O Platform, My Platform

So you know how I've mentioned that when we writers intend to go out and get something published, the first thing the publishers want to know is: what is your platform? What can you bring to the table?

I now know why.

Going through this process preparing for our book launch, I've seen the edges of underbelly to this beast. The publisher has their own venues for book promotion. But authors are expected to toe the line. Fortunately my novella is part of a collection, so I'm collaborating with 8 other authors (all of which have various platform constructions) to help launch our babies out into the world on September 1. 

I literally cannot imagine going into this process without having set up a hub. A home-base. A homing beacon guiding all other social networking traffic to itself. And that's this blog. That's all of you! (You rock, by the way.)

Additionally, the fact that I already had over 800 Twitter followers, over 70 followers on my author Facebook page, and a smattering of followers on Tumblr and Pinterest (I don't lean on these quite so much--I'll explain in a minute), all gives me a huge boost when the flurry of book promotion starts.

So my only other tasks to broaden the net was to set up an Amazon author page and a Goodreads author page (both of which you need to have some sort of publishing credit in order to set up, so I couldn't do it before now.) 

Okay, to boil it all down, this is what I've learned so far (and I'm certain you know all of this, but I'm gonna say it anyway. Because reminders are helpful.):

• Keep up with your blog/website: this is the brain center of all you do and this is where people will come to find out about you and what you're writing. If you can only focus on one thing, make it this.

• Keep up with your social networking venues: I would say, from what I've experienced, that having 2 or 3 really solid social network venues at work is better than to have 5 or 6 that you manage inconsistently. My focus is FB and Twitter. These are what I enjoy most, what are easiest for me to manage (especially when I'm on the go--I can still manage it from my phone/iPad) and what offers me the widest audience (at least at this point). A couple of the other authors I'm working with use Pinterest religiously. While I occasionally post on Tumblr and Pinterest those are venues I've found more difficult to break into. I also find that in those 2 venues I have varied interests beyond just the literary. I like to pin pictures of travel and photography, which has nothing to do with my writing. So I find I use it more for personal reasons rather than for expanding my follower base. (Others feel the same about Twitter, so it must be like handed-ness. Different things come more naturally for different people.)

• Be open, be a good learner: I've learned so much just by watching other veteran authors going about their business. I've tried a few things that seem to have had great impact, tried some things that seemed to have nil. Sometimes "old school" ideas are great: like mailing postcards to libraries in the area your story is set. (Yeah, snail mail. Who'd a thunk!). Sometimes "new school" stuff works, like making a promo video. (Love this video that Marcia Gruver put together!) I remember a conversation I had with author John Pipkin, and he said when his first book Woodsburner came out he sat in a conference with the publisher's marketing department and they said something like, "Does anyone know anything about this Facebook thing?" Obviously that was a few years ago, but look at where we are only a short while later! So at the end of the day, it's all an ever-fluid, ever-changing process, and we learn as we go. So have an open mind and enjoy the journey.

Bottom line for those of you who are writers, keep writing (always!) but don't ignore that platform--I hope these meager insights have been helpful to you.

Now, staring on Monday, I'll be posting a series of interviews with each of the authors in the Pioneer Christmas Collection. We all answered the same questions about ourselves and our stories, and I've loved reading what each person wrote--such a fun window into the authors and where the seeds of their stories came from.

Also starting on Monday, I'm going to be running a Giveaway for a copy of A Pioneer Christmas Collection signed by all 9 authors. Wooooo! The drawing will run through September 1 (launch day!) and I'll be announcing the winner on September 3*. (I'll also be doing another drawing for a copy of the collection on my birthday on September 11, so be on the lookout! It's crazy fun times!)

Happy Thursday, dear friends!

*ADDENDUM: I had originally said September 2, but we're going to be having a guest writer with us that day, so I want to give her the full spotlight on that day. So I'll be announcing the giveaway winner on Sept. 3! Woohoo!

