An Author's Anthem...

Not a day goes by that at least one author friend fails to mention their despair over lackluster readership.   I know I've spent the better part of the past five years searching for mine.  Some say the market is flooded - too many books to go around.  While there are millions of titles to choose from, I don't buy the explanation that readers have too many options.  Don't believe me?  The next time you're at the grocery store, take a look at the condiment aisle.  I bet you'll find at least two dozen varieties of barbeque sauce - and those are just the ones that make it onto the shelf.  People like variety, and while the majority of shoppers might toss a bottle of Kraft into their cart, there are always those folks who'll take home Stubb's or Sweet Baby Ray's.  It's the same with books.  There's an audience for everything - the key is how to tap into it.

Now, I'll admit, I'm not very good with puzzles (jigsaws aside).  My brain has difficulty fitting together moving pieces, especially when they shape-shift halfway through the process.  I'm referring, of course, to the ever-changing book market.  What's hot one day is ice-cold the next.  Sales platforms continually update the hows and whys and what fors, and for someone who, thirty years ago, barely squeaked by their college-level economics class with a passing grade, I find the entire undertaking a mystery.  Sadly, as my opening sentence illustrates, I'm not alone.

I've put a lot of thought into what I want out of this career.  Riches and fame aside - just kidding...well, only a little - I want to entertain; provide readers with a few hours of enjoyment and escapism.  But what I really want is for them to take a chance on me.  That unknown author who no one is talking about that wrote the book no one is reading.  My book.

So the following is dedicated to all of the authors out there who feel the same way.

An Author’s Anthem

You may not know me, but I am not unknown.
Though my covers don’t grace your Kindle
And my characters remain unmet;
My words unread;
My stories are not less.

Days, weeks, months;
Years of emotion and sacrifice are
Inked across each page,
New worlds waiting to be discovered
Anticipating exploration by curious minds.

I understand; my reviews don’t number 100, or 50, or 10;
Not necessarily a reflection of quality,
Nevertheless, you’re wary of investing money and time
Into works unfamiliar.
What you don't realize is I’ve invested much more than that.

Time away from family and friends,
Lack of sleep, of proper nutrition, of sanity.
Of believing I can succeed when portents around me suggest otherwise.
My heart and soul are etched into each word; each paragraph;
Each story.

I write of happiness and despair; second chances and renewal.
Of failure and hope and excitement and expectation.
Life abounds between the pages.
My life – your life.
THIS is why you should know me.

Time to take a chance on something new...

Giving myself permission...

As I've matured, I've realized that lessons taught to me in my youth don't necessarily apply in a grown-up world.  For example, it's one thing to be told, as a child, to not talk to strangers, but striking up a conversation with someone unknown is an (almost) daily occurrence in adulthood, so while it's outstanding advice for a six-year-old, it's not as pertinent to a middle-ager.  Therefore, it's about time I adopt a grown-up way of thinking about how I choose to spend the rest of my days. 

I have this odd personality trait of which I'm not overly fond.  It's the worry that someone (and by someone, I mean every known and unknown entity in the Universe) is going to judge me for the decisions I make.  Now, I can't say that every single choice I've ever made in my life has been stellar, but I've got a pretty firm grasp on the concept of right and wrong and tend to err on the side of caution when doing anything, so where all of this imaginary criticism comes from, I have no idea.   Something to discuss with a therapist one day, I think.

It's e-x-h-a-u-s-t-i-n-g to continuously stress over what other people may or may not think about how I live my life.  I mean, if my day-to-day activities are all someone has to worry about, they don't lead a very fulfilling existence.  Just saying.  So, after fifty-one years and a lot of internal dialogue, I'm giving myself permission to act, say, and do what I want without worrying about anyone else's opinion - perceived or otherwise.  Whew!  It feels great to say that out loud!  I'm giving myself permission to have crappy days, and eat junk food on occasion, and spend a day in bed binge-watching TV without owing an explanation to anyone about anything.

I'm also giving myself permission to be proud of my accomplishments.  I have a terrible habit of minimizing my achievements, telling myself that they're not important or that anyone could do the same or, by sharing with others, I'm bragging and trying to make it all about me.  You know what?  All of that might be true, but it doesn't negate the fact that, through my own efforts, I attained my goal, no matter how big or small, and have every right to be excited about the win.

I'm giving myself permission to own (and stick to) the guidelines I create for my projects.  I hate inconveniencing other people, even if by doing so I inconvenience myself, but you know what?  In my advancing years, I've learned you can't please everyone no matter how hard you try.  Shocker, right?  Now, that's not to say I'm going to turn into a selfish b*tch who's inflexible and refuses to help someone who needs it.  In my wildest dreams, I could never be that person.  What I am doing is giving myself permission to put me first.      

In a more personal area of my life, I'm giving myself permission to let go.

My father died almost seven years ago.  His passing was sudden, and unexpected, and drove a stake through my heart.  I'd spoken to him on the phone two days earlier with no inkling that it would be the last conversation we ever had.  The last time I heard his voice.  The last time he told me he loved me.  The last time he would be there when I needed him.

