I read today that Goodreads is expanding their Giveaway feature, and it sounds like a great tool. Unfortunately, they are also going to start charging for what has been a free feature. The Standard Giveaway will cost a whopping $119 (on sale at launch for $59). Do you see a bargain?
I do not. What I see is another company taking advantage of struggling Indie Authors. When will it end? Never, as long as we, the Indie Authors, tolerate this, it will continue. I for one, am tired of all the promotional crap out there that make exuberant claims about getting your book to people, but more concerned about playing on your desires for sales, than actually caring if you make any sales. As with most these days, they are actually devaluing our hard work, expecting us to just give it away. Yet, that's not enough, they want us to pay them for the opportunity to give our books away.
I have made efforts to help support Indie Authors, and I know many other who have done so, or are still doing so. They do this without asking you to pay them. I encourage all Indie Authors to stand up for themselves, stop giving your hard work away, and join other authors to send a message to these companies that wish to relieve of what money we do make from sales, and empowering the tradition authors while they look down on the Indies.
It's time to unite! We are not competitors, trying to edge out each other in a reading market, we are fellow authors. Where would Goodreads be if not for Indie Authors? Where would Amazon be? If all Indie authors disappeared tomorrow, there would be an outcry of lost revenue.
We are not second-class writers. We are Independent Authors who have chosen to not play by the games the traditional publishing companies play. We have declared that we want to control our works. We have power, my fellow Indies. Maybe we should start using it, and let companies like Goodreads know that we will no longer allow them to steal our hard-earned cash.
I will not use Goodreads new feature. I will not pay to giveaway my book. Who's with me?
Some writers call it their muse. Some may just call it their inspiration. I'm certain there are many ways to desribe what it is inside us that prompts authors to write. I'm also certain that it is entirely different for each of us. So, I can't speak for other authors, but I can tell you what it is for me.
Being a devout Christian, as far as I'm concerned, what it is inside me that enables me to write a story is nothing less than a gift from my Creator. It is the spark he puts in me that provides me the flashes of inspiration that find their way out of my mind and onto my computer screen. Whether the story I'm writing is something dark, or something filled with joy, I still believe that it is God who gave me the ability to put it down into a story of fiction.
As I considered this self analysis, I came to the conclusion, at least for myself, that I am like my Father in Heaven. That is, I want to create worlds. I find great satisfaction in developing a complete world filled with lore and history, people and cultures, and all the trappings that make a world believable and alive. I want to be just like my Father, in that respect. Of course, my worlds are only worlds of imagination. Even so, I find great enjoyment in the process, and then creating stories within it.
This is the approach I used for my Rangers of Laerean series. First, I created the world, then a few characters, and then began telling their stories. Even though these first parts were tedious and took time, I still enjoyed every moment, and the process is far from complete. I'm still creating more and more in the world of Hir. I may never reach a conclusion. Unlike my Father, who finished his work of creation, and it was good.
When a Reacher terrorist group enlist the help of a deranged serial killer, their goal is simple: bring about chaos in Britain. But when the death count starts rising chaos comes sooner than expected.
With the tension between the London elite and the surrounding slums reaching breaking point, Charlie finds himself in handcuffs on the wrong side of the border. Government agents are closing in and Charlie is running out of time.
Can his friends save him in time?
When the storm comes, will anyone get out alive?
About the Author
L E Fitzpatrick is a writer of dark adventure stories and thrillers. Under the watchful eye of her beloved rescue Staffordshire Bull Terrier, she leaps from trains and climbs down buildings, all from the front room of a tiny cottage in the middle of the Welsh countryside.
Inspired by cult film and TV, L E Fitzpatrick’s fiction is a collection of twisted worlds and realities, broken characters, and high action. She enjoys pushing the boundaries of her imagination and creating hugely entertaining stories.
She has just released BORDER LINES, the second in her paranormal thriller series, set in dystopia London under the Creativia label and is working on the next installment in the series.
