Anchor Babies

Stranded in the tiny berg of Cle Elum while waiting for a replacement catalytic heater for our truck, two days before Christmas, gave me time to read two books; Bossy Pants, Tina Fey, My Point…And I Do Have One, Ellen Degeneres.  Why do they make a joke out of everything, force funniness, I thought about the comedic formalistic tone of both authors.  Then it dawned on me.  Tina and Ellen are not really authors but comedians who write.   It is their life work to make a joke out of life.

Stuck in a small motel with a cat, dog and husband, all sharing one bed was not very funny.  We were though comforted by knowing our unanticipated calamity could have been worse.   We could have all ended up road kill on the snowy Snoqualmie Summit where the truck sputtered and died. Semi trucks the length of Manhattan screamed past close enough to part my hair.

After a long and expensive tow we were deposited at a motel with nothing more than us.  Luckily, I’d packed cat and dog food and managed to improvise a litter box for a cat born in Kuwait and now through the miracle of travel could pee freely in Eastern Washington gravel.  Aside from two books the only distraction was cable television.  On Comedy Central, the Colbert Report was listing new definitions included in the new American Heritage Dictionary.  Anchor Babies, was included.

“Did you hear that?”  I asked my husband who is hard of hearing.  He nodded.  The dog looked up and the cat just slept, undisturbed as I jolted upright.

When I referred to anchor babies (p. 195) in Suitcase, I thought it might, like other pontifications in my book, be construed as offensive.  Now, according to one comedian, the term is fully defined in a respected reference book. Or is this just another joke?

http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2011/12/09/revised-definition-anchor-baby-part-leftist-agenda-critics-say/

That's the Spirit

I’m going to get off the rag about this self, myself, vanity, in vane, independent, dependent, publishing swill.  It’s Christmastime after all.  This is the point I want to briefly rag on.

 I am actually able to walk fast (four months after a total hip replacement…another rag) with members of my running group who no longer can run because of hip and knee issues. 

We walk faster than most people can think, let alone can run. 

In December, at 7 am. we huff along  the waterfront trail. Moon light winks on waves, seagulls scream, and fast walking ladies and their dogs leave steam puffs in their wake.  My little dog Henry wears an orange, reflective jacket and is not let off leash until there is enough daylight to see his little cat-sized body before it might be swooped upwards into the evergreens by wide-eyed owls.

My fast walking, talking companions muse on family gatherings, kids, grand kids, a banana split of people they will gift, feed and house over the holidays.  Quite honestly I am left out of the conversation.  There is nothing I have to add except, “Being an orphan with no family means I don’t buy, wrap or rapp.”  There is a short pause and their conversation continues.

I listen.  I think.  I listen.  My thinking grows darker as the sun rises.  I think I feel what a recovering alcoholic would feel at a party where everyone else was drinking, laughing and sharing good will, and, I am standing in a corner with an empty glass. It’s not like I can’t imbibe.  It’s just that this holiday spirit stuff seems like swill because my cup leaked empty a long time ago.

Late afternoon I take Henry to the beach down town.  The sun is setting on a picture postcard day- Mount Rainer a warm icy glow beyond the frigid bay, the community Christmas tree blinking, a doctor in a dark brown fedora walks by, his silhouette contrasts the sails of a boat flapping off-shore.  I also see a rag-tag gathering of people with back packs gathering outside a red brick building.  Gritty duct tape holds together a grimy orange parka one woman wears.  She also wears a bright red and white Santa hat.  The people around her point to her head smile and laugh as they wait for the doors of the homeless shelter to open.   

Reviews That Loose: Give me a little Nookie

“Out of this world”  Dean Koontz

“Scary Good”  Stephen King

“Worth Killing for” James Patterson

“I could burst into song” Jane Lynch

No, these praise-worthy blurbs were not penned  for Suitcase Filled with Nails, a tangible piece of writing, words inked on paper pages and set between slick cardboard covers.

These literary notaries and those of notoriety are praising a piece of plastic.  In particular, a Nook Tablet.  Their blurbs published in print on a full page ad in the New York Times Book Review.  Another interesting twist in the publishing paradigm…an ethereal one.  

No Hypocrites

On my second cup of coffee, I am still trying to face the day, slicing open a new box of books to sell at the last day of this weekend Arts and Crafts.  It is 7 am, the sun is rising and the phone in my office starts ringing.

True to her word, Susan Jane Gillman is telephoning from Geneva, Switzerland where the sun is setting on the dawning cocktail hour.  She has called to tell me how much she likes Suitcase Filled with Nails.  We talk for an hour.  She talks like the words she writes in her best selling books…honestly, no-holds barred, ballsy, politically aware and politically incorrect if she wants to make a point, or mock a point. 

