I’ve made friends with a couple of authors over the years. Some because they write Rock Fiction. Others because they are neat people. And still others because they are clients.

Sometimes, they fit into all three categories. I’m lucky like this.

One of them asked me to join NetGalley so I could read her upcoming release. The review will go up at The Rock of Pages once it’s written. (And oh! The Rock Fiction I’ve found there already! Whee!)

In maybe the second scene, I caught a mistake: one character goes from being barefoot to wearing something on their feet. In the same scene. And no, they didn’t slip into a pair of shoes.

So because I want good things for my friend, I dropped an e-mail to the publicist and the author. “Hey, guys. Can we fix this before the final version is released?”

I’m hoping the answer will be, “Someone else called it to our attention. Glad you did the same, and thanks.”

This is why you want a good editor working on YOUR books. I am always working, always looking out for my clients. My friends. All of the above.

Get on my calendar now. I’ve got openings, oddly enough. Take advantage before they’re gone.

My friend Kevin Doyle, author of the awesome One Helluva Gig, got wind of the bru-ha-ha over at The Rock of Pages. Between that fun experience and some others he’s had recently, he was inspired.

And, as I like to do for my friends when they are inspired, I allowed him space here at West of Mars, to share his inspiration. Love his thoughts, hate ’em, disagree or agree, it’s all good so long as it’s civil.

Like a lot of writers, especially those of us of the indie variety, I spend a fair amount of time scouring various web sites and blogs, seeking out people willing to review my work. Although one of my publishers is excellent when it comes to providing lists of sites and reviewers, it’s still a tedious, frustrating process. In general, of every ten sites I land on, usually nine are either not currently accepting requests or accept e-books, which is the main medium I work in to date.

Of those who do seem likely, I’d say on average I get a response from one out of every five I contact.

Still, one perseveres.

But something that I’ve noticed more and more in the last few months is reviewers not accepting self published works. This doesn’t directly affect me, as my works aren’t self-pubbed, but I do come across some who also don’t accept works from micro or small presses, which category my works definitely fall into. And how do I respond when I come across such a restriction?

I move on to the next blog on the list.

Recently, I saw a posting on Facebook where an indie writer took reviewers to task for not accepting self pubs. This person made it rather personal, demanding to know where the reviewers/bloggers get off setting requirements for who they will and won’t review. He made allusions to a few big names who were originally self published and stated that reviewers who don’t do self pubs were working to keep him as a slave (actual word used), consigning him to having to work for a living at a job he hates instead of just writing, as he deserves to be able to do.

Come again?

First, full disclosure and a disclaimer. In three years, my first book has sold less than ten copies. My second, in a year and a half, has sold less than twenty. My third, which came out earlier this year, is doing better but has still sold less than twenty. So I’m not somebody who’s got it made looking down on the little guy. Also, some of the comments ahead may irritate some. So here we go:

The posting I mentioned above really incensed me. I’ve been writing fiction, mainly short stories and only recently books, for decades. My first short story, “The Prime Ingredient” appeared in 1988 in Starsong, a small for-the-love publication from South Carolina, and my first book, One Helluva Gig, came out in 2012. Do the math, and you’ll see it took me a while to get even this far.

Over the course of this time, I’ve had a few encounters with creative writing students and teachers, corresponded with fellow indie authors, and of course participated in group discussions over different social media, primarily FB. What I’m about to say is directed towards some people in the field, but definitely not all. I’m guessing that the same could be said of folks in the art, music or acting fields.

In short:
Nobody owes you anything. You may have the greatest talent every, some talent, or no talent at all. Whichever, you are not entitled to any attention or recognition. If you get some, fine. If you manage to have great success, more power to you. But just because you decided to take on an activity does not require that people cater to you.

If I have a blog or website where I review books, or anything else, it’s my site. I’m the one putting it up; I’m the one putting my name, time and effort into it. And guess what? I’m the one who gets to decide who or what I do or don’t review.

It’s called freedom, folks. Someone who owns a store gets to decide what merchandise they do or don’t sell. A homeowner gets to decorate their house how they want. And a person who decides to spend a large chunk of their time, unpaid in almost all cases, reviewing books, gets to decide what they do and don’t review.

Specifying what type of books they review is no different than specifying what genre they will review, or whether they review e-books.

My guess would be, and here’s where I’m going to tick people off, that several of these reviewers have suffered through self published books of exceedingly low quality. They may think, rightly or wrongly, that the quality isn’t the same as traditional publication, and they don’t want to waste their time with it.

Notice, though, that I said rightly or wrongly. Whether they’re correct is irrelevant. It’s their blog/ site, and they get to choose what they do and don’t do.

My experience, completely anecdotal, is that those who protest most vociferously about their “entitlement” to recognition and praise are the ones least deserving of it. Just because five of your family members tell you that your work is the greatest thing they’ve ever read doesn’t make it so. This is somewhat related to experiences I sometimes have in my teaching. Numerous times I’ve conferenced with parents confused as to why their child received a poor grade on a paper. Often, their response is along the lines of “But I read it over and thought it was great. So who are you to say it wasn’t?”

