This 15-second video was a cinch to put together. All I needed was my book cover, some type, and some fade-in animation, and the quick PowerPoint was complete. Converting the PowerPoint to video took some time, only because my particular version of PowerPoint didn’t have that easy “Create a Video” button that the newer versions have. Luckily, my college-age son had the most recent edition, so I emailed him the PPT and he created the MP4 in, literally, minutes. Then he zapped it back, and I uploaded the file to YouTube, added the music (free, courtesy of YouTube, which asks that you credit the music authors in your description), and voila! A cute little promo video. Then, using a YouTube Downloader app, I downloaded the video, so I am able to use it in other forms of marketing, like here. :) Such a great time to be an indie author!
I’m so THRILLED to premiere the cover of the sequel to BABY GRAND — BABY BAILINO — coming out this fall! I decided to go with a more literal interpretation for the cover this time around, rather than conceptual, like Baby Grand’s. I’m sooooo happy with it. I think it really captures the flavor of the series. What do you think? Would love to hear your thoughts!
Well, after a month of rigorous editing and a thorough proofread, the manuscript for the sequel to Baby Grand is off to be blurbed and copyedited. As of yesterday, I finalized the eBook cover, which will be revealed later this month, and audiobook cover, and then it’s time to have the interior of the print version laid out and designed. So exciting!
As I work on producing this book and preparing for Pub Day in the fall, I am reminded of how much I enjoy the self-publishing process, how much I love making the creative and business decisions that pertain to my book, everything from cover design to price. As an author, it’s so important to invest time and money (as much as you can afford) into your book and treat it like a product, particularly if, like me, you’re not one of these self-published authors who likes to tinker with her books — fixing typos or changing cover designs — once they’re finalized and uploaded. I do everything I can to get things right the first time.
And that means shelling out some dough. I spent about $3,100, when all was said and done, to publish Baby Grand four years ago in all its formats, and it’s looking like it will cost that much or more to produce the sequel. (Note: I made my investment back on the first book and then some — and still going. Fingers crossed that I will do the same with the second, or else the third book — yes, there will be a third book! — might be published on tissue paper.)
As an author, I want my books to look and read a certain way. I want to be proud of them. And I want readers to be proud of them, too. Readers deserve authors — traditionally published, self-published, or otherwise — who put their best foot forward, whether they’re being funded by a major publishing company or a piggy bank.
Well, here I am, my sequel sitting in its hypothetical drawer, and me anxiously waiting for a month to go by so I can dig back into it for a thorough edit. It’s like waiting for Christmas to come. Or maybe a route canal, I’m not sure which. New ideas keep flooding my mind during this downtime, and I’m doing all I can to try and remain detached from other intriguing creative ideas I have (jotting them down, of course, in case they turn out to be something) in order to focus on the upcoming task. When I emerged from my Drawer Limbo the first time, with Baby Grand, I was ready to breezily edit the book, but found myself miserably stuck on the first page for an entire day. It wasn’t pretty. Hopefully, I’ll be able edit this time around with ease (she says with a Homer Simpson-style d’oh!). I think I did a thorough first draft, but who knows? I guess I’ll find out May 1. Bring on the Novocaine! What have you been up to this month?
Well, it took a year and a half (the same amount of time it took me to write the first book, coincidentally) but I’ve finally finished writing the sequel to Baby Grand. Woo hoo! Cue confetti!
What’s the next step? Stick the manuscript in a drawer (yes, I’m showing my age), or, perhaps, on the back burner of my life, and refrain from looking at it for at least a month. Why? It’s important to get some distance from your work, and that’s something that only time can achieve. Even when I write feature articles, I can go an hour or even an overnight between reads. Time has a way of revealing all kinds of typos and issues. My students at Hofstra University always hear me say that just because you can write “The End” on a manuscript and upload it to Amazon the same day doesn’t mean that you should. Like my mother-in-law’s chili, manuscripts need to marinate a bit for maximum flavor.
So, a month from now, I’ll go through a round of editing, and I’ll have a better idea of where things stand, because I’m sure there will be more to work through (there always is), but for the moment I am breathing a sigh of relief and giving myself a little pat on the back. My book may not yet be ready for prime time, but the first step of the publishing process is completed, and that certainly is worth celebrating. Yay, me! :)
If you’re anything like me, you spend much of your time listening to characters talk inside your head. Particularly when I’m winding down a novel, as I am now, I find that the chatter is constant. When I’m driving or I’m in the shower or I’m just lying in bed, their voices get louder, their circumstances more vivid. I can’t turn it off. (Not that I’d want to, really, but sometimes a girl has to sleep.) Jodi Picoult calls writing “successful schizophrenia.” I would tend to agree, at least about the schizophrenia part, for sure. But successful? For me, it depends on the day. How about you?
It was a spur of the moment decision. On February 9, the day before Ash Wednesday, I decided to give up social media (excluding WordPress and any postings I do for work) for Lent. I did it for lots of reasons, chief among them being I wanted to finish writing the sequel to Baby Grand, a project I started back in December 2014. I knew I was spending too much time on social media, but I just didn’t know how much. It was a lot. At first, I was perplexed by all the oodles of free time I didn’t know I had, but soon I found new activities to fill the void, as if I were a starfish whose amputated limbs were regenerating: I wrote quite a bit (the sequel is nearly completed, and I also found time for other writing, including this essay that appears in today’s Newsday) and charged through my daily to-do lists like nobody’s business. I also found myself calmer, serene. Turns out, while I was busy scrolling through posts, my thumb double-tapping images almost absently, I had been missing out on a lot of something that was important to me: me.