It’s been three days since the launch event for Widow Woman, and I’m still walking on air! It exceeded my expectations on so many levels, and I’m tremendously grateful to the wonderful folks who turned out to celebrate with me the release of my debut novel.
Here are a few pictures; watch for more to come!
Back in my starving college student days, I worked several jobs to try to stay afloat, one of which was to sell cutlery. Wait, let me correct that: I attempted to sell cutlery. I wasn’t very good at it. It wasn’t that the knives weren’t great—they were! I just wasn’t a very good salesman.
I was blessed to have some kind and compassionate family members and friends who tolerated my sales presentations—remember how cool it was seeing me cut a penny in half with those kitchen shears? *crickets chirping*
Okay, maybe I was the only one who thought that was cool.
Anyway, times have changed. I no longer sell knives, which is a good thing; now I’m selling books. My book, Widow Woman, to be specific.
Like most writers, I’m uncomfortable with the selling part of things. Just for the next few days, until the launch is over, I wish I weren’t so uncomfortable with it. I watch other authors out there with their constant barrages of emails, tweets, giveaways, FB posts—and I’m doing those things, too—but it just feels…icky.
I know, necessary evil and all. Maybe that’s the problem: is there a component of evil to sales that I just don’t possess? Do I need to be a little less scrupulous and just SELL, SELL, SELL!!!
If I were a ninja, it’d be so much easier.
First, I’d get to wear a mask, which is always cool.
Second, I could strike with my marketing weapons (geez, I wish I had some!) in the dead of night, silent and stealthy—you’d never even know you’d been pitched!
You, unsuspecting reader, would simply wake up in the morning with an unaccountable and burning desire to purchase Widow Woman from Amazon. You’d open up your Twitter account and follow me, then retweet my last 10 tweets, even the ones about my dog, to every one of your followers. You’d like the Widow Woman Facebook page, even if you’re not one of those creepy men I had to delete last week who were looking for vulnerable female companionship. You’d visit www.authorgraph.com to request my digital autograph so many times I’d have to block you as a stalker. You’d copy the QR code from my sell sheet,” accidentally” save it as “Kids’ 2012 Xmas Pictures,” and send it to everyone in your contacts list. You’d work the words “Julia Tagliere,” “Widow Woman,” and “Widow Woman book trailer” into your blog post and have no idea how they got there, especially since this week, your post was about the proper method for brining a turkey. Deteriorating rapidly, you’d follow me on Pinterest, then post amusing images of yourself reading Widow Woman in bizarre locations all over the world. Down to the last bat in your belfry, you’d download the FREE Kindle app to your phone, your PC, your Mac, your iPad, and your iPod simultaneously, go crazy trying to sync your read-to page on all your devices, and have to be transported in a straitjacket to a residential facility for internet addiction!
Whew!
Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a ninja.
Happy Launch Day tomorrow, and Happy I Love to Write Day, too!
Surely it hasn’t been that many, has it?
Queries, that is. Well, it can certainly feel that way. But once again, I am embarking on that same old journey to publication, but this time, I’m riding a brand-new wagon!
C. and I finished our edits, and I think the manuscript is worlds better than it was when we started, so I am much more optimistic about finding an agent or a publisher this time around, more so than I have been since I wrote my very first query letter.
Now the real work begins. (I bet you thought the hard part was writing the novel, didn’t you?)
Submission-tracking spreadsheet? Check.
2012 Writer’s Market? Check.
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Book Proposals & Query Letters? Um. No. I skipped that one. I already feel enough like an idiot without broadcasting it to the world by buying a book titled to confirm it. Uncheck.
Here we go. For those of you unfamiliar with the process, let’s review the steps:
1.) Research the market.
2.) Research the specific agent/publisher to whom you wish to submit.
3.) Craft the best damned query letter you can (after, of course, having written the best damned book you can write)–if you don’t know what that looks like, see The Complete Idiot‘s reference book mentioned above.
4.) Research the agent/publisher’s guidelines and follow them to the letter.
5.) Wait.
6.) Wait.
7.) Wait.
8.) Wait.
9.) Wait.
10.) Repeat steps 1-9 as needed with new agents/publishers until a.) published; b.) definitively rejected; c.) death.
Nah, I’m just yanking your chain. It’s not that bad–it can just feel that way sometimes. Let’s face it, it’s a competitive endeavor, and some agents receive hundreds of queries–perhaps thousands–every month. This is not an endeavor for the faint of heart.
But wait–this is the new optimistic me, so let me turn over a new leaf: I’ll say step 10 this time around will be “open celebratory bottle of champagne when offer is made by agent of choice.”
After all, tomorrow is another day, right? Stay tuned.
It’s late February again, which can only mean one thing: I am, once again, awaiting word on my application to grad school. The customary pall of dread I carry around with me this time of year seems a little lighter this time around, for some reason; perhaps it’s just that I’ve gotten so practiced at being rejected that I’ve come to expect it.
Friends and family alike have gamely offered their comfort and support, particularly along the lines of the whole “The third time’s the charm” approach, but I have never attached much credence to the “Three is a magic number” philosophy; the only magic involving the number three for me has been that that is the number of children I have–a case in which the number three has resulted in approximately equal parts magic and chaos, in my opinion.
I think my yearly admissions-angst is also tempered this year by a small amount of annoyance: the program web site does, in fact, state that applicants should receive word by “late February.” Waiting until the 28th, in my opinion at least, takes that statement a bit too literally.
On the other hand, the very real possibility that only those who are being rejected are being made to wait until the very last day of the month for notification has not escaped my attention. After all, the university will only have to send out 12 acceptance letters, but if past years are any indication, they’ll have upwards of 400 rejections to send out–in their position, I’d probably be dragging my feet, too.
So what is next for me? Well, once the formal notification arrives, I’ll have to make a decision about the whole self-publication thing. (Is it too obvious what I believe my notification letter will contain?) Those in favor of self-publication argue that there is no shame in it, citing the names of many famous authors who went that route (Thoreau, Whitman, Twain); purists in the other camp remain unconvinced. Somewhere in the middle is me, and a “mentoring press” that has agreed to publish my novel.
This press does not accept every manuscript they receive (only 1 of 9 are accepted), which makes me feel a little better about it. And I do believe in my book, and that it’s worth publishing and worth reading. But there is still a squeamish little purist worming little holes of doubt into the darker recesses of my mind, whispering that maybe I just haven’t found the right agent yet, or that this submission will be The One.
It’s sort of my thinking that if the university says no, then perhaps it’s time to say yes to the press–but I haven’t reached that point yet.
On the other hand, it is already “late February”, so a decision will be coming soon.
What do you all think about self-publishing? I’d love to know…