My thanks to Gina at Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers for her compelling review of my new novel, The Scent of Rain.

http://insatiablereaders.blogspot.com/2017/06/the-scent-of-rain-by-anne-montgomery.html

Anne Montgomery’s new novel, The Scent of Rain, tells the story of two Arizona teenagers whose fates become intertwined. Rose flees into the mountains to escape from her abusive polygamous community where her only future is marriage to a man older than her father. Adan, whose only wish is to be reunited with his mother, is on the run from the cruelties of the foster care system. Are there any adults they can trust? Can they even trust each other?  The Scent of Rain is available at https://www.including.org/book/9780996390149 and wherever books are sold.

Recently, I did something I had never done before. I engaged the services of a publicist to help with the launch of my new novel, The Scent of Rain.

I have been writing books for over two decades, and, like many authors today, have had to shift quickly and often with the changing tide of publishing. Where once publishing houses shelled out expenses for travel and lodging, and food and books, supporting authors on the interview and signing rounds, today, all but a few big-name authors are required to do publicity themselves and to cover the expenses involved.

Authors are also obligated to have a broad on-line footprint, and, I know from personal experience, that involvement in social media, possessing a website, and blogging regularly are requirements spelled out in our contracts.

As a former reporter, I have researched what motivates readers to buy books, what to include in a perfect query letter, how to hook a reviewer, and myriad other topics “guaranteed” to sell books. And yet, in all honesty, I have given away more books than I have ever sold.

Until now. And the only thing that has changed is the fact that I hired a publicist.  Why didn’t I do it earlier? I suppose the cost. But, as in many budding businesses, one needs to spend money to make money. And what I learned is that, overall, the fee was not that exorbitant. Many companies allow authors to choose from a menu of options, priced accordingly that run over various lengths of time. I picked the three-week option: two weeks prior to my book’s launch and one week after. The cost: $1,800.

For that swipe of my American Express card, I received, more than anything else, a course in how to promote myself and my book.

First, I was interviewed at length by my publicist, Sarah, who wanted to find out all about me, my book, and why I wrote the story. She then created a press release – which we worked on together – and which identified the various angles media people might take in approaching a story about my book. Remember, publicity is not only about a review. Your topic was important enough to make you spend a chunk of your life writing about it, so you must convince media people that it’s vital your story is told.

Next, Sarah placed The Scent of Rain on NetGalley: According to the company definition, NetGalley “is a service to promote and publicize forthcoming titles to readers of influence. If you are a reviewer, blogger, journalist, librarian, bookseller, educator, or in the media, you can use NetGalley for FREE to request and read titles before they are published.”

Over three weeks, almost sixty NetGalley reviewers, librarians, and booksellers requested my novel. One month after that, my publisher ordered a second run of The Scent of Rain. So, clearly, people were buying my book.

Sarah and I spoke at the end of each week, talking about who had responded to our queries and why. She would also send me a detailed list of all contacts, and then we would plan for the following week, where we’d try a different angle. By the end of our three-week period, the list had grown exponentially. (Right now, it’s about 15 pages long.) And even when our time was technically up, Sarah stayed with me. In fact, whenever I need some help, I just e-mail her and she gets right back to me with suggestions.

The best thing of all is that Sarah didn’t just give me the proverbial fish, she taught me how to fish. For example, I used to contact bloggers, reviewers, book clubs, and media people just once. Sarah gently explained that you should make contact every three to four weeks. Rework that query. Try a different angle. Share some reviews that have come in. Touch base. Just because you had a “no response” – which is what happens most of the time in this business – doesn’t mean they might not be interested the second or third time around. And, you know, she was right.

It’s important to remember that there’s no hard beginning or end-time for promotions. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. So, I check that long list of contacts most everyday, reviewing the last time I touched base, re-reading the most recent e-mail, figuring the best way to try again.

I have my publicist to thank for my newfound promotional skills and the fact that I’m selling books. And if you think the financial cost for hiring a publicist is too high, consider what you’d pay for a college course in marketing. Because that’s what I feel I got in this deal. Here’s hoping Sarah would give me an A.