Sneak Peek Preview
EVERY STORM BREAKS
Reacher Series #3
L E FITZPATRICK
The concrete barrier separating London and the surrounding Safe Haven was impenetrable. Built to withstand a full militia invasion, it was guarded day and night by trained security officers. On a normal day they would be watching a queue of traffic as the daily commute crossed the open gates, but this wasn’t a normal day. A full watch was gathered at the top of the blockade, automatic weapons poised, ready to shoot, ready to kill. The growing crowd being kept out was swelling, spilling over into the surrounding streets like an overflowing drain. The bubbling cesspit of discontentment polluted the atmosphere. Tension climbed as more and more people took up the plight of the immigrant workers, fuelled by fear, isolation, and more hardship. The rioters crushed themselves against the gates, kicking at the barbed fencing; screaming, climbing, falling. Blood stained metal like crimson rust. Things were turning bad and turning quickly.
John pulled up the car at the junction leading to the main gate. It was farther away than they had originally planned their ambush, but there was no way they were going to get any closer without being swallowed by the crowd. A raucous energy surged through the concrete jungle. Rachel dared a glance behind them. Another tribe of urban warriors was coming towards the gate, and soon their current position would be compromised too. Police sirens were getting louder, a tinnitus in this nightmare. It was going to erupt into a full-scale riot, and in a few minutes all of S’aven would be engulfed.
She twisted her fingers together, focusing on the closed border, allowing her powers to penetrate the collective feeling of the mob. The concentrated fear and hatred were overwhelming. She could feel their frustration, their utter hopelessness, even as far back as she was. Desperation was winning, and nothing short of a miracle could sate it. Bottles, launched into the air by the protestors, smashed against the fence. Glass rained down on the crowd, and blood started to pour. The police were closing in. Soon the fighting would flood into the surrounding streets. All of S’aven would be consumed. Rachel watched the gate and the air around her seemed to thin. She took a desperate gasp, trying to visualise their rescue attempt in this chaos. Anything leaving London was going to get swallowed up; anyone trying to help would be trampled.
“What if they don’t come out?” she asked.
“They’ll come out.” The certainty in John’s voice was unwavering. Nothing about their current view seemed to concern him. His composure was measured, as though he were watching this from a distant window, unaffected by the consequences of the phone call he had made.
Rachel couldn’t understand how he could be so calm. A couple of hours ago he was throwing bottles at a wall like the desperate men and women in front of her. Now he was sitting patient and expectant, waiting for a miracle she couldn’t believe in.
“And what if they do come out?” she said, softer this time. She clasped her hands together. The anguish around her was contagious. She wanted to lash out. To scream. To charge the gate and save Charlie herself. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how people should be treated. The rich shouldn’t be locked behind a wall with all the wealth, while people on the other side died in squalor. People shouldn’t be punished for wanting a better life. For trying. For being different. They shouldn’t be locked up, experimented on, executed.
“Hey, the gates are opening,” Roxy said, drawing her back before her outrage compelled her to action.
A shower of rubber bullets and gas canisters rained down on the crowd. Through the chemical mist, a vehicle pushed into the mess. It was unmarked, but it was obviously a government transporter. What else would brave leaving London in the middle of a riot? Before anyone could react, the guards behind it opened fire again. People dropped to the pavement, gasping in the smoke, crying out as feet stomped on their helpless bodies. Rachel could feel the rage surge through the street. If there had been a chance this was all going to pass over, they’d just lost it.
“Well, that was a good idea,” Rachel said.
The smoke hissed, making it impossible to see anything. Bloody, bruised people fell out of the poisonous fog, into cleaner pockets of air, but more were coming. Coming from the surrounding streets; healthier, stronger, angrier. And the border patrol continued to fire. Rubber bullets giving way to metal. This wasn’t a security mechanism—this was war. The gas was clearing and the gates were once again closed, but that left the van stranded and suddenly the only thing the crowd could retaliate against.
“Oh God, do you think Charlie’s in there?” Rachel said, unable to control her panic. Would the crowd take mercy on a prisoner? She didn’t think so. Even if they did, how much damage would they do before they even reached him?
“He’s in there,” John said. Still cool. Still calm.
The protestors started pounding on the truck, rocking it back and forth. Again and again.
