an author asked a Facebook group why his book wasn't selling

 

I'm intrigued by questions like the one posed on a Facebook author forum. A gentleman had self-published a book on Kindle Direct Publishing, then sat back, awaiting the book's arrival on the best seller list. After three weeks, not a single copy had sold. He posted the cover on his Facebook page and expected all of his Facebook friends to rush out and buy a copy and then tell all of their friends how great it was. They didn't.

He turned to the author forum to ask why? The responses to his question were frank, maybe painful answers provided by people who'd written, then actively marketed their books.

The most in-depth response was the person who explained, and I paraphrase: Think of Amazon as a big warehouse superstore and you just put a book on the shelf. It's sitting there with TWO MILLION other books. All of them are equally accessible to any customer. Without a dazzling cover, a wonderful blurb, and promotion, what differentiates your book from the others?

The most down-to-earth advice was: Close your laptop, get your butt out of your chair, and sell the book. Call libraries and bookstores and TALK TO REAL PEOPLE. Tell someone what your book is about and let them hold it while they read the blurb.

In a follow-up, the man posted his book cover and got barraged with comments about his tacky A/I designed cover art and terrible blurb. The author was convinced the cover and blurb represented the essence of his book and he didn't want to hear it was obviously A/I generated and unattractive. The blurb was poorly written and did nothing to draw in a reader.

Sadly, the author's final response was: "I like my cover. I don't like doing promotions. I want to write books, not SELL books." The responses to that were equally sad: "Lower your sales expectations unless you're going to actually market your books."

With 26 years of "selling" books behind me, I've learned the value of talking to people and building a readership. I've done that by signing in bookstores, flower shops, gift shops, and libraries. I've gone to bookstores and sold ONE book in two hours but know I've connected with dozens of people who may have been intrigued and picked up the book later. Two of my most unusual, and successful signing venues have been a bakery and a grocery store. One writer told me he'd sold out his entire stock of books signing outside of a liquor store on New Year's Eve.

The other reality is, very few authors make the New York Times bestsellers list. There are literary millionaires like J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, and John Sandford. Amazon having two million titles available, means there are thousands of us who have day jobs while enjoying an incredibly satisfying life as published authors.

I considered my early books successful if a quarterly royalty check paid for a trip to the Dairy Queen. 

Please check out my most recent release "Anchor Murder" on the BWL Publishing website and help subsidize a trip to Dairy Queen, or help pay for a doughnut and cup of Tim Hortons coffee.

Anchor Murder: Book 18 of Doug Fletcher Mysteries, by Dean L. Hovey — Books We Love Publishing Inc.

Norah resists her forbidden attraction to the German Major in war-torn France, by Diane Scott Lewis

 

To purchase, click HERE

I wrote this novel after watching a tv show about the German occupation during WWII. What if a young Englishwoman is trapped in France after the Germans invade and she must ask for help from the Commandant. She finds he's not at all who she thought he was, and a dangerous attraction develops. I hope you enjoy reading an excerpt.

Norah walked stiffly in, her courage waning, but her resolve anchored. She’d never been in this office before. And now with the Germans in charge, changing everything—and a child’s fate in her hands.

Major von Gottlieb stood behind his desk, tall and imposing, his expression curious. “What can I do for you, Fräulein Cooper?”

“My young cousin did something foolish, but he’s only a child.” She rubbed her knuckle along her collarbone and explained what happened in barely controlled words. “Please, don’t let anyone hurt him. He’s ten years old, and impulsive.” Tears dampened her eyes, despite her effort to appear tenacious. “Release him to his mother. It’s all a mistake.”

She saw the Major’s gaze change from surprised to concerned.

“Extraordinary. I will investigate at once. Wait here, Fräulein.” The Major thrust on his hat and indicated the chair in front of the desk. He marched from the room and shut the door. She heard strong words exchanged in German, the shuffle of feet.

