Bad Reviews by Poppy Gee

What advice do you have for new authors on reviews? Do you read reviews? What is the best ever review you’ve received? What’s the worst and most hilarious? Share it with us!

An effective piece of writerly advice is to go online and read the one-star reviews of your favourite authors. It's perversely pleasurable and reassuring to be reminded that even bestselling authors get bad reviews.

Can you guess which bestselling author received this shocker? 

Oh but then it gets so so so much worse. Just a few hours after the wifey leaves, the author introduces a hot young Yankee law student, who is rich and smart. Despite her being over qualified for the job she begs Jake to let her "carry his briefcase" and work as his free law clerk. This bra-less (yes they mention that she is bra-less at least 5 times in the book) scantly clad liberal lady throws herself at Jake again and again. Of course he dutifully denies her. Why is this character introduced? To feed the male fantasy of course. What's hotter than lording over a smart strong woman who happily follows your every bidding and drools over your amazingness...

Oh, dear. Poor John Grisham. As a fan of his work, I don’t agree with this take at all. In this next review, the reader describes all the things they hated, which are the things I like about Patricia Highsmith:

This novel moves at a dismally slow pace. The reader has to wade through more than 100 pages before any real hint of a plot appears. The story line is weak and drawn out with repeative descriptions of topography and bland dialog. I only finished it because I paid handsomely for it.

Another reader admitted: 

At one point, I actually chose to scrub my bathtub instead of sitting down to finish the book...

Ouch. Poor Patricia Highsmith.

It’s a good idea to avoid looking at reviews for a few weeks or months after your book first comes out. Unless you’re a professional actor, it’s hard to do publicity or events after reading a sharply worded account of the disappointment and dismay you’ve wreaked on an innocent reader.

But after the excitement and anxiety of launch fades, it can be productive to read your reviews. Do this analytically. See if there are some common reactions. For me, many readers were frustrated by my ambiguous ending in BAY OF FIRES. That’s something I won’t repeat, or at least, I’ll work harder to make sure my next endings are stronger.

My worse reviews are etched into my aching heart:

God Awful

That was it. I felt terrible for that poor reader. And then this one:

The ending was so bad I wanted to throw the book against the wall when I finished, but it was an iPad so I couldn’t.

Ouch. Poor me!

The best one I ever got was in a newspaper where the reviewer likened my writing to Annie Proulx. That was lovely to read.

Reviews are for readers. Try not to worry too much. 

If you’re feeling disheartened by a particularly vicious one star, pour a nice cold drink and head to your favourite author’s Goodreads page. It works a dream!

One Star, Shining in the Darkness, by Catriona

What advice do you have for new authors on reviews? Do you read reviews? What is the best ever review you’ve received? What’s the worst and most hilarious? Share it with us!

I read trade reviews when I'm lucky enough to get them - the Wall Street Journal said "Hitchcock-like suspense" about The Dead Room and all of a sudden I know what my first tattoo would be. 

And I read Amazon reader reviews too - but with one proviso: I read them about books I'm maybe going to buy and read. That's what they're for. I don't read Amazon reviews of my books; they're not for me. 

So my advice to new authors would be - don't read your Amazon reviews. Don't read the five-star ones and don't read the one-star ones. They're not for you! It's impossible not to see how many reviews you've got and what the overall star-rating is but you don't need to click through.

I'm a hard-core non-clicker - I don't click on anything online that I didn't specifically search for - so it's easy. Hang on, sometimes I click on things that friends send me. At the moment that's mostly videos of very refreshed Scots being jolly in Boston.  

My favourite review was probably the first one I ever got. Stuart Kelly writing in the Scotsman called me "an exemplary crime-writer". You could have fanned me flat with an eyelash. And I was already so cool and professional that I immediately wrote to him to say thank you. Shudder. He was kind enough not to say anythimg about that when I met him at a festival soon after. 

My funniest review was from another UK newspaper - I genuinely can't remember which one - that accused me of not writing tartan noir. Um, guilty as charged, m'lud. It's not actually obligatory to write disaffected cops in seedy settings because you're a Celt. Right? It was such a bizarre complaint. 