“Holy shit, they’re going to tip it!”
“Take the wheel,” John told Roxy. “Turn the car around and get ready to move. Do not fall behind. Rachel, you’re on crowd duty.”
“Are you bloody kidding, they’re going to rip you apart!” Roxy shouted.
John gave Roxy a look, half smug, half challenging--I’d like to see them try—and gestured for Rachel to get out.
Marginally inspired by John’s confidence, Rachel took his hand and focussed. If they were going to have any chance, she couldn’t let her surroundings frighten her. The people’s tension and anger were fuelling the riot. This wasn’t going to dissipate. This was years of stored-up fury at the richer classes, at the injustice folk on the wrong side of the border suffered. There was so much hate. Too much to control. The weight of it was oppressive and, as Rachel tried to sway the crowd to her favour, she found herself blocked and unable to push her commands into their one-track minds. Her subtle Let me pass was being ignored, or unheard, or deliberately disobeyed, as though that was the one command they had conditioned themselves to reject. She needed something more, something that suited their mood.
Red and blue started flashing. The police were encircling them. They were surrounded, unable to go anywhere, and Rachel knew what to do.
“Stop the police cars,” she said, tapping the nearest man to her. He paused, his hand held up in the air as her words filtered into his brain. Then, like a switch being pressed, he was charging towards the nearest police car. She touched another, giving him the same command. By the third, the crowd had picked up the idea. They covered the police cars like a swarm. There was no escape.
Rachel squeezed John’s hand. She braved a step deeper into the rabble. If her powers failed, if her concentration slipped, they could both be crushed. A shot was fired in the distance. More smoke canisters struck the crowd. John took over. He pulled her towards the truck, somehow able to see what was happening in the frenzy.
“Get in the passenger’s side,” he told her.
She let him go, and for the briefest moment she was drowning. Smoke stung her eyes, and she had to hold on to the vehicle for support. As her hands touched metal, she could feel Charlie inside. The connection to him steadied her nerves. It was as though he were speaking to her, only there were no words or directions, just a feeling, a knowingness. A tremor passed through the vehicle, and she knew he had unlocked the doors for her.
She grabbed the door handle and pulled. It flung open, and she nearly went with it. A rioter pushed past her and grabbed a fat man from the passenger seat. As he came hurtling out of the truck, she launched herself inside. She swung the door closed and jammed the lock in place. Another rioter pounded on the glass, ecstatic that she’d breached the vehicle. He cheered, and a bullet hit him in the temple, spattering the window with pink flesh. His body fell out of view, swallowed by the violence below.
She turned to the driver and froze.
Mark was staring back at her. His lost brown eyes were wide, his mouth agape. Of all the people to come across. She tried to think of something to say, and then she saw the barrel of John’s gun press against his head.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said, and hauled Mark from the driver’s seat.
John slammed the door closed. A bullet hit the safety glass, scratching the surface. “We need a route out of here,” he said.
Rachel nodded and closed her eyes. She pressed her hands on the dashboard. Her heart was racing, but her head was focused. The command was instinctual. Attack the border! Immediately, the crowd was moving, abandoning the vehicle and heading straight to the gate. She didn’t watch them go; there was enough on her conscience already. John slammed his foot on the accelerator and hit the road.
Beyond Science-Fiction & Fantasy
Legend Quest - Written by Chris Nardone
In the middle ages, a monstrous evil was confronted and destroyed…or so they thought. Now five hundred years later, that evil is about to resurface in the Old West. When a dangerous hunt reveals an age-old curse, two cousins are all that stand between a cataclysm of demonic proportions.
The Pop Singer - Written by Todd Sullivan
The Pop Singer's newest fan may be the death of him.
Soraya: A Wielders of Arantha Prequel (Part Seven) - Written by Patrick Hodges
The ongoing Soraya serial continues.
The Boardwalk Cats - Written by Ken Goldman
The legend and lore surrounding cats and their mysterious abilities to bewitch is explored in a contemporary setting of both sci-fantasy and dark fiction. Told from both feline and human perspectives, "The Boardwalk Cats" explains just what may be going on inside those mysterious feline brains.
