I took a course on marketing – yes, I’m that ingenuous – and the coach suggested giving away copies of our books for free in exchange for reviews. Well, I’ve been offering free copies of my eBooks to many book bloggers (yes, I did check they were taking eBooks) but only a few were interested. If it weren’t so stupid, it’d be funny how much rejection can hurt.
It’s not that my books are bad (at least according to my readers and my German agent), I just don’t seem able to phrase my offers in a way that makes the stories sound as interesting as (I think) they are. Sigh.
I know, I’ll get over it soon enough but for the moment, I feel like hanging in the air with a mile of nothing below – no parachute, no bungee. All that can stop me from falling is my imagination.
Being an author has been my dream ever since I learned my alphabet. Why should I give up only because it takes time to find those who love the same quirky things I like? (Oh, are that tiny wings sprouting from my shoulders?) Maybe, I should offer more free books, and not only to book bloggers but to everyone who is willing to leave reviews on amazon, smashwords, goodreads, and any other place? Meanwhile, I could write more books until more and more people discover they like the way I write.
Argh – this was supposed to be a Blues, and Blues Songs are sad. Now, look what I’ve done. I went and grew myself wings – pink ones. I hate pink. Why couldn’t they be green? Watch me flying off to translate the next chapter mumbling, “I guess it’s time to stop singing. I’m just not cut out for sad songs or stories. I should have known…”