...and who is to say whether one is "more" right than the other? (Hint: We are. We wrote the damned manuscript, we get to say which reader is correct on this one.)
 
A couple of years ago, we wrote a young adult mystery novel incorporating horror elements and a bit of romance. Something Wicked was strong enough to find us an agent, not quite strong enough to find us a publisher. (Penguin Books said nice things about the story but they failed to say the nicest thing of all: "Contract enclosed.")
 
Later, the story found us an e-publisher (who was kind enough to say, "contract enclosed"), but our relationship splintered right around our fourth editor...the editors kept quitting the company, not us specifically...so we took a giant step and became our own publisher. We enjoyed the process so much that we turned down a contract for The Atheist's Daughter and published it ourselves, too.  We just kept doing this and, today, we've published several titles, including a few we don't talk about here.
 
Mostly, we've loved the process. The one part we haven't loved? Something Wicked never found an audience. It just keeps dropping further and further down the sales chart. No one has offered an Amazon review for two years. The last e-book download was three months ago. Unlike the fish in the photo above, our poor novel is dead in the water.
 
It happens to writers all the time. Yesterday, Harrell wanted to find a novel by Ron Goulart. R.G. was a prolific novelist in his day but his fiction has disappeared from our local library shelves. It's also missing from the shelves of the last bookstore we visited.  If a good writer like Goulart can vanish, what hope have we?
 
Since we're our own boss, we decided to do a SW rewrite. The changes are subtle -- tying SW into the world of Atheist's Daughter -- but significant. Then we edited, then we rewrote, then...we were confused. Was the book any better, really? Did it still flow? Would it grab an older audience? After reading and re-reading the pages, we no longer knew. We cried out for beta readers and, to our joy, a pair of them appeared.
 
It took a few weeks but the results are in. The book is great. The book is boring. The opening sets the tone perfectly. The opening should be dropped. People can relate to our heroine. People will think our heroine is whiny and self-obsessed.
 
So, yeah, two different readers, two different viewpoints. We actually -- this is so stupid -- checked to see that we'd sent each of them the same manuscript. One of our betas loved the book, highlighted the sections she really liked, and offered to share her feelings on Facebook and Twitter. We declined...see last week's post about promotions...but we were flattered. The other beta hated the book, highlighted the pieces he really hated, and offered some suggestions to try to save the story. He was sincere and did this out of the kindness of his heart.
 
We're grateful to both of them. But, all things considered, we think we'll go with the lady that thought the book was terrific. In a week or so, the new version will be released into the wild. When that happens, we'll let you know (and we may make it free for a few days. We're still discussing it. We'll let you know about that, too).
 
Currently watching: Storage 24 on Netflix. This is how you do low-budget horror....
 
What the hell?: The complete and unabridged audio edition of Aly's Luck is available here for $1.99. If one of our wonderful readers hadn't dropped us a line, we'd have had no idea. Last time we checked, Amazon wanted $19.95 for thing -- and now it suddenly cost less than the price of a Starbuck's coffee? Well, that explains our latest royalty statement....
 
Currently drinking: Lagunitas Sucks, BrownShugga Substitute Ale. Not wine, we know, but how can you not try a drink with "sucks" in the title?
 
Quote o' the day: “A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.” -- Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

...and we like those people. We don't read their novels -- after all, we haven't heard of them or their creations, so why would we be interested in their writing? -- but that's one of the downsides of avoiding book promotion. If people don't know about your work, they're unlikely to buy it. (Well, duh.)

We’re terrible at promoting our work and that’s why our own sales figures are so dismal. (Yes, that IS what we tell ourselves on a regular basis.) We mention this today because we recently picked up a free Kindle book, courtesy of eReaderIQ, that promised to help us correct that problem. In this ebook bestseller, the author shares her secret behind tens of thousands of paid downloads.

What specifically does she do? She promotes her work endlessly. Specifically, she tweets. On the hour, every hour, and sometimes twice an hour. Every tweet includes a pitch to buy one of her books.

Her tweets go something like this: You know what's great? My book  GUN-JITSU: ENTER THE FIST! Also, powdered milk! It's so handy!

I bought my mother a copy of my book GUN-JITSU: ENTER THE FIST! She says it's the best thing since powdered milk!

My kitty is named GUN-JITSU: ENTER THE FIST! Just like my book! Uh-oh, I think I'm allergic to powdered milk!

Personally, we hate the hard sell but not everyone agrees with us. Twitter is so happy with the idea, they’ve developed an auto-tweet, allowing the Twitter-pated to queue up their messages and send them night and day. If you’d like to use the auto-tweet, you’ll need to find it yourself. We think it’s the devil’s work and we refuse to help.

