How to Sell Your Books: Four Takeways from BOWS

The third annual Business of Writing-Success conference was a smashing success for the 42 attendees at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art on October 11, 2014. 

One of the best features of BOWS is that it reaches out to presenters whom people wouldn’t normally associate with writing. After all, what does a voice coach or a sales trainer have to do with writing a book?

Quite a lot, as it turned out.

Each presenter provided something unique and valuable for writers who want to sell the books they have worked so hard to write. For example:

Takeaway #1: The Importance of the 30-Second Speech

Dan Compo, an actor and voice coach, lectured on the importance of creating a 30-second speech to present to anybody who wants to know what we do as writers. The 30-second speech answers four questions, Compo said: 

• What is your name? 
• What is your profession? 
• What have you recently done? 
• Where are you going?

But delivering a 30-second speech is not easy. “We seek authenticity in your performance,” Compo said of anyone who might be listening to the speech. “Being authentic is really difficult.”

Compo quoted famed acting coach Charles Conrad, who said, “Get the attention away from yourself. Focus on your listener, not on you.”

Takeaway #2: Setting Goals

Robin Wayne Bailey, best-selling author (he refuses to limit himself to the label of science fiction writer) of Frost and the Dragonkin trilogy, discussed the importance of having goals in writing. 

His goal, he said, is one every writer can identify with: to make money. “I’m not here to create art. I’ll let the public be the judge of that,” Bailey said. “I have to make you keep turning the page.”

Bailey said he has three goals for writers: 

• Write every day. 
• Finish everything you write. 
• Submit for publication everything you finish. 

He allowed that he may put aside a project for a while, but he always comes back to it. "I generally have five or six projects going at once," he said.

Although he acknowledged the importance of social media, Bailey cautioned writers not to get too caught up in promoting themselves. His rule is that if he spends one hour on the Web promoting his work, he must spend an hour doing what he calls “real writing.” 

“You must have product to sell,” he said.

Takeway # 3: Build a Following BEFORE You Write a Book

Deb Clem-Buckert, a parenting blogger who was a regular blogging contributor for The Kansas City Star, discussed the importance of building a brand and a following before searching for a book deal. 

“I was  very calculated in how I built my brand,” she said of her blog, which includes personal stories as well as recipes. Her blog reaches out to women who have similar experiences in parenting, yet Clem-Buckert established her own niche, since her child is a teenager. Other similar blogs, she said, are written by the parents of toddlers.

Clem-Buckert emphasized the importance of social media for writers. “You have to have the followers before you write the book,” she said.

Takeaway # 4: Learn to Sell Like a Used Car Salesman

Michael DeLong, an award-winning sales trainer, presented on one of the most unusual topics: how to sell your books like a used car salesman. “You’ve got to know how you appear to other people,” said DeLong, who recommended that authors videotape themselves before giving a pitch. 

He also said authors should get to know something about the person or publisher to whom they are pitching their books. “You know what the publisher can do for you,” he said, “but what can you do for them?”

However, DeLong also cautioned writers about being overconfident or cocky. “Don’t have on your mind the answer to the question before they ask it,” he advised.

  

That was just in the morning session. Four more presenters gave takeaways in the afternoon. If there is interest, I will present more in a future post. Meanwhile, start planning now to attend the next BOWS in 2015 so you can take away your own gold nuggets.

Why Writing Your Book is Not Enough (and What You Can Do About It)

The third annual Business of Writing - Success Workshop will be held this Saturday, October 11, from 10:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, MO.

The first BOWS inspired me to write one of my most successful posts on this blog, How to Succeed in the Business of Writing if you DON'T Live in the Kansas City Area. (It was a follow-up to another post with the rather bombastic title How to Succeed in the Business of Writing.)  In the follow-up post, I wrote about some of the wonderful pieces of advice I received from presenters at the first workshop.

That post quickly became my most visited post on the site, and, though it's since been eclipsed by other posts, it remains in my Top Five--a pretty impressive feat for a two-year-old post.

Such interest tells me that readers truly care about what it takes to succeed in the business of writing. As most of us probably know, it's not enough to write a wonderful book. You have to sell it. You have to understand concepts such as marketing and branding. You have to use social media to your advantage as an author. And you have to make nice with bookstore owners so they will carry your book.

BOWS has turned out to be a goldmine of advice from professionals of every stripe--publishers, lawyers, social media experts, and the like. BOWS isn't a workshop for writing--it's about what to do after you've written that book. If you don't possess this knowledge, the work you've poured your soul into will gather dust on your shelf (or on your hard drive) until it is thrown out by your survivors (or erased from your computer) after you die.