I do love a good stupid review, mind you - almost as much as I love a good non-apology - and the one-star reader reviews of inarguably five-star books are a rich seam. I'll never forget the review of Pride and Prejudice that called it "an older and more boring Bridget Jones". Oh burn. Or the review of Catch-22 that said "It's like Mark Twain's Huck Finn, just an endless barrage of needless prose, instead of focusing on plot and character development by showing not telling". Oy-oy, I thought, someone's taken a class and reckons Twain and Heller would have got a lot out of it too. Brilliant.

Cx

Do You Trust the Source?

  

What advice do you have for new authors on reviews? Do you read reviews? What is the best ever review you’ve received? What’s the worst and most hilarious? Share it with us!

 

My advice to authors about reviews is simple: DON’T.

 

The easy answer, which is not a cop-out, is to say that the writer you are today is not the writer you will be tomorrow. If you are serious about writing, let your skills unfold naturally. Listen to yourself first. Trust yourself. If you have an editor, that should be enough. A good editor will show you the gaps and force you to think about your skills and structure. Agree or disagree, the friction should force you to question your intentions and capabilities.

 

Reviews are different, though they are supposed to be unbiased.

 

Think of reviews as drinking water. You go to the sink, run the tap, and fill a glass. Water should be clear and tasteless. It’s a public commodity from a trusted source. Most people never think about where it came from, who tested it, or whether the pipes between the reservoir and the faucet did their job.

 

Sites such as Amazon and Goodreads are public, a democratization of opinion.

 

The Good is that readers no longer have to depend on the arbiters of culture, those newspaper critics who decided what deserved attention.

 

The Bad is, to paraphrase Thomas Jefferson on democracy, the review you get is the review you deserve.

 

The Ugly is trolls and the complete absence of standards. Nobody agrees on what those stars mean. There are no half-stars. Is it a B+ book awarded a B because of the editing? A four star book merits three or two stars because a stray wet gremlin ruined the formatting? Then there are paid reviews, and the occasional author who uses an alias to knock down another writer.

 

The Absurd are the nonsense reviews we’ve all read: “Three stars. Book arrived damaged” or my favorite, “Five stars. DNF.”

 

An algorithm replaces word of mouth, which is how books are found now. The reality is that the marketplace is vast and the field uneven. Publishers publish what they think will pay their rent. Bookstores stock what they think will sell or what they can return to a warehouse. Marketing budgets matter. Money matters, while authors just want to be read.

 

Most of my reviews have been glowing, but the funniest one came after I had the book (now out of print) reissued. Context: the book had profanity in it, and I tend to use profanity as a pressure release, so it’s never gratuitous. Before I reissued it, I systematically un-F’d my manuscript.

 

Lo and behold, a generally positive review appeared, except for one criticism: the author resorted to profanity.

 

Confused, I did a word search for all the usual suspects. The offending epithet?

 

A single use of the word damn.

 

It would be nice if readers gathered and discussed my novel while they enjoyed an aperitif. That’s how art survives. That’s how word of mouth works.

 

The paradox is that writers know all of this and yet we seek validation from reviews. We’ve all done it. We’re human. Like all humans, we need water to survive. Just remember that not every glass is clean. Look at the water, smell it first, and then decide whether you really want to drink it.

 

Trust the source because it might just kill you (or so says Adrian Monk).

To Read or Not to Read...

 

What advice do you have for new authors on reviews?

The most consistent advice I’ve received as a newer author is, don’t read the reviews. I didn’t get that advice, at first, but time has taught me the error of my ways, as it does. I won’t say that I am 100% cured of my affection for a great review, especially if it says something like, I read this book in one setting because I couldn’t put it down. For me that is that review is the chef’s kiss of reviews. But it is no longer an obsession. When my book first released, I sat huddling over my phone refreshing it every few seconds watching and reading every review as it rolled in, trying not to care too much, while feeling like my whole life depended on those words. With every good review, my pride soared through the roof. I had never been so happy and confident, sure that those words written by some stranger, proved that I was to be a writer.

So, what’s so bad about that? Nothing. Not really. But what about when the review says, and it will, eventually, because there’s no pleasing everyone, and trolls, “this book was the worst book I ever read.” What happens to all that pride then? It’s a strange, but very human trait, our ability to believe the worst far easier than the good. I’m sure that’s not true for all, but it’s true for a lot of writers I’ve met. Maybe it’s because of what the great Erykah Badu said, “I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit.” But a bad review will stick in your craw like a popcorn husk stuck in your back tooth. You’ll still be trying to understand exactly what they meant, long after the buzz from all those previous five-star reviews are long gone. So, you have to ask yourself, is it worth it?