The point, and I must be so in-your-face about this again, is she likes my book.  It is I who should be bowing before the master (mistress).  She is the author of New York Times best sellers not me… Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress,  Kiss My Tiara: How to Rule the World as a SmartMouth Goddes, and Undress me in the Temple of Heaven.

My first summer home (2005) after teaching in Kuwait, I serendipitously selected Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress, from the shelves of our town’s highly revered Carnegie Library.  I’d never heard of Susan Jane Gilman before and judged the book by its cover – a pouting girl in a pouffy white dress.  Check it out of your own library or buy it…for the full story.

One passage from Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress wedged within my withering brain matter (I’ll toast to that).  I would remember it again and again as the going got rough, those six years in Kuwait where I learned to duck and cover, stave off  back stabs and deliberate frontal attacks in an office warfare I wanted no part of.  Susan sums it up better.

     Had I been more experienced in office warfare, I might have strategized cunning ways to defend myself and retaliate.

     A horrendous job is like a chronic illness, a rotting tooth. It infects everything in your life: your world constricts and collapses into the toxic, throbbing ache of it. You can’t go into a café, walk your dog, or go away for a weekend without a constant, low-grade sense of dread.    (excerpted from  Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress and included, HONEST TO  god with PERMISSION  in Suitcase Filled with Nails).

I’ve sipped my second cup of coffee dry while talking to Susan.  Coyotes cry in the background as the moon sinks and the sun slinks higher, mustering enough sweat to warm away a Pacific Northwest cloud cover.   Susan says Suitcase Filled with Nails reminded her of experiences she wrote about in Undress me in the Temple of Heaven.  “Had I read it?”

Of course.  After I had written Suitcase Filled with Nails.

By the time we hang up the sun has set in Switzerland and it is sunny in Seattle.  Among other dichotomies and similarities we shared we identified with what it was like to be in a country where you had no rights and were subject to the whims of a not so whimsical government.  We are not alone in our observations and lived experiences.

Cha-Ching!

The only thing I like about crafts fairs is attending them, because the first and last one I displayed at over 25 years ago left me deeply scarred, rejection gashed into my self esteem.  All day long people walked right past my display of original oil paintings, a gem of a display, within the jungle of bobbles tuned out in neighboring booths.  The cha-ching of sales rung up by hawkers of pot holders and beach glass earrings –only empty sighs registered from my booth

When I was invited to sell my books at a large and well know crafts fair this weekend my immediate reaction was No Way, will I ever again subject myself to such humiliations. Besides, serious things like books aren’t what people are looking for among the knitted hats, jars of pickled garlic, turned bowls, hammered copper salmon, and goat soap.  I accepted the invitation because it came from a good friend and great humanitarian who originated and still manages this fair 25 years later.  

I packed along 15 books thinking I might be lucky to sell two.  I sold out long before the fair closed for the day and went home buoyed by this little success and the connections made with the people who bought my book.

Later, in my office littered with a new mess of checks and cash, I found my email contained greater richness.  The subject was Oh… from a Susan Gilman.

Ms. Wakefield,

You owe me two night's sleep.

Why? Because I received your glorious book on Thursday and I COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN.  I LOVED it.  I stayed up until 2 a.m. this morning finishing it, and then I actually dreamed about it, too.  It's a TERRIFIC read, and please know that I don't say that lightly.

I have praises to heap and questions to ask.  That said, since I live my life in front of a damn computer writing all day, I prefer real human voices to email correspondence. And so, be forewarned. I may try to call you this weekend, the 9-hour time difference between us notwithstanding.

If I can't reach you, you'll get the bombardment electronically. But know that your book -- and your story -- are remarkable.

Thank you for including my own work in yours.

With effusiveness & admiration,
Susan Jane Gilman

What?   You do not know about Susan Jane Gilman, this smack in-your-face-wit of a crafty writer?  Blog on…

First Christmas in Kuwait

After a lot of stumbling blindly about and choppy surfing, I discovered several blogs on women expatriates.  One in particular runs regular first person accounts on living abroad.

Expatwomen, accepted an excerpt from Suitcase Filled with Nails.  I simply cut out a relevant chunk from the book, titled it My First Christmas in Kuwait, and within 24 hours the excerpt was approved and posted on this blog below…….

http://www.expatwomen.com/expat-women-your-stories.php

The Rape of Kuwait

This is Ripe!