Don't let that happen to your story.

If you're in the Kansas City area on Saturday, come to BOWS. You'll be glad you did.

More information can be found here.

Who Was In My Weird Dream the Other Night

Over on the Legion World message board, one of the recurring threads is "Who the heck was in your weird dream last night?" People often post funny or bizarre dreams. The thread prompted me to post the following dream, which I had the morning after Robin Williams' apparent suicide.

I dreamed I ran into two guys I knew during my freshman year in high school.

I hung out with Randy and Jim between classes. I had known Randy since kindergarten and met Jim through Randy. They were both in ROTC; neither Rodney (the fourth guy who occasionally hung out with us) nor I were.

In high school, I had a lot of problems. I was the kid everyone picked on, or so it seemed. It got so bad that I stopped going to school. My mother (bless her) persuaded the school to send a teacher to our house (we lived only a block away) to drop off and collect my assignments. That's how I passed. The next year, I went to a different school.

Because I was taught (as was my mother) to be ashamed of any personal problems I was having, I never told Randy, Jim, or Rodney what was happening. I just disappeared from their lives. I was actually afraid of running into them in the town where we lived in case I'd have to explain what happened.

I saw Randy and Jim separately a couple of times afterwards. Randy worked in a local restaurant. Jim dated the sister of one of my brother's friends. Neither ever asked me what had happened. I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

In the dream, I was walking through a cobblestone path when someone called to me. It was Randy. He looked the same as he did then, with the same bowl-shaped haircut. Jim came and joined us; he looked older, with grey hair. I got a chance to explain to them what I wrote above, about what I was going through and why I disappeared from school. Both told me they didn't know I was being picked on and were hurt by my disappearance; I had no idea.

In the wake of Robin Williams' apparent suicide, it's easy to forget, when we are in pain, that we are not alone. One of the worst lies the world tells us is that no one will understand and that our friends will judge us if we admit our weaknesses. Such lies keep us from intimacy, keep us from the truth, and ultimately keep us from ourselves.

I last saw these guys around 1978, just about the time Williams was ascending to stardom in Mork & Mindy. It's amazing to think that Williams' life and mine are intertwined and that there may be some sort of spiritual cause and effect: his death may have inspired my dream in some way. In doing so, it unearthed a lot of buried feelings and thoughts.

There is nothing good about suicide. But one thing we human beings do is take the worst and grow something positive from it. Williams' death prompted at least one Facebook friend to admit that she had once tried to commit suicide. There has been an outpouring of grief and understanding from others (and, admittedly, the odd wacko theorist). This sort of openness is helpful and healing. It helps us make sense of who we are.

Thanks, Robin, for sharing your life and your amazing talent with us. And thank you, Randy, Jim, and Rodney, for being my friends, wherever you are.

Some Thoughts on Fame: Fleeting and Otherwise

Rushton Moreve and John Russell Morgan were the same person.

Who is Moreve/Morgan, you ask, and why should you care?

Unless you’re a fan of classic rock, the names mean nothing to you and there’s no particular reason why they should. Moreve had his brief moment of fame 46 years ago and then faded into obscurity. Today his legacy, such as it is, remains two-fold: creating the bass line which led to the writing of a psychedelic rock classic and the strange notion, perpetuated by rock encyclopedias, that he was two people.

For the record, Moreve was the original bassist of Steppenwolf—the leather-and-rock band best known for “Born to Be Wild.” He is also listed as co-writer of their other enduring hit, “Magic Carpet Ride,” for which he created that seminal bass line. He appears on the first two albums, Steppenwolf and The Second, both released in 1968, and then was fired from the band. 

According to VH1’s Behind the Music TV special, Moreve became convinced that the state of California, where the group was based, would suffer a massive earthquake and fall into the Pacific Ocean. He refused to return to California for a television appearance with the group and was sacked.

History, of course, has proved his dire prediction wrong: California survived, but Moreve’s promising career did not. He died in a motorcycle accident in 1981, at age 32.

As far as the name confusion goes, Wikipedia (which, we all know, can’t always be trusted except that sometimes it can) says John Russell Morgan was his real name. Why he changed it, I’m not sure. It could be that Steppenwolf’s other famous John—lead singer John Kay—did not want to confuse fans by having more than one John in the band. (Kay had earlier persuaded keyboard player John Goadsby to change his name to the more memorable Goldy McJohn).  

The real question is why do rock encyclopedias such as The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Rock (first edition, 1977) and VH1’s Music First Rock Stars Encyclopedia (1999) perpetuate the myth that Moreve and Morgan were two different people? Both claim that Morgan replaced Moreve.

