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Tag: writing a novel

Marketing, Conquering my Fear of Failure

DC-WIX-shit together

Do me a favor? Put this on your wishlist? 

My first three chapters are here: Instafreebie

 

My last post was all about how I had stopped all social media marketing, discouraged and disheartened.

Today, I am happy to say, I am back at it.

As I listen and dance to ‘The Greatest’ by Sia, I am inspired.

I’m free to be the greatest, I’m alive
I’m free to be the greatest here tonight, the greatest
The greatest, the greatest alive
The greatest, the greatest alive

I truly am good at project management in my day job. One of the things I’ve learned is you need to create an end date and then put all of the tasks you want to do in front of it. If there isn’t enough time, move it back.

So here is what I did. I started with a date. I needed two weeks to ask ARC readers to review. That means my book had to be finalized two weeks before go-live.

Got it.

But I wanted to get some feedback from a few folks I know will be honest with me.

That’s another two weeks.

Now, what tasks can I do in those four weeks?

  1.  Go to Canva.com and make Twitter ads, Facebook ads, Google Ads,
  2. Using my ‘Mass Planner’ app, schedule my ads
  3. Schedule a newsletter and do swaps
  4. Define a Facebook audience, and take out some ads, see if any hit.
  5. Schedule my sale for one week before go live and one week after for .99
  6. Go to all the free sites or almost-free sites and schedule
  7. Pick paid promotions within those days
  8. Revise my blog daily, using key words
  9. Put first three chapters on Instafreebie

MARKET EVERY DAY FOR 30 DAYS BEFORE GO LIVE!!!!

Okay. The above may not be perfect, but I am not afraid and

I won’t give up, no, no, no.

 

If you like these posts…. you probably like my writing and might like to try a sample here http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B06XBCZGXL

 

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Marketing, My Fear of Failure

 

After the unremarkable sales of my last book, I dead-stopped marketing. The thought of updating my blog made me freeze, I couldn’t find anything worthwhile to post on Facebook and my newsletter went silent.

What the hell was wrong with me?

At first I was convinced that I wanted to focus on my writing, then I was tired, then my day-job was overwhelming. Yada, yada, yada.

While all these things are true, they’re not the root cause of why I stopped. I think I have atychiphobia, fear of failure, in particular fear of failing at selling my books.

Yikes.

I looked it up on line and have all the symptoms. For me, it boils down to this.  What if I put myself out there and people don’t like me?

ARGH!

My persona is that of a successful, positive, outgoing woman. However, my abused inner child sabotages me. I know this and yet when it happens, I’m blind-sided. Growing up, I never experienced unconditional love.

Dammit. That isn’t me. Not now.

I need to ask her to step back and let me try my hand at marketing again. Sure, I may fail but eventually, with enough practice, I’ll get better. While I’m learning, it doesn’t change who I am or my value as a writer or as a human being.

Starting at lunch time, here is what I am going to do:

Write this blog. Woo hoo. Mark this one done!

Write a marketing plan, complete with due dates.

Schedule no-excuse marking time into every week.

Break the to-do list down into small tasks

Create a new mantra! Repeat after me, “I am successful at marketing.”

Face your fear head on. 

Picture yourself as a marketing maven.  What does it feel like? Live there in your imagination. Write about her.

Define Milestones and rewards.  Maybe that trip to a warm island surrounded by sand?

 

I must thank this website for helping me to define my problem.

http://www.businessknowhow.com/marketing/marketingfear.htm

 

More to come… please leave a comment with your own struggles!

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The Sign

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The hail stung my face and my feet burned, wet and cold in my second-hand boots. The last storm of the season was brutal. In a way, I was glad for the ice, because it disguised the tears streaming down my face.

This was my first day back to work in the city. I’d secretly hoped to stay home with my first born, at least for a few more months, but it was not to be.

You see, my husband quit his job in order to have more time to devote to being a recording engineer. “This is my last chance to make it, honey. For you. For the baby.”

Who could argue with that?

Our brand new car was gone. Stolen. Probably by the guys who installed the alarm. Brought up in Vermont, I was pretty naïve, even at thirty.

