8 chapters down, 22 to go.
Spoiler alert: Word #24,305 is “lilacs.”
award-winning author of While Galileo Preys
8 chapters down, 22 to go.
Spoiler alert: Word #24,305 is “lilacs.”
This morning, I arrived at the conference at 10am. Mom took the day off, preferring instead to stroll around Rockefeller Center. I first stopped by the Harlequin booth to say hi…and ended up signing about 100 books.
After this, it was off to the Horror Writers booth, where I hung out with Vince Liguano and Nancy Holder and signed another 50-or-so books. It was here (naturally, I suppose) that I encountered my one actual oddball, a woman who insisted that the Statue of Liberty was not only black but a gift to the United States to reward us for “winning the Civil War.” Unfortunately, we also lost the Civil War, but why quibble?
So I met Margaret Atwood. How was your day?
To be honest, the highlight of the day, really, was having my mother with me, walking the endless floor of the Javits Center. She browsed books, picked up some nice galleys, and during my two signings, she was allowed to sit.
Speaking of my signings, holy crap. I signed 150 books at the Harlequin booth, one right after the other, and then, shortly thereafter, signed another 50 at the Mystery Writers of America booth…and tomorrow plan on signing a bunch at the Horror Writers Association booth. Please note: these are not complaints. These are just the observations of a writer excited to have new readers.
Hello from New York City, where the day could not have been more beautiful…once we arrived.
Yes, oh yes, there were delays. There were delays in boarding the aircraft – which I’ve dealt with before and which are reasonable – but then there was the infamous stuck-on-an-airplane-on-the-runway-for-an-hour delay. Now, this would have been OK too, more or less, had the flight crew not forbidden our use of electronic devices while we waited.
So I’m almost 9,000 words into writing a new novel.
No, really, I am.
The working title for this sucker is Executive Order. It’s about a _______ who becomes a ________ after he __________. Neat, eh?
Yeah, I’m excited.
So I am one week into my ebook experiment for Nuclear Winter Wonderland.
I’ve created a Facebook ad (monetized at around $100/week). I’ve posted aggressively on Kindleboards and Twitter and Facebook to promote the contest. I hate-hate-hate marketing but I’ve done it because I want people to find my novel and read it.
Results so far: six ebooks sold.
Is that good? I’ve no idea. It’s probably way too early to know. Don’t get me wrong – I’d be thrilled if the numbers are higher. But these things take time…right?
Here are the rules. They are simple.
1. Purchase my critically-acclaimed novel Nuclear Winter Wonderland as a 99 cent ebook from Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
2. Forward your receipt of purchase to [email protected]
3. That’s it. You are entered to win a $50 gift certificate to that retailer.
I will select one winner at random for that month on the last day of that month.
Will it be you?
There’s only one way to find out.
And now the Convention Fatigue sets in. It always does around Day 4. The mornings become more difficult to survive with open eyes, the afternoons become filled with the desire for alone-time, and the evenings, that final hurrah, that final party, always has a current of auld lang syne to it which ends the event on a note more bittersweet than joyous.
So:
Since I didn’t have any panels today – and since I did have a meeting scheduled today in Beverly Hills with my agents – I decided to take most of the day off from RT and explore downtown. My explorations quickly ended, though, when I found, only a few blocks from the hotel, the central branch of the Los Angeles Public Library.
Today I sat on my second panel of the convention. The topic was Conflict and who better to moderate than the masterful Allison Brennan. Alongside me on the panel were Andrew Peterson, April Smith, and Brett Battles. The panel went quite well, but sometimes at these things – sometimes – I feel like a little kid who’s pretending to be an adult and is going to be found out at any minute.
From what I’ve heard, this is a common psychosis among writers.
Before my panel, though, I attended two tremendous – and tremendously different – panels in the morning: one on sex and one on the FBI.