I found a better copy of the cover on a different site....
I got my first glimpse at the cover for THE FACE OF DECEIT at Powell's Books. "Glimpse," because it's tiny! But none of the other book sites have it yet, and Steeple Hill hasn't sent me anything of it yet.
Interesting. Not at all what I expected, and the vase on the cover is all wrong, but all-in-all, I think it'll catch a few eyes. I hope, anyway... :)
What do you think? If you leave a comment on the cover before June 7, you might win a free copy of the book. I'll be giving away three, and it'll be a random drawing of names by someone at my day job. So if you want to wait and see if Amazon or B&N puts up a larger version, that's OK.
Back to writing!
411,422.
As I was teaching at Blue Ridge, I opened one of my sessions by pointing out that there's good news and bad news for authors. The good news is that last year, more than 400,000 titles were published. More opportunities. The bad news is that there were 400,000 titles published. With no more book stores, shelf space, readers, and liquid income for entertainments such as books. The focus of the sessions was how to edit, how to position your book so that it stood out in a crowd, creating a "wow" factor that will get the attention of agents, editors and consumers.
We're in a tough business. And, honestly, anyone who writes with the idea of making extra cash should think about a part-time job delivering pizzas. It's easier and the money comes faster.
Publisher's Weekly today released the new stats, and the news just got better and worse by more than 11,000 titles. 411,422.
What's a girl to do?
Well, if you're like me, writing isn't actually an option. I HAVE to write. If I hope to get published, then I have to study the craft, pick and study a market, work the requirements, network, market, keep a website going, network, go to conferences, pitch to agents and editors, and network. Oh, and I need to network.
I cannot emphasize how important that part is...telling a good story is only the beginning. A successful writers spends at least 40 percent of his or her time marketing...either in finding a publisher or pushing a book. Without that effort, you're writing for yourself.
Which is NOT a bad thing. I write a lot for myself. If I weren't selling, I'd still keep a blog and write my fantasies. I have to. Writing isn't just something I DO. It's who I AM.
More on Blue Ridge later. I need to take a short side trip....through MarketingLand....
One of the greatest things about being a writer these days is the availability of online resources - including book sales. While I still love browsing a store (I adore the smell of new books) and do it often, I also cherish the ability to research, look up covers, check prices, compare lists of books, etc. online. I order often online as well, usually those "Long Tail" books that you don't find in the corner store. (If you want to know what I mean by "long tail" books, go here.)
Great book sites exist beyond Amazon, and one of them is Christianbook.com, the online presence of CBD, aka Christian Book Distributors. If you aren't familiar with them and you write for the inspirational market, go there NOW. They keep beloved books in stock longer than Amazon, and they know the Christian market.
And, occasionally, an author will find a little surprise there. Although Amazon has had the page for The Face of Deceit up for some time, there's no cover and only my bio. CBD has up a description, which tickled me and makes me think that Steeple Hill is already releasing info, even though I've not seen the cover yet.
Here's the listing:
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Her parents were killed as she looked on, but artist Karen O'Neill has suppressed that childhood horror. Now, years later, someone is destroying her famous "face" vases. Art expert Mason DuBroc suspects that the creepy face Karen molds points toward murder. Does Karen know something she shouldn't? A spine-tingling thriller with a fascinating twist!
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I'd want to read it!
They even still have a few copies of A MURDER AMONG FRIENDS, which almost everyone else is out of.
So I can send folks to two different places to pre-order as I'm speaking, networking, and trying to stir a little buzz.
Someone remind me not to have my house renovated the same week I go to a conference. Not because the guys doing the work aren't reliable - that part is going better than I could have wanted. They should finish up this week.
No, it's because a major part of regaining any sense of normality following a conference is being able to decompress, re-orient, and settle. I can't. Everything is still covered in plastic, my closet is blocked, and I have no where to spread anything out...not clothes, materials, books, nada. I'm still living out of a suitcase. I did get the laundry done, and one couch uncovered. So I have a place to sit, eat (although the kitchen is mostly blocked), and later today...type.
