I Just Published my Book. Now What?

Lorraine Pestell:

The generosity of some independent authors to their fellows is unending. Thanks, Nicholas Rossis, for these insights on raising our profile.

Originally posted on Nicholas C. Rossis:

From the blog of Nicholas C. Rossis, author of science fiction, the Pearseus epic fantasy series and children's booksFirst of all, congratulations! You’re now a published author – and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Second, you’d be amazed how often I hear that question in LinkedIn’s author groups. With some 3,000 new books published every day, I have serious doubts that you can just sit back and wait for readers to stumble on your book, or for word of mouth to work its magic. The chances of that happening are probably similar to that of winning the lottery, in which case you don’t even need the long hours and hard work that goes hand-in-hand with a career as an author (if you don’t believe me, you may want to check out this post by Pedro Barrento on Indies Unlimited).

So, what are the next steps after publication? Before I can answer that, I need to ask one question of my own first: is this your first book? You see…

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Focus on Australian Women Writers with Disability: Q&A with Kate Richards

Lorraine Pestell:

Here is a great post about a fellow Australian author battling long-term mental health issues and having the courage to write about it. Kate Richards’ goals are similar to mine, and it’s comforting to know there are others out there! Thanks to the Australian Women Writers blog and to Kate for encouraging us all into her complex world.

Originally posted on Australian Women Writers Challenge:

For some people, courage means leaping out of muddy trenches and running headlong into battle with a rifle, or making a speech with a dry mouth before a crowded auditorium. If you read Kate Richards’ work Madness: a Memoir, you’ll find that courage also means staying alive.

Kate Richards

Photo Credit: Monty Coles

Kate is a trained medical doctor, and for the good part of twenty years she lived with acute psychosis and depression. This meant crippling self-doubt, invasion from cruel voices in her head, frightening dreams and suicide attempts. Despite the destructive facets of her illness, she was still a person who responded to art and the gentleness of cats and nature, and who longed to contribute to society. Eventually, with medication and a trusting relationship with a psychologist, she acknowledged that she had a mental illness, and learnt what was needed to live with it. In her Penguin Specials book,

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Goodreads Giveaway throughout September!

Hello!

I am delighted to announce that I will be running a Goodreads Giveaway in September as part of the launch of “A Life Singular – Part Three”.  Twenty winners will receive e-book copies of Parts One and Two, to be randomly selected at the end of the month.

I also can’t wait to share my first 5* review for Part Three, received today from Destiny Brown on Goodreads:

“Contemporary Romance/Drama with Love & Loss – Captivating and Emotional

A Life Singular Part Three is the third book in the Life Singular Drama.

This is a love story that deals with social issues of today including mental illness and loss of a spouse. It is captivating, yet emotional. Sad yet lovely.

A truly real story that could be taken straight out of today’s newspaper headlines. The story is about a celebrity who is writing his autobiography of the love of his life, his loss and their memories together.

Highly recommended, Captivating Read!!”

It’s so encouraging to receive reviews, so I’m diving straight back into Part Four right now!

Thank you, Destiny Brown, and thanks to anyone else who might like to read my serial and leave a review.

Best wishes from the first day of the southern hemisphere Spring :-)

Do you check with Alexa before parting with your money?

Lorraine Pestell:

Reblogging this awaesome post from Effrosyni, for those indie authors who would like to know where to put our scarce promotional budgets!

Originally posted on Effrosyni's Blog:

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The other day, an author friend asked my opinion about a site where she wanted to submit her book for a review. As I’d heard of the site before, I said it would be a good idea. Later on, she contacted me again and said that for submitting her book, they expected her to pay $10 as to display the cover along with the review. That’s when I got warning bells. Why did they tell her the review itself was free, but they needed payment to display the cover that’s bound to go with it? Why not depend on their Amazon affiliate links for revenue if the review itself is free or just ask for a donation? It sounded weird and so the warning bells kept ringing. You see, I don’t abide to many rules in general but there’s one among very few that I find absolutely non-negotiable: “Don’t part…

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Of England

Hello from the middle of the night, where I’m wide awake with jet-lag after a whirlwind trip back to London for my mother’s 75th birthday celebrations.  Spending five days back in my parents’ home has got me thinking about how much change they’ve seen during their lifetimes.  I’m the one who’s travelled and “seen the world”, yet just as much has happened while they’ve stayed in one place!  This post contains some random musings about living in a big city, to which many of us can relate:

The line is advancing, it cannot be stopped

It will soon pass over the heads of my parents and the last few of their friends who chose not to vacate for the countryside

The quiet cul-de-sac where they live bears scant attestation to the passage of an era

But it passes nevertheless

In the age of the global citizen, my parents are of England

 

Families in the surrounding houses value the same things, regardless of where they come from

Indeed, they uprooted themselves from their homelands in order to achieve the best they could

The ability to educate their children at fine schools without having to send them away from home

Professional careers, with a salary to call their own and economic and political stability to build a successful life without fear of losing it all at a moment’s notice

A comfortable house in an area with a comparatively low crime rate, where their prestige cars are safe in their driveways

An endless supply of arts and culture with which to feed their souls

A tolerant society where people are free to believe in what’s important to them and to live accordingly

These are the global citizens who live in London but with no need to be of England

 

My dad’s lawn is mown in stripes, and my mum’s roses and camellias bloom in clay soil

Such precision is not as important to the global citizen, and largely outsourced

Neighbours exchange golfing tips with my father, but they do not belong to a traditional club because their business and social interests are best served elsewhere and with fellow global citizens

The men in the street are equally passionate about cricket and football, but their hearts rightly cannot support English teams even though their children are eligible to play

Victoria sponges, sausage rolls and cream teas are shared by my mum and the women of England, a domain even harder to infiltrate for the global woman, who is either engaged in her career (if she’s lucky) or is stuck indoors, feverishly upholding their own cultural traditions while her menfolk go global

 

My parents do not have a racist bone in their bodies, yet they lament the loss of their England

They have the utmost respect for those around them, for what they have achieved and how they live their lives

They are interested in where these friendly people have come from and the different lifestyles they keep

Together, they all suffer from the same traffic congestion, crumbling infrastructure, rubbish collection strikes and self-serving politicians who seem to have lost sight of reality

They have seen their neighbours’ children grow up with their own, knowing each of them by their first name and eagerly following news of their exploits as the new generation of global citizens

These very “children” now call in on my parents to make sure they’re alright, when I, as another global citizen whose home is on the other side of the world, am unable to be there for them

My siblings are still of England, though I am not

 

So the line advances ever onwards

The suburban pocket where I grew up now lies on the border between England and the city which is only London by name. It could be New York or Paris or Sydney or New Delhi or Shanghai or Buenos Aires.

What will be the origin of the next family to occupy my parents’ house?

Turn away from the city, and their children will play on grass. Turn towards it, and they’ll play on rubberised surfaces

To the global citizen, it only matters that they play safely and happily

But then, they are not of England