I consider myself extremely fortunate. I’ve just released a self-published collection of 30 short mysteries entitled IT’S A CRIME! I’ve written a mystery series of eight books featuring the iconoclastic sleuth, Daniel Jacobus; two stand-alone mysteries, ROUNDTREE DAYS and THE BEETHOVEN SEQUENCE; a musical memoir called SYMPHONIES & SCORPIONS; a children’s book, MAESTRO, THE POTBELLIED PIG; and many more published short stories and essays. And all that in 14 years. I’m probably leaving some things out. Oh, yes. I have another collection of short stories featuring a very empathetic protagonist, a retired NYPD Police Chief named Maury Gross. The name of the collection is MURDER ON VACATION, and I’m in search of a publisher. Let me know if you’d like to be it. They’re terrific stories, if I do say so myself.
So, what’s troubling me? I’ll tell you. It’s that with all these books, I now spend more time trying to promote (i.e. sell) them than I do writing. Email blasts, Facebook posts, Instagram photos, Amazon promotions, attending Zoom meetings of author organizations, doing events at bookstores, meeting with book clubs – that’s what I do.
But when I speak to other authors, I realize I’ve just scratched the surface. There’s so much more that can be done. In just the past few days, one author told me how she is able to get customers to buy books directly from her website. Another author told me “how easy it is” to create audiobooks on Audible without having to pay any upfront money. But, isn’t it true that there are still only 24 hours in the day?
In the old days, or so I’m told, the publisher was the driving force in the marketing of its books, but these ain’t the old days. These days, authors need to be social media experts to make a living. Try as I might, I haven’t developed the knack, perhaps because I really don’t like it. Thank God, I don’t have to rely on book sales to get by, because royalties and 50¢ (okay, $3.00) will get you a cup of coffee.
Maybe it’s that I still have one foot in the 20th century. Maybe it’s that I’m 70. Or maybe it’s that I’ve just run out of good ideas, because it’s getting harder and harder to start – let alone finish – anything new. On the other hand, I know from speaking with authors who write better than I do how hard and frustrating it is for them to even get through the door to get one book published. Every once in a while, I’ll read one of my earlier books, come across a line I had forgotten I had written, and think, “Hey, that’s pretty good.” So, I can’t complain…but I guess I just did.
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