 

Where My Writing Journey Began: an airport

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook you are seeing posts about the upcoming release of my novella A Silent Night, which is part of a novella collection entitled A Pioneer Christmas Collection. The collection is composed of 9 novellas with a Christmas theme. Having met the 8 other women who contributed and read each of their stories, I realize that I am so, so privileged to be part of this project.

Yet this project, for me, almost didn't begin. For the purpose of transparency, I need to let you in on a little secret: I almost didn't write this story. But, as Maria VanTrapp would sing, lets start at the very beginning!

For two years I had been working with my agent trying to get my first novel published. To no avail. Lots of rejection and the feedback I was getting I think was, well, spot-on. My novel needed work. Then last summer (July 2012) I was sitting in the Philadelphia airport waiting to fly to Paris for my MFA residency when I received a phone call from my agent. She had a writing opportunity if I was interested. An editor was looking for submissions for a novella collection that Barbour Publishing was putting together. There were some parameters:

• Christian fiction
• Romance
• Historical--set anywhere between 1700 and late 1800s
• A Christmas theme with the actual Christmas scene in a transient/make-shift setting (emphasis on the idea of "pioneer")
• 20,000 words or less

I took it all on board, thanked my agent for offering this opportunity, hung up the phone. My mind was awhorl. I had 4 weeks to write the first 2 chapters and a book proposal to submit to the editor--2 of those weeks I would be in the throes of my grad school residency, so no writing would be getting done then. That would leave me 2 weeks. Was it possible? Yes, but I wasn't optimistic. I knew there would be a load of people vying for this opportunity and I was, as yet, unpublished. A nobody. It was longer than a long shot. It was a speck on the horizon.

I boarded my plane to Paris and soon the pot that had begun to brew on the novella possibility was put on the back burner.

Throughout my time in Paris the thought of "should I take on this project?" would occasionally surface, and I had almost decided not to bother. I would be writing on speculation, with no guarantee on any payoff. Worse, I could be faced with yet more rejection. Besides, I didn't like the constriction of all the parameters. I tried a couple of different opening chapters--things that I thought might work. But my imagination was not sparking, and I flew home from Paris with my mind made up. This project wasn't for me.

When I got home I spoke with my writer friend, Karen (a wise, wise woman) and my mom (another wise, wise woman) and both of them said, "why not give it a try?" Yes, part of me was afraid of getting yet another rejection. Yet, in a very loving manner, they both pointed to the real reason for my resistance: my own arrogance, my attitude of "I want to write what I want to write." That snobbery was really what held me back from giving this project a chance. I was humbled. There would be time to write what I want to write. But I had been offered a gift--an opportunity to write. Why wouldn't I take it?

I repented of my arrogance, refocused my mind, and sat down at my laptop. I had 10 days till the deadline. And that's when the Spirit started to move. I wrote a 1st chapter. It was okay. I didn't love it, but I found a protagonist that I loved. And that lit the spark I needed. I rewrote those first 2 chapters several times and sent them to my agent. She sent back some suggestions. I made more adjustments. We worked on the book proposal together. It came down to the day before the deadline. I was up until the wee hours of morning making final edits. Then, with a gusty exhale of fear and relief, I hit the "send" button. Now I could only wait.

The school year began and life became chaotic: teaching (at a new school), grad school, children, huswifery. (I always wanted to use that word!) Then one night as Jonathan and I were getting kids ready for bed, my agent called. I went to my bedroom, bracing for news of another rejection. And it never came. 

"She loved the story!" she said. "It's going to be part of the collection!" 

I was silent a moment, mind spinning. She said it again. I stifled my squeals, trying to show a modicum of professionalism. I thanked her. Stifled another squeal. Thanked her several more times. Hung up the phone and screamed. Then laughed and cried at once. Ran downstairs to Jonathan.

"Is this a good cry or bad?" he asked. (A fair question.) My kids ran up to watch the spectacle. 