On page 8 of Suitcase Filled with Nails, I mention the only book I could find on Kuwait, prior to moving there was The Rape of Kuwait, written by Jean Sasson.  It was written and published in 1990 just as Iraq invaded Kuwait. During my stint there, I heard rumors that The Rape of Kuwait was commissioned and paid for by the Kuwaiti government as part of a marketing plan to publicize their plight.  Those rumors appear to be substantiated in a few paragraphs of the article below.

Arthur E. Rowse, Progressive; May91, FLACKING FOR THE EMIR Vol. 55

Issue 5, p20, 3p

Another major success racked up by Citizens for a Free Kuwait was The Rape of Kuwait, a quickie 154-page paperback by Jean Sasson about Iraqi atrocities. The publisher, Knightsbridge Publishing Company, a small firm in New York City, hit the stands with a first printing of 1.2 million shortly before the war began, advertising the book heavily on television and in newspapers.

Knightsbridge representatives firmly deny that the book was subsidized, and Mankiewicz says H&K {publicists} "had nothing to do with it." But the Kuwaiti embassy acknowledges that it purchased 20,000 copies of the book to send to American troops, and Citizens for a Free Kuwait somehow obtained enough copies to include it in thousands of information kits prepared by Hill & Knowlton for public distribution.

Though quickie paperbacks rarely receive such treatment, The Rape of Kuwait was featured in serious discussions on morning TV talk shows and received respectful reviews in such outlets as The Wall Street Journal. As a result, the book soon made its way onto best-seller lists and into a second printing.

The tattered copy I checked out of the local library in 2003, to prep me for my trip to Kuwait, was riddled with typos.  Maybe this was the first printing, dashed out on command. Doesn’t this take self-publishing to a new level?  

This is the picture Lois took of me at her Gallery, Wynwoods.  I am showing off her marvelous crystal bead necklace

ption

Wynnwoods Gallery Book Signing

Lois Venarchick owner of Wynnwoods Gallery took this photo

Book Signings/Readings

Started the weekend signing books at Wynwoods Gallery.  Friends, some long lost, stopped by my little table in front of the shop.  The next day, I read and signed copies at Max Grover Gallery.  It was my first public reading and I appropriately started with the church scene. Even though no one in the audience was even a lapsed Catholic, they all knew where the church I wrote about stands.

Cat Got My Tongue

I gave a live radio interview this afternoon on Suitcase Filled with Nails.  Like many interviews of past, on my Kuwait experience, I found myself on the defense and with my tongue caught by some mental cat clawing at my ability to speak concisely and intelligently.

During this interview, like many involving Kuwait, I am asked questions about a culture, politics and religion in which I lived, tried to abide by and out of respect, respect.  Normally, I never speak with suave, detached intelligence, because I am not a diplomat or a politician.   I’m really kind of an off-the-cuff, over-the-shoulder, thin-skinned, blabber mouth.  So, lobbying words put into my mouth during a blind interview only makes that cat curl tighter around my tongue.

I’ve either got to put a leash on my tongue or unleash the cat.

Expat Women Take Note

Wish I’d known about this blog when working abroad.

http://www.expatwomen.com

Kissin' Cousins

While surfing for a pro-Muslim web site which might be in the position to review Suitcase Filled with Nails,” I stumbled upon Jihad Watch, and I don’t think it is the kind of site I was looking for.  Interesting though.

JIHAD WATCH.

Denmark: Muslim cousin marriages fills schools for retarded

“Cousin marriages has negative impact on intelligence, sanity, health and society. In Pakistan, 70 percent of all marriages are between first cousins (so-called "consanguinity") and in Turkey the amount is between 25-30 percent. Across the Arab world today an average of 45 percent (in some parts up to 70 percent) of married couples are related.

This phenomenon is allowed for by Islam's marriage law, which is delineated in Qur'an 4:23-34, making this something for which Sharia opens the door.

The lowered intelligence, psychiatric diseases and low status that result from handicaps that afflict many Muslim children as a result of inbreeding may increase the chances of luring people into becoming suicide bombers.”

Doesn’t this just automatically make you think of the Underwear Bomber?  And, the word retarded.  The Underwear Bomber will get his come-uppance for sure.  But the author of  “Denmark: Muslim Cousins Fill schools for Retarded,” will go Scott free.  Even though the author may have his statistics correct, ‘retarded.’ is just plain politically explosive. Maybe that was the author’s plan.

In Kuwait, I taught developmentally challenged students, the off -spring of first cousin marriages.  I attended the marriages of many friends who married her first cousin.  I don’t know how their kids will come out, or even if, the statistics cited by the author of the article above, will factor into their lives.   