Norah sank into the leather seat, unsure what to do. Her heart beat so fast, her chest ached. She glanced about the office. A picture of Hitler on the wall made her cringe. On a glass-fronted bookcase full of books was a smaller picture of a woman. Broad-faced but attractive. The Major’s wife?

Mahogany furniture filled the cramped room. The desk was neat, with a tan leather inlay. The room smelled pleasant, of lemon oil. She tried to balance herself as her mind spun.

A small table held a partially finished jigsaw puzzle. She stood to see what it was, to distract her upset.

The door opened behind her. She nearly jumped.

The Major strode in, his gaze fixed on her. He removed his hat. “Fräulein, it’s been taken care of. The child is being escorted to his mother as we speak.”

She pressed her hand to her breast, almost swaying. “Thank you. I’m so relieved.”

“Warn him he should not be so impulsive. It’s dangerous.” Without his hat, she saw the Commandant’s hair was sandy-colored, almost golden, a wave over his high forehead. He had a strong cleft chin.

“I will, I promise.” Her words came out too breathy. She still believed it unfair the villagers hadn’t access to their own coast, but she couldn’t allow her resentment to show.

“It seems a problem in your family, this impulsiveness. You should not have been dancing before the cottage the other night either.” He raised an eyebrow, but the glint in his eyes was somehow a challenge. “The soldiers notice these things.”

Her cheeks burned. Had he watched her dance? “You’re right. It won’t happen again. I’ll restrict my dances to the rear garden.”

“Good. See that you do. I’m only trying to keep you out of mischief, if that is possible.” His tone wasn’t harsh, his glance almost teasing.

“I must go and see how my cousins are.” Norah inched toward the door. She should have asked about Mr. Kerguelen, what happened to him? But wouldn’t push her luck. “Thank you, again. I’ll try not to be such a problem.”

“You’re welcome. Be warned to follow the rules no matter how you might object. Guten tag, Fräulein.” He bowed his head for an instant, like an aristocrat in a play. He smiled wryly. “Yet I imagine this won’t be our last meeting.”

Norah blinked then left the office and hurried across the square.

Was Jean home already? Surely the Major hadn’t lied to her. He seemed a gentleman. She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. What a bizarre thing to think about a Nazi commandant. What sort of man would follow the dictates of a tyrant like Hitler?

Find out more about me and my books

                              

Diane lives in Western Pennsylvania with her naughty dachshund.

They're sinking the Big U...by Sheila Claydon

 

Find my books here

An article about the cultural heritage of transatlantic liners has triggered a childhood memory. Exciting though it was at the time, I had long forgotten the day I ate lunch aboard the SS United States until I read about its imminent demise. Known affectionately as the Big U, it was the last word in transatlantic liner design. The biggest and the sleekest, it broke the transatlantic speed record on its maiden voyage from New York to Southampton (UK) in July 1952, a record it still holds to this day.

More than 40,000 people greeted its arrival in Southampton.  It then provided a regular service between New York, Le Havre (France) and Southampton until it was suddenly retired in 1969.  Since then its chequered ownership has included the US Maritime Administration, several individual owners and the Norwegian Cruise Line, all of whom attempted to make the ship profitable, but to no avail. Eventually her interior furnishings were sold and her interiors stripped to the bulkhead. Then, unloved and poorly maintained, she was towed to Philadelphia where she remained for many years while the United States Conservancy unsuccessfully attempted to raise funds to save her from being scrapped. 

Now she is owned by Okaloosa County in Florida and the plan is to sink her this year near Destin, where she will become the world's largest artificial reef. Artificial reefs have been created since Roman times, so this is nothing new even if it seems a sad end for such an elegant and famous liner. I don't know whether the plan is to promote marine life, control erosion, block ship passage or block the use of trawling nets. It might even be to enhance scuba diving and surfing.  Because Destin is a popular tourist destination I would guess it's for the latter. Sinking such a beautiful ship is sad but the good news is that at least the Big U will continue to be useful.