Uhmm – I’m the teacher.

And at some point in the next week when I check out a new web site offering reviews, and I see that they don’t accept e-books for review, or only want family friendly material, or only accept work from a certain type of publisher, guess what my reaction will be?

Well, okay. It’s their blog, and they’re the ones who get to set the rules.

On to the next one.

Again, thanks to Kevin for his thoughts. Hopefully you can see why I love the guy. And if you run into those badly edited self-published books… you know where to send the authors. I’m always glad to save an author from bad reviews because of poor editing.

It was maybe fifteen years ago that we all kept our feet under wraps. Flip flops weren’t everyday footwear and Crocs hadn’t even debuted yet (That happened in 2002). Seeing someone’s feet was… scandalous. Shocking. And man, feet were ugly. None of the Victorian (was it Victorian? Historical-writing clients of mine, chime in. And remember: this is why I don’t fact check!) desires that escalated when a body part was hidden. Nothing erogenous about feet.

Of course, you can’t not notice the change in our culture since then. Flip flops everywhere. I haven’t grown to love those Nike slides that so many athletes wear; toes hanging over the front edge of your shoe don’t do it for me. And pedicures! They’ve become a staple of many lives (and I hear men aren’t afraid to indulge, either. More power to you men!).

I have a neighbor who wears shoes only under penalty of eviction. He’s taught his kids to be that way, too, and hey, more power to them, too. It does feel good to let the grass tickle your toes, even though I do question their judgement and degree of luck when they bike barefoot. That’s a lousy way to lose a toe!

But that bit about the grass tickling your toes… That’s a sentiment echoed in the world of Ultimate Frisbee, I’ve noticed over the past year. The players seem to have three kinds of footwear: Nike slides, cleats, and … nothing. (and they are wearing off on me, who now thinks nothing of stripping off hiking boots and wool socks and hanging out beside a field that way. Like I said, it does feel good to let the grass tickle your toes. And it’s strangely good for my arthritis, too.)

So with our feet so terribly on view, have you writers stopped to consider feet? They’ve gone, in just a few years (or so it feels to older-than-dirt me), from being ugly and gnarly and hidden away to being on display.

And terribly, terribly beautiful, too.

I didn’t notice it until those Ultimate fields, frankly. How gorgeous and sexy feet are.

And, here’s the editor’s point for you writers: how varied feet are. Toe length. Width. The way the foot takes the rest of its body’s weight: inside or outside. How does the weight resting on its heel affect the line of the leg going up into the hips, and then from there up into the back? Can you see the metatarsals or is the foot smooth? Is the arch high, shockingly high, medium, or is the foot flat — and how does that not only affect the footprint you leave behind you, but how you stand? Does the person stand balanced on the balls of his or her feet? What does it look like when the barefoot bohemian crosses his legs at the ankle and those feet are overlapping?

And then, too, questions arise about how footwear and bare feet define character. Have you ever been thrown for a loop when you run into some high-profile figure while he’s out getting ice cream and okay, the shorts you can handle, but … flip flops! You can see your boss’s, your favorite athlete’s toes! What about that moment when you find a picture of your favorite tattooed rocker in flip flops? Maybe they’ve got grungy shorts on and an older concert tee that belongs some band not their own. Their hair’s lank. But their feet? Look like they just got done with a good soak and pumice stone. Their fingernails may be dirt-caked, but not those toes.

Think about the people who never let their toes show. Who are they? What are they saying about themselves via their shoes? Their socks? Their choice to remain covered versus exposed?

Shoes, or the lack of them. Think about them as you write. Use these details as another way to define your character’s personality.

And then, be sure to kick off your own shoes and walk barefoot in the grass. My own grass is usually on the long side — Lawn Boy knows I like it that way — so c’mon over and stroll across my yard. You’ll be glad you did.

Yes, I love Mondays! I have for a long time: it used to be that the house would empty out and I’d get my solitude to work in. But it’s summer vacation and that means the house is rarely empty during the work week right now. The kids are old enough, though, to let me work like they’re not around — although they are interesting people, so I like to see what they’re up to, who they are online with, what games they’re playing, what they’re making me for lunch (hey, that actually worked a time or two!).

In terms of work, because I don’t like to wrap a project over a weekend when I can avoid it, Mondays mean starting a fresh project. A new manuscript, a new set of characters (or some old friends), another chance to spend time shaking my head in admiration of my client’s genius.

Speaking of genius, I just discovered the utter brilliance of the creative minds behind one of my all-time favorite shows: the name of lead character John Crichton. Yeah, I’m behind the 8-ball on this one … or am I? Do you guys get the brilliance? I am blown away.

Know what else blows me away? I checked my Amazon numbers for the books, to discover that someone had paid money for a copy of Mannequin! As you know, for some reason, it’s free everywhere BUT Amazon. That winds up in Mannequin being my most returned book at Amazon–people are pretty clearly making it free their own way, instead of helping me out and reporting it to them as free elsewhere. So to see a copy sold and not returned always makes me happy.