I’ll just keep searching for other sites to support my platform and there are lots out there like the Middle East Forum, interesting, but still not quite what I was looking for.  In the mean time Suitcase Filled with Nails made the front page of EEK! Expats e-Mag Kuwait

Attachments

EEK! Issue #3, November 2011

Scroll down a few pages for excerpts.  It’s a nice sight.

You’re So Vain

 

Last week, I slogged through rain squalls, boarded a ferry boat and witnessed from the snug bow, a sea lion thrashing about, fish in mouth, run over and returned from whence it came, in the ferry prop wash.  Seriously, I am not kidding.  It’s not like an omen or anything, just another misfortune of traveling to a fro from the Olympic Peninsula.

 

I would drive the length of Whidbey Island, cross Deception Pass Bridge, my destination Skagit Valley, to attend a writer’s workshop.  There I met some publicists and inquired about their services.

 

I was told Suitcase Filled with Nails, would likely never be reviewed by the mainstream because it was published by a Vanity press, which immediately prompted me to zing off an email, subject line: ARGHHHHHHHHHH, to Randy, my publisher.  To which Randy replied with: ARGHHHHHHHHHH, and his reply containing the following albeit, some editing on my part.  My interjections are in italics.

 

“Unfortunately their brain is clearly stuck somewhere in the 20th century. I’m afraid most of their peers are, too. If  Authorcloud (AC) were a vanity press, you'd be out by about 30 grand by now (I paid AC $500 for cover and page design, ISBN, and liaising with printers & binders, and $300 for paperback and ebook cover design) and I would not be patiently cajoling booksellers to order the book, etc. etc. etc.  'Vanity presses' don't do this sort of thing.”

 

He continues.

 

“The old publishing paradigm is rapidly fading, I’ll use my own book,  MAN UP In Ten Lessons, which I am poised to publish as an extreme example -- the very definition of 'vanity' publishing! But wait a minute: I AM a publisher, with over three decades of work in the traditional trenches to prove it.”

 

He adds.

 

“As I recall, Bennett Cerf's works were published by Random House, back in the day. And who was a founder of Random House? Oh, that's right, Bennett Cerf. Who also published everyone from Faulkner to Rand. So, did the media refuse to review his own (wildly best-selling) works because they were published by his own company?

 

"At the end of the day (and 'the day' is ending very, very quickly), people in the trade are going to have to start to pay attention to works published by 'atraditional' houses, or they are going to be left far, far behind. The sad fact is, the vast majority of writers published today by traditional publishers are poorly served, on multiple levels.”

 

He kind of concludes.

 

“Similarly, if authors choose a publishing model that allows them to move forward with a project that would otherwise either not happen at all, or take close to forever (I spent four months sending out 135 queries and proposals to agents, publishers, all who agreed my story was timely but they just weren’t in the market for my type of book.) why is that automatically a "bad thing?"  Do publicists and media really believe that because a book has been published by a traditional publisher, it's going to be "good," that it's automatically worthy of a review, that the public is going to both want to hear about it and its author, then rush out to buy it? And conversely, that if a book is published by anyone other than a traditional house, it's beneath contempt?"

 

 

Yesterday I took the ferry boat to Seattle (no sea lions were observed being minced to pieces on this crossing). Judging by all the unsold books written by celebrities, I saw on the shelves of bookstores I visited to drop off copies of Suitcase, Randy may have a point.  Whether, I’m providing a platform for his publishing  passion is not the point.  The point is, even if Suitcase Filled with Nails, had been picked up by a traditional publisher, it could still take as long as three years to get it in print.  At least, that’s what the one publisher who actually made an appointment to see me, said before declining to publish my timely book.

 

It’s all about traditionally published books written in vain - overshadowing good books that have been published by atraditional press.  Getting published by the old guard is too much about who you are, who you know, not how well you write about what you know.

 

I mean, Ellen Degeneres could write, “My hair is highlighted and I wear high top sneakers.”  Paste this sentence between two covers, and I bet your britches, it would be picked up and promoted by a traditional publisher.  Seriously, I am not kidding.

 

Night Owl

Last night Henry, my little dog, took me out for one last pee (his) before going to bed.  He was a foot away from me in the backyard when the back of my hair flashed up in a sudden burst of wind.  I screamed.  Henry barked.  Both exclamations making their point because the owl which mistook my Chorkie for a rabbit, broke his dive and angled up and away from his prey, shot past the web of madrona and pine, smack into a full moon.