Being a writer was not only hard to do; it was hard to even dream about. There weren’t a lot of successful writers in my neighborhood. In fact, becoming an actual writer with books in a bookstore or a library seemed as big a dream as being Michael Jackson, fantastical and unrealistic. So, achieving that dream deserves to be acknowledged by applause, a pat on the back, or a review.

But maybe, like everything else, in moderation. I don’t think it’s anything wrong with celebrating your own success. I admit that I have snuck a peak or two at some of my reviews, the good ones and the stinkers. The good ones for an ego boost. But sometimes the bad ones can provide some insight, especially if the bad ones start to reveal a trend. It’s not nice, but if everyone mentions, the same issue, I’d probably take note. I once got a one-star review that simply said, “not my type of book.” Best one-star review ever.

So read them, or not. Use the good ones as a pick me up, the bad ones for whatever they can teach you, if anything. As long as you don’t try to write to the opinion of others and remember reviews are simply opinions. And as we all know, opinions are like…I think you know the rest.

 

 

 

 

Publicity | Making the right choice by Faye Snowden

This week's question: After your book is released and the publicity campaign for its grand entrance nears completion, how do you keep your book on the red carpet and in the spotlight? 

This week’s question identifies a precise moment in my life. My latest book, A Killing Breath, was released on April 17th to respectable reviews. It debuted #5 in the African American mystery and suspense category on Amazon. In the middle of its publicity campaign, I was on deadline for the fourth and final book of the series, A Killing Earth. Amid the writing and rewriting, the tearing out of hair, the book signings, and festivals, I was finally able to send Earth off to the publisher. 

After the publicity campaign for Breath concluded, I was truly and frustratingly exhausted. The burnout was real. All I wanted was to lie in the summer sun, sip my whisky and read a book that I did not write. 

Which brings me back to this week’s question and this moment. After peaking at #5, Breath Amazon’s ranking fell. It was like someone popped a balloon. I know that it wasn’t the only book to do so after the launch concluded and the publicity waned. As authors we understand that. The demand for publicity is like that monster at the end of a horror movie that keeps popping up for one last jump scare before its final demise. Except publicity is immortal. And it’s gluttonous. As authors, we are compelled to keep it fed.

So, what can we do to keep our books alive? Writers responding to this week’s question have offered some fine advice. I’ve also given it some thought. We could mine our books for material to use in blog posts, articles, and on social media. We could make deleted scenes and chapters available on our websites or in our author newsletters, create a Pinterest mood board reflective of our setting. And those research rabbit holes? They are gold. For example, in Earth the killer buries his victims alive. I spent an age researching people who started the journey to the graveyard with their hearts still beating. There was this one story about someone who sat up in the casket at his own funeral and asked for a drink of water. 

No need to stop there. 

We could tie events from our books to events in the real world as long as we are thoughtful. My book is set in a fictional town called Byrd’s Landing, Louisiana. It would be crass for me to use a real-world hurricane as a promotional opportunity, but October 12th, National Gumbo day? Fair game. And there are the opportunities we can glean from relationships we cultivate with local librarians, book clubs, and independent bookstores. We could find community through organizations such as Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and Crime Writers of Color. Aside from getting the word out about our books, the conversations with fellow bibliophiles and authors would be well worth the trouble. 

We can choose to do all or none of these things. Another option would be to focus on one or two that we can fit into our lives already filled to brimming with our day job or jobs, grandkids with their sweet grubby little hands, gardens and cookouts, baseball games and Sunday dinners, all of which brings me to my last point. 

There is one choice we cannot make if we want to stay true to who we are. Writers must write. Feed the publicity monster when required, but after a launch draft the next book while remembering the words of Ray Bradbury: 

The Pros and Cons of Writing a Series By Rob Hart

Jim: Today we welcome Rob Hart to 7 Criminal Minds. Rob is the author of the terrific five-book Ash McKenna series of PI novels. As great as those books were, Rob wanted to reach a larger audience via a Big Five publisher. (Wouldn’t we all?) He certainly accomplished that—and how—with his breakout hit, The Warehouse. I’ll let him tell us about the challenges and rewards of writing a series. His latest release, Three Hitmen and a Baby, is the third of Assassins Anonymous series. Three Hitmen and a Baby hits bookstores next Tuesday, June 16. 