(His actual replacement was Nick St. Nicholas, but that’s another strange story.)

So, why does any of this matter?

I think of Moreve and other obscure rock 'n' rollers from time to time when I think of what it means to be a writer and how becoming famous is all tied up into this idea that you can create something (a book, a screenplay, a poem, or a hit song) and part of you becomes immortal. Every time “Magic Carpet Ride” is played in a movie such as Apollo 13 or on commercials such as Miller Genuine Draft, a bit of Moreve lives on.

And one imagines that some compensation makes its way to Moreve’s survivors every time the song appears. Commercial creativity: the gift that keeps on giving.

But Moreve’s story also reminds me that fame is double-edged. It tosses its celebrities of the moment into the air and then slices them in two like a colorful scarf discarded by a carnival swordsman. To be sure, famous people sometimes make stupid mistakes—such as missing a gig because of an unfounded belief in earthquakes. But, more often than not, fame runs its course. The heroes of today must struggle harder and harder to compete for relevancy with the heroes of tomorrow.

(And, in some ways, Steppenwolf’s post-Moreve career typifies this struggle. Although the group recorded several albums in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, its popularity waned following the heady success of “Born to Be Wild” and “Magic Carpet Ride.” Today, Kay leads his own version of Steppenwolf without any other original members.)

Another point of view is that it’s better to have some fame—if fame is what you want—than none at all. To accomplish what you set out to do—publish a book or place a song on the charts—is a phenomenal achievement that comparatively few can match. It may not be true immortality, but it is something you can look back on with pride and say, “I did that.” 

And, decades later, you may find yourself mentioned in someone else's book, TV special, or blog.

Just make sure they know you're the same person.

A Writer's Thoughts on the Legion of Super-Heroes

Some recent threads on Facebook have been discussing various members of the Legion of Super-Heroes. In spite of several mishandlings and reboots over the last 20 years, the Legion maintains a large and devoted following--the envy of any writer who hopes to create a franchise or a series of popular characters. Even today, in the absence of an ongoing Legion comic book series, fans still like to discuss their favorite and not-so-favorite characters.

I found myself weighing in on some of the discussions, and in doing so, I learned a few things: 1) I still had a lot to say about the Legion, 2) even characters I didn't really care about provoked strong feelings in me and in others, and 3) as a writer, it was interesting to note what resonated with me and what didn't about each character.

Below are my thoughts on four Legionnaires:

Timber Wolf

All images and characters © and TM DC Comics, Inc.

Timber Wolf (Brin Londo) was kind of an "also ran" character I could never get a good handle on. 

My first exposure to him was Superboy # 197 (the cover displayed here), and he was by far the most dynamic looking Legionnaire of that time. The story also showcased him to great effect: he went from being brainwashed into trying to kill the president of earth to preventing Legion HQ from blowing up. 

After that, he just sort of faded into the background. I was never impressed with his super-agility, not on a team with Superboy, Mon-El, Lightning Lad, Phantom Girl, and other characters with far more interesting powers. Even Bouncing Boy's power was more imaginative. 

I finally warmed up to Brin when he became the lovable loser in the 1980s: getting dumped by his long-time lover, Light Lass, having a fling with the already married Saturn Girl, and becoming Blok's stooge. Brin tried hard to do the right thing, but he just didn't get "it" (whatever "it" was), something I could relate to. 

Then, in the Five Years Later period, he mutated into a creature known as "Furball" and I lost all interest and hope for him.

Princess Projectra

[On Princess Projectra’s tendency to get illnesses that rendered her comatose]: She did seem to get sick a lot during the early Superboy run. But I never disliked her for that reason or any other. 

Like Timber Wolf, she was an "also ran" character for whom I had no strong feelings for or against. The idea of her being an actual princess was just sort of there and didn't really play a huge role until the Karate Kid series, when we learned that Val (Karate Kid) had gone back to to 20th century to convince King Voxv he was worthy to marry Jeckie. 

Later, Voxv died, Jeckie inherited the throne, and she and Val married and retired from the Legion . . . a fitting and "happily ever after" ending, or so it should have been. 

Val's death during the Legion of Super-Villains war was wholly unnecessary (boo, writer/artist Keith Giffen!). Though Jeckie later returned to prominence as Sensor Girl, I would have preferred it if she and Val had remained happily in the background.