As with the night owl, I am bombarded out of the blue by emails on how to promote Suitcase Filled with Nails,- because I subscribe to blogs or newsletters, with free information that always leads to wanting me to purchase a service or product.

In the morning after the owl encounter, as Henry curled in his bed and I turned on the computer, there are four of these emails which  promise to help me:

• Reach the journalists and bloggers who matter through our 1.4 million–record database
• Engage the public directly through social media and easy online content
• Track and record every interaction, tweet, email, news release and media mention
• Analyze  results with quick and easy reporting

·        Boost my brand by starring in a professionally
produced video series

·        Create  editorial calendars :a master, specific event and spread sheet

·        Build my platform

·        Create a SEO (whatever that is)

·        Generate a bazillion tweets

By late afternoon, at least four more emails from various companies all promise to help me with some form of above.  One of these stood out from the others in its direct simplicity, Drew Gerber’s   askdrew@publicityresults.com  It’s worth a look.

At this point my platform is one simple book.  My calendar cost a $5 donation to the SPCA.  Pictures of puppies and kitties are posted above calendar cells inked with interviews, readings, and signings.

An owl hoots in the madrona now silhouetted by a rising moon.  It is time to turn off the computer and walk the dog on a short leash.

To Amazon or Not to Amazon: That is the Question

If my web mistress Heather thinks Paypal is the best thing since sliced bread.  I believe, my publisher Randy thinks Amazon is the blight of the literary famine.  He is not alone with his thoughts.

In the last week I’ve approached six different books stores about doing a reading/signing.  Half were and half were not receptive to a reading/signing but on the whole each book store was interested in carrying Suitcase.

Each time I mentioned Suitcase could be ordered through Amazon I was met with hostility.  “We do not order anything through Amazon,” one shop owner said.  One bookstore owner even refused to look up my book on Amazon.  Another said “You make it hard for independent bookstores to order your book.” I liked Amazon and thought everyone liked Amazon.  So I asked Randy Morse, authorcloud publisher for his two cents.  He gave me more than I bargained for.

Independent bookstores don’t like Amazon because… THEY SEE AMAZON LEADING THE CHARGE AWAY FROM BRICKS & MORTAR TO ONLINE BOOKSELLING. AN INDEPENDENT BUYING FROM AMAZON GETS A DOUBLE-WHAMMY: THEY RECEIVE A LOWER DISCOUNT THAN THEY WOULD IF THEY PURCHASED DIRECTLY FROM MOST PUBLISHERS, AND THEY'RE ESSENTIALLY HELPING FINANCE THEIR BIGGEST COMPETITOR. AMAZON IS NOW BY FAR THE WORLD'S LARGEST SELLER OF PHYSICAL BOOKS, AND ARE CERTAINLY ONE OF, IF NOT THE LARGEST SELLER OF EBOOKS AS WELL.

Since Randy answered this part of my email question in all caps I think it was to emphasize this point.  He also added, but in upper and lower case, “As  Amazon begins to behave more and more as a publisher (first CreateSpace, now "Amazon Publishing") as well as bookseller as well as printer (Lightning Source),”  they begin to create a “good ol' fashioned monopoly.”

This is why, as stated in the second paragraph of my last blog, the company I registered, Pomegranate Productions, will sell and ship only (in the U.S. only, personally signed or not) the book version of Suitcase.  The publisher, authorcloud will sell ebooks and ship books to anyplace in the world.  While the other afore mentioned will (at this point) sell only ebooks.   I think this arrangement will make everyone happy.

PayPal and Me

Heather, my website mistress, exclaimed “PayPal is the best thing since sliced bread.  I love it!”  She said this early in the morning as we set up a PayPal account to link to my website to sell Suitcase, through my new business, Pomegranate Productions which is listed along with authorcloud, Amazon, Barnes & Nobel, Sony Reader and Ibook.

         

By early afternoon Heather’s love of PayPal hadn’t wavered but her patience had.  Trying to make sense of the ordering business meant finding the right ordering button (check out cart, buy now, order now) and writing a definitive direction for each link.  Pomegranate Productions my company, will sell and ship only (in the U.S. only, personally signed or not) the book version of Suitcase.  The publisher, authorcloud will sell ebooks and ship books to anyplace in the world.  While the other afore mentioned will (at this point) sell only ebooks.

How to arrange all this information on a graphically pleasing, and comprehensible website page had both me and Heather hunch-backed, blurry eyed and brain dead by early afternoon.  TMI, and too many different directions, instructions, obstacles and dead ends.  We could not link to ibooks because neither of us own ipads.  Ironic.   I told my friends Suitcase was available through the afore mentioned, and my friends with ipads relayed they had purchased Suitcase.  When I went on line to see how this worked I could not access iBooks, because I do not own an iBook which you must own to have an iBook account in order to purchase Suitcase though iBooks.