After the Pennwriters Conference last May, I started writing again. I’ve jumped projects — I think I got started on a comfort project until I could get back into the discipline and mindset of writing, and now I’m working on something serious. Not sure when you’ll see it. Definitely not Rocktober 2015, and most likely not April 2016, either, unless I pick up the pace. Which I’d like to do, but evenings this summer have been spent running the kids around. Namely the son. And namely Ultimate frisbee, a game which I’ve grown to really appreciate.

It’s your turn to blow me away: I still have a few spots open in August, so jump on soon. I can’t believe there are still open dates! This is usually the start of my busy season, and I’m hoping that after the best first half of the year ever (except May, for some reason — and yes, the dreaded June is still included in that count!), things don’t slow down. I’m on a roll over here, but I need you to keep it going.

I say all the time that I have the best clients. And I do. (Like attracts like, after all!)

Case in point: over the weekend, a newish client wanted me to alter my Word Document Only policy. It didn’t seem to be the sort of issue we’ve had in the past with people asking us to edit .pdfs or PowerPoints, so I was willing to consider it. I know a bunch of my clients use this format, so … I was curious to address this client’s concerns about my Word Only policy.

I sent an e-mail to a bunch of clients. Well, I sent a lot of e-mails; there was no group e-mailing involved.

And here’s the proof of how amazing my clients are. Every single one I sent the inquiry to got back to me, if not that night then the next morning.

I appreciate the speed, especially since I am not always that fast on the uptake (I wish I could be. Lately, I feel like I’m swimming through molasses). And what my clients had to say was enlightening. I learned a heck of a lot from them and once again, I am in awe of the folks who choose to hire me to edit their manuscripts.

So in the end, I turned down the request to edit in something other than Word. I probably lost a client, which means I’ve got room in August for anyone who is amazing, personally, and wants to work with me so their fiction can be every bit as awesome as they are.

And yes, all these superlatives are making me smile. Jett sent me a review over the weekend in which she complained that every single detail was perfect, incredible, amazing, beautiful, and more. I kinda get where that author was coming from, with all that praise. Doesn’t sound like it made for good fiction, but it sure makes for a happy editor over here. And happy editors work better and harder for their awesome clients.

You all know I’m a music lover, so “summer strains” could refer to some really cool music I’ve been listening to. And go ahead and boo me, but the new Five Finger Death Punch single cracks me up, especially once you know the backstory to it.

But no. Sadly, summer’s a tough time for me. The pulls of being outside, the need to work, the kids underfoot — I sadly live in a place that leaves us almost 100% dependent on cars to get around — and in need of supervision lest they become sucked into their computer screens and the games and manga that are filling their days. It’s tough. It’s very tough.

The good news is that my clients continue to be amazing, and my calendar continues to be full. June was my best ever June, although still the worst month of the year. New opportunities are still knocking and I’m doing my best to fit them all in, but how much can one girl cram into her life? Especially when, this summer, I’m spending three days a week in parks… when it’s not raining. Feeding the troops is a challenge even though we’re all good cooks, and then we have to get out the door. The past two weeks, one’s walking in when two are walking out. Crazy busy. It’s a strain, yes. It’s tough.

And I do love it. Well, not all this rain (can we send it to California please?) or the desire to be outside. But the job, the clients, the fiction. My kids crack me up, and they are smart enough to find themselves good friends. This is the good kind of summer strain: the strain on my pantry as everyone feeds themselves!

So blogging may be scarce. Paying work always takes precedence. The new admin over at The Rock of Pages still needs to get up and running and to pull Jett back into writing the reviews she owes me, you, and the authors she made promises to.

Lots going on… it’s all good. Except the rain.

And in all this, I do have openings in my schedule for August! Leaving them open will mean finishing up some of these in-progress projects but the simple truth is I need the editing every bit as much as I love to do it. It’s hard to get lazy and procrastinate when people are depending on you. But wait until you see what I’m cooking up now! You’re going to like it, especially those of you re-thinking your publication plans in light of the changes Amazon is making.

Stay tuned and keep sending your manuscripts and your friends my way. It all works out, and character is what we gain from the summer strains.

I was hanging out on Twitter a few weeks ago when I caught a Tweet from author Freya Lange. She was talking about a new anthology of erotic shorts, Hot Summer Nights. I told her I’d love to read it, so she sent me an .epub and just like that, I was off and reading.

This is an interesting anthology. It’s not juried, which means no one judged the submissions before they were accepted for publication. To some readers, that means something about quality. As someone who’s in a number of unjuried anthologies, it means these are good friends who are smart enough to capitalize on an opportunity to widen their readership.

However, the quality of the stories varies. Collection lead-off story The Endless Summer, written by Steve Williams, screams that it’s written by what we call a young writer. Had I been the editor, I would not have let this one lead off the anthology; it’s almost as if it signals that this is going to be a rough ride. Of course, if I were the editor, Mr. Williams and I would have done more work on the story before it was published, to bring it up to the level of the best in here.

That’s not to say the other stories aren’t strong. They are, and a few are exceptionally so, including Freya’s own Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday, which is the story of a young woman on a road trip in the late ’60s who learns an awful lot about love … and marriage, from a complete stranger and a cooler full of Coke.

