Showing posts with label Anne Rice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne Rice. Show all posts

Friday, December 5, 2014

Blog, Tweet, Meet and Greet

There are many different ways for promoting a new book. Which do you feel is the most effective?

by Paul D. Marks

It’s always hard coming at the end of the week.  Other people might have hit points that I hit, though I generally write my articles before our week even begins.  But great minds think alike and all of that ;)

I was going to start off by saying it’s a new world we’re living in with the internet and all.  But it’s not so new anymore, especially as things move more and more quickly all the time.  That said, the internet has opened up a whole new wealth of ways to promote your book. And whether you’re with a major publisher, mid-size or indie publisher you will most likely be the one promoting your book or at least doing 93% of it.

The major publishers push the big authors—you know, the ones who don’t really need it, like Stephen King, Anne Rice, Sue Grafton and John Grisham.  But you and your little book, whether you’re pubb’d by a major, a small publisher or an indie, and who could really use a push, well you’re on your own for the most part. But you can do it. It just takes time, effort and a little money. But not nearly as much money as ad campaigns used to take when your only outlets were print, radio and TV.

The internet gives us: Twitter. Facebook. Goodreads and other similar sites.

There’s also a ton of bloggers who review books or interview authors. Ads in things like E Reader News or Kindle Nation Daily or Kindle Review or the very expensive and choosy Book Bub. Even Facebook ads.

And, of course, there’s the old standbys: word of mouth and personal appearances at bookstores, libraries, reader groups, conventions (like Bouchercon, Malice, Left Coast), etc.

If you’ve got money you can hire a publicist. But, just like with anything or anyone else, some might be good, others not so good. And just because they work for a big company or have a fancy office doesn’t necessarily mean they’re better. When I was working in Hollywood my then-writing partner and I got William Morris as agents (have I told this one before?). We thought it was the best day of our lives.  Celebrated. Flying high. But it turned out to be the worst experience as we were the little fish in the big pond. (But I’ll leave the details for another time.) But the best agent I had was working out of his converted garage when I met him. And he hustled for me. And got me work.  And he was eventually picked up as a VP by another large agency and took me with him. The point I’m making here is don’t let the trappings of a big publicist (or publisher for that matter) fool you into thinking you can sit back and do nothing or let things slide

And today there’s a lot you can do yourself.  So even if you can’t afford a publicist it’s not the end of the world. The advantage of a publicist is that they might have lists or contacts of people who might be interested in your book.  They might be able to talk someone into running a piece on you and your book.  But lists can be bought and with persistence you can get the word out.

The bottom line is write a good book, get the word out any way you can. And hope for good word of mouth because that’s still the gold standard of promotion.  And not necessarily easy to obtain.  But if you have a good book and you’re persistent that just might happen for you.

As to which is the most effective, as the expression goes, there’s more than one way to skin a cat.*
There’s not one way that’s best or most effective. The most effective thing is a combination of various methods working symbiotically with each other. Each thing mentioned above works with and pays off each other, but you have to find what works for you. (And any old excuse to put in a cute cat pic.)



*No cats were skinned in the making of this blog post.



Friday, June 20, 2014

The Pinot Noir Grapes of Wrath

Does a great writer have to have a tortured soul? Why or why not?

by Paul D. Marks

Well of course the answer to this question is yes and no. How’s that for being unequivocal?

While many people think of writers, and artists in general, as having tortured souls, there’s no rule that says one must be tortured in order to be an artist.

So I wracked my brain trying to come up with some well-known writers whose names people would know who were happy and not tortured.

Zilch. Zero. Nada.

Couldn’t think of one.

We all know of the tortured writers of the present, past and near-past, Hemingway, Anne Rice, David Foster Wallace and possibly the queen of tortured writers, Sylvia Plath. The list is endless. And they created great art. But what about happy writers creating great art? Can it be done? The search for the happy writer continued.



I moved to the next step: checking the internet. And after a lot of searches, using different terms and ways of phrasing things, it seems I found one well-known writer who claims to be happy. Though when you see his name I think you’ll be surprised:

Philip Roth. Author of such happy-go-lucky stories as American Pastoral and Everyman.

According to Roth, and assuming the quote I found is correct ‘cause I never fully trust the net, he says, “I’m happy all the time, but a lot of people aren’t. I write about all those people. People in trouble make for interesting characters.”

So I guess even if the writer is happy the characters might not be and unhappy characters might make for more interesting characters.

I’m sure there’s other happy writers out there, but while the list of unhappy, tortured-soul writers is long and includes plenty of men and women, Roth is the only happy writer I could find.

This leads me to believe that many people who are tortured and scarred emotionally and/or psychologically one way or another perhaps go into writing as a way to exorcise those demons in the same way that it’s said that others with psychological problems go into psychology or psychiatry.

Artists of all kinds are said to be unhappy people: Comedians – most of them – are known to be unhappy in large measure. Lenny Bruce. John Belushi. Richard Pryor. Drug problems, early deaths in some cases. And musicians, from Beethoven and Kurt Cobain to Amy Winehouse and Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd. Fine artists like Edvard Munch, Georgia O’Keefe, Picasso, Gauguin, and, of course his pal, Van Gogh – all very depressed. The list in all of these categories is endless. And, of course, writers.

So maybe it is true that unhappy artists and writers – or characters – can reach into the depths of their souls, because they look inward – to touch some common threads that most of us wrestle with in our lives. And through their work we can see a mirror into ourselves and our society through which they can help us put things into perspective.

As for myself, I guess I would have to put myself on that long list of tortured souls. Without going into all the reasons why, I think if you asked people close to me, my wife and others, they would acknowledge that. And I would have to acknowledge it too.

That said, I don’t think a writer has to have a tortured soul. He or she just has to have a soul and enough introspection and empathy to be in touch with it so they give us a mirror to the world – give us something we as readers can relate to and connect with.

In the end, maybe writers – tortured souls or not – are like the pinot grapes that Paul Giamatti’s Miles character talks about in the movie Sideways. We are all, to one extent or another, pinot grapes in a cabernet world. He says:

Um, it’s a hard grape to grow, as you know. Right? It’s uh, it’s thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It’s, you know, it’s not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and uh, thrive even when it’s neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. You know? And in fact it can only grow in these really specific, little, tucked away corners of the world. And, and only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot’s potential can then coax it into its fullest expression. Then, I mean, oh its flavors, they’re just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and... ancient on the planet.