My parents refused to help, not even twenty bucks for some groceries and a bag of diapers.

God? I just don’t think I can believe in you anymore.

My normal subway stop was blocked because of the weather, so I had about a mile to walk. The despair of leaving my baby, of wanting more from my spouse, of just wanting, was so great I don’t know how I took another step.

I would’ve ended it all if it weren’t for my little Emily.

There was no God. There was no greater plan for me. There was just nothing.

Then I saw it! It was sitting on top of an icy garbage bucket in front of a brownstone. A plastic Santa from the 50’s. The white electric cord is wrapped around the base.

Santy?

My mother put out two when I was growing up. My older sister was given one, my brother, being number two in birth order, was given the other.

I loved those damn things.

Wow. Suddenly it dawned on me that I’d been given something that very few experience.

A sign. God was watching. He heard me that day.

And with faith and hope, all things are possible.

Many years have gone by since then. I have a great job, am still happily married to my dreamer, and my two girls are off on their own, successful entrepreneurs.

And I still believe.

Merry Christmas.

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Stella’s Sexy, Savvy, Strong Heroines

…and the alphas strong enough to love them.

I can’t wait to see what adventures Stella writes next! …Lauren, Romance Novel Giveaways

Ms. Alden is now on my ‘go to’ author list. I can’t wait for the next story.  …Emma, Night Owl Romance

you-become

 

 

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Some people have asked me recently, why do you write?

Others ask, are you making a lot of money?

LOL!

Not yet.

So why DO I write?

One of my goals is to give back, but I am a little geeky, a little shy, and don’t have buckets of money to give away.

How can I throw good karma into the world?

I do it with my stories.

When I started writing, I vowed I would write about strong heroines facing adversity and overcoming. Why? Because I truly believe that we become what we think about all day long.

If we dream about having someone dominate us, that is no doubt what we will attract. I’m not saying don’t ever read those fun books, I’m suggesting to balance your reading.

Read and imagine yourself as more.

 

Thanks so much for stopping by.

I do hope you will become a fan and sign up for my bi-monthly newsletter. I hate spam, too.

You can also read samples here or go right to Amazon and pick one up for this weekend.

Or… just log in and leave a comment below! I love to respond!

 

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A New Twist on an Timeless Story

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When I visited Soriano last Christmas, I fell in love with the medieval city and its people and knew I’d have to write a novel based there.

Each fall, the residents hold a Renaissance fair to celebrate a fifteenth century battle. It was won in part, by the early warning of an old woman.

As I walked the cobblestone streets and stared up at the castle, I paused to wonder at it all.

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What if it wasn’t an old woman that sounded the alarm? What if it was a young woman in disguise? What if she was in love with someone in the castle? Would she risk everything to save him?
Researching the battle and the times, I was thrust into a world where couples like Romeo and Juliet lived and breathed. It was a time when marriage joined powerful families and love had no say. It’s easy to imagine a tragic couple like Romeo and Juliet.

In such a place and time, how could I help Bernardo and Aurelia, a young couple from opposing families, find their happily ever after?

 

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August 6th-12th 99¢ SALE

Hot August 99¢ Sale

 

…Stella is a recent discovery for me, and I’m just loving her books. The pace is fast, the sex is steamy without being crass, and she manages to mix wonderful descriptions in with a story that twists and turns…

…Alden’s gift for bringing to life the atmosphere and setting of medieval England’s wild countryside and challenges are equaled only by her ability to draw a feisty, strong female protagonists.

…has a way of writing that makes me lose hours in my day in her stories.
I can’t wait to read more from Stella!

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Strong Renaissance Heroine!

 

1489 AD – just north of Rome

Aurelia Nardini dresses as an ancient hag, sneaks under the portcullis, and sounds the alarm. Tonight, her uncle plots to murder the whole Carvajal family and take the city. Worse yet, because of love for her, the eldest son is locked in the dungeon. She must take action.

