Caught Between a Rock and a Hard Place

I find myself in the weird no man's land of being a middle of the road writer. I'm not sure what else to call it.

I'm no longer a newbie. I have 54 novel-length individual works under my belt with another six collections of short stories. And that's  not counting the individual shorts in anthologies or simply haven't been published yet.

But I'm not quite where a lot of other writers I know are. The ones who don't pay attention to their income or what they spend because there's enough zeroes after the first digit.

My issue is there's not a lot of learning opportunities out there to help make that boost to the next level. And I can't make that leap without being honest. And, well, honesty hurts.

It hurts a lot.

Why? Because the current batch of newbies don't think you have anything to bitch about. The high rollers don't think they have anything in common with you. And the folks in your position are too busy feeling sorry for themselves for not reaching the next level.

So you end up out in the wilds, fending for yourself. Again. Because you don't belong anywhere else.

I will continue to to move forward because I'm like a shark. If I stop moving forward, I will die.

And that sucks worst of all.

Nerves

My task for today and tomorrow is to go through the formatted e-book of Hero De Facto. Once I sign off on it, my formatter will deliver the files, and I'll upload them to the various retailers.

The nerves are already hitting hard and fast, despite this being my 35th book to launch. As a friend said, it's textbook Psych 101. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of success. I'm afraid people will hate it. And it goes on ad nauseam.

Here's the thing, my publisher voice says none of it really matters. Here's your next deadline. Get this shit done!

My publisher has no time for my artist's existential crises because she knows it's all bullshit. It's one of the reasons I love her. *grin*

Little Green Monsters

I've talked about professional jealousy here before. It's an ugly insidious thing that eats the souls of good writers. I expect it out of newbies. It's damn hard not to get depressed when things seem to flow effortlessly for other writers. Hell, I've suffered from the condition myself, but I'm not proud of that fact.

In general, if it crops up in my head, I squash it with an imaginary shoe.

However, envy of those ahead of you makes more sense than the envy I'm seeing in my peers, i.e. those of us who were fourth-generation indies.

(In my head, I consider first generation to be the folks who self-published, I mean REALLY self-published, not vanity published, prior to any e-readers. Second generation are those transmitting PDFs or selling CDs. Third generation are those writers who jumped into the Kindle world first.)

Anyway, the folks with some initial success, who are still writing (not sailing naked--which is perfectly fine because I enjoy the pictures), now worry about staying on top of the heap. Staying on top isn't easy by any stretch of the definition. Algorithms change. Retailers crash. Old ways of advertising don't work anymore. The public's tastes shift to the latest shiny.

In other words, it's the same old-same old in publishing.

But because they were the first to hit it big in e-books and not sell out to the Big 5 publishing houses, they became accustomed to a certain income level. I'm not talking about the gold rush people, the ones that threw out a bunch of books in 2010 and 2011, then disappeared under the next wave of indie writers. I'm talking about the ones who've stuck with this crazy venture for the last five to ten years. The ones who've worked their asses off. The ones Data Guy revealed with his last Author Earnings report, and the folks just below them.

And the scary part is how many of them have said spiteful things about each other. On their blogs. On other people's blogs. On Facebook. On Twitter.

Part of me is a little jealous of their success. I could have been one of them if I hadn't floundered through personal shit from the summer of 2013 through the summer of 2017. I could have been a selfish bitch and said no when people needed me. In retrospect, maybe I should have. Only DH appreciated the effort I put out to help other family members.

On the other hand, maybe it's a good thing I essentially started over this year. I didn't become accustomed to a certain level of income. I didn't assume the gravy train and the glory would continue forever. And I didn't freak out during the 2016 downturn in the industry.

Because any significant income on my part had already faded by 2016. LOL

In other words, I can sit here and whine about the shitty hand I was dealt, and how life's so unfair.

Or I can write a story. And publish it. And be super fucking grateful that people are willing to plunk down their hard-earned money to buy my books.

Now, I can't say I will never feel a twinge when a friend says he or she landed a TV option deal. But I will be happy for them.

Because that's their path. Not mine.