"I'm getting published!!"

We all cheered and yelled and did happy dances together. It was a bright, shiny moment. Then I called my mom and told her. She cried. I cried some more.

While still in the euphoric glow of my writing finally getting accepted, I began on the rest of the novella. The parameters I had initially resisted became a challenge--a challenge I found fun and intriguing. I sent my manuscript to my MFA prof, John Pipkin, who is a fabulous historical fiction writer. He offered loads of brilliant insight. With his help I rewrote and revised and stumbled along, long after the euphoria wore off, until I finally had the novella that is coming out in September. Did I learn alot about the craft of writing? Yes. About the process of publishing? Yes. (I'll be posting more about that soon.) 

But above all I learned to get out of my own way and embrace opportunity in whatever form it comes. Even from a phone call in an airport about a long shot.

 

The Boots are Back On and I'm Rolling Your Way!

I'm baaaa-aaaack.

I'm not sure if the Jaws theme song should play or if ticker tape should start drifting from the sky. (I'll leave you to determine your own sentiments on this issue.) But I am indeed back in the blogsphere--I feel like this should read blog-o-sphere--and must say that I missed this dear Isle. I missed all of you!

I would also like to say an enormous thank you to our guest writers--Lauren and Stevie--for filling the silence while I was traveling. Their writing was beautiful; their honesty compelling. Thank you, ladies.

In my last post (oh, about a billion years ago) I posted pictures of Ireland. Since then I also visited Scotland and my husband's incredible and loving family. However, instead of yet again posting a deluge of pictures, this week I'm going to choose a few of my favorite moments from my Scotland adventures and share them with you. So tomorrow look for a post on one of my Highland discoveries.

Then...

Throughout August I will be relaying some of my "newbie" publishing experiences as I head into the release of my novella on September 1. I previously posted the cover art for the novella collection (and I'm still crazy excited about that!), and I have since "met" via email the other 8 authors that contributed to the collection--and they pretty much rock. One or two of them may even make an appearance on the Silent Isle as well. And, who knows, maybe a free book or two will be given away! I'm waggling like a giddy puppy in my excitement about all that is to come! (But don't worry, I'll not pee on anyone as giddy puppies are prone to do.)

Which brings me to my final point....the most delightful surprise I was met with upon my return home from my travels: 

A finished bathroom!
(okay, now cue the ticker tape.)

Yes, I did choose the decor, but it was all Jonathan who made it happen. It even has a heated floor--gasp! I've never had such luxury! From now on my feet will be toasty each time I step out of the shower. Yep, best. surprise. ever. 

 So good to be back with you all - happy Tuesday!

So What if I'm Not Award-Winning, I'm an Author

Title page of my novella--Yes sir, that's my name in print.

I just received from my editor a galley copy (PDF version) of my novella, which is part of a 9-novella collection put out by Barbour Publishing. My final task was to read through my story and make any last edits I wanted to make before it goes to press. So, with twitchy, excited fingers, I made my edits.

They additionally asked that I read through my author's bio at the end and change whatever I wanted to change. So I scrolled to the end and found my name and the other 8 authors involved. Since I only had 1 piddly sentence for my bio, I thought I should beef it up, yet wanted to stay in keeping with what the others had written, so I read through the other bios. And it turns out that most of them have dozens of books published and many were recipients of various literary awards.

And then there's me. No awards. No big literary achievements. Just a burgeoning writer with very few--okay, zero--credits to her name. So I sat and stared at my now-blank author's bio and wondered what in the world I could write so that I didn't look like a ridiculous interloper amidst this company.

I could lie and say that awards don't matter. But #1) I'm a highly competitive person and #2) I live my life with as firm as grasp on reality as I can. So, yes, awards matter. And I'm not sure I have any business throwing my name in the ring of this literary circus.

My excitement waned. My flag of victory dropped to half-mast. Then my eyes fell on the title page of my novella and a new realization came: My name is in this book.