Thunder

To me, Thunder (CeCe Beck) is one of those "why not?" characters. Why not have a member of the Captain Marvel family join the Legion? Why not have someone from the future (the Legion's future, that is) come back in time and join the team? In this way, Thunder was sort of a reverse Superboy, who came from the past to join the Legion. 

Unfortunately, those are the only two things that stand out about her. I remember her more as a gimmick than a fully developed character. I don't think a lot of thought was put into her, and that's a shame. Since the Legion often reacts to quaint 20th and 21st century customs when they visit our era, it would have been fun if the boot had been on the other foot. ("What? You still use transuits in space? How old-fashioned.")

Blok

 

Power wise, Blok didn't seem to contribute much (super density? That's a power?) unless somebody fired energy beams at him. Mainly he was used just for super-strength. 

Personality wise, though, he added a lot to the team. He was the innocent outsider who reacted with curiosity to the Legion (and, therefore, enabled new readers to discover the team as he discovered it). He played straight man to Timber Wolf, providing comedy relief, and his relationship with the White Witch was touching: a platonic friendship that transcended boundaries such as race and physical attributes. 

In some ways, Blok in the '80s personified what the Legion was all about: an apparently useless power that still found worth, a positive and curious outlook on the future, and the ability to look beyond physical limitations to find value in others.

"False Alarm": A Power Club Short Story (Part 5)

[One more scene from the work in progress.]      

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

       The next day, the officer boarded the bus and briefly glanced at Denise, just as he did most of the other kids.  Denise allowed herself to breathe normally only after she was well away from the district.  There was no vision this time, neither when the officer came aboard nor when the bus passed the chalk white building.  In fact, there was no vision the next day, either.

            But the following Monday, Denise received a shock as she reached her usual seat on the bus.

            “Where’s Sheila?” she called around. Sheila always boarded the bus before Denise. She looked around to see if Sheila had decided to sit somewhere else, but she was nowhere to be found.

            “Where’s Sheila?” she repeated to Billy Underwood, who lived next door to Sheila in one of the lower-income neighborhoods in the district.

            Billy shrugged. “I dunno.  She wasn’t at the bus stop.  Maybe she overslept.”

            “Sheila wouldn’t oversleep.” Denise had stayed over at Sheila’s house several times and knew her friend always rose early--a trait that annoyed Denise because she often liked to sleep late.

            “Maybe she developed a power,” Billy offered with a smirk.

            Denise made a sound of disgust and took her seat.  Billy, as usual, was of no help. Denise knew it was normal for kids to miss school at times, but she couldn’t stop worrying about her friend.  She had a feeling, like sandpaper rubbing against the back of her heart, that Sheila was connected with the vision somehow.

            At recess, Denise found Sheila sitting at a curb at the edge of the playground.      

            “Why weren’t you on the bus today?” she shouted as she ran up to her friend, trying no to let on how worried she’d been.

            Sheila looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week.  “Mom took me to the doctor.  I’ve got a fever.”

            “Why didn’t you stay home?”

            “We can’t afford a sitter.”  Sheila coughed into a tissue.  “Mom said I’ll be all right if I stay away from other kids and don’t strain myself.”  Her voice was barely a croak.

            Denise watched some of the other girls running around the playground.  She longed to join them, but she didn’t want to leave her friend by herself.

            “It’s okay,” Sheila said, apparently guessing what Denise was thinking.  “I’m used to being alone.”

            Denise started to walk off, but something held her back.  It was as if she had some sort of feeling about Sheila.  The sandpaper feeling returned.

            Sheila  croaked, “Why do you keep staring at me?”

            Denise shrugged, figuring that if acting dumb worked for Billy Underwood, it might work for her.

             “Denise, you’re starting to bug me.  Like I said, just leave me alone.”

            “Well, all right,” Denise said in a huff.  She turned and jogged over to join some of the other girls climbing on the monkey bars, but a hacking cough from Sheila jolted Denise’s attention back.  It sounded like a cry for help.

            Sheila sat on the curb as if nothing were wrong and pulled a fresh tissue out of her sweater pocket. 

            Denise stared at her friends fingers and slowly walked back to her.

            “What is it now?” Sheila almost whispered.

            “What’s that on your fingers?”

            Sheila smiled.  “Like it?  My mom painted them last night.”  Sheila splayed her fingers, revealing five painted-on sunflowers.

            “Oh,” Denise said.  She didn’t mean to sound disappointed, but for a moment she expected to see something else.  “I mean, they’re great,” she said, trying to recover quickly.

            If Sheila noticed the awkward compliment, she didn’t let on.  “Mom painted her own nails the same way,” she prattled on.  “Except she painted butterflies instead.”