I still write thank you cards by hand and mail them through the postal service.  I have a vast library of books because I only buy books. All of my three published books were first written in sloppy cursive on errant pieces of paper and in spiral notebooks.  So, this ebook, ibook stuff has me buggered.

After Heather had gone home to feed the chickens and I went on a long walk, with my short dog, I returned to my office, opened an email from Shelly Hitz, a self-publishing coach, which included this factoid:

“Amazon sold 22 million Kindles in the first half of 2010 with Kindle book sales outpaced hardcover books sales.  And the numbers continue to increase for ebook sales.”

It’s a fact of my literary life in need of an upgrade.  And I still haven’t got a handle on PayPal.

Humbling

When I was a really young (i.e. not even old enough to legally purchase alcohol) journalism student in a community college, my journalism instructor wrote a book. It was self-published under his own imprint.  After the book was printed and he began distribution, he would advise his students, “When you write your first book promote it first locally".

Beyond the five W’s - who what where when and why - all rolled into a 21 word lead, and the bit about self promotion, I’ve forgotten whatever else he taught me about journalism.

I regret the name of the publisher imprinted on the spine of the first two books I had published by Shameless Hussy Press.  Despite the rather unsettling name, Shameless Hussy did publish my books and arranged for book jacket blurbs, reviews book signings and interviews.   Now, with Suitcase Filled with Nails, published also by a not-so traditional publisher, but with a name I don’t mind having imprinted on the spine of the book; the work of getting it out there is in my hands and I find it a humbling experience, this shameless quest of self-promotion.

I began promoting Suitcase in my own backyard, as did my long-forgotten journalism teacher with his book.  Before I even started this humbling task, I was offered two opportunities by just mentioning I finished writing a book.  One is in the foyer of the local bead-shop/art gallery and scheduled on the monthly gallery walk night.  The other is in the high school gymnasium at the annual holiday crafts fair.  Neither venues are high-profile, but each are heavily trafficked and will put me and my book before the public eye and I am appreciative of the invitations. 

Then I approached my first bookstore, browsing the shelves and even asking if a certain title was in stock (it wasn't) before asking if I could do a reading/signing there.

           

“No,” we haven’t done author signings for three years.  Maybe only two or three people would show up.  It was time consuming doing all the publicity and embarrassing for the author,” said the owner of the shop who was,  "retiring soon.”

The regional library was very supportive and set me up with a 4-5:30 pm. signing. I would do all the publicity.  Buoyed by their generosity I approached my local library.  I was told the woman in charge was gone that day but would call me back the next day.  She did not.  Days went by and I called again.  She was not in.  I left a message.  Days went by.  I called again.  She was in.  Maybe in March I could schedule a reading.  Call back in February.  Same with the local book store.  They were booked through March.  Call back in five months.

Elliot Bay Bookstore in Seattle and Eagle Harbor Books on Bainbridge were more receptive.  As soon as I provide them with a copy of Suitcase they would get back to me about scheduling a reading/signing. These two inquiries were conducted over the phone.  I stood up while talking to project and air of professionalism.

Two days before Halloween I approach another out of town bookstore.  Like the first bookstore, I peruse the shelves.  After a bit I approach the woman at the check out counter, first making sure no customers were expected, and ask, a bit nervously “Who is in charge of scheduling book readings and signings?"   That would be the owner and she was not in.  The checkout woman handed me a terms of author book sales agreement and the owner’s business card. 

Everyone of the four book stores so far contacted said they would not order books from Amazon.com and would, if they decided to stock Suitcase, take books on consignment from me at the industry standard of 40% bookstore 60% author.

By Halloween night  hard copies of Suitcase are still at the printers, but it had been uploaded to iBooks and Amazon.  Priced at $4.99, I know already two copies have been sold because of postings (positive) on Facebook.  This is encouraging.  I only have 998,000 more copies to go before reaching my goal.

Why I Don't Need a Publicist

I was lamenting to a friend over my frustrations with mucking around in the social networking swamp and trying to network with the right sites in order to get Suitcase Filled with Nails, reviewed.  “I really need a publicist to do all this for me,” I moaned.

“No,” she said adamantly, “You don’t need a publicist to help you with social networking.  You need a 15 year-old to help you.

