Friday, May 22, 2015

Why Your Books Aren’t Selling and How to Fix That



Why Your Books Aren’t Selling and How to Fix That

I belong to a writer’s group and last night we had a new member, a talented and intelligent young woman, who appeared to be wholly devoted to the craft. She was putting the finishing touches on yet another novel and was preparing to send it to agents and publishers.


This one, she was convinced, would be the one that would garner her a writing contract and launch her career as a best-selling novelist.

 Out of respect I did not laugh out loud. 

Afterward however, when the usual group met for drinks at the local watering hole, she chose to join us.

When she said that the first thing she was going to do when her book was published and the royalties started pouring in was to buy a horse…

I just had to speak up. As a writer and publisher I have seen too many aspiring writers fritter away a large portion of their lives writing books and hoping THAT one will launch their writing career.

It doesn’t happen that way anymore. And please don’t point out the very small exceptions to that rule. If you read their stories you will see they were ASTOUNDINGLY lucky and had they not gotten a writing contract they would have most certainly won the lottery. And yes they were very talented but talent is a dime a dozen and over the years I’ve met many extremely talented individuals who, if talent was the only prerequisite, they would have become house-hold names. But it didn’t happen.

So consider the famous Clint Eastwood line: “Do you feel lucky, punk? Well, do ya?”

Ever see one of those people who are constantly buying lottery tickets, their eyes wide with the overwhelming belief that any day now, they are going to win the jackpot.

Silly, aren’t they?

Believe it or not, the odds of you getting that writing contract are the exact same as those playing the lottery. The only difference is that the lottery winners get to keep the money. Much of a novelist royalties go to their agents, publicists, lawyers, taxes and paying back advances.

So here’s what you need to ask yourself: Do you want to be a writer? OR do you just want to be rich and famous? Any nit-wit with a sex tape and become rich and famous. But if you want to become a writer, then you need to make some serious changes in your approach.

First, lose the ego. All writers have enormous egos that have convinced them that they only need write a great novel to become a famous writer. Not true. There are a number of truly awful books that have become best sellers because the writer understood the marketing concept that made success possible.

I address this concept in my book The Best Book on How to Write, Publish and MarketYour Novel into a Best Seller. I also show you how many so-called best- selling writers, who have never written a word, collect thousands of dollars each month in royalties without having to pay a dime to publishers, agents, publicists, etc. To get a copy, CLICK HERE

But it all boils down to one thing. If you are genuinely serious about becoming a successful author, YOU MUST LEARN MARKETING.

Believe me, I know you don’t want to hear that BUT publishing is a business and to quote Dan Kennedy, this country’s most successful marketer, “All businesses are the same.”

The ugly truth is when it comes to getting people to buy your work of art, your genius tale, your literary masterpiece, the market strategy is the same as selling a bag of cement, women’s make-up, bicycles, lawn care products, computers and every other marketable product.

So here is the reality and the choice you need to make. You can either spend countless hours writing books that no one, other than friends and family, will read or you will learn the basics of marketing. And the truth is once you understand how book marketing works, you won’t need to get a publishing contract, you’ll know how and where to promote your books and keep all the profits for yourself.  And believe me, once the publishing houses see your success they’ll be lining up at your door looking to sign you to a contract.

So what’s in this for me?

Reasonable question. If you download my book I’ll get a commission. To have a look CLICKHERE.

But I’m going to go one step better. I’m going to give you access to a free video marketing course. It’s the same one I learned from. And simply put, this is a MUST if you’re serious about making writing your career.

Here’s all you have to do. Click on the link below, type in your name and e-mail address in the box and download the FREE course. That’s it. No credit card or obligation involved. Once downloaded an icon will appear on your desktop, click on it and the tutorials will begin. It will start with the basics-how to create a website, domain names and webs hosting, which you likely already know how to do but then comes the tutorials where you learn exactly how marketing works and how to get your book out in front of people looking to buy it.

Think about it. If your books aren’t selling the answer is NOT to write more books. The answer is to learn how to SELL more books

So download the FREE marketing tutorials HERE and let's get started

Thursday, April 30, 2015

FREE Best Selling Book Download.


One of Ari Publishing's most popular novels, The Dead Machine, features seven people thrown together after a scientific invention, created with the best of intentions, opens a portal whose inhabitants are blood-thirsty predators known only as daemons. In the Dean Koontz genre, it is a fast paced thrill-ride that starts on the very first page and continues unabated until it's breath-taking climax.