What is it about this infuriating woman? Bernardo Carvajal rescues her from Borgia’s bed, from a well-armed neighbor, and her uncle’s fist. Despite admitting her love for him, the stunning beauty refuses to marry. She speaks too rationally, acts too boldly, and drives him mad. And he can’t go on without her.

Enjoy the fictionalized version of events that’s celebrated every year in Soriano’s ancient hazelnut festival.

My latest thoughts…

The year 1489 perhaps is on the cusp of the Renaissance in Italy. Some would insist the year is still Medieval. The world was still changing slowly. Fear of plague kept strangers at bay. Forks were only recently in use and only among the nobility. Benches were still more common than chairs.
My story takes place in the town I visited last Christmas, where my daughter’s fiance has a family residence, built into the tufa of the volcano. When I heard of their hazelnut festival, my imagination took off….

But did I want to start researching a whole new era, a new society, two hundred years later than my last trilogy?

The story screamed in my head. YES! YES! YES!

Why does the festival in Soriano celebrate an old woman who saved the town? Why, did the heroine haunt me, claiming to be a young woman in disguise?
Who do I see a dark Spanish hero, who fights off the evil plots of a greedy neighbor?

 

TheAngelOfSoriano

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Sneak Peak at ‘How To Seduce a Queen’

Prolog

Year of our Lord 1283

The castle at No-Man’s-Land, just north of Carlisle

With arrow buried deep in his shoulder, Nicholas Bruce raced between the thick black pillars of his brother-in-law’s keep while colorful pennants flapped overhead in the parapets. Cold wind off the Scottish moors chilled him to the bone and the loss of blood made him lightheaded.

Pain blinded him as he all but fell off his charger, stumbled into the main hall, and collapsed onto his side. His pool of blood widened, staining the rush mats. All he could do is pant and stare, unbelieving. She tried to kill him? After all they’d gone through?

The devil grinned, waiting at the gates of hell, until a hard palm smacked Nicholas’ cheek, bringing him back to earth.

“Christ’s blood! Just what’ve you gotten yourself into this time?” Thomas D’Agostine, his Norman features laced with concern, cut away the sodden tunic. His shouts echoed in the great room, “Anon. Awake all. We need more torches! Merry, to me.”

Still in her nightclothes, Nicholas’ twin sister fell to her knees and put a cool hand to his cheek. Merry’s voice shook as she turned to a young maid. “Wake Lady Ann and have her bring medicines and flesh needles.”

Sleepy gawkers arose from their pallets and lit torches, candles, and lamps. Nicholas moaned, shut his eyes once more, and hoped for heavenly clouds instead of the fires of hell.

His face stung once again when Merry smacked a mite too hard. “Don’t you dare die. Not on Christmastide. I won’t have it.”

His heavy eyelids refused to open and to his surprise, angels, instead of the devil, greeted him. He prayed that his grin would stick to his face, long after he was gone. It would prove to the Lady Fay that a merciful God existed and had forgiven his many sins.

 

Chapter One

Three months prior

“I won’t kidnap her. Even if deposed, Lady Fay’s still royalty.” Nicholas clenched his fists and counted to twelve as he paced the upstairs chambers. Hell’s balls, how he hated Castle Carlisle.

As usual, any time he, his father, and grandsire gathered, Nicholas was the one that paid a heavy price. All shared the same hair, same hazel eyes, and same perfected glower, but only he was bastard-born. To distance himself from the others, Nicholas tied his red hair back, shaved often, and favored a simple brown tunic.

The other two wore red striped with green, as did the wall pennants, and a rug in front of the hearth. Even the bed, hanging by iron chains from the rafters, was covered in Bruce plaid.

Nicholas snorted. What arrogance. His grandsire, the fifth Earl in Annandale, was in fact, a mere steward. The keep, the bed, and the lands, all belonged to King Edward, no matter what the colors.

Dear God, if you have any fondness for me, and for England, let the old man drop dead before he can cause more trouble. Taking a deep breath, Nicholas wandered toward a new hanging. In it, Edward battled the Welsh, surrounded by yellow lions and God’s holy light. His father, the future Earl of Annandale, battled with helm down while an angel guided his sword. What a farce. There was no holiness on that day, only the suffocating odors of the dead and dying. He pressed his palms to his eyes and shook his head.