For the past six years and ten months, I've been unable to look at a picture of my dad without crying which is why there's not a single snapshot in view.  While my grief has faded from mind-numbing, chest-clenching, nauseating pain to something else and my head's accepted that he's gone, my heart never has.  To think of him, and how much I miss him, brings a wave of anguish as fresh as the day I received the call.  The thing of it is, though; that sorrow, that misery, my heart's refusal to look upon snapshots of his face - none of that changes the fact that he's gone.  Logically, I know that, and it's time that emotionally I face it as well.

Some irrational part of me is afraid that if I purge the grief from my soul, I'll forget him.  I know that's not true.  There's nothing in this world that can take the love I have for my dad away from me.  Nothing!  And moving beyond these feelings that affect me emotionally, as well as physically, doesn't mean that I'll forget him.  I could never forget the man who was, and is, such a part of who I am. 

So, I'm giving myself permission to let go of the sadness, and pain, and silly hope that his death is all a bad dream and he's still a phone call away.  I'm letting go. 

Goodbye, Dad.  I love you, and promise to put your picture where I can look at it with a smile instead of tears.

The process of living doesn't screech to a halt as we get older, and to stop in our tracks and refuse to move forward - to grow; to learn - is the equivalent of dying in my opinion.  Maybe worse, because it's an active choice.  I resist the idea that this - right now, the person I am today - is the best I can be.  I can do more, be more, create more; and I fully intend to because, you see, I'm giving myself permission to do just that.

What do you need to give yourself permission to do?       

I did a thing...

In my neverending quest to promote authors, including myself, I launched a podcast.  Yup!  You read that right!  I can now add podcaster to my list of accomplishments. 

The show is called Word Play with Kristine Raymond.  Where authors get together to talk about writing, reading, and anything else that comes to mind.  Unscripted.  Unrehearsed.  Real conversations.

How's that for a tagline?

There are three episodes up already, and new ones drop every Wednesday on PodBean, iTunes, Google Play Music, and Spotify.  (More channels are in the works.)  The thing I like most about recording the show is that my guests don't feel like they have to prepare for an oral exam; instead, it's a casual conversation between two friends (even if we've never met) where we talk books, the weather, pets, Star Trek (that's on next week's episode with Jocie McKade)...well, pretty much, anything and everything!  And it's amazing the things you learn about a person just by listening.

So, that's my next big thing.  I'm still writing, of course.  Enduring Traditions releases next Tuesday, and I'm currently increasing my word count on Finn-agled.  And, given enough time, I'm sure I'll come up with something new to try because the one thing I never run out of is fresh ideas.

Until next time...

In general, I'm a quiet person...

...it's fine.  I'll wait while you enjoy the humor of that statement.  Better now?  Stop laughing?  Catch your breath?

As I was saying -

I'm generally a quiet person.  By that I mean, I'm more comfortable in solitary surroundings than I am in a group setting.  I have little desire to socialize on a regular basis (though author events are SO MUCH FUN!), but to just hang out with people on a monthly, weekly, or - gulp - daily basis...nope, not for me.

This is nothing new.  As a kid, I didn't have many friends and spent most of my high school years alone in my room listening to records.  I also read a lot (go figure) and took pictures of clouds.  How I didn't end up becoming a meteorologist, I'll never know.  Anyway, as I said, this trait of keeping to myself is nothing new, and I'm okay with it -- for the most part.  But, here's where it gets tricky...

Writing is a solitary endeavor.  Perfect for my personality type.  I spend my days (and, sometimes, nights) playing with my imaginary friends, and since I make them up, they have to like me.  It's the rule.  Promoting, however, is anything but a solitary endeavor.  The entire point of it is to stand up and get everyone's attention and say, "Look at me!  Look what I did!  I wrote a book (or a song or painted a picture or created a piece of jewelry or...").  You get my drift.   And, quite honestly, that's the part I suck at!

I don't mind sharing my new releases; in fact, I usually can't share them fast enough.  But once that book is out there, it's difficult for me to keep talking about it.  And, that's a bad thing, because, without the constant hype, my name and the titles of my stories quickly fade from peoples' minds.  There are soooo many books out there and so many being released each day that readers have a hard time keeping up with the ones they see, much less those that aren't promoted.  Hence my issue...

You might have noticed that I don't post on social media or my blog with any regularity.  The main reason for this is that I don't have a lot to say.  Nothing that would be of any interest to anyone - at least, in my opinion.  So, to only promote my books, especially the older titles, when I do get on social media seems self-centered and braggy, neither of which exist in my bag of personality traits.  Oh, I have no problem promoting other authors' books; in fact, I love doing it.  It's my own that trip me up.

However, realization is the first step towards change, right?  And, I know I have to start promoting my own books even without having a new release.  No better place to start than here.  So, without further ado, here are the books I've written and published to date, and, might I add, I'm proud of all of them.

                                     

  

There you have it.  These are my books.  If you're interested in learning more about them, please visit my website.  The promotional part of this blog post is now over.  You may return to your regularly scheduled reading.

