Most of the fiction writers I know would rather work on new material than spend their energy promoting completed projects. I’ve had agents; I’ve had publishers, and I’ve generated material independently, but no matter how my stories went public, they all require that I keep doing the chicken dance (imagine arm-flapping, squawking, and other anti-social behaviors) in the hope that readers will find them.
And, just so you know, the chicken dance is tiring. It might not be if I were any good it. But despite reading countless “How-To” articles on self-promotion and agonizing over a useful definition of my target market, I sometimes wonder if it wouldn’t be smarter to invest in lottery tickets on the off chance that I’d win big and be able to afford to hire a public relations agency to go out and honk my horn for me.
{Blatttt!}
But then I’d worry about blasting out some poor schlub’s eardrums and thereby earning his or her eternal enmity.
{Sigh}
If only I could get away with just saying something like, “Hi! Would you please give one of my books a try? Resurrection Blues would be a great place to start. You’ll have a good time, I promise. Lots of oddball characters, some interesting history, a respectable volume of laughs, and a plot that hasn’t been done to death. What more could a reader want?”
But that never seems to be enough. Wait! Maybe I can find a recorded version of a “How To” article. That way I can listen to it while I drive to the convenience store to buy my Lotto ticket/Potential PR campaign.
Sage of the South 