Further kudos for creative settings and situations go to JC Winchester for Tryst in the Trail Shelter, a fun, steamy read. What struck me most about this story was the narrator’s understanding and love for her partner. I know… it’s supposed to be about the adventure, which is pretty much what it sounds like, given the title. But what we as readers respond to isn’t always what we’re supposed to, and that primary relationship is what I took away. It seemed so very real, so very realized. Kudos for pulling that off in a space so small. I would not be surprised to learn the author has worked with these two women before.

Bucky Duckman’s I’m not Gay wins for most humorous story and most clever manipulation of the main character. This story has stayed with me and makes me chuckle every time I think about it. A player finds a young woman to spend his summer nights with, but somehow, it becomes not only a threesome and his first experience with another man, but something addictive, too.

The story I think I had the most problems with, though, was Hole in the Basement Wall, written by TT Tales. From point of view shifts to a lack of tension in the story, this was one story I’d have loved to work with the author on. The potential in this story is huge and incredibly ambitious, but it simply wasn’t handled well. And the concept? Absolutely fabulous.

That misstep is offset by the collection’s standout story: Shea Mara’s Keys to the Sun. The least erotic of all the stories, this story, I felt, belonged in a major literary magazine. It’s a science fiction story about a colony on Venus. Issues of longing, of domination, of relationships, of hope are all brought up. Characters are well-drawn, and while the bad guy is pretty stock, he needs to be for the story to work as well as it does. The author understands this. She clearly understands what makes good fiction and while most of the authors in this anthology do, Ms. Mara is an unusual talent. And she’s not the only one.

Overall, yes, this anthology is one to pick up. Despite the weaknesses, every story has something redeeming going for it. Watch out for the typos –oh, how I’d love to give this entire anthology a good proofread. Interestingly, their number varies with the success of the stories, so proofing continuity is a bit of an issue. But remember, I have high standards; I edit for a living.

So ignore the typos and settle in for a good and hot read. One thing I didn’t mention: with the exception of Ms. Meara’s story, this collection is hot. Steamy hot. Don’t-read-in-public hot unless you like to squirm.

Which, of course, is a large part of the fun.

Haley Whitehall is back here at West of Mars! Yay, Haley!

I love that cover. I also love repeat visitors. And since we all know the drill, let’s get right to it: Haley, what song makes you think of your new book, Alpha’s Voodoo?

I’d like to thank Susan for letting me step into the spotlight once again. It is always a pleasure to be on West of Mars. I’ve recently had a book birthday. My new release, Alpha’s Voodoo, is my first historical paranormal romance. The interracial novella is set in New Orleans in the 1850s, and my story delves into Voodoo. In fact, the Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau plays an important part. Both the hero, Mark Afton, who is secretly a wolf shifter, and the heroine, Violet Creed, think they have been cursed. But have they?

When I was trying to think of a playlist for Alpha’s Voodoo, lots of songs with witchcraft and magic came to mind, but I don’t consider Marie Laveau a witch. In my erotic romance, she is more of a matchmaker.

I finally came across the perfect song Voo Doo by Rachel Sweet. The music video is a little creepy, but I like the lyrics. “Cause I’m caught in your magic spell. It’s such a spooky romance.” With Mark being a wolf shifter, he can indeed read Violet’s mind. See, the song lyrics were perfect!

For different reasons, my hero and heroine are afraid that their attraction to each other is not natural. If a spell is causing these strong feelings, what should they do?

Alpha’s Voodoo is the first book in the Bayou Pack series. Mark and Violet’s story will slowly unfold one book at a time.

Wow. That song has a very ’80s feel. (and the video has a very ’80s look, too! Think there’s a reason?) I’d have thought of Godsmack, myself, but … it’s always fun to be exposed to new stuff. Even if it’s very ’80s. (or maybe *especially*)

I would read this. I totally would. Here’s why:

With her reputation in tatters, debutante Violet Creed is forced to exchange her life of luxury for one of uncertainty. Mark Afton wants nothing more than to take his rightful place as the leader of the Bayou Pack, but he needs a mate. Is Violet Mark’s destined mate, or is their attraction merely Voodoo magic? Haley Whitehall is pleased to present Alpha’s Voodoo, Book 1 of her hot, new, paranormal romance series, Bayou Pack.

Are curses real or merely imagined?

Violet Creed is a colored New Orleans debutante. She was brought up with servants and a strict set of rules regarding propriety, and her papa never approved of her interest in Voodoo. One night she sneaks out of the house and attends one of Marie Laveau’s gatherings—where she loses her virginity and her reputation. Turned out by her papa, Violet is destined for a life on the streets until Madam Dawn saves her.

Cursed to live as a wolf shifter, Mark Afton is a wealthy lawyer and heir to the Bayou Pack. Unfortunately, he can’t take over leadership from his uncle without a mate. Wanting to escape his mother’s endless matchmaking attempts, he accepts Madam Dawn’s invitation to sail on the maiden voyage of the Southern Rose and enjoy the pleasurable company of her ladies.