We complained to a writing buddy but he told us that all of the shouting is worthwhile. He admits he’s been a little obnoxious, pushing his first novel on Facebook, and we’d agree. His self-promotion has resulted in a low two digit sale number (as in, less than 20 buys) but he counts it as a win. We count it as a reason to avoid his Facebook page.

It was right about then that we wandered over to Absolute White and found a voice of calm restraint. Specifically, we discovered Jane Wallace-Knight. In a forum devoted to book promotion, she wrote, "I have my first book coming out next week and as I'm British I hate bigging myself up and am full of self-deprecation."
 
We liked her immediately. We also liked the phrase "bigging myself up" and, since we're the best in the world at self-deprecation, we felt we could relate to her feelings. Also, on alternate Thursdays, Renee proclaims that she’s British, too. We immediately went over to Jane's blog site, only to discover that her posts were as modest and polite as she is. She's joined Twitter but we aren't following her. Without even meeting the woman, we suspect she hates being in the Twittersphere and her tweets will reflect those emotions.

Jane will blog, because she must, and she'll tweet, because she should, but she'd much rather be writing. We've been in her shoes so we know she feels obligated to do some kind of promotion. Since her novel -- The Holy Trinity (The Wolves of Gardwich) -- is about to be released into the world, we thought we'd lend a promotional hand. A sister-to-sister (and one brother) kind of thing.

We thought it best to approach things gently so we knocked softly on her electronic door but only asked three questions:

How did a nice lady like you decide to start writing m/m erotica?

Jane: I started reading fanfiction when I was about nineteen and I found that there was so much more m/m fiction than there was m/f. I also found the quality of writing to be better and less self-indulgent. At first I would skip over the sex scenes, just wanting to immerse myself in the written world, but eventually the love stories written there would pull me in. I decided to start writing some myself and by then m/m just seemed to come more naturally to me, which is perhaps a little strange in hindsight as I am a straight female.

Does your mother know?

Jane: No. She knows that I write and that I have a book series coming out, but she doesn't know what it's about, much to her frustration. The sex scenes in the book are pretty explicit and the thought of my mother ever getting hold of it and reading it is enough to give me nightmares.

What's the storyline to your story and, since we're on the subject, why is it the best novel ever written by anyone anywhere ever? If you deny it's the best novel ever written, we'll just know you're being modest.

Jane: It is by no means the best novel ever written. I didn't set out to write a life-changing book that tops best seller lists. My book is a love story that will only appeal to a select group of people. However, if you are the sort of person who likes the idea of a werewolf, a vampire, and an angel falling in love then you might want to give it a read.
 
Jane's novel comes out in June from Siren Publishing. Tell 'em "Renée Harrell sent me" and they'll look at you oddly.

Reading: Bill Fitzhugh's Pest Control. Such fun.
 
Quote of the day: “The less you have to sell, the harder you sell it” – Tim Minchin, Matilda the Musical

...and, then, on the same weekend, our small town decides it's time for a little fun. To that end, they arrange for the Highlands Games out by the lake and a combo art show/wine tasting in the downtown district. Decisions, decisions.
 
In case you haven't gone to a Highlands Games event, the festivities exist to celebrate all things Celtic. There are bagpipers and dancers, herding dog exhibitions and athletic events (people toss heavy things as far as they can be thrown). There are booths selling food, drink, and t-shirts. This time, there was even a whiskey tasting.
 
We decided to skip the Highlands Games for three reasons. One, both of us would prefer to be there as participants instead of observers (but we don't get to play. Damn our lack of Celtic heritage); it just seems like it would be a lot more fun. Secondly, neither of us really, truly enjoys whiskey. Even the good stuff.
 
And, far from last, we would have had to buy tickets. It cost $16 a person to walk through the gate. For $16 a person, we reasoned, we could buy a pretty decent bottle of wine.
 
So we went to the town's other celebration of life. We did this because, one, we like art; two, we like wine; three, and far from last, the show was free for anyone who came downtown. In case you haven't gone to an art show/wine tasting, the festivities exist to celebrate good art and delicious wine. There are no bagpipers or dancers, no herding dogs and the only athletic event is pretending to be sober when you've spent too long sipping at the tiny little cups that contain the grape squeezings.
 
