my successful attempt

A few weeks ago I put up a post describing ways I've tried to promote my novelette "The ElectroLive Murders," figuring that other authors self-publishing on Kindle might be interested--even though none of the methods I'd used had been very successful. Last Friday, I finally found a strategy that seems to have resulted in at least some success, and I figured I'd mention it here. The strategy is, basically: give it away for free.

Most Kindle authors probably already know that Amazon has a Kindle Select option. What it means for Kindle owners is that they can pay a special annual fee to gain Amazon Prime status, which allows them to "borrow" certain books on their Kindle, and watch certain movies, and listen to certain music, without additional charges. What it means for authors publishing on Kindle is you promise to make your book available only on the Kindle for at least 90 days, and in return your book is made available for borrowing by those customers enrolled in Amazon Prime. If someone borrows your book, you get a portion of a monthly fund set aside for books signed up for Kindle Select. For the past several months, the money a "borrow" earns has been higher than what many authors actually earn for a sale.

That's all well and good, but the reason I'm mentioning Kindle Select now is because of the other benefit an author gets for signing their title up--they gain the option to make the book available for free for up to five days during each 90 day period. After putting a second novelette up on Kindle--my horror story "Cool Blue"--I decided to make "The ElectroLive Murders" free for a day, in hopes that people would download it and then, if they liked it, go on to buy "Cool Blue" as well. Originally, my plan was to make it free on Saturday, April 21, but at the last minute I decided to make it available for Friday, April 20 also. I did this because I wanted to compare the number of downloads on Friday and Saturday, to see which day had more people looking for free books.

In the end, I didn't actually check up on how the free days were going until after they'd both passed--I generally try to avoid computers and the internet on weekends--so I'm not sure what the counts were for each day. I do know, however, that in 48 hours 350 copies of "The ElectroLive Murders" were downloaded; and that at its best the book reached #4 of the top 100 free High Tech Science Fiction books, and #10 of the top 100 free Hardboiled Detective Mysteries (for the Friday and Saturday time period). And since then, four copies have sold, and one new review of the book has been put up.

Obviously, none of these numbers are especially impressive when compared to what lots of other people are selling, but for me this has been the single most successful promotion attempt I've made so far. I'm guessing that many of the free copies won't ever actually be read, but I'm hoping that eventually at least some of the people who picked up a copy will read it, and I think that a lot of them will like it when they do. And maybe, just maybe, they'll look up my name and consider buying other titles I've written, if they like the first thing they've read.

I put "The ElectroLive Murders" up on Kindle over a year ago now, and even though I haven't sold enough copies to earn any sort of payment for it yet, I'm still confident that it's a fun story, and that all I really need to do is get the word out to people, and they'll buy it. Finally, after a series of failed attempts to get the word out, I've found something that actually does produce some sort of positive result. And even if this free promotion doesn't result in any significant sales, just getting the book out there to more people--and having a larger audience for my work--feels like success to me. In the end, I'm writing because I love to write--getting paid would be a bonus.

COOL BLUE is live

My horror novelette COOL BLUE is now available for download on Kindle. I'm not sure what specific type of horror it would be. Creature Feature? Infection Story? Bad Bromance? Here's the teaser:

Jeff Jones is new to San Francisco, and he's eager to explore the city. After two weeks of sun-shrouding fog, the weather finally takes a turn for the better, and Jeff decides to go on a walk. He stumbles across the "Mystery Ocean" fish store, and what he finds inside changes him, in a horrible way.

Manny Ramirez is Jeff's roommate, and he counts his blessings every day. He's part of an awesome community of young Christians, he's recently met a wonderful girl, and after two weeks of heavy fog, the sun is shining brightly on his city. The only problem he's got is his roommate Jeff, who's starting to act very strange.

San Francisco is famous for its fog. Unfortunately for Jeff and Manny, a heat wave starts today.

The cover features photos put up by people on Deviant Art several years ago. I've tried to contact them through email and through the Deviant Art webpage, and I haven't had any success so far. If, by some rare miracle, you are one of the two photographers whose pictures are featured on the cover (and credited on the first page within), please contact me. I want to give you part of the gazillions of dollars this Kindle book is sure to earn!

Also, now that I've got a second novelette up on Kindle, I'm planning on making the first one (The ElectroLive Murders) available for free download this Saturday, April 21st. Do a Kindle search for "electrolive murders" that day, and get yourself a free e-copy!

writing in an airport

I've heard a lot of opinions about 'where to write.' Some people do their writing in a closed room, monk-like, hoping to minimize distraction. Some people seek out quiet public places, like cafes and libraries, where they can be amongst others but not distracted by them. And some people--though this group seems to be fairly small--say they can write anywhere, no matter the crowds, no matter the commotion.