**********

My first novel came out in 2015. New Yorked was a punk-rock hardboiled novel following an amateur private investigator named Ash McKenna. It was an origin story, about the kind of person who might become a PI later in life.

It was received pretty well for a small press book, and I wrote four more in the series, closing out with Potter’s Field in 2018. I had sent Ash around the country, and then the world, before bringing him back home.

It was immensely rewarding, and I loved telling his story.

And when I was done, I never wanted to write a series again.

My next two books, The Warehouse and The Paradox Hotel, were standalones. They were bigger swings, and got me into the Big Five league of publishing.

The thing about writing a series is: unless you’re picked up as a TV show or a movie, or you really explode with readers for some unknowable reason, then there’s a degree of diminishing returns. You’ll watch your sales dip slowly, release after release, because it’s harder to get a new reader to tune into the third book in a series. They feel overwhelmed at the idea that they might need to read two other books just to understand what’s happening.

And given that we’re all currently being crushed under the heel of relentless late-stage capitalism, who even has time to read anymore? Every series book you write should work as a standalone, and I’m sure some people picked up the second or third or fourth book, not knowing about the others, and probably had a good time.

But it can eventually feel like you’re inviting people to a Tupperware party.

Plus, it’s hard to remember stuff over the course of five books! By the time I got to the fifth, I could barely remember what I put in the first. So it was nice, with The Warehouse and The Paradox Hotel, to build a sandbox, blow it up, and walk away.

Then came Assassins Anonymous.

It’s probably the best elevator pitch I’ve ever come up with: a John Wick-level assassins gets into a 12-step recovery program for killers. I wrote the book the same way I always do, assuming it would be the last book I ever write because why in the world does anyone let me do this for a living? 

But Putnam had signed me to a two-book deal, so when it came time to discuss that second book, the word “sequel” was floated. And that’s the thing about the Assassins concept; it supports a series. You’ve got multiple killers from different walks of life, you’ve got the 12 steps to work, and the container created by the program and the no-killing vow.

It didn’t hurt that when Steven Spielberg and Amblin optioned it, they were envisioning a series of films, and were keen for me to build out more of the world.

So last year we got The Medusa Protocol, still featuring Mark, the narrator of the first book, but shifting the camera a bit to include another member, and her POV.

Come June 16, the third book hits: Three Hitmen and a Baby. And I’ve already filed the fourth, called City of Killers, due to come out, most likely, next June. 

There’s something really comforting about writing a series. It’s like slipping on a well-worn pair of shoes. I know these voices, I know these characters. I enjoy digging deeper into who they are, and looking for new aspects of their lives—and their recovery—to explore.

I got lucky, too: when the first book in the series came out in paperback last year, Barnes & Noble picked it as their June mystery and thriller pick. We moved an enormous amount of copies, and it’s still selling pretty well, a year later.

Had that not happened, I’m not sure we would have made it to a third and fourth book.

The Medusa Protocol did not sell as many copies. Again, second book in a series. But we’re hopeful that since so many people picked up the first, it’s going to be a slow burn, and it’ll continue to do steady sales.

Now my contract with Putnam is up, and I’m at a crossroads. I like working with them, and I love my editor Daphne, so it’d be nice to stick around. I could write more Assassins books. I also wrote an ending for the fourth book that, if we decided to move on, or even hit pause for a bit, I think it would be satisfying to readers who’ve stuck with the characters.

I’m not tired of writing them, but we need to look at what the market will support, and how the movie is developing. Plus, I’ve got a lot of ideas. It’d be nice to mix in a standalone or two. Blow up some sandboxes. Try out some new stuff.

Who knows. I’ll figure it out. I’ve got time.

Now, this is where we bring it back to being somewhat instructional, because as a freelance editor and a mentor in Seton Hill’s MFA program, that’s just how I roll…

A lot of aspiring authors envision their first book to be the start of a series, and I get asked this all the time: should I pitch it as a series, write multiple books, etc?

And the answer is no. The chances of selling a series straight out of the gate is pretty low—especially if you’re a debut. Most publishers don’t want to commit to the second book in a series until they see how the first one does… or if you can even sell books in the first place.