Fate’s Daughters - Written by M. C. Tuggle
When Dr. Thomas Lear discovers how to peer into alternate versions of his life, he learns what would have happened if he hadn't made choices he now regrets.
Excerpt from Infractus - Written by Sarah L. Johnson
The Bourne Identity meets the Book of Revelation when an assassin joins forces with an Archangel to destroy an oppressive global regime.
Epic Quest: Interview with Andrey Vasiliev
Sentinel - Written by Mandi Jourdan
Lucius struggles to reconcile the rumors of his queen’s treachery with what he recalls from growing up alongside her.
A Wizard’s Forge - Written by A.M. Justice
Scholar. Slave. Warrior. Wizard.
On a planet far from Earth, descendants of marooned space travelers fight a decades-long war. After seizing an opportunity to escape, Vic joins the fight against her former captor and begins walking a bloody path toward revenge. An unexpected discovery gives her the power to wreak the vengeance she craves, but it might also destroy her only chance for peace.
Stormguard Part VIII: The Invisible War - Written by Tom Fallwell
Zak and the Stormguard begin an all out assault against Lucifer's fortress to stop the Fallen's plans and free Uriel.
The Last Visit - Written by Richard Flores IV
If technology allowed the dead to visit their loved ones, even just once a year, how would it change the way we mourn? Would it be as pleasant of an experience as we think it should be?
The Silver Key - Written by Fariel Shafee
Several people engage in a deadly game that opens up a portal in space to transport them to fantasy worlds.
SciFan Preview: Dragonblood Throne: Legacy - Written by Tom Fallwell
Delina must find the essence of the dragon inside to defeat the usurper who murdered her father, and reclaim the Dragon Throne.
Becoming A Torin - Written by Matthew McKiernan
Rez is a solider in the human army and the two of them go to visit his human master, Lord Venrick. There is something of a cultural clash between the two brothers and Lord Venrick, who has replaced many of his body parts with animal and plant parts.
Who is John Dionysius - Written by Stan Faryna
Who is John Dionysius? Find out in SciFan Magazine! John is briefly mentioned in Stan Faryna's debut novella.
SciFan Featured Preview: Hero of Naught - Written by Jeffrey Falcon Logue
Following the destruction brought forth by the human-AI wars, humanity was forced to adapt. Two centuries later, the two forces have finally come together.
SciFan Exclusive Preview: Book One – Behind The Vale - Written by: Brian D. Anderson
Read inside for an exclusive sneak peak.
Title: James: Witch-Hunter
Author: K.S. Marsden
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Release date: 1st October 2017
~Prequel to the Witch-Hunter trilogy~
James Bennett is a Yorkshire lad, making the big move to Oxford to start university.
His ambitions involve getting a good education; impressing the Rugby Club; and not throttling his roommate. All perfectly normal drama, until Hallowe'en.
A girl's murder throws James into the dangerous world of witches, and those that hunt them.
After playing a sidekick in the Witch-Hunter trilogy, it's only fair that James gets to be centre stage in his own prequel.
This can be read as a stand-alone, and does not contain any spoilers. It may contain witches, bad jokes and cringe-worthy scenes; but definitely no spoilers.
Kelly S. Marsden grew up in Yorkshire, and there were two constants in her life - books and horses.
Graduating with an equine degree from Aberystwyth University, she has spent most of her life since trying to experience everything the horse world has to offer. She is currently settled into a Nutritionist role for a horse feed company in Doncaster, South Yorkshire.
She writes Fantasy stories part-time. Her first book, The Shadow Rises (Witch-Hunter #1), was published in January 2013, and she now has two successful series under her belt.
Charlotte had just made her second coffee of the day, when she heard a very insistent banging at the front door. Not in the mood for visitors, she reluctantly opened it.
And was met by the sight of James.
In a dress.
“I'll never get used to your humour, James.” She said, stepping aside and letting him in. “Fancy some fresh coffee? And when I say fresh, I mean instant stuff I've only boiled once.”