Anne Montgomery’s new novel, The Scent of Rain, tells the story of two Arizona teenagers whose fates become intertwined. Rose flees into the mountains to escape from her abusive polygamous community where her only future is marriage to a man older than her father. Adan, whose only wish is to be reunited with his mother, is on the run from the cruelties of the foster care system. Are there any adults they can trust? Can they even trust each other?  The Scent of Rain is available at https://www.including.org/book/9780996390149 and wherever books are sold.

 

Eighty-two percent of Americans form an opinion about someone after viewing the contents of their refrigerator. I guess that means folks are routinely sneaking a peek in the fridge, which, in and of itself, is a little creepy.

Still, when I read the statistic, I just couldn’t help myself. I bounded – in my mind I bound – off to the kitchen and opened the door to see what the stuff in my refrigerator might have to say about me.

There’s an awful lot jammed on those shelves – some things, quite frankly, I’m not sure I want to look at too closely – so I decided to list the foods that jumped out at me, figuratively speaking, of course.

Fifteen containers of mustard, all used at some point and lining a door rack, stood out. Now I’m not a complete wack job. They are different kinds of mustard: honey, spicy brown, sweet hot pepper, Coney Island hotdog, roasted garlic, and Jack Daniels horseradish, to name a few.

I did a little research and found an article titled “What your favorite condiment reveals about your personality.” (In case you think I made this up, here’s the link: https://www.dressings-sauces.org/what-your-favorite-condiment-reveals-about-your-personality.)

“Mustard usage is strongest among consumers age 35 to 64 and is also favored by those who consider themselves ambitious, self-disciplined and family-oriented,” the article said. “Mustard lovers also rate themselves as more shy than any other condiment-favoring group.”

All of that worked for me, accept the bashful part. Shyness is simply not incorporated into my DNA.

Also in my refrigerator, just above the mustard, were fourteen bottles of hot sauce. (Perhaps I’m a horder. I’ll have to revisit this possibility.) Again, all containers had been previously opened. They included Chipotle Tabasco, West Indian Hot Sauce, Brimstone Caribbean Red, Orange Pulp Habanero, and Big Black Dick’s Hot Cayman Islands Rum Sauce. (It’s a real thing, so stop snickering.)

Who craves hot sauce?

“If you are a man aged 18-34 living in the south or west, you probably prefer hot sauce to all other condiment sauces,” the above-mentioned article said. “You likely. . . are a competitive risk-taker. . .(and are) more happy, ambitious, spontaneous and risk-loving than other condiment users.”

While I’m a woman and the age bracket is wrong – I’m 62, but I’m pretty sure I look much younger – the rest is spot on.

Elsewhere in the fridge there are two crisper drawers, ostensibly for fruits and vegetables. And one does, in fact, house a large array of colorful healthy foods. However, the other drawer is filled with . . . chocolate: dark and milk, chips and cookies and my favorite toffee and carmel and nut confections. Wee Snickers bars peek from the clear plastic edges of the drawer. Multiple varieties of those chocolate slabs Trader Joe’s elves place by the checkout counter rest, half eaten, in a pile. That drawer is stuffed to the brim with sweet things, as if, perhaps, my unconscious mind is prepping for the zombie apocalypse.

“A sweet tooth has been shown to be linked to a willingness to help people out, but chocolate lovers are also emotionally vulnerable,” said another online article. “They’re charming, flirtatious and may even have a penchant for drama.”

While the rest of the fridge was filled with the usual stuff – eggs and bacon and milk, myriad cheeses – I love cheese! – yogurt and containers of things that should have been pitched long ago – it was the wine I focused on. There are always a few bottles chilling, as well as others in racks around the house. (Think the aforementioned zombie apocalypse here. One must be prepared.)