When we arrived, we found booths lining the streets and vendors selling food, drink, art and wine. We also discovered there were people selling jewelry and pottery, cowboy hats and bumper stickers. Wind chimes were available, meat seasonings merited their own booth, and there was a pasta company selling...well, pasta. We walked past every booth and all of the random musicians strumming on their random instruments. When we were done, we found very little actual art available for sale and most of those pieces were pleasant and a little, uh, boring. Why?
 
"People who come to a street fair could care less about artistic merit," one vendor/artist told us. He said this without bitterness but, then, his flower-filled booth was directly next to the kettle corn vendor. He was eating kettle corn as he talked. "They're looking for something sweet to eat and something fun to drink. If it's cheap enough, maybe they'll get some watercolor lilies. People want 'pretty'. They want 'pleasant'. These days, they don't want to be challenged."
 
Well, now we know. Freshly enlightened (and intrigued by the homemade fudge at the corner booth), Renee has decided to put away her latest canvas (the layout currently features an early-1960s Ken doll and emphasizes castration). Let this be a warning to you, too. If your artistic project is dark, gritty or unnerving, set it aside. Let the Chicken Soup for the Soul series be your guide. Somebody somewhere has sold over 100 million copies of those things.
 
Meanwhile, our most popular Kindle title (sadly, dark and gritty) has barely crossed into the four digits.
 
Currently drinking: Pillsbury Wine Company's WildChild Red. If you can find it, you should try it.
 
Currently enjoying: Better Off Ted. Why didn't we know about this show when it was on the air? (We're watching on Netflix.)
 
Quote of the day (just because): "Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" -- Mary Anne Radmacher
 
Kettle corn recipe: Thanks to the good folks at AllRecipes.com -- here

...and we've got the saddle sores to prove it. We mean this literally. Once again, a life experience has made us a little wiser in the ways of the world and just a tad bit disillusioned.
 
While you slept in this weekend, we got up early, drove for many miles, and joined over a dozen other greenhorns on a trail ride. Half of the team was eager to ride a horse again -- "You know, in case we ever write a Western" -- and the other half was too distracted by the televised NFL draft to realize that this was a bad idea.
 
Why was it a bad idea? Neither one of us had been on a horse since we were children. You know, back in the days when our bones tended to bend instead of break. But TravelZoo was offering a half-price coupon so how we could lose? We made our reservations, showed up on time...and discovered that the world had changed since either of us had climbed aboard a pony.
 
In the days of our youth, if someone had a horse, they'd throw a blanket on its back, toss an eager if unsuspecting child on the blanket, and see if the kid survived. For both of us, this had been a plan that worked. No longer. Apparently, there were no lawyers in the olden days because the 21st century ranch requires a few more rules and regs before they'll let you on their well-worn nags. Everyone is encouraged to wear a bicycle helmet (no one over the age of eight wore the bicycle helmet); no one is allowed to wear a hat that doesn't have a chin strap (several people wore hats without chin straps); and everyone is required to sign and initial three pages of legalese that indemnifies the ranch in case anything happens, up to and including the Apocalypse.
 
There were three categories of riders: Beginner, Intermediate and Expert. A "beginner" was anyone who'd ridden 50 times or less. With this stipulation, our particular collection of riders were all beginners. (One cowboy confessed they almost always have all beginners.) Then it was time to giddy-up.
 
If our experience is typical...and we both suspect it is...then our forthcoming Western will not be an exciting novel. It will go something like this: Twenty minutes into the trail ride, Tex Branigan began to pray something would happen to break the monotony. Even this early in the morning, he thought, it’s so damned hot. I should have worn my hat, chin strap or no. Oh, God, we’ve still got over an hour to go. Unless…could my watch be broken? Oh, please, let my watch be broken.

Just ahead of him, the beautiful Annie D’Orville straddled her steed with an easy confidence. She thought to herself, why does the horse in front of me keep pooping? I don’t care what anyone says, it really stinks. Oh, there it goes again. That’s like twenty pounds of product, green and chunky and awful. I should ask Tex how long we've been out here. The ride should be over soon. Right? Right?
 
On the plus side, it was a safe ride. There was a brief 30-second interval when the lead cowboy mistakenly had his horse move faster than a slow and terrible walk. The moment this happened, his supervising cowboy called out for him to slow down. "It's all fun and games," he cried, "until we have to fill out an incident report." 

*sigh*
 
When we got back into town, we ran into an old cowhand. We mentioned that, as brief as our experience had been, we'd actually come up with a saddle sore or two. "Next time, wear pantyhose," he told us. "All the cowboys do. Cut 'em off above the knee, they really cut down on the friction."
 
Cowboys, incident reports and pantyhose. We're telling you, the fantasy is gone.