The long road to publication

I’ve spent the last two days proofing two formatted electronic versions of Saving Irene, all with an eye to getting it posted asap on Amazon and various other web sites for advance orders. It will officially launch September 16, and I’ve been trying to do as much advance publicity as I know how—not a chore I excel at. In fact, Jamie, my salesman extraordinaire son, gave me lectures on salesmanship when he was here and recommended I get on Instagram. I’ve always avoided it because I thought it was all pictures, and I didn’t have that many. But a look at my various picture files convinces me maybe I’ve been underestimating myself.

But Instagram remains a mystery to me. I started a new account—Instagram had forgotten the username and password Jacob set up for me long ago—and got it installed on my computer. But then a tutorial (yes, Jamie sent it to me) is focused on using Instagram on your cell phone. I’m not that good at cell phone navigation, so I’m waiting for Jacob to give me lessons.

Meantime what I found with my new account is a list of people—none of whom I know—that I can invite to follow me. That doesn’t seem efficient or profitable to me, and I have no idea where to go next.

Yes, I am an old lady trying to figure out millennial technology, and it ain’t going well.

Back to proofreading. Before I sent the manuscript to my graphic designer for formatting, I read it so carefully. And yet I found all kinds of errors—Howard was called Harold at one point; in another instance I talked about a great cap when I meant a great gap. It’s really true—the eye sees what the mind wants it too. I have now read the entire thing, carefully, twice in the last two days, and I feel that I could recite it from memory.

The road to publication is indeed long. And I even shortened it a bit with this mystery, because a year or more ago I wrote 19,000 words before abandoning it for historical projects. So when I turned my attention back to it, in mid-April, I had a head start. I wrote steadily, at least a thousand words a day, until I had a final manuscript of about 65,000 words. More importantly, I wrote steadily until the story worked itself out—who did what and how the characters would react.

Next, I sent it to an editor, who made extensive comments, sent it to me, and I dealt with the comments. Then it went back to the editor for a final review. Meantime, I was looking for guest posts on blogs and make extensive notes about marketing, soliciting blurbs, and generally going about letting the world know that I have written a brilliant cozy mystery.

The graphic artist was the next step, and she required two weeks or more to work on it between more urgent projects, while I sat biting my nails. Now I think we’re moving toward the final step, and it will soon be available.

Will this book make me rich and famous? Almost definitely not. After more than a hundred books, from young-adult titles to historical fiction to mysteries and a scattering of nonfiction, I know better than to expect such a miracle. But that’s not why I write. I write because I cannot not write, because I enjoy the process (though sometimes I want to tear my hair out), and because I love the satisfaction of having written—yes, I’m like Mark Twain in that respect.

I accept that I am a third-tier author in the mystery field (I had much more credibility in the field of western American lit, and I’m not abandoning that). And it’s okay. Writing is a wonderful way to spend my retirement. It keeps me busy, actively engaged, and, I hope, young in spirit.

I hope, of course, you’ll read Saving Irene and then let me know what you think  about it. A review on Amazon, however brief, is always appreciated. But you know what, if only ten people read it, that’s okay too.

And if you have hints about Instagram, I’m open to anything.

Who, me? Waste time on Facebook? You bet!

Since my writing projects are on hold, I decided to tackle Pinterest tonight. When I first discovered it. I spent too many hours scrolling through. I created duplicate boards. I mean, really, what’s the difference between Judy’s Bookshelf and My Bookshelf? Both became a mixture of my own books, other books I liked, and clever quotes about the world of books. But mostly I found recipes—oh, I pinned and copied like a mad fool. And then one day I decided this wasn’t at all an avenue for marketing my books, and I dropped it.

But I read about authors who created boards for each book, using Pinterest almost as a way of keeping notes. I envied their ambition and went on my way. There’s only so much one can do with social media, I told myself, a sentiment echoed by other authors on various lists.

Facebook? When others scorn it and rant because they keep changing the rules, I am an unabashed fan. Sure I use it to tell people when I have a new book, but it is so much more—I post my blogs on it, I comment on other people’s posts, I make observations of my own, sometimes political. My morning ritual consists of reading emails, followed by the newspaper on the days I take it, and then by Facebook. I can easily spend an hour on Facebook and then wonder where the morning went. But Facebook is often the place I learn about breaking news; it’s where I read a lot about politics and politicians—although some of my family will howl, I’m pretty judicious about what columnists, etc. I follow. And friends—I’ve made so many new friends, kept in better touch with acquaintances, reignited old friendships. If I’m going to spend time on social media, Facebook is it.

Twitter not so much, although once in a fit of creativity, I fixed it so my Facebook posts go to Twitter—I have a son-in-law who does it the opposite, so that his FB posts are usually incomprehensible to me. But other than occasionally retweeting, I don’t do it. Linked In is, to me, for people who want to advance their careers in the professional world, and I don’t know about Google+ though I always follow back. Same with Goodreads. Instagram? What’s that?

Now I read that Pinterest is second only to Facebook in terms of traffic generation and way ahead of Twitter or Google+. So that’s why my concentration on Pinterest tonight. I did post a couple of new book covers but the main thing I got was a recipe for smoked salmon dip with bacon and jalapeno. I posted it to Potluck with Judy.

I don’t think I’ll ever master social media, but who really does?