Monday, February 06, 2012

Waffling

waffles

Lately I have been waffling a lot. Like… if they had an Olympic Wafflers Team I’d captain that sucker. But it isn’t so much my own indecision as a fear of jumping guns, missing opportunities, or misreading a market that is changing so fast you’ll be left in the dust if you take a single day off. Seriously, skip one day of Publisher’s Weekly updates on twitter and you’re an antiquated, clueless boob.

Not long ago local book stores may have invited me to do signings or readings. As of this month, Books A Million and Barnes and Noble want nothing to do with me and my dirty Create Space cooties. Smaller indie stores are spinning in chaos, trying to make their way to the eye of the hurricane to survive at all. Many reviewers have become blatantly hostile toward independently published works. With My Boyfriend’s Back and the titles I have out under my sooper-seekrit pen name, I have dodged a lot of bombs. My Amazon reviews are consistently 4 or higher, averaging 4.3 for MBF and 4.5 or there-abouts for my other titles. All of those reviews were unsolicited. I did well elsewhere too-- some with bloggers, others on goodreads or similar sites. I made a conscious decision not to submit or query, but I may change that with Cry Uncle.

I’ve even re-delayed release while I figure it out. And do I go SELECT, or not? Do I thumb my nose at BN? I’ve never been able to figure out sales or actual rankings on their site. Amazon seems to be my ground zero, but there are readers who won’t download a Kindle app, and the soft cover won’t be cheap to produce. Do I price it fairly, or underprice it to drive traffic to an ebook that gets me more money per download? If so, can I afford to ignore Smashwords and BN? And if I go THAT way, how do I…

*sigh*

I don’t know. It seems like publishing is in a free fall. I’m loving how fast it’s changing as much as I’m wigging out with dizzy disorientation. It’s a wild ride, and I LIKE that it’s wild. I’ve always been a roller-coaster gal. I’ve never been one to spin sedately on a merry-go-round. But at some point we have to hit bottom, and the details do matter. Parachute or big, fluffy pillow? Bungee bounce or big, wet splash? The rules keep changing, and it’s not wise to be in mid-air while they sort themselves, no matter how exhilarating the fall may be.

Can I at least get some whipped cream on my waffles?

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