Mine's still through that frickin' raspberry brambles, but I'm trying to remember to taste the fruit.

Writer Twitches

I'm closing to the finish of A Modicum of Truth, and the twitches have started.

I'm not sure how to explain the twitches. I haven't met another writer who admits to having them. It's this weird feeling in my brain, like an itch I cannot scratch. It happens when I'm having a ton of fun as the story starts its slide to home base.

I don't want the fun to end.

I need to find out what happens next.

The story took two detours away from my outline I wasn't expecting, and I let Subconscious take the driver's seat. She usually has some good instincts. And letting her have her way means I don't have to spend as much time layering the story. She pulled two subplots from A Matter of Death forward, and pushed one back. So either she did her job right, or readers are going to hate me.

Subconscious doesn't get the bullshit from readers, nor does she give a flying rat's ass what their opinion is.

(The readers don't realize I have three primary personalities and a host of sub-personalities. If they did, they'd be giving me the contact info for every shrink they know.)

And for the first time ever, I'm ending the book on a cliffhanger for one set of my heroes.

So I'm a little nervous about that. I think I've done it in a good way, more a The Empire Strikes Back type of ending than the second season finale of Preacher. (Seriously, dudes! Tulip?!)

But nerves over reader reaction and the twitches are two different things. Or maybe they are the same because the twitches are my reaction as first reader.

'Cause guess what? The me that writes this blog isn't the same me that writes the books. I'm the janitor, and I'm cleaning out the extra words the writer doesn't need for her art.

But you know what? It sure beats shoveling pig shit.

You know what else? I'm often as surprised as the other readers of the things that come out Subconscious. And if I can't predict what's going to happen, maybe it'll surprise and delight the readers as well.

I think.

I hope.

Aw, fuck it. Maybe I should go back to shoveling pig shit.

(Hello, everyone! This is Subconscious speaking. Trust me, you're going to love this book! Suzan fell asleep at her keyboard, so a lot of you will see this message on the blog before she finds it and erases it when she wakes up tomorrow. But A Modicum of Truth is fabulous and exciting and brilliant! I promise!

And really, Suzan's alleged twitches and itchy brain have more to do with her caffeine consumption. She should cut back. Toodles!)

Trusting Your Art

Artists of any stripe can be a insecure bunch, probably because they are often belittled.

In American culture, pursuing art is considered inconsequential. A waste of time. Criticism of this pursuit is often vocalized by artists' friends and families as helpful advice.

I mean, how often have all of us heard the following:

"Why are you wasting your time on that crap?"
"When are you going to get a real job?"
"No one can make a living writing/singing/painting/etc."

And even if we get past that bullshit, there's the people related to the type of art we wish pursue, i.e. the current professionals, the critics, the brokers, who again in the name of helping can hold us back. You know the type of well-meaning advice:

"Instead of writing Y, you should write X."
"This is crap. You need to change everything."
"If you have so-and-so doctor/edit/review your work, you'll make lots of money."

One  of the hardest parts for any artist on this crazy path is learning to trust themselves. There's going to be a lot of people who have opinions of your work.

And that's okay.

But it shouldn't matter to you either.

Why? Because if you present your work to the public, you can't stop them from having an opinion about that work. Nor can you control the life experience those other people bring along as baggage as they read/look at/listen to your work. And trust me, there's a lot of baggage those consumers drag along to the party.

For example, an editor for a publishing company (and no, I'm not naming names) stated that zombies are over.

And I laughed. Why? Because that same editor has been saying vampires are over for the last twenty years, and I still haven't seen bloodsuckers totally go away.

It doesn't matter what someone else says. If you want to write about vampires, or draw superhero comics, or create weird metal statues, then DO IT!

Trust yourself to fulfill your vision of your project. Only you can create things a certain way. A way like no other person can. And the world will be a poorer place without your vision.

Indie Drama Queens or Why I No Longer Have Many Writer Friends

I don't know about the rest of you, but for me, high school was horrible. It's one of my top three worst experiences in my life.

And the other two consist of DH's emergency surgery when we didn't know what the fuck was wrong and me nearly dying during my C-section when my blood pressure crashed for no apparent reason.