 Here is just one of it's five star reviews:


Keeps you on the edge of your seat with all the twists, challenges, and obstacles the group of seven face in order to keep this world safe from daemonic possession. Virgil, a self-proclaimed 'freakin' genius' has opened up a can of worms (or daemons, in this case) and it becomes necessary for mere mortals to put them back. I highly recommend this read, but wear gloves so you don't bite your fingernails off. Carol McKee

Want a taste? Here are the first three pages.



Chapter One



   “Virgil? Good heavens, Virgil, is that you? Is that really you!?”
   Virgil’s eyes immediately widened and his heart leaped at the sound of her voice. His hand trembled on the dials as he fine-tuned the transmission.
   When the hissing lessened he replied with unrestrained excitement, “Yes, yes it is me! It’s Virgil!”
   There was a moment’s hesitation, then she asked, “How… how is this possible?”
   He stared at the speaker, imagining her face, longing to see it again. He paid no attention to the cold or to the steamy vapor escaping his mouth as he breathed. Nor the drafts that bit into his fingers and snaked up his pant leg. He even ignored the acrid smell permeating every inch of the barn.
   Nothing mattered, nothing but this moment, this incredibly special moment.
   Shaking with excitement, Virgil leaned into the microphone. “Do you remember, just before you were taken away, me telling you that no matter what, I would find you, and that we’d be together again?”
   Through the crackling static came a reply. “Yes, but that… many years ago. And in th… situations people say things, knowing that… comforting things… lessen the hardship, to lessen… pain. I never thought that …”
   “That I’d actually find you?”
   The static grew louder and panic gripped Virgil. He jumped out of his seat and scanned the computer screens, recalibrating and synchronizing the feed.
   “…have found me. Oh, Virgil, somehow you‘ve done the impossible!”
   “Nothing is impossible!” Virgil shot back. “They all scoffed. They ridiculed and dismissed my work as a delusion, as fantasy. My grants dried up, my investors backed out; even the military gave up. But I never gave up! I made you a solemn promise and today, that promise has been kept.”
   “Virgil, I don’t know what to say, I…”
   Virgil interrupted as he scanned the computer screens. “What are your surroundings? Describe them for me. Can you see the stars?”
   The static increased. The reply broke up. All four computer screens flashed Recalibrating…
   “…The horizon in the morning… when I look out… the lights are always on… when we gather as a group…”
   The hissing overwhelmed the rest of the sentence.
   Virgil’s hands flew over the controls.
   Recalibrating…
   “Mostly, we have a…”
   Recalibrating…
   Some background noise seeped into the transmission, then a stranger’s voice. “Virgil…? Lillian, did I just hear Virgil? Where…it coming from?”
   “Bert, this is…private conversation and…”
   The man ignored her. “Virgil? Is that you? Where are you? It’s me, Bert Langley. Remember me? I… science teacher… down… block? You used… newspaper to my… when you… kid. And I… tip you a whole…”
   “Get out… here, you bastard,” Lillian bellowed. “Virgil doesn’t… about you! He wants… talk to me!”
   Virgil heard a grunt, a huff and a shuffling of feet.
   “Okay, he’s gone, and yes, we... several times a week… socialize and talk about…. back home.”
Virgil felt a lump in his throat. “You still miss us? Even after all this time?”
   “Of course, Virgie! It’s knowing that our… care for us is…keeps us together. You are… thoughts each and every day.”
   Tears spilled down Virgil’s cheek. “You are in mine each and every day too and…”
   Virgil stopped when he heard Bert Langley’s voice again. It grew louder as he moved back into the transmission field. “Over there, see? I told you! Lillian is… with the outside. What? No! She’s not sending signals, she’s receiving them! See for… apparently… is possible…”
Lillian’s voice broke through in sharp hushed tones. “They’re coming Virgil! Disconnect! I don’t want them to know what you’ve accomplished. Get… to me in… few days!”
   “Who’s coming? What are you talk…?”
   “Disconnect! Disconnect!” she shouted.
   Virgil did.
   He bowed his head and his hands fell into his lap as the level indicators on the array of computer screens slowly dropped, then flat lined.
   A few moments later, when the shock started wearing off, he said in a shaky voice, “I did it!       After eleven years of ridicule from those jealous miscreants, I did it! We actually spoke.”
   He wrapped his arms around himself, breathed deeply, then shot his fist into the air. “And this,” he said, bursting with confidence, “is just the beginning!”
   Virgil rose from his chair at the control panel, walked over to his desk, reached down and picked up the framed photo that had accompanied him everywhere he went. He gazed at the picture, smiled, kissed it and placed it back on his desk.
   The photo was of his mother, Lillian.
   A woman dead for the past eleven years.


Want to read the rest? Then download your FREE copy HERE