I’ve been away for awhile.
During my respite from blogging, I’ve actually been living out my author dream pretty well. Just like the words of wisdom that I read from some other blogger sometime quite long ago, many authors start to hit their stride somewhere around the fourth or fifth book. I’ve found mine and it’s a beautiful feeling. For some reason, it’s the sweet spot and if you’re doing things right, by that point you should be pleased with your sales figures. If you’re not, it’s time to re-evaluate what it is you’re writing and how you’re promoting yourself.
I’ve always been a genre bender. I’ve always had difficulty categorizing what exactly the hell it is that I write. It’s easier to list off what I don’t: paranormal, historical, fantasy, sci-fi. For The Intoxicated Books, I settled on classifying them as contemporary romance.
But I’ve always known they were different. They don’t fall into the typical romance book mold, even though there’s plenty of falling in and out of love. But there’s humor and heartache and family drama too. And there are definitely some romance buzzwords that don’t show up in my writing, though I certainly am not afraid of the F-bomb. As such, readers looking for a cookie cutter alpha male story with hot, hot sex aren’t going to be impressed. That’s perfectly fine.
That’s part of the reason that I decided to market Book 5 in the series in a completely different way, if at all. It’s something that has been brewing in the back of my head since the debacle that was the release of Book 4. The moment that I realized without question that I didn’t fit in where I had placed myself. The moment that I realized that I didn’t want to play the competition game. The moment that I decided it wasn’t fair to myself to pay someone else for a marketing campaign that left me in tears and wanting to cancel the entire damn thing. Though Book 4 is quite arguably my favorite in the series (but I say that about all of them when I write them), for a few weeks I absolutely hated it and regretted ever writing anything.
Marketing your books shouldn’t make you feel like total hell.
So I stopped, and then the magic happened.
Of course, there is always room for improvement, and no one ever sells as many copies as they ultimately dream of. But my expectations are reasonable, and I’ve always been very clear that I do this on an extremely part time basis. I don’t spam book links to various social media accounts, nor do I even post everywhere frequently. Yet most days, I get paid sales on at least one platform. Sometimes I get more paid sales than free downloads. And I realize that by accomplishing this, I’m doing better than a large percentage of self-publishers. I’m not greedy; I’m humbled that I have found repeat readers. Readers who get hooked on the first book, who maybe did pick it up as a perma-free, and who dutifully come back and purchase the remaining books in the series. I’ve even gotten preorders for Book 5, which doesn’t come out until February, simply by having it available at most retailers already.
And you know me. I am always thinking ahead. Book 5 is over halfway done on the laptop, but complete in my head and I’ve moved on from those characters. They write themselves for me, after having been with them for the better part of twenty years.
I was sitting on ideas for about 7 standalone books, along with a very basic concept for another series. They range in flavor from chick lit to steamy romance, but never to the point of erotica. I might read it, but I don’t see myself writing it. And considering that I will have to start writing one of them to put a teaser chapter at the end of Book 5 before it goes live, I knew I needed to make a decision on which figment of my imagination was going to come next. I had almost decided on one of them; the one most fully formed with a title, tagline, entire plot and a cover vision.
Then Tuesday happened and another brand new idea took precedence. In the span of twenty-four hours, I had all of the above plus character names and a half-assed blurb jangling around in my brain. I was writing scenes and dialogue, envisioning the beginning of the book in my screenplay-esque way. And I knew without a doubt that it would be the next book going up for sale.
Guess what? It’s not a romance. Sure, there will be romantic elements. But this will be dark and depressing, a haunting novel that will hopefully stick with readers much the same as it’s consumed my thoughts lately. It’s the story that I feel I need to tell next, genre be damned.
Call it women’s fiction, or literary fiction, or whatever you’d like. And take the plunge with me if you want to. For I don’t write for sales, I write for myself. And maybe I’ve found that being a little off and unpopular is exactly where I want to be.
If you’re really observant, you’ll catch the title here, hiding somewhere on this blog. But that’s all I’m ready to say at this point.