Yep, I'm trying to write a BUNCH this weekend, since the work I'd hoped to do on the book last week just did not happen. I love teaching, and think I could make a new career of writing and teaching only, but the week did leave me a bit brain dead. Still....I wouldn't have trade it for the world, and I highly recommend the Blue Ridge conference to any writer, new or experienced. The keynotes themselves were worth the price.
More later...
I had forgotten how steep the NC mountains are...or that Ridgecrest, where the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers conference is held is about half way up the side of one. Meaning every time I change buildings, I go up or down. Very little flat here.
And my schedule has been non-stop. Literally wall-to-wall teaching and appointments, even at meals. The schedule goes from 7:15am to 9pm, after which I check work email. I've taught seven sessions of 1:15 each, and took pitches from approximately 70 writers. I had to skip a session this morning to go to the bookstore for 20 minutes. My whole body aches.
Refreshing spiritually and creatively, yes...physically, I'm a wreck. So I've not blogged or done much of anything but collapse. Which I'm going to do now.
More later on specifics. I've learned a lot.
Rachel is back to baseline, and I feel as if I'm emerging from a cave. While I'm not tremendously reliant on a routine, there is something reassuring about a routine where Rachel is concerned. A regular routine means she's healthy and we are going about life as usual. An unusual routine for her means additional meds and treatments - in other words, it means life has become dicey for my princess and it laces a shadow throughout our days.
But she is well again, and for one week, we'll have a bit of normality again. But just a week. Next weekend, I have to spend Saturday emptying her room, as they are starting the bathroom refit on Monday. And Sunday, I'm heading to Asheville to speak at the Blue Ridge Writer's Conference. I'm polishing my sessions up this week, and I'm really looking forward to the retreat and communing with other writers.
When I come back, they'll still be in the midst of the bathroom work, which may continue into the week after. After that, we begin our summer schedule with Rachel.
All of which means that any writing routine I may have had these past few months is toast. And yet another new plot occurred to me last night, so I need to find a new schedule, even if it's a flexible one, for continuing this part of my career.
All part of the new plan. :)
Interesting week. Stress at work has been a roller coaster, and Rachel has, as well, been up and down in her illness; although she has, in the last few days, made a pretty steady climb up. She MIGHT go to school on Monday, but we're still in a "wait and see" frame of mind. The dog, Crimson, has demonstrated more almost unbelievable jealousy of Rachel, culminating last night in a feces-laced pout because I left the house to go meet with my former sister- and mother-in-law, neither of whom I've seen since the divorce 15 years ago. (After punishment, Crimson spent the night in her crate in the garage, and has been quite well behaved this morning.)
Meeting with the SIL/MIL was a bit like stepping in a time machine. All of us have aged, but not badly. My SIL is battling the early stages of MS, and it showed in her exhaustion from the drive from Michigan. But we were altogether a rather happy, healthy group and glad to be where we are in our lives. We chatted about old friends, new lives, and the futures we still embraced with hope and anticipation.
A good cap to a week in which I've not been able to get either my stress or my decisions under control. I feel as if I'm "torn between two lovers" - and yet I also have the sense that God is not so much leading me as nudging me...which He will do when you're not paying much attention to His leadership. If you don't follow, He will, in fact, get behind you and push. Let's hope I can figure out what's going on before He wears the skin off my heels.
My office at Nelson - scary, huh?
Me in that office
More later...
I awoke this morning to the sounds of an asthmatic howler monkey...and no, I haven't suddenly been transported to the wilds of some foreign jungle. Although . . . it has been a bit of adventure.
Rachel's full dose of prednisone finally kicked in.
The doc, worried about how bad Rachel was, hit her with a z-pack and 40 mg a day of prednisone. 20 in the morning and 20 at night. For the first couple of days, the illness kept the side effects under control, but as she improved...
At 5:45 this morning, she screamed at the top of her lungs, rattling the windows. Apparently, the strange cursing noises from Mama's bedroom amused her - the scream was followed by hysterical giggles, then a juicy fit of coughing. She hacked, spit, and swallowed...then screamed again. More giggles. Another coughing fit. Rachel, in one of her "I will not be ignored" moods.
