Patsy Porco

Posts Tagged ‘Internet’

Idiot Lesson

In Humor on January 18, 2013 at 3:35 pm

My mother uses the term “idiot lesson,” when she’s referring to something ridiculous that happened to her or to someone she knows. The “idiot” in question could be anyone involved. Today, I was involved in my own idiot lesson, and the idiot was me.

My mother’s birthday is January 20th, two days from now. I realized this last night. Of course I hadn’t mailed a gift or card. This morning, at work, I made a homemade card on my computer. Then, on my lunch hour, I ran over to the Gap and found the perfect gift for her. That only took 20 minutes, so I headed over to the post office. When I got there, it was gone; the building which had housed it was gapingly empty. That was weird, because I had recently been to that branch, a mere seven or eight years ago.

As I returned to my car, a fur-coated woman walked toward me. My job is in an affluent town–not the town I live in–so I assumed that the well-groomed, be-furred woman lived there and knew where I could find a different post office branch. I asked her if there was another post office in town and she informed me, in a cultured English accent, that no, there was not. And, she added, it was a sad loss to the community when the branch I was standing in front of was closed.

(As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’m a sucker for an English accent. If you were to tell me, in an upper-class English accent, that I was really a man and had been living a lie for 52 years, I would believe you. I don’t know why this is–why I admire English accents so much, not why I’ve been living as a woman when I’m actually a man. I know my awe is a genetic trait, though. Back when I discovered that I was pregnant, I enlisted my sister’s help in finding me an obstetrician. She made a few calls and told me who to choose. She said she picked this particular doctor because his nurse-receptionist had an English accent. I made an appointment.)

So, I headed over to a convenience store in my town, ten minutes away, that had a post office in the back. I sent the package via two-day mail and sighed in relief as the clerk affixed the postage to my package. My sigh was sucked back in when she told me that the package would definitely arrive by Tuesday. Tuesday, holy crap! But, it made sense, once I clicked on my brain. Two days from now was Sunday, a day the post office doesn’t deliver, and the next day was Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, a federal holiday. If I had previously known these two facts, I wouldn’t have run all over two different towns during my allotted 60-minute break—a break that was rapidly becoming a no-minutes-left break. I could have just ordered flowers over the Internet and had them delivered on time, with no hassle for me. But, it was too late for remorse. I decided to cut my losses and get back to work on time.

I hopped onto the highway connector–which I never drive on–and almost missed the exit to the highway. Almost. I quickly checked the lane next to me, forgetting to also check my blind spot, and moved into the exit lane, almost causing an accident, judging by the angry horn blast from the car behind me. My heart jumped through my chest and landed in my lap. I gave an “I’m-sorry-I-cut-you-off-but-I’m-glad-you-didn’t-crash-into-me” wave to the driver behind me, reinserted my heart, and got off the highway onto a local road. As I approached my workplace, I passed a post office branch in a strip mall–exactly one block from the closed post office I had visited earlier. I could not believe that that English woman had led me astray, and into an almost-accident.

What an idiot lesson, to quote my mother, who will not be receiving her gift on her birthday. I guess I’d better order those flowers, after all. Bloody hell.

Sticking it to the (Publishing) Man

In Books, Publishing, Self Publishing, Self-Published Books, Website, Writing on October 6, 2011 at 3:45 pm

Publishers used to be the last word in getting your book into print. Once you were rejected by one and all, you pretty much had to shelve your book and give up on it, or start over with a new book or a rewrite. People actually lived entire lives trying to get published and died trying. Now when publishers say, “No!” you can say “Oh, yeah?”

Your book’s future is in your hands now. Self-publishing your book may not have the cachet that a big (or small) publishing house’s backing does, but it does guarantee a reward for all of your hard work and dedication. After you sweat blood (or vodka) over the writing, rewriting and editing of your book, you know that you will eventually hold a completed, bound copy of your book in your hands–unlike the legions of authors who up until recently poured their hearts and souls into manuscripts only to have them, and their dreams, end up moldering in desk drawers. One guy I know said that when he received copies of his self-published book, he was so elated he could’ve cried. Before the advent of self-publishing, there was a lot of crying, but the tears didn’t stem from joy.

Once the elation of being a published author subsides, however, you are left with the monumental task of marketing your book. This is where having an established publisher comes in handy. Big publishers have departments that schedule author tours and advertise their authors’ books. You have none of that. But, if you think about it, even if your book were represented by a large publishing house, there’s no guarantee you’d get a lot of attention. Most of their money is spent on publicizing their best-selling authors. The rank-and-file authors don’t get much notice from their marketing departments. And if you were picked up by a smaller, more obscure publisher, they wouldn’t have the resources to promote your book in a big way, so, you’d probably be in the same boat you’re in now. So, forget about the big publishers’ big money and focus on your next step: marketing and selling your book.

By now, you’ve probably hit up all of your friends, relatives, coworkers and acquaintances to buy a copy of your book. You might even have blogged or tweeted about it or started a Facebook page for it. These are all drops in a bucket, but without drops, how do you expect to fill that bucket? Drops are essential. So here’s another one: List your self-published book on my new website, www.spbroundup.com. It stands for Self-Published Book Roundup, or maybe Self-Published Books Roundup. I’m not really sure; that’s why I used the abbreviation SPB. Anyway, email me the title of the book, your name or whatever name you used on the book, and a brief summary of the book, including the category or genre of the book. Also include contact information and a link, if any, to a site where the book can be purchased. Then tell people about the site. Blog about it, hang signs about it, tattoo the URL on your forearm, whatever it takes to get the site noticed. Of course your efforts will help my site and why should you do that? Because your book will be on it. And every time someone goes to the site, there is the potential for a sale for you. So we help each other. There’s no financial cost to you at all to have your book listed, so what are you waiting for?

Oh, you’re waiting to hear why I’m doing this? That’s simple. I want to stop commuting two hours each way to work. If the site becomes successful and attracts an advertiser or two, then I can stay home and maintain the site full time. I love to read, so helping you sell your books to other readers while I make a little money seems like a win-win proposition to me.

Okay, my cards are on the table. Now please put your cards–i.e., book–on my list. Send your entry to patsy@spbroundup.com. And if you like my site, please add a link to it on your site. And good luck to us all.

 

Check out what indie authors have to offer at www.spbroundup.com.

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