So yeah, high school was pretty fucking bad. So bad, I will never, ever go to a high school reunion. Why would I want to hang out with people who spread vicious rumors about me, threatened me, and generally treated me like shit?

Yet, I keep running into indie writers who desperately want to re-create that experience. The cliques. The bitchiness. The infighting and taking sides over some innocuous happenstance. In other words, the drama queens.

It all comes down to some variation of validation. You have X, but I don't. Or I have Y, and you don't. Where X and Y are considered certain factors that signify a "real" writing career.

I thought we got over that years ago when we decided to forego begging agents for a crumb of attention, following editors into bathroom stalls, or being ecstatic that a publisher granted us a measly 6% of the income from our books.

But no, we humans are insecure little fuckers. We devise new and better ways of trying to prove we are better than our peers. And we often succeed in making ourselves and others totally miserable.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm so fucking tired of that kind of bullshit. My path isn't yours and vice versa. Judge your success by making each book better than your last one.

Or go live out the rest of your lives in high school. That's okay because I'm going to be over here doing something entirely different and my teen self will be having a blast doing it!

Some Insights While I Play Catch-Up

I'm finally able to breath, and coughing is under control, though my ribs ache like the dickens.

While I try to catch up on my projects, I suggest new writers read an essay series by Hugh Howey, the author of Wool. And just because Hugh's thoughts are part of Amazon's Author Insights program doesn't make them any less valuable items to consider as you makes your plans. The link is to Part One, but Parts Two and Three are posted on the website.

I'll add one more thing. There is no one right way to write and publish. I've seen several third parties try to pit one professional writer against another because they give conflicting advice.

As I've said before, I've taken tips from a lot of pros over the years. Some suggestions work brilliantly for me. Some don't, but that doesn't mean those tips aren't valuable to someone else.

As for the people trying to start fights? I find it laughable that so many of them are authors who aren't as successful as the people they try to pit against each other. Maybe if they spent more time and energy on their own business, they would achieve the success they are so jealous of in others.

Just my two cents.

Risky Business

I've lost count of the number of posts I've written on writers and fear. Because of that fear, many writers refuse to take risks and they want guarantees that they'll make money if they get into this industry. Just this weekend I had yet another conversation with a relatively new writer about taking some risks with their books.

You want to know something. I think this person will be just fine in a writing career because they're willing to take those risks.

Folks, any business where you work for yourself is risky. It's your time and your capital on the line. You succeed or fail on your merits, no one else's. There's no one you can blame if you didn't do your research.

Oh, there'll be writers who try to blame someone. The current favorite target is Amazon. But a lot of the new kids haven't bothered to learn their craft. Their dialogue is stilted and unnatural. Their alpha males are total dweebs. And their heroines are Too Stupid To Live.

Even worse, they overanalyze a current bestseller, thinking if they write a book exactly like Big Name Author, then they too will be rolling in the dough.

If a reader already read BNA's book, why would they want to read the exact same book with the serial numbers filed off?

"But, but, but..." I can hear you say. "What about Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey?"

Let me ask you this is return, what else has E.L. James written? First of all, I'm not slamming Ms. James. A lot of us started our writing life with fan fiction. And that's exactly what FSoG is--fan fiction. It was basically risk free. Has James taken a risk with her own ideas? No, because doing so does not guarantee her any money.

On the other hand, J.K. Rowling's name became synonymous with her creation, Harry Potter. She took a major risk by adopting what was a secret pseudonym in order to take on a new series in a new genre. Her alter ego Robert Galbraith did pretty damn well for a debut author. Or he did until "he" was outed as Rowling.

Rowling could have continued milking Harry Potter. In fact, she's been accused of exactly that with Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, even though she only helped write the outline of the play. However, Rowling the writer has stretched her artistic muscles and delved into other characters on other genres when she could have given up and coasted.

If you want a career as a writer, ask yourself how much risk are you prepared to take on. If you aren't willing to take chances, get yourself a job and buy lottery tickets. Trust me it will be a lot easier than pounding out words for a living.