So, what does all this say about me? I haven’t a clue. Unfortunately, the statistic did not come with an answer key, which might have proved useful. So, I considered what mustard, hot sauce, chocolate, and wine all have in common. What did I come up with? They’re all pretty much indestructible. Really. Have you ever seen mold on mustard, hot sauce, chocolate, or wine? No! of course not. They have the half-life of plutonium. Proof: I visited the Cayman Islands nine years ago, which is when I acquired my Big Black Dick hot sauce. And it’s still perfectly fine.

What this all says about me remains elusive. Perhaps you’ll have to come over, sneak a peek in the fridge, and tell me what you think.

Anne Montgomery’s new novel, The Scent of Rain, tells the story of two Arizona teenagers whose fates become intertwined. Rose flees into the mountains to escape from her abusive polygamous community where her only future is marriage to a man older than her father. Adan, whose only wish is to be reunited with his mother, is on the run from the cruelties of the foster care system. Are there any adults they can trust? Can they even trust each other?  The Scent of Rain is available at https://www.including.org/book/9780996390149 and wherever books are sold.

Authors long for reviews. We go to great lengths to find folks willing to pen blurbs about our babies. Because, of course, reviews sell books.

So…we contact newspapers and magazines and TV stations, radio outlets, book bloggers, and those with the keys to the podcasts. Then there are the book clubs and bookstores – the few that remain in brick and mortar form. Sometimes, authors beg friends and family members for reviews, but that seems a bit on the suspect side. I mean, generally, don’t loved ones want to say nice things, if only to be polite and avoid familial strife? I have so far refrained from this particular approach, which does not mean I might not give it a try in the future. I just haven’t…yet.

A well-written query letter, to all the proper specifications, might glean a review about two to three percent of the time. Really. I sent out 60 requests one weekend and got two “No thanks” replies for my efforts. The other fifty-eight beautifully composed queries went unanswered.

Still, on that rare occasion when someone agrees to review your book…oh, the joy! And then the wait. Weeks, maybe months, go by before the results come in. And that first 5-Star Review? You read it over and over, lingering over the verbiage like it’s a letter from a lover:

“I say this is a must read! The book is utterly captivating and mature.”

“The story was tightly plotted and suspenseful.”

“Tragic, disturbing, captivating, but utterly fantastic!”

But as with most love affairs, eventually the words become too familiar, stale, and you long for something different. So the quest begins again. You need that high, and the begging – OK, go ahead and call it marketing, if that makes you feel better – begins anew.

Then, of course, authors must also stomach the not-so-charitable comments. There’s the dreaded DNF: Did Not Finish, meaning your book was so bad the reviewer simply couldn’t get to your well-crafted, quite brilliant ending.

“The writing style wasn’t for me. It was too descriptive for my taste.”

“This work aims high but ultimately falls short.”

“The brief, cliff-hanger chapters might appeal to reluctant readers.”

Ouch! And yet, we keep…on…looking. Hoping that someone will read our words and tell us what they think.

Perhaps there is something inherently wrong with authors that we are willing to put ourselves in a position of such utter vulnerability. I’ve heard budding writers say they fear rejection and I want to laugh. Rejection is part of the job description. One must embrace it: “That which does not kill us makes us stronger,” and all that.

A way to survive the emotional ups and downs of the book review process is to consider the subjectivity of the practice, because these missives are but personal opinions. Don’t believe me? Well, every one of the comments listed above, including the dreaded DNF, came from actual reviews of my most recent novel, The Scent of Rain. Go figure. How can one person adore a book and another find it repugnant? Beats me. But I do know we authors must never refuse to offer our books up on the sacrificial altar of Reviews. Yes, there will be low points, but the highs, I promise you, will blot out those blues.

So stand straight. Be bold. Believe in your prose and send your baby out into the world. Really, there’s no other way.

 

Anne Montgomery’s new novel, The Scent of Rain, tells the story of two Arizona teenagers whose fates become intertwined. Rose flees into the mountains to escape from her abusive polygamous community where her only future is marriage to a man older than her father. Adan, whose only wish is to be reunited with his mother, is on the run from the cruelties of the foster care system. Are there any adults they can trust? Can they even trust each other?  The Scent of Rain is available at https://www.including.org/book/9780996390149 and wherever books are sold.