One of Madam Dawn’s recent hires catches his attention. He is drawn to Violet immediately. Could she be his mate or is their attraction merely Voodoo?

Maybe it’s the whole Godsmack thing. I don’t know. But I’d totally read this.

If you agree, go pick up a copy.

Liquid Silver Books

Amazon Universal Link

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

All Romance Ebooks

Haley loves to connect with readers. You can find her here:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HaleyWhitehall

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LightonHistory

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5752677.Haley_Whitehall

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/haleywhitehall/

Website: https://haleywhitehall.com/

Blog: https://haleywhitehall.com/blog/

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Haley-Whitehall/e/B0078EO6CE/

So last week, I was full of the news that I was named one of the best freelance SFF editors out there. I’m still very flattered by that.

But this week, I’ve got more cool news for you. I’m leaving Chez West of Mars and making another personal appearance! The wonderful folk at Three Rivers Romance have invited me to come speak and present my workshop on what makes a great review.

Which means that yes, if I can fit it into my crazy busy life, I’m totally available for speaking engagements, workshop presentations, even to be editor-in-residence at your weekend retreat or conference. And you know what? I love to get out and interact with authors. So much so that a friend and I are looking into running our own retreats.

I have a couple other irons in the fire, as well. Things you may not expect from me unless we’ve worked together for any length of time… Things you’ll like.

Come join me. If you can’t make it to TRR this weekend, why not invite me to your next meeting or conference? I’d love to do it and as any of my clients can tell you, I have plenty to say. Wait. Let me put that in a better light ’cause I’m not really the blabbermouth I just made myself out to be. I have plenty of experience I’d be glad to share.

And here you thought I liked to sit (or stand) behind a monitor all day. As much as I do, I like to get out and see people, too.

Last weekend was, for me, finally, a lazy weekend. The kids were off doing the stuff my kids do and I had time and space to sleep in, lay around, breathe, and read.

And then I woke up Sunday morning to find this: Great Editors for SFF Novelists.

Author Traci Loudin has listed her top five picks for editors. And while she gets my turnaround time wrong (I strive to get your manuscript done in no more than one business week), the rest is pretty darn good.

Just goes to show what a lot of hard work will get you, right? First India Drummond, who has been an incredible client and a valued friend, too. And now Traci Loudin, who I haven’t yet had the chance to work in-depth with, but I’m hopeful we’ll get to. Both of these writers have recognized me for being among the best at what I do.

When you’re vetting your editor, remember this, especially because the other thing I had going on over the weekend was someone vetting editors strictly on price. Sometimes, you have to pay more for the editor who winds up on top lists. Every time (well, at least when it’s me you’re paying more for), it’ll be worth the extra cost.

As I said to that potential client, “I can fix errors in your book after it’s published. But I can’t fix the bad reviews that led you to ask me to fix someone else’s bad job.”

Even if it’s a stretch, hire the best you can afford. That means samples, sure. It means time spent doing research. But your book will benefit for it, and at the end of the day, isn’t that what you’re here for?

Two things happened at once: Submissions for the spotlight dried up and I got slammed with work. I’d say that was pretty good timing.

But I’m back with CK Johnson, a buddy of mine (she can talk more about our relationship if she so chooses and no, it’s NOT romantic. Sheesh. I like being single, folks!). Her first book, A Piper’s Song is a really cool twist on the Pied Piper story we all grew up with. Read on and see what I mean.

CK: What song makes you think of your book?

I wrote A Piper’s Song listening to a mix of rock and roll and Celtic music. However, this song actually came from a reader. They listened to this a few days after reading my book and sent me a message saying, “This is it- this is your book!” Of course I had to pull it up.

Note from Susan: Yep. It is!

So what’s the book’s description?

When you control music, every note is a weapon.

Most girls don’t think twice about singing along with their favorite song on the radio. Not me. I hum once and it zombifies the hottest guy in school.

The Pied Piper was real and I am his descendant. Music is my curse. If I don’t master the song inside myself, it will overpower me, and if that happens…

Let’s put it this way: the last piper to lose control led a town-full of children to a river and started the plague.

Welcome to my life.

Now, you know you need a copy. You really do.

Buy it at Amazon.

Connect with CK!
Website
https://www.facebook.com/people/Author-C-K-Johnson/100007611465481
Twitter
Goodreads

We made it, the kids and I. Another school year wrapped up, more report cards filled with grades I surely never achieved (unless I remember wrong, which is a possibility), and … time to sleep in, even for an hour.

Just an hour.

It’s the first day of summer vacation. Instead of getting up at 5:30 like I do during the year to provide backup alarm systems, I was up at …

Ready?

Wait for it.

You know it’s good.

Five.

Five freaking a.m.

I may as well put the time to good use, so if you’ve got a manuscript that needs to be edited, drop me a note. I’ve got extra time on the summer calendar, but it’s not going to last. I laugh that my clients like to send me their babies to work on while they’re off having a great vacation, no worries about anything, and they come home, recharged and renewed, ready to go. It’s a smart strategy and I swear, the finished products or the revised drafts that cross my desk again for more thoughts and help are all better for it.