Hmmm...maybe I'm starting to get the hang of this...

Taking it for granted...

I don't view myself as someone who's technologically-dependant.  Oh, sure; I never leave home without my smartphone - an iPhone 5s with a measly 12gb of memory - but it still rings and makes calls and connects to the internet when I need it to, so why upgrade?  And I have my original iPad - the one that only works with a WiFi connection, and a second generation Kindle.  Do you see a theme?

So, I had no intention of replacing my functioning (albeit a bit slowly, but, hey, I'm no spring chicken either) 8-year-old desktop anytime soon.  Apparently, Windows 10 had a different idea.  No longer able to support the updates that continuously buffetted her systems, last Sunday my Gateway decided she'd had enough and cloaked herself in the Blue Screen of Death.  No amount of cajoling, begging, or pleading on my part could convince her to change her mind, so off to the tech hospital she went.  It was touch-and-go for a few days, my hopes rising mid-week only to be dashed on Thursday by news that the old girl just couldn't handle the demands being placed on her.  Allowing her to retire gracefully seemed the right thing to do - she had, after all, been a faithful companion for well over her projected lifespan - and a shiny new Dell Inspiron was purchased to take her place.

Which brings me to the title of this post.  I take for granted that I can work whenever the mood hits and being unable to walk into my office and sit at my computer this past week has been stressful, to say the least.  Those seven days felt more like seven months, and it occurred to me that I'm as plugged-in as the rest of society.  Bringing home my new desktop last night filled me with a sense of contentment, and while I'm not enjoying the process of reinstalling 1439 fonts one file at a time, it felt great to wake up this morning and plop myself down in my well-worn chair and power up my shiny, new contraption.  Still, I think I'll wait awhile before I get a new phone.  Don't want to overload my circuits with too much new techy stuff to learn. 

Besides, these font files are keeping me busy... 

When my characters stop speaking to me...

I occupy my time by working on other book projects.  This week, it was redesigning the covers for the Hidden Springs series.  While I love the original versions, it was time for a makeover - a bit of freshening up, if you will.  After all, who doesn't love a new look now and then?

So, without further ado, I present to you the Hidden Springs series!!

Aren't they pretty?  I'm hoping new readers will think so too, and one-click one - or all - of them.  They're pretty great stories, or so I've heard!  Of course, I have an 'in' with the author!

Now that I can check this project off of my to-do list, it's time to get back to writing.  Hopefully, I can entice Finn and gang to come out and play, and crank out some words in my WIP.  Finn-agled is still on track to be released by the end of the year, so I'd better get to it!

For more information about Hidden Springs, or any of my books, please visit my website.

Now, back to my manuscript...

5 years...

Five years ago today, I sat down and began to write.  Eighteen days later, Here to Stay was born.  With the help of my friend and fellow author, Laramie Briscoe, the first novel in the Hidden Springs series made its debut two months later, and my life changed in ways I'd never imagined possible.

I've befriended people from around the country - and the world - who have since become family to me.  I've written seventeen stories and published fourteen books (Seasons of Love is a collection of four short stories).  I've attended author events in cities around the US that I otherwise would've never visited, and I've hosted two of my own.  I've expanded my vocabulary, brushed up on my punctuation and grammar skills (though I heartily recommend Grammarly as an additional tool), and photographed models for some of my covers.  I've counseled other authors in their moments of doubt and been blessed with the same from them during mine.  I've laughed, cried, and cursed; at times, swearing that I was never writing another word, only to turn around the next day and pound out four thousand of them on my keyboard.

I've received emails and messages from people who've cheered on my characters as they faced life's challenges; for a time, enjoying the escape from their own.  One reader (who's become a dear, dear friend) pestered me until I turned a stand-alone story, By Dawn's Early Light, into a trilogy because she wanted to read more about the town of Celebration and its inhabitants.  You're welcome, Barbara.

I've left my comfort zone in the dust and embraced new challenges (most of the time), have spoken up and asked for what I want; no longer afraid to hear the word 'no'.  I've grown as an author and as a person, and, most of the time, am proud of what I've accomplished.

Still, five years ago, when I envisioned what this day would look like, it wasn't this.  I've fallen short of almost every goal I've set for myself, sometimes due to personal reasons (surgery and the issues leading up to it sidelined me for close to a year) and sometimes due to my own lack of experience and motivation.  Sadly, time is the one thing I can't get back, and I've wasted more than my share over the past sixty months.  Wow, when I put it that way...

I'd like to say that I'll not waste a moment going forward, but I know that's not true.  I'll grow uninspired, frustrated, melancholy from time to time over lack of sales or missing a deadline and opt to binge watch a Netflix original rather than suck it up and write, but - and this is a very big but - I WILL NOT GIVE UP!!!  For better or worse, I'm an author.  Writing is in my blood.  It's in my breath and sweat and tears, and I'm going to achieve my version of success if it kills me!

So, here's to another five years.  Sixty months.  Two hundred and sixty point seven weeks (have to account for those extra 'leap year' days).  New goals.  New achievements.

Never giving up!