Out of scores of story submissions, the publisher choose me, my story, to be among this group of writers. My job is not to bulk up my bio, my job is--or, at this point, was--to write the best story I can. And that's what I've done. It's a story of which I'm proud, and nothing--especially not an author's bio--is going to steal the excitement of this first publishing moment.

So, for the moment, the cloying voice of "You're Not Good Enough" is silenced--though I know from experience it's never silent for long. But now I am armed with a galley copy of my novella (with a cool-fonted title page) that I can at least look at and remind myself: I am an Author.


PS: I'll be sending out more updates on the release of the novella collection as the time gets closer. Barbour Publishing is putting the collection together and the release date is September 1, 2013. The collection is entitled A Pioneer Christmas Collection; my novella is entitled A Silent Night. I may even do a Giveaway once I get my hands on my copies--who knows?!

 

How my bathroom has metaphorically become my writing…or vice versa.

Our bathroom has been in the process of renovation for 3 months. Yes, 3 months of a plywood floor, tottery toilet (because heaven forbid we waste a whopping $7 on a new wax ring so we can secure the toilet to its base), bare-bulb lighting, exposed pipe, and no sink. (You heard me. No sink. We wash our hands in the bathtub and brush our teeth in the kitchen. Fun stuff.) And, even more unfortunate, it is the one and only bathroom in our modest home. So with 5 of us using it—okay, only 4.5 of us because my 3-year-old abjectly refuses to use the potty without first depositing a dollop of poo in her pull-up—the upheaval has become . . . wearing.

My husband will kill me for posting this--

but at least now you can all admire his tiling prowess!

However, the worst part is that, after the bathroom door was initially removed in order to pull up the flooring and re-pipe some of the 80 year old plumbing, it was NEVER PUT BACK ON! (yes, that’s me yelling…though not directly at my husband, even though he's the one that took it down. I love you, my tiling virtuoso!) So the one safe-haven from my rioting children, the ringing phone, the incessant demands on my attention is now fully exposed. The barrier removed. The world-in-flux now fluxes in on my business. I would at times run to The John and close the door even if there was not a need to “conduct business” (yep, potty euphemisms and metaphors are aflying), but there’s no hiding now. My children—yes, all 3—will stand at the door as I’m trying to get out of the shower and cover myself with a towel/bathrobe/strand of TP and there’s nothing to prevent them from spectating except my wail of despair that sends them running in fear and tears my kindly admonitions to “leave mommy in peace.”

So, during a non-solitary stint this morning in this pit of despair, during which I fielded incessant questions (including “If Conner [our cat] threw up, what would it look like?”), I realized this is what it’s like to be a writer. We like our doors closed, our privacy maintained, our self-respect intact. Yet once our writing is released into the world, we are left “door-less.” Nothing stands between ourselves in all our vulnerability and those who might have something to say about it.

I’m currently gearing up to have my first work of fiction published. I have until February 1 to have my novella polished and gleaming, turns of phrase perfected, characters alive on the page, story arc seamless. Once that novella is submitted, I’m at the mercy of agents,editors, publishers, critics, and—the ultimate terror—readers. What if they hate it? Or worse, what if my story is entirely forgettable? What if people realize I’m a big, fat fraud? Honestly, these thoughts occur every time I publish a blog post. When I post something new (which I’m trying to do more often. Really, I am!) and see that only a handful of people read it—and I am SO grateful for that handful, especially my darling 9 followers whom I adore!—fear taunts me. And I’m tempted to go find my door and jimmy it back into place so I can hide.

But I’m compelled to write, and compelled to offer my writing to any and all willing to read it. Therefore I must endure—embrace, even—doorlessness. And I’m trying. I may throw a fit occasionally when all I want is some STINKIN’ PRIVACY, but it’s what I’ve chosen—or what’s chosen me—so here I am. Doing my business for the world to see. Enjoy.

I thought I'd introduce Conner, who incidentally did not throw up.