You can write that sequel or trilogy or quadilogy or whatever. But that first book needs to work as a standalone. It needs to feel satisfying if it ends up being the only part of the story. No cliffhangers. No prologues.

When you’re querying agents or talking to editors, it’s okay to say a book has series potential, or that you’re working on a second one in case there’s interest in more. But don’t expect anyone to pick it up sight-unseen.

Thems the breaks. Publishing is a business, not a meritocracy.

And you need to go into it knowing that while writing a series is fun, you might not get lucky enough to finish it.

That all sounds very discouraging. I don’t mean it to. Go out there, have fun, leave your heart on the field. Because while writing a series can be a little challenging, and there are things to keep in mind about the reality, it can also be a hell of a lot of fun.

Oh, one final note: the Ash books are currently out of print. Bummer! When Polis closed I decided to hold onto my rights, because there’s been some movement on the TV side—some very cool people are attached to a brilliant pilot script. So I’m waiting to see how that works out before seeing if someone will bring them back into print.

Say a little prayer, cross your fingers, or just send some good vibes…

XX

Rob Hart is the USA TODAY bestselling author of the Assassins Anonymous series. The latest entry, Three Hitmen and a Baby, comes out June 16. He also wrote The Warehouse, which was translated into more than 20 languages, and The Paradox Hotel, which was nominated for both a Lambda Literary Award and Japan's Seiun Award. He co-wrote Scott Free with James Patterson, the novel Dark Space with Alex Segura, the comic book Blood Oath, also with Segura, and the novel Detour with Jeff Rake, creator and showrunner of TV's Manifest. He currently teaches in Seton Hill's Writing Popular Fiction MFA, and lives in Jersey City. Find him at www.robwhart.com.

 

Keep the glow-up

After your book launches and the big publicity wave dies down, how do you keep it happily alive when the spotlight moves on?

by Dietrich

You did it! Your new release made its grand entrance. The launch party was a blast, the champagne flutes are cleared away, and just like that…

Crickets.

Welcome to the afterparty—that phase after you’ve sat there grinning, waiting for the chirp to be replaced by the roar of soaring sales. It’s when your book steps out without a full entourage of publicists holding up its train, and you accept that the spotlight has wandered over to someone else’s shiny new release.

And you know what? That’s okay.

Sure, you’d love to keep the buzz going, but deep down, you knew the fireworks were never meant to last. At this point, you settle in, roll up your sleeves and get to work. You post fresh content on your website and socials — glowing reviews, behind-the-scenes rabbit holes from your research, deleted scenes that still have some life in them, and silly extras like “If My Book Were a Cocktail” (because readers oddly love that kinda stuff). Every new post is another little spark, another reason for readers and algorithms to rediscover your book.

You know happy accidents only happen when you stay in the game. So, you rack your brain for promo ideas because you know your book has legs, and you’re determined to help it along. You’ll gladly send copies to book clubs, jump on Zoom calls as a guest author, say yes to podcasts, and cheerfully haunt local bookstores for signings. You team up with fellow authors, join panels, and pray that your book gets passed around like the literary hot potato it deserves to be.

And when you’ve done all you can, you get to do the best thing of all: sit at your desk and start writing the next book. Because nothing breathes fresh life into your backlist like a new frontlist title. Readers who loved your last book will suddenly remember you, and your older stories get to come out and play again.

You picture someone handing their well-loved copy of your debut to a friend, saying, “You’ve got to read this.”

And one day soon… you’ll do it all over again. New book. New launch party. Champagne flowing. Publicity wave cresting…

And yes — probably more crickets.

But you’re in the game, and you love it because nothing beats it.

Part coming-of-age story and part family drama, set against the harsh backdrop of World War II Ukraine and Germany.

In the winter of 1945, a German village deep inside Ukraine burns under Russian assault. Young Jakob Fritsch, torn from his family, is forced onto a cattle car bound for a work camp where death looms. When a Stuka’s bomb derails the train, Jakob escapes the smoking wreckage alongside two untrustworthy survivors. They forge through snow-laden wilderness, hunted by soldiers and partisans.

A tragic turn forces Jakob to go on alone. Starving and freezing, he braves the perilous countryside of Poland en route to Berlin — the only place he can go — which is being torn apart from all sides.

