe when I see this because, again, we have to build relationships FIRST and sell books SECOND.) Hank wants people to know about Charlotte McNally, her sleuth. She has something to say to her readers through her character and how better to introduce her character and books to people than by talking about them, loving them, and graciously giving away a few copies to avid readers? Actually, she’s giving away more than a few. One a day, plus a grand prize of the whole set. And she’s giving away a prize to commenters, something no one has done before on Books on the House. She’s interacting with the commenters, she’s talking to readers, and she’s building connections.


Her policy is to spread her books around, and I like that approach!


I tell you what, I was so enamored with Charlotte McNally (being of a certain age and trying to figure out what her future will be given her choice of career over romance) that I immediately went out and bought Prime Time, the first book Hank’s series.


Have I bought Writer A’s book? Nope. It sounds like it is a fun read, but I’ve not heard her talk about it, haven’t felt her love for her story or characters, and haven’t felt her love and respect for readers. All I’ve seen is her drive to sell books. Her ‘policy’ turned me off, quite frankly. She’s all about selling books, not building relationships.


Will I buy books from the other type of author I mentioned? Doubt it. I get that people want to write for a living. So do I. But when an author spends his or her time focusing on that, assuming that readers care whether or not he or she continues to write, I think they’re missing the point. How can they care when they’ve not read the author’s first book? And why will they read the first book if they know nothing about it, don’t feel his or her passion for the characters, their journey, or the themes he or she is compelled to write about? Again, all I’ve seen is a stifling drive to sell books, not build relationships with readers. I guess it can be a fine line, but it’s one I think authors need to be aware of.


I want to hear your thoughts. Should authors care more about building relationships with readers? As a reader, are you more drawn to an author who does this? As an author, how do you find balance between the drive to sell books and the desire to build relationships with readers?


Am I just plain loca?


Misa Ramirez/Melissa Bourbon

Cleaning Out the Closet

/in /by

My husband remarked at dinner last night that my posts for the past several weeks have been more “serious.” Serious? You can’t be serious! So in an attempt to lighten things up a bit, I will return to what I know best: absurdity. Absurdity in the form of cleaning out one’s closet.

I get a hankering every now and again for complete and total order in the house. Yes, there is some deep psychological underpinning here but I have neither the time nor the financial resources to figure out what that underpinning might be. Heck, I have enough trouble struggling into my own personal underpinning—aka my bra—every day, so why delve into the psyche? Too much time, too much trouble, not enough money.

OK, where was I? Oh, right, back at the closet. Child #1 and I share a closet. As those of you who live in an old house know, closet space is at a premium. In this three-bedroom, nearly one-hundred-year old house, we have but three closets, and one of them is in the dining room. The other two are in the kids’ bedrooms, and are shared by the liked-gendered members of the family: Patrick/Jim, Dea/me. It is a struggle to keep our clothes unwrinkled and in some kind of orderly semblance when they are interspersed with those of the other inhabitants of the house. Suffice it to say, I have worn more than one un-ironed dress shirt to a business meeting that definitely has the smell of Eau de Field Hockey about it.

This past weekend, I pulled everything out the closet, which resides under the stairs to the attic. I found seventeen tote bags, three mismatched shoes, countless unpaired socks, two flower girl dried-flower wreaths, a box of beads, and a third-grade math workbook. Then, I set about pulling out every garment that I own and store in the closet. This unearthed one vintage mink jacket that my mother gave me (and believe me, I’m going to wear it the first chance I get; sorry, PETA), a size eight skirt (I must have had that since the sixth grade because I haven’t been a size eight since around 1975), and countless white dress shirts, the origin of which is unknown to me (I mostly wear pullovers and turtlenecks as I loathe looking down and seeing buttons stretched across my ample bosom).

Cleaning out your closet reveals all of the fashion errors that you have made and reminds you of what not to do in the future. I’m more Ethel Kennedy than Jackie Kennedy, albeit with fewer children, less money, and no hint of scandal surrounding me. As a result, I was surprised to find a pair of black pumps with a retro sixties’ feel and little bows on the toes. Was I channeling my inner Jackie when I bought those? What of the polka-dotted bolero jacket? Or the blazer with the Nehru collar? Or the gold silk chantung blouse that I wore once and didn’t even remember that I had?

I made some hard decisions regarding items that I had forgotten I had, crammed as they were in the back of the closet, but that I knew I wouldn’t wear again. I loaded up a bunch of items—four bags in all along with countless other things on hangars—and took them to Good Will, where the woman at the donation center eyed my cache with glee. It makes me happy to think that many of the things that I consider cast-offs—despite some being new and never used—would be sold at a fraction of their original price to someone who might get use and pleasure out of them.

Cleaning out the closet is a daunting task, but ultimately, a cathartic one. It’s interesting to take a trip down Fashion Memory Lane, but for me—someone who considers cleaning an extreme sport—it’s even more satisfying to see room where there used to be none.

Stiletto Faithful, does cleaning out the closet—either literally or figuratively—give you the joy it gives me? What treasures have you unearthed in your cleaning expeditions? Do tell! (P.S.–Pictures of me in the vintage mink jacket to come. Stay tuned.)

Maggie Barbieri