Other Writers and Fan-girly Squeals

Once upon a time, I had the privilege of meeting George Takei at a Star Trek convention. I was so nervous I literally couldn't talk. Uncle George was terribly sweet, but he gave me an odd look. As in, "Is she just shy, or should I call security?"

I managed to say "Nice to meet you" or "Thank you". Seriously, I was that nervous, I don't remember what I said. I do remember my voice sounded like Beaker's from the Muppets.

I don't always act that shell-shocked around someone I admire. Well, except for last Saturday night. My friend Jo introduced me to someone whose work I admire very much, and I squealed like a little girl. I'm pretty sure I embarrassed the hell out of the writer, too, not just myself.

*sigh*

So why am I bringing this all up?

I've had the opportunity to watch professional writers interact with their readers over the years, and I've noted four typical reactions in writers. Three of these reactions will lose you readers, but there are ways to compensate.

First of all, if you EVER feel in danger from a fan, get help! Grab a friend, get security at an event, or call the police. Trust that little niggle in your hindbrain. There's a big difference between that feeling and butterflies in your stomach.

Now on to the types...

1) The Cold Fish
It's never easy meeting total strangers. Even the most gregarious person has a little trepidation in a new situation. These writers fail to make eye contact with their readers much less say hello. This behavior can come across as being too good to talk to the hoi polloi when in fact, it's the opposite problem.

I'll tell you a secret. The best at the meet-and-greet are simply better at hiding their fear. Stand up, walk around that signing table, and be pleasant and polite. It will make the encounter easier for both of you. Something to remember is that your readers are probably more nervous about meeting you than vice versa, too.


2) The Hot Potato
The opposite of The Cold Fish, these writers not only come out from behind their tables, they attack people in the aisles and try to force their books on the public. Few people like the hard sell. (And if you know one, I'd like to meet him or her.)

Coming across as a crazy used car salesperson will only get you shunned and rejected. Take a step back, tone down the sales pitch, and take an interest in the person, not the sales prospect.


3) The Negative Nellie
These writers don't feel they deserve their success, or their fragile self-esteem can't handle criticism, so they try to beat you to the punch with self-flagellation. This behavior can turn off a potential reader. If the writer doesn't think their book is good enough, then why would the reader want to take a chance on it? And if the reader already read your work, it sounds to them like the writer is criticizing the reader's choices.

If adulation throws you for a loop, stick with simple phrases. "I hope you enjoy it." "Thank you." "I appreciate your comments."

On the other hand, those phrases work pretty damn good if a psycho reader slams you, too.


4) The Best Response
The writers I've seen handle the public best are Sherrilyn Kenyon and the late L.A. Banks. Both ladies come across genuinely interested in fans. They say how glad they are to meet you. These writers are comfortable with themselves and love the career they've chosen.

It's damn hard to achieve that level of confidence in yourself and in your work. Part of it is knowing your own comfort level with the public. For example, Sherrilyn's a touchy-feely person. She grabs a reader's hand and acts like they are her favorite cousin that she hasn't seen in forever. For her, this is a genuine response.

I know I'm not a touchy-feely person. Sherrilyn's way wouldn't work for me. Heck, even getting an e-mail from reader makes me freak out.

But my own issues don't mean I can't behave myself, be pleasant and say "Thanks!" Yep, that's right. I take elements from the solutions for The Cold Fish and The Negative Nellies. I remind myself that my writing affected a person enough for them to reach out.

And in the end, that's all I really want. To entertain someone for a little while and let them forget their problems.

The least I can do when a reader reaches out to me is to reach back with a heartfelt, "Thanks for reading my work."

Failing to Keep Up with the Joneses

We're closing in on the last quarter of the year, and I feel like I'm slipping farther and farther. The list of tasks to get done in 2016 has quite a few things crossed off as of today, but I still have over half the list left to go.

Is this a good thing or a bad thing?

My old anal self would be despairing at this point for not being three quarters of the way through the to-do list by now.

But my new self? Well, she listed everything that's come out, or is about to come out, this year to an old friend over dinner last Friday. The friend, who is not a writer but is an attorney looking to change careers, was impressed because to her, writing is tedious and time-consuming.

