Sometimes a book I expect to get moderate sales
takes off and a book that I expect to be a best seller and is an example of my
best work doesn’t do well.
And I’m left shaking my head.
I believe this happens to most indie writers and
publishers, at least until they’ve developed enough of a following that their
fans simply pick up a copy of each new book as soon as it’s published.
But in order for that to happen you first must find a way to attract those fans. Meaning you have to convince people to take a chance on you, an unknown
writer. And this isn’t easy. People aren’t fond of change. Over time they’ve
come across certain authors whose work speaks to them and they remain life-long
readers.
So how do you make this happen for you?
Well the first thing I suggest you do is learn
marketing. “But I’m a writer, not a salesman!” you say.
And here is where I remind you that aren’t a writer
or a salesman until you can support yourself with the money you make from
either endeavor. AND by learning marketing you greatly increase your chances of
being a successful writer.
Here’s why. As a marketer you know what books people
are likely to buy, you know what type of cover they are attracted to, you know
what type of blurb will likely ignite their interest. And most importantly what
keywords to include in the title! *Note* if you don’t know what I mean when I
say include keywords in the title download this audio book and find out.
Seriously, by learning this simply step can mean the
difference between selling a few books and a few thousand.
Here’s another trick. It’s called the ‘first five
pages’ rule. If you’re looking to be published, you have approximately 5 pages
to engage your reader enough that they NEED to read more. So if the best part
of your story begins on page 23, odds are you’re getting a rejection notice.
But here’s the most important factor when it comes
to attracting readers, and that is the cover. As mentioned earlier, I’ve
written books that should have been instant best sellers but only did
moderately well. Then I went back and changed the cover and sales took off!
So, I’ve decided to do that with a book I think is
one of my very best. It’s called The Dead Machine. It’s a terrific read from
start to finish. Here’s the original cover.
At the time it was published I thought it was pretty
good. Big DANGER to grab your attention Plus the DO NOT ENTER to rouse curiosity
but as good as I thought the cover was it only generated mediocre sales. So I created a new cover that I think is a bit more in sync
with the image I was trying to portray.
So what do you think?
And as for grabbing the reader’s attention and
making them NEED to read more by the fifth page…
I did it . Have a look here.
The Dead Machine
The Dead Machine
By
Zackary Richards
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
flatlined.
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.
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