The old Earl, his grandfather, continued, noticing nothing amiss. “If it disturbs your chivalrous nature, woo her as you see fit. What’s so difficult? An overthrown queen’s no queen a ’tall. Steal her away and put your seed in her.”

Using the perfected Bruce scowl, and knowing how much it would infuriate the other two, Nicholas approached the warm hearth. “Just what are you two plotting?”

An old knurled finger shot forth, poking Nicholas in the chest repeatedly. “You should be gladdened by my offer. In the Isle of Man, they don’t care so much about low-born bastards.”

“God’s—umph.” Nicholas inhaled, then exhaled out a thanks when his father elbowed his gut. Better a pain in the side than locked up in the dungeon again.

“We’ll not be discussing my son’s birthright. Not here. Not ever.”

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. That was new. His father seldom stood up to the great and almighty Earl of Annandale.

The two glowered, their jaws clenched, and cheeks reddened until they matched the room’s decor.  Good for them. Hoping to escape the shouting no doubt to ensue, Nicholas slipped toward the door. He cracked it open, peered down the empty hallway, and took a step toward freedom. Then, the oak slammed in his face and his ever-vigilant grandsire tugged him back by his tunic.

“You will obey.”

Wool tightened around Nicholas’ neck, reminding him of a noose. Damnation. Even the dogs in Annandale’s Castle, got better treatment.

He tried to reason with the old man one last time. “King Alexander intends for Lady Fay to marry a Scot, nay an English.”

With his palms raised to heaven, the old maggot smiled as if saying mass for God Almighty. “We’re all but pawns in the game of kings.”

Nicholas scoffed. Even the fishwife knew that his grandfather plotted only for himself.

There was no way he should even considering this, but the idea of seducing a queen held some appeal to his basest nature. “Let’s say I were to agree. ’Tis well known that Lady Fay, the former queen, shot arrows into her last two suitors. ‘Twould be easier to bed a rabid boar.”

“I thought you loved a quest.” Old eyes reflected red from the wall’s hearth fire and thin lips exposed yellowed teeth. His grandfather knew he was winning the war and grinned.

The devil walked over Nicholas’ grave and he shuddered, despite the warmth. Instead of riding straight back to Scarborough, as he should’ve, he said, “Heed me. She lives on an island, surrounded by loyal guards. None of them will allow an English knight onto of the Isle of Man. I know. I met some of them last summer.”

The former queen was beautiful, and haughty, and he a low born bastard, not even knighted. His heart raced at the audacity. The penalties of such an accomplishment were unimaginable. The rewards, beyond his wildest dreams.

“If you’d married her last summer, as I’d asked, none of this would be necessary.” The old man chuckled. “If you’re worried you’re not man enough, I’ll send you with a dowry.”

God’s Blood, how he loathed the earl. So as not to land back behind iron bars, Nicholas chose his words with care. “Very well, but when I return, I expect to be knighted.”

His father laid a hand upon his shoulder and said softly, “Do this one more deed for Edward and for England, and I will see to it, son.”

A snort of disdain sounded from his grandfather.

Biting his tongue, Nicholas turned to gaze out the window where steel clanged against steel. To where holy knights practiced swordplay in the fields just beyond the walls of the keep. How many times had his grandfather promised, and then reneged? This would be the last time he whored for clan or country.

“I swear, should you not keep your word, I will search out Edward and we will all hang together.” He shook off his father’s fondness, turned on his heel, and headed for the tavern.

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New Romance Marketing Group on Facebook

Romance Author Promo and Marketing

Feeling frustrated? Is your marketing not working?

All alone and eating Chunky Monkey Ice Cream? Wondering why your books don’t sell?

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Please join me and other Romance Authors, on Facebook while we discuss this ever-changing topic. Join Best Selling Authors, Chantel Seabrook & Stella Marie Alden as we attempt to share our journey!

We just started this group, so don’t get discouraged! We have BIG plans.

 

 
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