Even though I had found my glasses, I still ran into the doorframe. (Mind you, I had only gotten 5 hours sleep, since the last treatments and suctioning had happened around 11pm. By the time I unwound and got ready for bed, it was almost 1am.) Still, an early start for a child in her condition is a good thing, even if Mama is weaving around the room like a drunken cheetah trying to focus on prey. And the maze of the wheelchair, the tubes on her Vest and aerosol machine, the metal legs on the hospital bed, and the couch, convinced me that I need either to move to a bigger house or to sleep in steel-toed hiking boots. I completed her first treatments and meds by 6:30. I put in Beauty and the Beast and lay back down.
Sleep? Well...she is still laced with prednisone. Then there's the little matter of the next door neighbor's burglar alarm.
Life with Rachel. After all, how many people do you know who can have an adventurous Sunday morning without ever getting out of their jammies?
Yesterday was one of the worst days of my editorial career. Because of one person's meltdown, I spent my entire day putting out a fire not of my making. I missed two deadlines, and three other projects fell farther behind because of it. Friday is my clean-up day, and I got to do none of the clean-up tasks.
And, of course, Rachel is still ill, and Thursday and early Friday moved into that touch of pneumonia/fighting-for-each-breath ill. I had already missed most of work on Thursday, and Friday, I had to cancel my trip to Alabama to help my mom. So in between fielding emails and phone calls with this person and three VPs (who were supportive and trying to help solve the issue), I was on the phone to my sitter to see if we needed to take Rachel to the ER. One phone call (not about Rachel) got so rough I broke down, and hung up, finally giving in to the sobs and tears. I called my VP and said, "I can't do this anymore!" I didn't get lunch until 2pm, by which time I was shaking furiously.
Did I mention that when I did get home for a 10-minute lunch, the dog peed on the carpet?
By 4pm, I was a screaming maniac with a sinus headache. People were coming out of the woodwork to offer hugs and tissue, and one of my VPs lovingly suggested I do something about the twin streaks of mascara on my face. But I think we got the issue resolved. I won't know for sure until Monday morning. While Kim kept Rachel earlier in the day, Phyllis had taken over by 3, and, after I got through venting, she insisted we order pizza and chill out. Still hovering over Rachel, we munched pizza and watched The Water Horse, a really cute kid's film, which is just what I needed.
Phyllis's sister also spent the night, and the three of us kept a bit of a parade going through the night, checking to make sure Rachel was still breathing.
Today is better. Rachel is still a mess, but less of a mess than the past three days. I'm still angry (although I'm praying about it), and I still have a sinus headache. But except for the exertions of Rachel's treatment (The Vest, as well as three aerosol treatments, pills and suctioning), the day has been relatively peaceful.
In part because I finished watching a movie I've had from Netflix for a very long time, Into Great Silence. One of the more unusual films I've seen lately, IGS is a year long look at the lives of the monks of Grande Chartreuse, the head monastery of the reclusive Carthusian Order in France. They live the majority of their lives in silence, but as the camera follows them, you begin to see the value and honesty in these simple lives of meditation and faith. There is no musical soundtrack, only the echoes of their lives, and the peace of it became quite contagious.
Of course, I also talked to my former mother-in-law for awhile. She'd sent Rachel a birthday gift, and I had forgotten how much she made me laugh.
I needed the quiet. The destressing from work if not from Rachel. And the reminder, via IGS of the immeasurable value in prayer and the silent moments of our lives.
I had planned to post yesterday, since it was my birthday and I thought that a good time to mention new goals. But...life has been a little...um...complex this week. Actually, the last ten days or so, ever since the layoffs. And this week Rachel has been ill with her annual spring "let's see how congested I can get" frolic. I missed much of yesterday at work, and I need to go tonight to my mom's and help more this weekend. Kim and Phyllis deserve a raise for all they've done to help.
Yesterday, I appealed to my editor for an extension on the book, so now I can focus on getting my sessions ready for Blue Ridge, finish a contest, and work on the weak spots of the book.
The good news of the week was a pat on the back from the Lories. :) I finalled in the From the Heart Romance Writers "Best Proposal" contest - AKA "the Lories." Competition is tough, but it does put my work in front of an interesting group of folks for the final judging.
So...as it is with a lot of life, good flows alongside the bad. Time to count blessings.