Far away in the shattered outskirts of Berlin, Frida Beckmann lives amid relentless bombing raids and encroaching Soviet forces. With her father in a prison camp and her mother broken by grief, Frida shoulders the weight of her family’s survival. Tested by hardship, betrayal, and loss, she is pushed well beyond her years.

Jakob and Frida navigate their war-torn paths, struggling to survive in a time stripped of mercy — seeking refuge when all the world’s gone mad.

After The Party

 

Terry here, with our question of the week: After your book is released and the publicity campaign for its grand entrance nears completion, how do you keep your book on the red carpet and in the spotlight? 

 If there was ever a topic I know nothing about, this is it! I see ads for books published months ago and their authors are regaled as if their books just came out. How do they do it? First, by writing a good book. But second, by using every available means to keep their names out there. And I'm not even sure what that means. What are the available means? Do they hire publicists to help them, or do they do the publicity work themselves? Have they had success with ads keepint their name our there or is there some other magic at work. For sure, it takes persistence.

 High-volume, high-recognition authors can go for long spells between books without losing momentum. I’m thinking of someone like Deborah Crombie, whose books come out sporadically, and yet they are snapped up immediately when they are published. (That’s because they are so damn good!) She’s not the target of my questions about keeping books in the spotlight. 

 I’m talking about the many mid-list authors whose books I think write amazing books, and who publish only once in a while, and whose books languish. They have to fight for every inch of review space, for every inch of bookstore shelf space, for every dollar they earn. How can they keep their books front and center? 

 I fall in a similar category: authors who come out with two books a year, and yet in between the roll-out, the books go into that never-land where mid-list authors flail. For the first eight books of my Samuel Craddock series, I consistently got positive reviews, bookstore signings, and invitations for speaking events. But gradually the reviews have disappeared, I can’t interest bookstores in hosting me for signings, and the speaking events are few and far between. I still get great fan mail, and have a good, consistent base of readers, but the advertising dollars I spend don’t seem to move the needle on sales. I know I'm not alone in this. And it's happening at the same time that most publishers seem to spend resources only on their top-tier authors. 

 A couple of years ago, I started a new series, the Jessie Madison thriller series featuring a scuba diver. Although I’ve had great response from readers, and I sell enough so my publisher contracts for another book, but reviews, signings and speaking events haven’t materialized. I suspect it’s because my talent for self-promotion is low-grade. I’d rather be writing. 

But… There are authors I admire who seem to have unlimited energy for self-promotion (and I do not mean that in a negative sense). I’m dazzled at their ability to come up with snappy tag lines, clever ways of displaying their books, and interacting with their readers. For their ability to entice bookstores to host them. And for their unrelenting persistence. Plus, they still have time to write books! 

 I’ve spent money putting ads in crime fiction magazines, in social media, and in websites designed to boost authors. And I honestly can’t say any of it ever seems to do any good. I recently had an idea for a promo, and I mentioned it to a fellow author. She was highly enthusiastic and said, “Just slap it out there on Amazon for x$.” I knew she would have done that in a heartbeat, but it made me tired just thinking of what had to be done to “just slap it out there.” 

It’s possible, just possible, that I am a throwback, who should have been writing in the days when publishers said, “Just bring me a good book, we’ll do the rest.” But more likely, I’m like many, many mid-list authors who have no talent for and no energy for self-promotion. And no unlimited budget to pay for someone to do it for me. 

 So, if you are looking to me for advice about keeping a book in the spotlight, my advice is to ask someone else!

All the things I wish I did... - by Matthew Greene

After your book is released and the publicity campaign for its grand entrance nears completion, how do you keep your book on the red carpet and in the spotlight?

I'll be honest. This prompt was tricky.

Not because it's a bad question. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's something I've grappled with for years. Because, if I'm being honest, I didn't do a great job keeping my book in the spotlight after its "grand entrance."

And I can't blame anyone but myself. I heard over and over again: "Even with a traditional publisher, marketing falls to the author." And I thought I'd done what I needed to do. I set up social media pages, I made friends at conferences, I put together bookstore events in the first couple weeks to peddle my book from coast to coast! 

But it never seemed to be enough. I earned out my advance, but sales numbers never exploded the way I hoped. I got good reviews, but the buzz wasn't strong enough to make the book a hit. I saw the book resonate with readers, but I still kept being told it wasn't resonating enough. Wasn't reviewed enough. Wasn't selling enough. 

