After the initial flurry of interest when they first came out, the books have fallen into a kind of black hole where I sometimes feel they will remain, unless people like lovely Lucy suddenly point them out and say what they think and then a few more people discover them and hopefully a chain reaction begins.
The books are listed
on my sidebar but that's probably not enough to
count as good PR so I'll just add that if you do want
to order either or both, you can do it via
the official links (Blurb and Lulu) as above, or via
Amazon, or simply by sending me an email and I'll post
copies to you myself.
And if any of you have a
knack for publicity then I'd be happy to have
you act as my PR persons. These things that 'go viral'
overnight, how does that work? What can't something that's
really good go viral? As you see, I don't lack self-belief,
it's just that I hate self-promotion.
MORE
13 comments:
Love Lucy's post! Hurrah for Blaugustine and Natalie's books! (I'm proud to note that La Vie en Rosé appeared with its full color illustrations on The Cassandra Pages as it was written, serially, as well.)
Beth, of course I remember your featuring La Vie on Cassandra and how proud I too was to be there. This self-publishing business is sometimes so frustrating but occasions like these make it all worthwhile.
Smiling broadly, I like my picture!
La Vie en Rose (can't do the accent) - wonderful, wonderful book. Such a lovely story, I found myself empathising so much with the main characters. And the pictures, just smashing!
Haven't got to the God Interviews ... yet!
Lucy, it's my pleasure! Your review is going up on the relevant page soon. On rainy days, inside or out, it's a place I can go to for a warming glow.
Adam, I haven't got round to adding your comments about La Vie to the above reviews page yet but I will, you can be sure.
Well I visited, sustained only by the Biblical precedent whereby Daniel emerges from his ordeal without a scratch. But I felt horribly vulnerable. Worse, I felt in danger of immediate humiliation. Like a chap who has a hole in his underpants and who is convinced - nay, utterly certain - that this will be the day he gets run down by a bus. Or is that a peculiarly Northern nightmare?
Lucy's got it right. I sell flights of fancy and nobody's buying.
One odd detail: I misread your nationality.
Roderick, thank you very much for braving all those nightmares and coming over. Now, about that coffee or better still a nice glass of whatever you take to calm you down? No buses will run you over at this stop and flights of fancy are my favourite escape.
My nationality: well, that's as confusing as the rest. British because I married one, American because my parents became naturalised, French because my mother was and gave birth to me in Paris, Russian in some part of my bloodstream because my father was, and I suppose I could throw in some Spanish and Italian too. But my passports say British and American. There, all clear now?
Modesty will get you nowhere in this age of self-promotion.
Hattie, that's very true. I'm not particulaly modest but unfortunately I don't have the knack of self-promotion. People who do have it can sell anything, even themselves, with the greatest of ease and even enjoy doing it. Amazing.
Natalie: I apologise for including the h in an earlier comment - a grievous solecism.
Nationality. Aha. I was half right. There were clues. I lived there myself for six years. Both ends of Pa.
You've overdone the reassurances. There's got to be some risk. You could make use of this passage from Out Of Arizona (previously Risen On Wings) which I've been revising. The unnamed responder is the hero, Jana (a woman), a US commercial pilot working in SW France; the "he" is an Englishman seeking to book a flight.
Still standing he looked down. “You bought your own Orangina. Gawd. It’s true what they said.”
“What did they say? And who were they?”
“Americans. Two floor traders in a bar in New York. Wouldn’t let me buy a drink; just to make a point. Brits, they said, are the meanest people in the world. The biggest panhandlers. Barman, here’s fifty bucks for this Brit’s tab. Tell us when it’s gone. It won’t take long.”
“Did you stay?”
“I took them at face value.”
Go on, tell me how badly it parses, how it lacks narrative drive, how NY floor traders don't drink. How it shows my anti-US feeling. Take advantage of playing at home.
I apologise (again - you've got me on the run) for this act of self-aggrandisement. I decided to comment on one of your posts but not the current one. Instead I flipped back to October 09 2006 where I read:
The bad thing about blogging less often is that your stats go waaaay down and you're about the only visitor to your blog. The good thing is that you stop checking your stats, since there's nothing to see, and then you stop caring about stats altogether.
It may have been your first post. Either way, congratulations. One of blogging's eternal verities.
Oh wooo-eee, I feel exhausted. Coffee - black with nothing. But I would prefer a glass of 1945 Richebourg which, as you know, is a well-regarded burgundy. Note the date; it was created while the Nazis still ruled France. The proprietor of the publishing company that employed me ordered a bottle for my retirement lunch. The price was £450 if it turned out to be corked (a distinct possibility) and £550 if it was OK. I would judge.
Story to be continued. But not in the immediate vicinity. I'm on my hols in five days time and I need to rest up
Roderick, glad to see you've overcome your Fear of Blaug and even treated me to a free extract from a book of yours! I would never presume to critique it, even if I had any pretentions of being a lit crit, which I'm definitely not. It sounds like fun anyway and very cinematic.
My American life ended when I was just out of my teens and since then I've lived elsewhere so I can't really speak as an American. Or as representative of any other nationality. I don't understand patriotism because I've personally never felt it for any country but it's impossible to avoid noticing the damage it causes when it turns fanatical - as it often does.
Whoa! I didn't mean to start ranting.
What a great retirement lunch you had! My ignorance has many mansions and I'm afraid wine connaisseurship is one of them. Shameful as it is to admit, I wouldn't know a £550 Richebourg from a Sainsbury £7.99 Special Offer.
I've always had a soft spot for The God Interviews ( I think it was the first thing of yours I found).
I just recommended the perusal of them to another comic-book writing blogger, Rachel Fenton.
Dominic, that's much appreciated. I keep on meaning to add Rachel Fenton to my blogroll and will do so now. Thanks for the boost.
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