I like that strategy, writer friends.

Of course, that means that summer’s my busiest season of the year. Even though I’ve got two kids underfoot, it winds up being very productive for me. (Guess I’m motivated by the idea of, “Guys, let me hit my page count and we’ll go to the pool for a few hours.”)

Take advantage, especially once I succeed at this sleeping in stuff. Less tired means less cranky means more productive, despite promises of going to the pool. Means better editing for you and paying off my landscaper for me.

I often feel like I’m beating my head against a brick wall, yes.

“I am a professional editor! Look at the affect my work will have on your sales!”

I can’t believe this person gets business. But then you read the next line: “Editing doesn’t need to be expensive! I will edit your book for cheap!”

Umm… yeah, okay. I’m sure you will. And a glance at your rates shows that yes, you charge less than I do.

But are you really an editor? REALLY?

Then why can’t you see the problematic word choice in your own promotional material? I’m not talking about a typo; we all make those. I’ve caught some in my own posts, which I’ve proofed a bunch of times. I’m talking about word choice. I’m talking about usage errors.

I’m talking about things you need to know inherently, the way you know two plus two equals four.

Affect/effect is one of them. Because when you use the wrong one in your promotional materials, you make the rest of us cringe. Good editing is expensive — maybe not as expensive as it should be, in my case (I STILL get harangued for my own rates being too low and devaluing the rest of my friends who edit. I keep telling them we are going for different audiences and to chill. Ninety percent of my clients, one hundred percent of whom I like, stretch to afford me now.)

Good editing is expensive. Good editing can make or break a book.

Look at it this way: when I was reviewing for The World’s Toughest Book Critics, I read a few books that were so good, they would have gotten the coveted star from me. But for one thing…

They’d have been better off if they’d taken the $400 or more they spent on a review and paid it to me directly to proofread their books.

Every. Single. One.

Think about that. Those authors undermined their own success and their own chance at getting their book tagged with a superlative because of poor proofreading.

Yeah. Pay that editor’s low prices. Let her have an AFFECT on your book.

I’ll be here when you wise up.

He stood from his chair.

Know what? Nothing clues me in to a young writer faster than that phrase. Oh, usually, I’ve caught on before, but this phrase? Yep. Dead giveaway.

Here’s why.

First off, standing is a gesture that’s so commonplace that it’s like sneezing. Blinking. Breathing. Walking. There’s no need for us to mention those things unless they are significant to the plot. So She stood becomes what I call play by play — those extra phrases that are really nothing more than what the theater folk call blocking. It’s the way to move a character across a page, nothing more. You can’t even call it character development; everyone stands at some point (unless you’re paralyzed, but you get what I mean)!

There’s a difference between moving a character across a page and moving a story forward. The two don’t always coincide.

Especially so when people are standing from their chairs. What else are they going to stand from? Ten times out of eleven in fiction, they are in a chair. (The eleventh, they are either on a couch or in a car. Maybe a barstool, but even that is a sort of chair.) And what’s the point of telling us that they are getting out of a chair?

Focus, always, on one thing: how does this advance my story? If you can’t answer that, we don’t need to know that he stood. And we especially don’t need the aurally awkward from his chair.

Now, one note to consider here: sometimes, these bits of play by play, these blocking movements are important to you, Steve or Stevie, the author. You need to know where all the characters are during the scene so they don’t do something dumb like magically appear when two pages ago, they were on a different continent. Or you need to know all this for your worldbuilding because you’ve created your own world and how people navigate it, physically, is important.

But that doesn’t mean the reader needs to know everything you do. In fact, it’s usually better if they don’t. But that’s another blog post for another time.

For now, go take a look. How many times do your characters stand, let alone stand from? You might want to fix that…

The best-laid intentions of mice and men… radio silence has fallen over here, and not just on the blog. I’ve got a list of e-mails to answer that’s a mile long.

So what’s going on? What the radio silence?

Life’s been a whirlwind. The conference. An edit that was really tough, tougher than expected. Out of town for a family event. A kid sick ALL. WEEK. LONG. And a weekend that should have been the first R&R in eons that … wasn’t. Nope. It was spent making sure Sick Kid got the right diet so he’s no longer Sick Kid. Really, it’s not that hard to make rice, buy bananas, grab the packet of cheese sauce and insist the noodles be eaten plain until this passes. And it finally did, thankfully. Nine days of school left, and I’m sure Sick Kid will spend a chunk of them making up what he’s missed. Talk about derailing your grades at the last minute. Yikes.

I’ve got a ton of stuff to blog about. I’m making notes. I just need the time and the energy to do it all…

As always, it’s all going to be worth it. If you want to challenge my time management, go on ahead and book dates. I got ’em open and once school’s out in nine days, I expect things to shift for the better. These five-thirty wakeups are killing me.

Nine more days.

I’ll be breaking radio silence more fully soon.

As I was prepping for my workshop — on all things reviews — something dawned on me: book publicity has changed. I have lists here on the site of the guest blog posts I’ve written over the years and of the interviews I’ve given. They go back years and while some of these sites are no longer active, or even in existence, it’s still proof I once took time to promote myself as a writer.