I'll pause for a moment, because I'm starting to sound like a bit of "sad sack," which isn't my intention. Sure, I had plenty of frustrating days. There were plenty of times when I wondered what magic I could do to sell a book whose marketing I didn't control, whose price I didn't get a say in, whose destiny rested solely in my hands after so many decisions had been made for me. 

Well, let me try and answer those questions for young(er) Matthew. Because, the truth is, there is plenty I could have done differently. Plenty I will do differently the next time around. Allow me to name a few...

I would have started sooner. A few months before my book release, Barnes & Noble ran a pre-order promo, and it was the first time I heard from the marketing team at the publisher. They encouraged me to get the word out to my "network." And I truly didn't know what they meant. I had my social media followers, of course, but those were mostly friends and family who had already ordered the book if they felt so inclined. There was an assumption, I realized, that I'd done the work to build a community of readers. (Of course, you might ask, what readers are going to follow a writer before he has a book out that they can read? But I digress...) I realized with a sinking sensation that I was already too late to feed the marketing machine. No one was coming to save me, as they say, and I had a very small community to sell to. Maybe I should have built a brand somehow, maybe I should have started a podcast, maybe I should have paid to boost posts on Instagram...but whatever path I chose, I should have started as soon as the book deal was signed.

I would have focused more on individuals, less on institutions. There's a temptation to think too big as a first-time author. I had it in my head that if I got the right high-profile press coverage, the right sexy book launch event, the right the right endorsement...everything will work out. In fact I did get some good coverage (humble brag alert: Library Journal Starred Review) and a launch event at the Drama Book Shop where I was interviewed by a famous actress (more humble brags, maybe). But none of that mattered nearly as much as the personal connections I forged one-on-one with readers who connected with the book. These were the people creating positive word of mouth. These were the people requesting the book in libraries and bookstores. These, ultimately, were the people I was writing for. For every one influencer, publication, or gatekeeper I'd tried to get to pay attention to my book, I wish I'd taken the time to personally connect with ten (or one hundred!) real readers. Because that's what it's all about.

I would have built a following around me, not just the book. As a writer, I want nothing more than to hide behind my work. My god, if I wanted to be front-and-center, I would have become an actor! But I chose a path that I thought would allow me to fade into the background and let my work shine. Wrong! In today's creative economy, personal brand rules all. My catchphrase for the months leading up to and following the release of my first novel was, "Read the book!" But the invitation—the call-to-action, as the real marketers say—should have been based about investment in me. I needed to give readers something to support and follow after they'd read and (hopefully) enjoyed There's No Murder Like Show Murder. In a world where I don't get to control the when or the how of the second book in this series, I ceded too much control to the publisher. I needed to figure out my own answer to the question I'd inevitably get: "Okay, I liked the book. Now what?" The good news is, I'm currently working on an answer to that question. Watch this space.

Sometimes I want to go back in time a couple years and shake the clueless version of me that let so many opportunities slip through his fingers. But there were wins, as well, Triumphs I have to remind myself to celebrate. Without forgetting the hard-won truths that will make my next go-round even more successful.

I hope something in here might prompt someone else to avoid a mistake I made. But I hope that "someone," whoever they are, is kind to themselves about the myriad unique mistakes they will make. It's all a learning process, after all. 

And next time will be better.

And finally, a palate cleanser (above). The morning of my book launch, giddy with possibility, brimming with pride. May we all feel that way again. And soon.

Writer's Odyssey by Poppy Gee

How do you know when your book is complete and ready to be sent to the publisher for its final journey to the bookstore shelf? 

This is such a good question, and I have two answers. 1. You need to give yourself permission to decide your novel is finished. 2. Don't ever send it off before its ready.

I once met a woman who had been working on her art history PhD for eleven years. A PhD usually takes four years full time. The woman kept changing bits, editing and tweaking. She was not a happy person - she'd spent all her twenties working on this one project, and not doing anything else. No job. Nothing. She seemed haunted, dissatisfied, anxious and worried. Her doctorial thesis haunted her friends and family, too, who privately told me that the unfinished work was a terrible cloud that hung over every interaction with her. This woman talked about her thesis all the time, not in a positive way, but like it was a ball and chain she dragged around with her. 