James closed the door behind him, and made his way through the narrow corridor to Charlotte's tiny kitchen.
Charlotte promptly poured an extra coffee and added sugar, her normally bright eyes were red, and it was clear she'd been crying.
“I broke up with Nathan.” She said, looking embarrassed that he had to see her like this.
“I think my roommate's a murderer.” James countered.
Charlotte handed him a mug of coffee, shaking her head. “When a girl says she's broken up with her boyfriend, most people would offer... never mind. You win. Why is Hunter a murderer?”
James gently lowered himself down onto Charlotte's rickety sofa. “I followed him last night. He was bein' weird, and I have a tracker on his phone-”
“And he went to this warehouse, where...” James trailed off, his throat closing around the words.
Charlotte misread his inability to speak, and gently rubbed his shoulder. “It's alright, you're safe here. Who do you think he killed?”
“Bea.” James gasped out. “You remember the blonde, Scottish lass? They hooked up at start of term; then the other night she was looking for him; next thing you know, she's dead!”
Charlotte put down her coffee cup, her hand shaking too much to hold it. She looked at James in all seriousness, “And you saw Hunter kill her?”
James shook his head, thinking back to last night, and the hooded figures. He was sure it was Hunter, “I couldn't clearly see who it was, but why would Hunter be there? It's one hell of a coincidence, that he bails on the Hallowe'en party and ends up at the same warehouse where the girl he was shagging ends up getting sta-”
“Did you physically see him there?” Charlotte asked.
“No, I was following a tracker.” James admitted.
“An illegal tracker, that'll never hold in court, James.”
James snorted, “Trust the trainee-lawyer to say that.”
“Hey, I'm just trying to see every angle.” Charlotte said, punching his arm. “There could be another, perfectly normal explanation. Maybe someone mugged Hunter and stole his phone – that sort of person would be more likely to head to the dodgy side of town.”
“Ha, it'd have to be the king of muggers to get the better of Hunter.” James argued. “He's super-fast, super-strong, and has anger issues. Which all adds up to someone very capable of murder.”
“Do you not remember how we first met? It's not often I get thrown against a wall, instead of the usual handshake. And I do rugby training with him – trust me, it's like getting hit by a car-”
“James, you're exaggerating.” Charlotte sighed.
“And I've seen him run – I forgot to show you.” James dug out his phone from the flowery handbag, and quickly found the video he'd taken weeks ago. “Look – look how fast he is! And don't you find it weird that he's never that fast in rugby games? It's almost like he's holding back.”
Charlotte looked at the video, and when the brief clip was over, she shrugged, “It doesn't look that fast to me.”
“Well, it seemed it when I was watching with my own two eyes.” James tucked his phone away. “He's not normal.”
“Yes, but there's a huge leap between what's not normal, and a killer.” Charlotte said, exasperated. “Don't get me wrong; I want to help you James, I really do... have you been to the police?”
“Yes, I stayed there overnight.” James answered. “I got knocked out, and some cop must'a found me. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in a cell.”
“Oh no, what happened? Did someone attack you?”
James opened his mouth the speak, but he didn't even know what to say. He remembered getting knocked off his feet by some powerful force, but that didn't make sense.
“What did the police say?” Charlotte asked, when it was clear James wasn't giving her an answer.
He shrugged, “Not much, just that Bea had died. They were dodging a lot of my questions.”
“That's normal police protocol for an ongoing investigation.” Charlotte said, knowledgably.
James shook his head. “There was summat not right about the whole thing. It just felt shady.”
Rites of Heirdron: book I (audio book)
They poisoned his planet, massacred his people, and violated his mother.
Now, they’re coming for him.
A bastard prince, born to a dishonored queen, Zrahnz is the last hope of a dying world. As he struggles to reclaim his legitimacy as a ruler and protect his planet, a debilitating illness threatens his sanity and his life. If he cannot save himself, his planet will succumb to the corrupt intergalactic alliances aligned against them.
The irrepressible allure he feels for an Earth-born visitor, Itanya, nearly overwhelms him, yet through her, Zrahnz discovers the secret that can ease the devastating agony of his illness. Could she be the key to his survival and the future of Triaxeyn?