Since I returned to editing and made it my full-time focus, I have faced the double-edged sword of time management. Thankfully busy with editing, the self-promotion has fallen by the wayside. And in the time since I made that shift, promotion has changed.

Guest blog posts and interviews aren’t happening nearly as often as they used to. Now, it’s the book blast. The cover reveal.

Promo has become impersonal once again.

And it probably dovetails with the dropoff in interest in the Featured New Book Spotlight and Lines of Distinction. I’ve actually had authors send me their canned blast information to post for these features.

Umm… yeah, thanks, but … no. I’m asking for the personal touch. As a reader, I like to get to know authors. As a reader and blogger, I don’t like to see the exact same thing posted all over the Internet. The folks who are coordinated enough to get their message out on the same day (and I don’t mean Thunderclap, which I think is one of man’s stupidest inventions) both amaze me with their organization and … well, it’s irritating to see the exact same thing again and again. Same post. Same headline. Same content.

Know what happens to an editor when her eyes glaze over? It ain’t pretty, folks. There might be stuttering and drool involved. There’s definitely the shutting of tabs and windows and marking items in my feedreader as read even though they aren’t. Well, they sort of are. I mean, there’s a first for everything…

It wasn’t that long ago we were talking about this new transparent age. Where authors could connect with readers, and readers could connect with authors.

Oh, I know. The stories of stalking and trolling have put the chilling effect on us all.

But why are we standing for it? Why are we not fighting back? It’s not that hard. Look at Lines of Distinction. As an author, you KNOW what your favorite lines in your book are. Highlight ’em here. The only personal information you’re giving away is a marked preference for your own words. I’m not asking you to go out on a limb. Not with Lines of Distinction. It’s about your book and only your book. It’s meant to be easy promo that doesn’t make people’s eyes glaze over (we won’t go near the drool).

I miss the personal touch. I miss when people used social media to be social.

Guess I’m old school, but I’m all for bringing it back. You with me? Use those links. Lines of Distinction. The Featured New Book Spotlight. Feature yourself.

And like I said to Stevie, I got your back.

I do it every other year, and every other year, it’s completely different.

I’m talking about the Pennwriters Annual Conference. Every other year, it’s held in my backyard of Pittsburgh. I get to sleep at home, escape early from the chaos, and have some good decompression time. And I drive a lot. Half hour each way, but so totally worth it. Plus, driving down on Saturday, Octane was rocking hard and the music was blasting and it was a super way to start the day.

Anyone who’s been a repeat offender at Pennwriters (or any other convention, I’m sure) will agree with this: even when the faces are mostly the same, the conference experience never is. There’s always something new to explore, someone new who makes a difference.

Two years ago, I spent most of the conference sitting in a hallway, wrangling authors who were going to pitch agents and acquiring editors. I had a ball, don’t get me wrong, and not just because a number of my conference buddies amused me by telling me that they hadn’t realized I was even in attendance. And, as always, I learned a lot.

This year, it was totally different. I couldn’t deliver the SIX baskets I’d collected for the Chinese Auction until Friday morning, so as soon as I tossed kids out the door and onto the school bus, it was into the car to get the baskets set up.

I spent the morning doing that, helping my friend and subcontractor Mary get all the baskets together. We had another Susan helping us and it was friendly and companionable and comfortable. What a super way to ease into the event.

A month out, I’d planned to skip the two lunches the conference offered: one for only those who’ve achieved Published status and the other was for the unwashed masses. I hate class structure like that, and I think that in this age of transparency and a changed publishing model, the need for this structure is over. So I’d expected to have a quiet lunch by myself in the hotel restaurant.

But I mentioned that I was skipping the organized lunches and talks to a friend I meet with monthly. And suddenly, I had a lunch date.

Fast forward to the conference. I’m sitting in a chair, waiting for my friend, and … someone walks up. She’s going to have lunch by herself. Or… she was. She joins me.

A minute later, there’s still no sign of my friend. Good thing because Mary shows up with a buddy, one of the best storytellers I’ve ever met.

And lunch for one became five. It was not a quiet lunch. Not even close.

That’s how the weekend went. Good people around me at all times. Some were new faces. Some were old. Some were connections I’d made over ten years ago in an entirely different venue. But I never felt alone, never felt lonely or lost or ignored, even when I was sitting by myself.

I gave my first workshop. It needs some tweaking and probably broken into two different sessions altogether. But I’m also booked for next month to give it again. I was asked to do an online workshop and while I think that may not come to be — my credentials seemed to ultimately be disappointing, since I’m not an acquiring editor — at least I was asked.

Someone asked me where I see myself in five years. I’ve been thinking about that. I see myself doing more of this. More talks. More networking. More editing. More success.

That was the texture of this year’s conference. Last time, it was about helping others calm their nerves, about finding them time for expanded opportunities. This time, it felt like I’ve been waiting for it to feel.

My favorite line of the weekend? “I’ve been seeing this West of Mars everywhere, it feels like.”

YES. Hey, did I tell you I have editing dates open this summer?