Not many projects are worth this time and misery. Unless you're Michelangelo who, spent four years and up to eighteen hours a day standing on scaffold to paint the Sistine Chapel ceiling in Vatican City. The key question to ask is, are you enjoying your work? If so, keep tinkering. Otherwise, turn it in. 

I wrote my first published novel while I was doing a Creative Writing Masters in Philosphy at University of Queensland. My supervisor, award winning literary fiction writer Venero Armanno, gave me excellent advice. I'd finished my manuscript, we had workshopped it in the classes and critique groups. I won a coveted spot to show the first twenty pages to a publisher via a local writers festival. Afterward, I reported back to my supervisor.

"The editor gave me encouraging feedback, including some tips to make changes," I told Venero. "But she didn't offer me a book deal. Should I make the changes before I start submitting it?"

"No," he said, vehemently. "If you make changes based on what every different person tells you, you'll drive yourself mad. Wait until someone loves it so much they want to publish it, then make the changes they suggest."

You, and only you, need to decide when it's finished. It's your project, you must trust your gut instinct when you feel you've put everything into it. However, there are some things you must consider before you send it to a publisher. 1. Ask some appropriate people to read it and give feedback. 2. Make sure you've done the appropriate research or consultation, particularly if you're writing outside your lived experience. 3. Proof read it. 

The 1966 surf documentary Endless Summer by Bruce Brown follows two professional surfers as they travel the globe, chasing the perfect wave. They surf the symmetrical right-hand point breaks in Cape St. Francis, South Africa, the reef breaks in Tahita, the legendary barrels of Waikiki Beach in Hawaii, and remote coasts in Senegal, Ghana and Nigeria where they teach the locals to surf. The point of their odyssey is the joy and the pleasure. There is no end point. They'll never find the perfect wave, and it doesn't matter. It's the journey, not the destination, that matters. 

How Do You Know When Your Book Is Done

   

How do you know when your book is complete and ready to be sent to the publisher for its final journey to the bookstore shelf?

You don’t.

That’s the comforting news I bring to you today.

Because language is imprecise and malleable, I don't believe a manuscript is ever truly done. At some point, you simply have to stop revising and release the thing into the wild where strangers may love it, ignore it, or use it to prop up a wobbly coffee table.

Perfectionism is the problem, and it is a vicious little carnival ride.

You find something wrong. You fix it.

You feel satisfied for approximately fourteen minutes, then revisit the manuscript and revise it again because suddenly your detective “would never say that” and chapter twelve feels “emotionally dishonest.”

You fuss with the manuscript until you can no longer tell whether you are improving it or simply exhausting yourself.

Just when you think you finally have it right, your beta readers tell you it is wonderful. Your inner critic immediately informs you they are merely being polite. They want you to stop texting them paragraphs that begin with, “Be honest, though…”

Because writers, especially crime writers, are suspicious by nature. We spend our days inventing lies, hiding clues, and imagining terrible outcomes. Of course we assume everyone secretly hates our manuscript.

Then your editor blesses it, and you think all is right on God’s green earth. You line up blurbs. You approach that writer you deeply admire and try to sound casual. You begin to picture your finished novel sitting proudly in stores.

And then it happens.

The typo.

Not a tiny typo hidden in the acknowledgments. A gigantic typo on page one that somehow survived you, your beta readers, your editor, and the copy editor.

You question everything.

How long have you been illiterate? Were you always illiterate?

This is the moment every writer faces eventually: the realization that no book is perfect because books are created by humans, and humans make mistakes.

So how do you know the manuscript is done?

Not when it is flawless. That day never comes.

It is done when the story works. When the characters breathe. When the pacing holds. When you have revised it enough that further tinkering is no longer improving the book but merely soothing your anxiety.

There comes a point where revision becomes procrastination wearing a fake mustache.

That’s when you let go.

You send it off despite the fear, despite the lingering doubts, despite the certainty that six hours later you will think of the perfect line you should have written in chapter three.

That lingering dissatisfaction may actually be a good sign. It means you are still growing as a writer. If you reread your old work and think, “Magnificent. A flawless achievement,” you may have bigger problems than typos.

Every novel teaches you something for the next one. Not perfection. Progress.

Your task was never to create a perfect manuscript.

Your task was to finish the thing.