So where do my childhood memories come in? Well I was born and raised in Southampton and can just about remember the excitement of that maiden voyage because, as my grandfather was a merchant seaman for fifty years, ships were very much part of our family history. So I can remember being taken to see it as a tiny girl, not realising then that it was special or that I would be eating aboard it a decade later.

That's where my mother comes in. She was a florist, and in those heady days when a five day voyage from Southampton to New York meant that the ship's public areas had to be decorated with fresh flowers and foliage, and bouquet after bouquet had to be carried aboard and delivered to the cabins of departing passengers, she was very busy. As a young teenager I was sometimes conscripted to help during my school holidays and that is how I ended up eating with the crew on board the SS United States. The meals were large, hot and delicious, and I can see them in my mind's eye to this day.

Those experiences, together with my own journey through life, inform my books Cabin Fever and Bouquet of Thorns.

First of all Cabin Fever. This is the story of a cruise director and the lead dancer of the onboard entertainment troupe as the fictional liner, Oceana, sails from Aukland, New Zealand to Sydney in Australia. I have been on  that cruise but as as a passenger, not a crew member, and it was wonderful, not least because we have friends and family in both countries, all of whom we were able to see at the different stops along the way. The information about the life of the crew is, however, linked to what I learned from my grandfather, and to what I saw on board the SS United States. Times change of course and Oceana is a very different ship from the liners of the nineteen fifties and sixties. These were designed to deliver a fast and efficient intercontinental service in all seasons and all weather whereas the cruise liners of today are more like floating holiday resorts whose job is to convey tourists between ports. They are, however, still things of elegance and efficiency even if they are not looking to break any speed records. 

Bouquet of Thorns, while not set anywhere near the sea or a passenger terminal, contains much of the knowledge I learned about hotel floral displays, weddings, parties, in fact anything that can be enhanced by flowers, including, staying true to my writing genre, romance!

The Importance of a Well-timed Nap by Bonny Beswick

https://www.bonnybeswick.com/

  

The Importance of a Well-timed Nap

There are few things more comforting than curling up in a warm spot in the sunshine for an afternoon nap. It can be a luxurious indulgence, or a necessity after one of those pesky sleepless nights strikes. But it can also be a writing tool. You heard me right.

Used to be, I wasn’t a fan of napping. I was one of those people who would complain, “Oh, I can’t nap. I wake up so groggy!” Pro-nappers told me that was because I napped too long. Though I didn’t disagree with them, once cozy and warm, I didn’t have the discipline to get up and face the world again. By the time I struggled out from under the covers, I felt sluggish and ugh. (The Mayo Clinic advises that naps should be 20-30 minutes. Napping: Do’s and don’ts for healthy adults - Mayo Clinic.)

So, I avoided naps.

But recently, I’ve taken my blankets and moved decisively into the pro-nap camp. It happened unexpectedly when I was stuck on how to use the writing prompt, that’s so cliché in a short story contest. I’d bounced from idea to idea with an increasing sense of futility. Each time I put words on the page, they landed flat with no rhythm or momentum. Convinced I was a failure, I gave up and soothed myself by curling up with my favourite quilt in a patch of sunshine. In the moment just before I drifted off, when the traffic noise, hum of the fridge and my neighbour’s footsteps in the condo above me faded away, a story came to me, almost fully formed. The words tumbled onto the page, and I named it “Summer’s End”. It’s still one of my favourite short pieces and as a bonus, it won second place in the contest!

Since then, I’ve found that when stuck on a plot point, dealing with a recalcitrant character, or even coming up with the name for a story, sometimes a focussed and purposeful nap is when inspiration strikes.

Dad was a napper. As a little girl, I remember his after-lunch routine. He’d tune in to The Farm Report on the radio, then stretch out on the living room floor. Never the couch, though, because he said he didn’t want to get too comfortable. I could never figure out how he could both snore and still remember the prices quoted for cattle, wheat, barley, etc. When the news was over, or maybe a few minutes later, he’d heft himself off the floor and head out the door to the shop or tractor.