With Q-1 Raydren at his side, and the Oracles’ influence, he uncovers corrupted histories and unscrupulous enemies. If he fails to make a crucial decision, his people and everyone he loves will be destroyed.
Zrahnz is denied his rule, denied his birthright, and denied the one truth that will save his life.
He wasn’t supposed to survive, he wasn’t supposed to fight, and he wasn’t supposed to receive, the RITES OF HEIRDRON.
Orbs of Trenihgea: book II (eBook)
They poisoned his planet, massacred his people, and violated his mother.
Then, they came for him.
After an interplanetary betrayal decimated his world, Zrahnz struggled to protect his people and reclaim his legitimacy as their ruler.
Now, he has received the Rites of Heirdron and vows to defend the Triax planets torn asunder by a corrupt galactic council, and the “shadow whisperers” who have manipulated them all.
With the aid of First Commander Lezayen and his QuNytwanian fleet, Zrahnz must unite the factions that deceived them in the past. The ensuing battle is for more than the survival of Triaxeyn, it’s for the liberation of the galaxy.
Two awesome prizes up for grabs. No sign ups or purchase needed.
Enter now! Good luck.
About the Author
Aaron-Michael Hall (aka Newland Moon)
Aaron-Michael Hall is an award-winning author residing in Georgia (She uses the pseudonym Newland Moon exclusively for her scifan novels). Aaron-Michael writes classic epic fantasy with a grimdark edge, and science fantasy romance. Since August 2015, she has written nine full-length novels and published five. Her first novel, The Rise of Nazil has won numerous reader awards.
Now, when she is not interviewing indie authors on her Desu Beast Blog, being super mom, wrangling stampeding miniature dachshunds, or managing her 9 to 5, she is interweaving genres, creating languages, and adding just the right edge to keep you turning pages.
Aaron-Michael created the Mehlonii language for her diverse Epic Fantasy series. Along with intriguing characters, multilayered plots, new species, deities, and creatures, the Mehlonii language adds that fantastical element missing from most modern Epic/High fantasy. You can listen to samples of the spoken Mehlonii language on her website’s Mehlonii page.
When asked why she wrote this series, Aaron-Michael simply said, “It needed to be written.”
It is her hope that the readers enjoy the wonders of Faélondul and Ahmezurhran even more than she enjoyed writing about them.
Mailing list http://theriseofnazil.us11.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=6b56f127540fa86812db8fc01&id=2d8cf30afe
The role of dragons in fantasy is as varied as the descriptions of dragon themselves. There are deadly dragons, evil dragons, friendly dragons, and heroic dragons. They come in all shapes, sizes and colors, and feature various abilities. But perhaps the most fearsome and touted ability of all is ... Dragon Breath.
Even the breath of a dragon can be described in many ways and with many varied results. I've read many stories in my lifetime involving dragons, and I've seen dragons that breathe fire, dragons that breathe smoke, dragons that breathe poison, and even dragons that breathe healing. The possibilities, as with anything in the fantasy genre, are endless.
When creating a dragon for my own stories, the first thing I always considered was, "What does this dragon breathe?" In my Rangers of Laerean series, the answer was fire. But not just any fire. For this story, it had to be a fire that rivaled the very depths of Hell itself. In fact, when the dragon appears, near the end of the first book in the series, A Whisper in the Shadows, he is composed of shadow and flames, having no physical substance. The dragon named Doomrage is the very essence of fire. When he reappears in the next book of the series, Where Shadows Fall, we see just how devastating the breath of Doomrage truly is.
Another series I've written, Dragonblood Throne, also has a dragon. This time, the dragon is the hero of the tale. In fact, the dragon is not a dragon at all, in the beginning. Delina must learn to become a dragon, which is her birthright. When she does, she is a very different kind of dragon from those in many other stories. Her breath is a white fire, but her breath is not the focus of her abilities.
