The Problem With Writing Books
This is my latest newsletter on Substack…
The problem with writing is that you have to market and sell books.
Ugh.
I have known this since 2005 when I first sold “Julia’s Chocolates.”
Write a book, market a book. That, dear ladies and gentlemen, is the literary deal.
Side Note Here for a Sec: When Innocent Husband read “Julia’s Chocolates” he was supremely, silly-shocked. As in, “WHO ARE YOU, CATHY?”
There were some crazy scenes in there with women engaging in some slightly unhinged, though healing, moonlight-induced “activities,” which probably brought on his unbridled feelings of mystification and bafflement.
It was like he didn’t know who he was sleeping with anymore.
In fact, one time he put down Julia’s Chocolates and said, his voice constricted, “You thought of, uh, all of this?” He paused. “By yourself?”
Oh yeah, Innocent Husband, dear. I did. Perhaps I’m not who you thought. Surprise!
He blinked in confusion at me through his glasses, like an owl. I tried to look svelte and mysterious, like a sexy spy. (That was hard.)
But I digress. I, personally, would rather write books, talk to myself, chase ostriches, dress up like a caterpillar for a week, or loudly and authoritatively announce in a crowded elevator, “We will now be leaving for Planet Uto. Please hold on and prepare for light speed force,” than market my books.
Alas, not marketing is not a possibility in our rockin’ and rollin’ (read: brutal) publishing world.
Marketing your own books, to me, is almost embarrassing. You have to get off your bottom, waddle on over to your computer, wrestle with the social media dragons, and say, “BUY MY BOOK.”
Click on the link to read the rest and have a lovely day.