And I realized my old self had been doing something stupid. I'd fallen into the same trap I'd warned other writers about--comparing myself to other people. Failing to keep up with other writers didn't necessarily mean I had failed.

Already, I've written more this year than I had last year or the year before. I'd definitely published more this year than I had last year or the year before. Maybe I wasn't as caught up with my business plan as I would have liked, but I wasn't sitting on my hands either.

This last week alone, I uploaded the print version of Justice: The Beginning, reviewed my portion of the galleys for Sword and Sorceress 31, organized my blurb sheets for each published story (which was a way overdue task), edited a bit more of Zombie Goddess, and wrote a bit on four different novels.

So I'm failing forward.

And that's always a good thing.

My Subconscious 2: The Bitch Is Back

I've complained about my subconscious before. A little over five years ago in fact.

Well, the bitch is back, and she's taking things to a new level.

From 6th grade through law school, I'd have nightmares right before classes started. The most common one involved me panicking because I hadn't gone to one particular class all year, but I forgot to go to the admin/registrar's office to drop it. I'm desperately cramming for the class because if I didn't take the test, I'd fail all classes for the semester.

I graduated from law school in 1998. I haven't attended an official "school" for nearly twenty years. Yet, I've been having that Selket-damned recurring dream a lot over the last five months. By the way, a lot means nearly every night. Think I'm a little panicked about my writing career right now?

I don't know why I'm freaking out NOW! I'm getting things back on track. I've published two  Alter Ego short stories. One of them was accepted for republication by a small publisher. I submitted a "Suzan Harden" short story to another small publisher. A Question of Balance is almost ready to go to my formatter. Zombie Goddess is making headway again after the April flu-from-hell hiatus. And the lovely Deanna Sanchez, who was the narrator for the Far-Fetched Fables podcast of "Justice," and I are discussing her narrating "Diplomacy in the Dark."

Things are bouncing along smashingly as a U.K. friend would say.

*sigh* I hate my subconscious. She can be such a bitch sometimes.


P.S. The podcast featuring Ms. Sanchez reading my work is still available for download at Far-Fetched Fables. On iTunes, you'll want Far-Fetched Fables No. 38. Oops! FFF#38 is no longer available on iTunes.

Taking Risks

Yesterday, the incredible Kris Rusch talked about becoming the indispensable writer. A writer becomes indispensable when she's learning new things, improving her writing, and not doing the same story over and over again.

In other words, she can't become boring.

Generally, what makes a writing boring is fear. She's afraid to take chances for fear that her readers won't like the new thing she is creating. She's afraid to try new methods of publishing for fear that her readers won't follow her. She's afraid to write something in a different genre for fear it won't sell.

In other words, she's a afraid of failure.

I totally get that fear. I'm feeling it in spades right now.

I've commissioned new covers for the Bloodlines series. Even though Elaina delivered the first one this week and it's beautiful, I'm worried that I'm changing the image for Blood Magick too much.

I've commissioned new interior design and formatting for the series as well for both e-book and print. Logically, it made sense to hire Jaye because she's faster and does a much better job than me. It is taking me forever to learn to properly design a print book. But I'm scared of giving up control.

I've entered into a contract to co-author a new series. I love the ideas Laura and I have come up with, but I'm frightened of disappointing Laura. Frightened that the final product won't be as she envisioned it. Worried that my other works won't measure up and it's obvious that I'm riding on someone else's coattails, especially if the 888-555-HERO project is successful.

Despite that rampant fear, I need to plunge ahead. If I don't, I'll regret it. If not for the rest of my life, at least for the few decades of cognizance I have left.

And maybe that's the worst fear of all right now. What happens when people say, "Yeah, that Suzan Harden used to write some good books. I wonder whatever happened to her."

Want Some Cheese with Your Whine?

"Sales are down!"

"KU is screwing us over!"

"The sky is falling!"

Anyone else besides me hearing a ton of this kind of crap from authors lately?

It's not just trad or indie or hybrid-related. It's everyone.

Guess what? The publishing industry has been all doom and gloom for a long time. Even Charles Dickens bitched about filthy pirates illegally copying his books. Mark Twain despaired that commerce was overtaking art. The monks lamented losing their jobs because of that damn Guttenberg.