Why I Need a Publicist

 At some point along the evolutionary line - at the B.C. point - (Before Computers), I worked as a publicist.  Back in the dark ages when press releases were typed on your manual Olivetti and handed or air mailed to an editor who had the piece typeset, printed and pasted onto dummies sent to the printers.  Maybe the piece made it to print or was picked up by radio and television. 

Along evolutionary line of technology, I chose as much as possible to stay in the dark, preferring to paint, draw, and read real books, rather than to engage in these endeavors on a computer.  As a result, I get pretty stuck in the technological web surrounding the promotion of Suitcase Filled with Nails.

I still find email amazing.  Although I’m on it, through the help of a 15 year-old boy who’s on Facebook 24/7, I still don’t understand Facebook. Yet all the cutting edge agents (who ignored my book) swear every author needs to be on Facebook and Twitter at least, along with owning a website and blogging,  Whew!   Talk about screen time. 

I already had a website, yvonnepepinwakefield.com.  I signed into the social media swamp where I spend lost hours trying to muck myself out of failed uploads, down loads, reloads,  information access crucial to marketing Suitcase Filled with Nails.  This is why I need a publicist, someone with techno savvy, someone who knows how to wade through and around the swamp.

The mother of the 15 year-old, did though help me set up my blog, suitcasefilledwithnailsauthorcloud which lead me to read other blogs, like the one I found on a Linkedin update and read because it was posted by Nina Amir, an editor of Suitcase.

Nina is a professional editor, proposal consultant and writing, blogging and book coach as well as the author of the forthcoming book, How to Blog a Book, How to Write, Publish and Promote Your Work One Post at a Time (Writer's Digest Books April 2012), (http://www.writenonfictionnow.com)  Through Nina’s blog I stumbled upon How to Get Your Book Reviewed,  a site promoting a  book by Dana Lynn Smith addressing ways to gain publicity in today’s techno market.  The book is available in PDF, Kindle, Nook and paperback. 

I went on-line (these days I’m rarely off-line).  I tried to order the paperback because I’ve developed a chronic case of screenitist, and one more dose of a screen would do me in.  Only the same credit card I’ve used on Amazon before wouldn’t take and after twenty minutes of trying to get it to take, I took the dog for walk instead. 

I spend more time getting lost in the muck and meeting dead ends on the computer than I do goals.  The dog is well walked.

Just Who Will Your Book PO?

You Know Your Book is Ready to Publish when You Know it’s going to P0 friends, family and anyone with differing opinions.  I’d heard this said by an author a few months ago, before I was ready to publish Suitcase Filled with Nails.   At that time I was afraid my book could offend friends (whom I disguised in the book), and of course anyone with a hyper reactive streak, when it comes to even mentioning religion, even a positive light (Suitcase does in a minor, light-hearted way).  But, I never considered my book might P O my family.  Really.  Because, beside my husband, my family consists of relatives in the Midwest, some of them very, very, very Catholic relatives.

One of these relatives responded to the Facebook or the Linkedin posting, I posted a few days ago, announcing the forthcoming publication of Suitcase Filled with Nails. My cousin said he would suggest it to his book group, I thought at first Swell.  Then I thought of his mother who is my aunt and if you even whisper God, even in a light-hearted flippant way, around her, she will wash your mouth out with soap.  And since I allude to my position in the Catholic Church in colorful ways, I’m starting to feel like Suitcase, could, along with other religious extremists enjoying the warmth of the Middle East, also PO this aunt in the cold Mid-west.  I do so much more prefer the minty taste of Crest than Bon Ami on a toothbrush.

Social Networking Pays Off in Strange Ways

Social Networking pays off in strange ways.  I’m a Luddite when it comes to computers but managed to finally upload a forthcoming publication announcement for Suitcase Filled with Nails,  on Facebook and Linkedin.  Within minutes I received responses from around the world from friends who WANT TO BUY A SIGNED COPY of Suitcase Filled with Nails.  I think it will be cheaper for my friends in the UK, Dubai, Egypt, Kuwait, and beyond to buy the ebook version at $4.95, than to ship a signed copy over seas.

Yet, one unexpected reference to Suitcase Filled with Nails, is in the email below which I am sharing as requested by Paul D Kennedy, author of The Lid is Lifted.