On the other hand, I never recall Mom napping. She was always in motion moving from one task to another, rarely sitting for more than a few minutes, and never resting. I don’t know how she managed because she was always the first one up (to put the coffee on, of course), and the last one to turn out the lights and go to bed. She was a remarkable woman (but that’s for another blog).

For most of us in North America, we’ve adopted a monophasic sleep pattern, adhering to the idea that you should sleep at night. A full 7-9 hours, most studies would suggest. This evolved in the post-industrial age, with the invention of electric lights and 8-5 work days. Prior to that, activity/sleep patterns were governed by the sun, seasons, and rhythms of nature.

Biphasic sleep patterns, where a person sleeps in two segments per day, is common in a number of cultures. Consider the traditional siesta where there is a shorter period of evening sleep and a planned nap lasting an hour or more.  Biphasic Sleep: What It Is And How It Works. For those of us used to the monophasic pattern, we sometimes look at this as laziness, but the pattern allows dwellers in hot climates to work during the cooler morning and late afternoon hours and to sleep when it’s hottest. Some studies also show that the extended nap in the middle of the day increases overall productivity.

Polyphasic sleep patterns (there are at least three “recognized patterns”) take the idea of long periods of sleep and toss them out the window. Adopting this sleep strategy is not for the faint of heart and is not without negative side effects. Polyphasic Sleep: Benefits and Risks

But let’s get back to the idea of a simple nap taken sometime during the day (although between one and three in the afternoon seems to be the sweet spot). About one third of North Americans regularly nap, and a higher proportion of those are between 25-34. I wonder if the proportion of those napping would increase if work schedules allowed for it? For individuals working from home, do they take advantage of nap opportunities? Before you tsk about the lack of discipline if they take the nap, studies have shown that memories and learning are consolidated in our brains during sleep, and overall retention is enhanced. If that’s the case, it would behoove all of us to enjoy afternoon shut-eye. Sleep Statistics in Canada | Made in CA .

I used to feel naughty taking a nap. Now, it’s part of my toolbox.

 

National Napping Day is celebrated annually on March 14 (the unofficial holiday was first observed in 1999).

www.bonnybeswick.com

The Aquamarine Necklace: A Janice Maidstone Mystery, by Bonny Beswick — Books We Love Publishing Inc.

www.facebook.com/bonny.beswick/

Cover Reveal for Jessie's Cafe by Nancy M Bell

 

Very happy to reveal the cover for my new novel coming in Spring of 2026. The image is an actual building in Castor, Alberta which was built in or around 1910. It has had many names over the years, Jessie's Cafe, The Royal Cafe, The Queen's Cafe, The Golden Crown. It was also known locally as Lewies and Andy's over its storied past.

The building has intrigued me ever since I move to Castor and it seemed natural to set a novel within its precincts. Sadly, the building is in sad need of restoration and as a heritage building I hope that someone will take on that task. Someone with very deep pockets. LOL

My story starts in 2026 but to do the building's history justice I have created a time travel journey with some interesting twists and turns. Another interesting thing about the building is the tiny shed that is clearly visible perched on the flat roof of the cement block addition at the back of the original structure. It looks suspiciously like an outhouse although I have been told it served as a garden shed at some point in its career. That humble shed plays an integral part of my plot...so stay tuned...

I love uncovering and discovering the legends and tales that seem to cluster around old buildings, as if they are just sitting and waiting to share their stories with anyone who is willing to linger and listen. So if you are ever in Castor be sure to stop by Jessie's/Andy's and then wander down the street to visit the other venerable building - The Cosmopolitan Hotel. This is also a 1910 structure that was in use up into the early 2000's. I'm sure if those walls could talk there is a plethora of stories regarding adventure and misadventure that has occurred over the years. Interestingly, there used to be another hotel directly across the street where the ATB bank is now. The National Hotel which burned down in 1924. Can you imagine the brawls that might have occurred with denizens of the two establishments duking it out in the middle of what was then referred to as Grand Avenue.

Until next month be well, be happy. Oh, and Happy Valentines Day even if it's a bit late.