I can't tell you what you should do about it. I can tell you what you probably shouldn't.

1) Don't accuse your readers of stealing your books. Nothing turns off a potential fan like a charge of theft. Sure, there are folks pirating. Guess what? Those people aren't your fans, and don't give a flying flip about your tantrum. The innocents are the ones who will be offended by your accusations. And they WILL stop buying your books. It's okay to bitch to your friends privately, but lengthy rants on Facebook will only alienate readers.

2) The gold rush is over. If you want success in this business, you're going to have to work. That may mean stepping up production, learning how to market better, or any myriad of things that you can improve in your business. Setting back on your laurels and crying that you're only selling 500 books a month instead of 50,000 isn't going to win you sympathy points, especially from the readers. Your true fans are waiting for that next book. Get crackin'!

3) Don't depend on any one method or retailer for getting your books to readers. If something isn't working for you, change it. Albert Einstein once said that the sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. If exclusivity in Amazon isn't working for you, check out other retailers.

Keeping an ear out for industry comings and goings is smart, but don't let the kvetching interfere with your writing.

Where the Hell Did My Summer Go?

No, I didn't forget to post on Monday. I didn't have time. DH took a six-day weekend, and we tackled his office. We got a lot of stuff thrown out or packed for the move, but there's still a ton of work that needs to be done. And I have barely touched my office, much less the current wip.

Today, I made the mistake of looking at the calendar. It's already the last week of June, and my page production sucks the big one. Yeah, I'm packing. Yeah, we're moving. Yeah, it's got to be done by August 5th.

That's our target because public school starts two weeks later. That would give us enough time to get settled and GK enrolled.

Yep, the kid's heading back to public school. I have mixed feelings, but overall, I know it's the best move for him. Plus, I'll have more writing time, right?

Unfortunately, my sales are starting to reflect my lack of writer productivity. Hopefully, I can make it up this fall.

As long as my readers forgive the delay.

I'm definitely ready to strangle that stupid little voice in the back of my head.

Recharging the Imagination, Part 2

Currently re-reading - Storm Front by Jim Butcher

Back on February 1st, I did a little post on Recharging the Imagination.  Unfortunately, Monday's meltdown would not be solved by a quick Tullycraft fix.

I'm blessed to have good people in my life who can bluntly say, "Step away from the manuscript!"

So yesterday, between cleaning bathrooms and the Day Job, I watched The Craft and Speed.  Both movies have their flaws, but they're stories I love to watch over and over again.

Today started with thunderstorms.  (I swear--Houston cannot just have rain.  This city manages to turn any weather into an event.)  Since it's my day off from the Day Job, I'm going to curl up on the couch with a cup of green tea and finish Storm Front.  (Insert 'Baaaaa!' here for the sheep joke.)  Then tonight, I'm going to be totally lazy and order pizza.

I won't look at the current wip until Friday when I have my rare three-day weekend.  Think that will give the gray matter enough rest?

What do y'all do to recharge?

Bitch Stabbed Me in the Back!

Who is the bitch, you might ask?

My own fucking subconscious, that's who.

I sing her praises, tell others how often she gotten me out of plot scrapes, rely on her to flesh out my characters, and what does she do?

She throws all my insecurities in my face.

The other night I dreamed I'm in a store, perusing the magazine rack.  I'm thumbing through a dream version of Entertainment Weekly when I stumble across an article about two people I know.  There's matching full-page spreads about the movies coming out based on books written by these two.  The article goes on to describe their rise to the NYT list, and how their next book contracts are estimated to be the seven figure range.

[Now, I know these two people in real life.  They've both worked their asses off to get where they are and are very successful authors, but in reality, it's nowhere near the level described in my dream magazine.]

As I'm reading the article, Bruce Campbell, in his Coach Boomer persona, leaps into the room.  He aims the blade of his hand at me and yells, "Sidekick!"

Thanks, Subconscious.  Thanks a lot.

[If you don't get the movie reference, download, rent or buy Sky High.  A little formulaic, but funny as hell.]