Generally my preferences put me in amongst the second group. I like to be able to sink into what I'm doing without distractions, but I also like to be with other people doing the same thing. Having other people around me who seemed engaged in their work helps me feel engaged with my own. But it can be difficult to find a place that offers that feeling. Libraries don't let you eat or drink, which limits how long you can stay in them, and cafes get noisy. For the thousands of hours that I've spent writing, nearly all of those hours saw my attention divided between the writing itself and the distractions of the place.

With the project I've been working on recently--a horror novelette called COOL BLUE--distraction hasn't been an issue. I've found myself so drawn into the story that I become deaf and dumb to the outside world while I'm writing. Nowhere else has this proven more remarkable to me than in the SFO airport last Thursday. My flight was delayed by more than two hours, so I sat down amidst all the other pissed off passengers, pulled out my laptop, and dropped into the story. It almost felt like opening a portal to another world.

I finished the first draft of COOL BLUE just today, cranking through the coda at work--another place full of distraction, what with the phone ringing every few minutes, and clients constantly walking in the door. I suppose that means something too--me being so caught up in the story that I'll keep working on it even when my attention is diverted every 30 seconds. And now that the first draft is done, I've passed it on to some of preferred first readers. Here's hoping they find the story as engaging as I do.

Getting Lost

One of the things I most love about writing--really, it's the one thing that makes me keep sitting down and banging out words--is the way that writing can take you out of the wider world, and bring you somewhere else entirely. When the writing is really going well, when you're caught up in the world of your imagination, the Real World sort of drops away. It's like a veil get's put up around you, and everything outside of your own mind fades, becomes indistinct. During those moments when you're fully immersed in what you're writing, it's like you're living in two worlds at once.

I spent a lot of time there yesterday, in that in-between space. I took a break from the fantasy novel to work on a horror novelette I'd started years ago--it's actually one of the projects I'd begun around the same time I wrote The ElectroLive Murders--and I got so wrapped up in it that I didn't break free for six hours. And then, later that night, I sat back down and got sucked in again.

I'm hoping to have the horror novelette--which I'm calling "Cool Blue"--finished and up on Kindle in the next few weeks. But because I had such a good time there in the "otherworld" yesterday, I thought I'd post a piece of what I brought back:

Jeff walked to the curtain, pushed the beads aside with the back of his hand. It was darker behind the beads, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. Little by little, details came to him.

The room was long and narrow, like a hallway. Aquariums lined the walls, in three tiers on either side. Nearly every aquarium was lit up, and the dim glow coming from them provided the room’s only illumination. It was a dreamlike light, shimmering and blue, filtered through water. The air in the room felt moist, cool, and heavy with the sound of liquid—dripping, splashing, rushing—all deadened by the hum of a hundred pumps.

A mop and bucket sat on the floor, the head of the mop in a dirty puddle, the handle prone, pointing toward Jeff. It looked like someone had dropped it and left the room.

“Hello?” Jeff called out again. He stepped in, letting the beads fall into place behind him.

Something flashed at his head, and he spun toward it and threw his arms up to shield his face. It was a fish in a top-level tank, darting at the glass. “Shit,” Jeff said. “You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” The fish, thick-lipped with a fat lump above its eyes, backed off and then charged again.

He walked past its tank, looked in another tank teeming with a school of silvery fry. They massed together, the shape of the school shifting and changing, individual fish occasionally dipping onto their sides to reflect the light. It looked like a single living thing, broken into a swarm.

Farther down Jeff came to one of the darkened tanks. He put his face up near the glass, peered inside. Hidden amongst a pile of rocks, something glimmered. Jeff rapped his knuckles against the tank’s front. The glimmer turned to a dim red glow. Beneath the glow were dozens of dagger-like teeth.

“This place is a trip,” Jeff said to himself, and proceeded down the row.

When he got to the bucket and the fallen mop, he stopped. Why would somebody just drop the mop and leave it? Wouldn’t they worry someone might slip on the puddle and sue? There hadn’t been anyone to guard the register, up near the door, either. Where had everybody gone?

“Hello” Jeff said aloud. “Is anybody here?”

He wasn’t surprised when nobody responded. All the same, a funny feeling had begun to creep along the back of his neck, and to stretch on spider legs out toward his ears.

Jeff looked around the dim room again, back toward the way he’d come in. The beaded curtain was still swaying lazily, and the sunlight glimmered beyond it. On the other side of the room were two doors, one at the end of either row of tanks. The door on the right wall stood ajar, a black ribbon of darkness all that could be seen of the room within. The door on the left was closed.

Jeff turned to the beaded curtain, watched the strands sway. Then he turned and walked toward the door on the right, put his hand on the cold knob, and pulled it open.

It was a closet-sized bathroom, with a toilet, a sink, and a single naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. Jeff’s hand crawled along the wall, searching for the switch. He found it, flipped it, and flooded the little room with glaring light.

The floor and the walls were covered in white tile that magnified the bulb’s harshness. The grout between the tiles had gone dingy gray. An old mirror stood above the sink, black eating away its edges. And in the sink, and the toilet too, was a greasy red mess that stank of brine and blood.