A dragon's breath is just as varied as the dragons themselves, and I'm many of you have read stories of other types of dragons and dragon breath. If so, I invite you to comment to this blog post, and tell me about what you have read or seen, or even what you have created. I'm sure we'll all see there is no end to the possibilities for Dragon Breath in the fantasy genre.
While I've only been an author for a short few years, I've met many, many amazing authors and friends from all over the world. Literally hundreds of people I would never have known, if not for the Indie Author Community I discovered on social media. This is one massive support system.
As a new author, starting out, you may find yourself feeling daunted and alone, as I did initially. I had family and friends at home encouraging me, but I had no idea what was in store for me out there. What I found was the biggest support system an author can possibly have through social media. Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Google+, just to name a few, all bring the Indie Authors together in way no publisher could ever do.
The biggest majority of the people I've met are friendly, helpful and understanding of what it means to be an Indie Author, sharing their experiences and knowledge with others freely. This has helped me, and in turn I have felt the need and desire to help in return. I've found that helping other authors makes me a better author. It's a win-win situation.
If you're new to this author gig, I highly recommend you get on the social media and start joining other authors. As a community, we are able to help each other improve our writing, and encourage each other onward. We can help market each other as well, because we are not competitors, but partners.
With that, I feel I must at least mention two that have been a fantastic and impressive help to me; Aaron-Michael Hall and Patrick Hodges. Both are outstanding authors with wonderful books, and have helped me improve in many ways. There are tons more, but I can't list them all in this article.
So, get out there. Surround yourself with authors and become a better one yourself. Get help by helping. After all, what goes around, comes around.
Don't share. Copy and paste this. How many times a day do we see this on Facebook? Far too many, and I just can't help asking (to no one in particular, just asking a question aloud to myself), why? What's wrong with sharing? I mean, why do I have to copy and paste? What's the deal here?
So, this post today is a question to all who post this stuff on Facebook. I would really like to understand why we have to copy and paste, instead of share. It doesn't even make sense. If I'm going to repeat what someone else has said, I want to be absolutely sure that everyone knows that the words are not mine. You know, just in case of repercussions.
Another thing that gets me, are posts that indicate a Like is not a sufficient response. Such as, type something if you agree, or say something to show your on board. I'm sorry, but the whole point of the Like button is to indicate that we enjoy, or agree, or found favor with a post. Isn't it? So, as far as I can see, a Like is sufficient.
Now, please don't take any of the above as whining and complaining, which it is, but not seriously. I mean all of this in a humorous way, and just want to say that if you get a Like or a Share from me, then I definitely enjoyed reading what you've posted, and there's no need for me to jump through any more hoops to get that point across.
Happy posting! :)
What gives an author pleasure? That is a question I've asked myself, time and again, but I always get the same answer. Recognition of my creations, knowledge that someone, somewhere, enjoyed and appreciated what I have written. For this reason, I feel it is imperative that readers let authors know what they thought of their book.
Such recognition can come in a variety of ways. Which is what I would like to present in this article. How a reader can encourage an author they like.
1. Perhaps the best way to show an author you liked what they wrote is the Review. A review not only tells the author you like his book, it also tells other readers, and there is no better advertising for an author than word-of-mouth. If you really like a book, consider giving a review. The author will absolutely appreciate it.
2. Another way to show an author their work is appreciated is by joining their Mailing List. This tells an author you are interested in their work, and also allows you to keep up-to-date on what the author is doing.
3. Does the author have social media links you can follow? Liking their Facebook page, re-tweeting their Tweets on Twitter, or Following them on many other types of social media is always good. It also helps the author gain other followers, who see the number of Likes or Follows and may decide to check out the author's works.
Those are the most obvious ways, and there are certainly many more. The thing is, if you really like what an author is writing, it is vital that you show them. If readers just read and move on, the author never knows if their work is being read and appreciated. Yes, sales are good, but if the author is writing good material, shouldn't a reader let them know?
Speaking for myself, I would love to have lots of sales and make lost of money, but what I appreciate even more is a comment, a review, or some feedback that lets me know what a reader thought about my book. If you're a reader, and you like an author and their books, why not let them know. It's not time consuming or difficult. I know I would appreciate hearing from my readers.