Dear Yvonne

The Lid is Lifted

I was one of the Westerners trapped in the centre of Kuwait city when the Iraqi army invaded on the 2nd August 1990. I witnessed first-hand the appalling human rights abuses that took place (indeed I was a victim in one brutal case), as well as looting on an industrial scale and the contradictory reactions of scared and desperate men.
Written as narrative non-fiction, The Lid is Lifted uses terse language to describe the feelings of extreme fear and almost uncontrollable anger we all experienced at that time.
You can find out more about this exciting story (with short samples from the book) at: www.kuwait1990.com or you can have a free read of the first few chapters at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005O302T2.
The Lid is Lifted also details how a few expatriates betrayed friendships in order to ensure their own safety and several embarrassing facts about the behaviour of the foreign embassies in Kuwait during the few times we interacted with them.
Have you ever wondered what REALLY caused Saddam to invade? I had excellent connections at the highest levels in Kuwait who kept me well informed of what was happening and why, so you can find out in this book
The Lid is Lifted is the true story of what happened in Kuwait during August 1990. Though every word is true, I have written it in the style of a novel so you too can experience what it was like during the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait.
You can find out more about The Lid is Lifted at: www.kuwait1990.com.
Or you can buy this exciting 250-page book directly from Amazon for less than US$5 at: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005O302T2.
Please pass this email on: Even if you are not interested in what happened in Kuwait in August 1990, over 20 years ago, perhaps you have friends who would like to read The Lid is Lifted. I would appreciate it very much if you would pass this email on … and your friends may be grateful to you.
Thank you for reading this email and I hope you enjoy my book.
Yours sincerely

PAUL D KENNEDY

The Jacket Blurbs: Suitcase Filled with Nails

“An eye-opening look under the veil of young Muslim
women that allows readers to see how similar they are
to young women everywhere… a realistic, and
sometimes frightening, view of what one can expect if
you live and work in the Middle East.” Nina Amir,
author of How to Blog a Book: Write, Publish and
Promote Your Work One Post at a Time

“This ‘innocent abroad,’ tells her story with vivid language, living
metaphor, and above all, great story-telling skill.” Judith Roche,
author of First Fish, First People and Wisdom of the Body

This is my blog on publishing my book Suitcase Filled with Nails :Lessons Learned from Teaching Art in Kuwait.

It took six years to write the book.  Actually, it took six years of living the book before I sat down and actually started piecing my notes into a book. When I left Kuwait,  for good in June 2010 I had over 800 pages of copy and five dog-eared files of newspaper and magazine clippings.  I also had the goal of trying to condense all this material into a story of my six years in Kuwait teaching studio art to Muslim women and treading a misogynistic minefield.  The first draft was 600 pages long, mostly whinny rambling.

It took seven months of writing-writing on average six to eight hours a day-pecking out maybe 30 versions before I sent 300 pages to a copy editor.

In December 2010 I received a bill for $2000 and my manuscript sans most misspellings, inactive verbs and dangling participles. Suitcase was so ready, so timely, so unique, agents and publishers would snap it up-I was so sure.

 I spent the next two months, sending out queries to 135 agents and publishers.  My office was papered in 24”x24” sheets of printing paper, inked with the date of submission, to whom the query was sent to, when it was replied to (if I ever received a reply) and marked as to whether they wanted the first five, fifty or all the pages of my manuscript.   In orange ink I would mark their response.  Next to one agent’s name and because of her response I wrote in red ink - Paranoid, crack-head, narcissistic vole.

By February paper covered two walls of my office.  The requests for my book just about balanced the thanks we’re not interested rejections.  Still, none of the please send outline, proposal, sample chapter, pages, a urine test, your first born, ever produced a Yes, I’ll represent your manuscript.  Everyone had their reason.  Anyone reading this has probably heard them all.

That same February I went to the San Francisco Writer’s Conference to meet with some of the agents who had my manuscript.  I figured getting up close and personal might enhance my chances of representation.  After having met some of the agents who had my manuscript I walked away with one impression of an agent resembling a burrowing animal.

I also came away with the business cards of six new agents who wanted to see my manuscript.  After submitting Suitcase  and after waiting weeks and months, alas their responses agreed with the other 135 agents and publishers…good story, just not for us.

Back to the computer, and a new editor who reviewed Suitcase, advised on where the story arced and didn’t arc.   Back to the computer, re-write, re-write…  Another bill for editorial services $2500, back to the computer to write arcs…I am losing hope and my chiseled abs as they melt into blobs of inactivity over the waist band of my pants.  I am developing Dunlaps Disease… my stomach done laps over my pants.

I am also losing hope.  But, I have already said that.

I have a story.  It is good (I think).  It is timely.  It needs to be told.  And, it will be, because I quit fooling around and found an editor whose niche is Pacific Northwest authors, AuthorCloud, and it's my hope this will begin a productive and honest working relationship.  So far it has been.

The Cover of my New Book.  Look for it soon!!!!