He gazed at her sexy mouth. “Want me to give into my urges?”

Wow. Good line!

Amazon
BN
Apple
Kobo

Last week, one of my friends and clients — we’ll call her Stevie — got a rejection from a literary agent. She asked me for my interpretation (“Hey, she strongly encourages you to query others so yes, I’d say she’s encouraging.” I am very helpful at times, aren’t I?) and then said she wasn’t happy with part of her latest WIP.

So no surprise that Stevie crops up on Facebook saying she feels like a fraud. And no real surprise when a bunch of other writer friends — published in various ways, as always — chimed in that they feel the same way.

I threw sparkles and unicorns at ’em ’cause I recognized what was happening: our buddy IWI, or Inherent Writerly Insecurity.

It’s part and parcel of the curse of being a writer. The self-doubt. The feeling like you can’t replicate past success, even if the success is something only in your perception. Hell, I feel it. I worry I’ll never be able to create a character as wonderful and alive as Trevor Fucking Wolff. And with a name like that, are you surprised?

The question really becomes how we deal with it. If we can learn to embrace the Inherent Writerly Insecurity enough to make it work for us. No one as amazing as Trevor? Throw that gauntlet DOWN, folks. I’m THERE. (I’d like to think I did it with T, the bass player for Ice Cubes in Hell and yes, it took me THIS long to realize I have two amazing characters who are bass players and whose names begin with the same letter. We’ll get to author signatures another time, though. And if you haven’t met T, pick up Broken. For sale at all your favorite retailers for a whopping 99 cents.)

This is a hard lesson to learn, to make IWI work for us. To view it as a challenge, and the fact that not everyone can do what I do is part of what makes the world such a wonderful place. Takes all kinds, right?

So.

Since you ain’t me, here’s what I tell my clients, all those Steves and Stevies, who drop into my inbox to lean on my really strong shoulders:

It’s okay to feel this way. Hell, you wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t.

But yes, it’s you who created everything you see on those pages at B&N, Amazon, and GoodReads. You really did accomplish that, and it is proof you are not a fraud. Frauds always get found out. Always. Trust me. I’ve pulled back more than one curtain on people who try to call themselves Oz. I know whereof I speak, and I know damn well, having seen the work you send my way, that you’re NOT a fraud.

What you’re listening to right now is the nagging voice of doubt. We all have it, even the people who aren’t authors. For us, though, who take every phone ring that’s not an agent offering representation as a rejection, who take every glance at our sales reports as a rejection even though we just checked thirty seconds ago, well… we let those demons in. We let our breath catch every time the phone rings. We keep checking the sales reports.

We have to be more diligent than the rest of the world about our fears and doubts. We can’t let them cripple us.

That doesn’t mean that every now and then, we don’t need to spend a day (or, better yet, an hour … okay, ten seconds) beating ourselves up because what’s in our head doesn’t transfer to the page with the same eloquence it danced across our brains. I think that taking a step back and listening to the doubt can be a good thing. It helps push us forward — see above about Trevor and T and the way I intend to make other characters as alive and vivid as those two.

Use it. Inherent Writerly Insecurity should be nothing more than another tool in our arsenal, another way in which we can connect to characters of all shapes, sizes, temperaments, and talents. Let it power your character’s flaws, their own sagging self-confidence.

Don’t let it get you down. Don’t let it cripple you.

You are made of stronger stuff than this. I promise.

And I got your back. More than anything, I got your back.

If you follow West of Mars on Facebook, you’ve seen mention of my new desk, which lets me go from standing to sitting with the push of a lever.

I love being able to stand and work. And dance and work (because you know me and the Spotify’s always jamming away when I’m working and it really is unfortunate that it’s open window season right now because my neighbors who walk their dogs might be serenaded by a certain standing-and-dancing-while-working certified tone-deaf editor).

I didn’t think I’d like it this much. Standing.

But know what I’ve learned? Sitting effs up my posture something fierce. My shoulders sit back again, my head is high, my spine is lengthened, my gut pulled in, abs activated. I want to be in here, standing at my desk. Weekends, evenings… I want to be here. I really do.

Know what else I’ve learned? I’m actually less physically tired at the end of the day. Not just the end of the work day. The end of the day. And somehow, that’s translated into sleeping better. And then, come 5:30? It’s not been quite as hard to get up, although I still yearn for the days when 5:30 was bedtime.

Easier awakenings, in turn, make it easier to get to the gym. The gym, of course, is vital to my wonky joints and while I’m not quite back into my old routine, I can say that my workouts are harder and I’m getting more out of them. I’m starting to rebuild the strength I have lost over the past year or two. It’s a long road back and maybe after two or three weeks, it’s premature to say, but dude. It’s all about attitude, right? And if I feel strong…

And my focus? Through the roof! I’m more productive than ever, which is amazing. (Motivation, however, continues to lag, but that’s another story and the next obstacle to get tackled.)

All for a desk that lets me stand or sit. (and dance. Don’t forget the dancing.)

Dance your days away. Take care of your own health. Try something new; you may be as pleasantly surprised by the results as I have been.