writing – Sam Russell

Chewing the Cud, Farm and Family Life, Inspiration, Writing Romance

My June in Pictures

June 23, 2017June 24, 2017by Sam Russell2 Comments

In early June the world of leaf and blade and flowers explode and every sunset is different.

John Steinbeck, The Winter of Our Discontent

A pictorial diary of my month, what a beauty it’s been.

Wild roses with heart shaped petals.

Champagne cream tea at a friend’s birthday party.

Take That’s very own Wonderland.

The North Sea pretending to be the Mediterranean.

Pond dipping with the overgrown puppy.

The Summer Solstice.

Our barn home taking shape.

Writing romance with this view.

My cup overfloweth

Giveaways Events and Special Offers, Marketing and Promotion, Self-publishing, Writing Romance

I name this book… let’s launch indie style (Part 1 – The Pre-launch)

March 24, 2017March 24, 2017by Sam RussellLeave a Comment

There won’t be any billboard campaigns, bookstore displays, mainstream media interviews or big name reviews for your average indie book launch, we indies haven’t got the clout or the funds for that sort of malarky. But what we have got (in droves) are lively imaginations and a deeply personal investment in our ‘product’.

It’s three weeks today since A Bed of Brambles published in paperback and ebook. AVAILABLE AT AMAZON, IBOOKS, NOOK, KOBO AND MY LOCAL BOOKSTORE. (If my book is going to sell, I do need people to know that) so I thought I’d share my pre-launch preparations with you here.

Building buzz

You know all that time you spent blogging and tweeting, building up a following and an email list? Well, now is the time to make good use of those platforms – AND your imagination. As an indie, you’ve got the personal touch, so think hard about your options. Give updates, mention the book and the launch date but don’t be overdo it to the point of turning people off. Interaction is the key word here. Consider your (potential) readers and other interests you might have in common with them. Share topical stuff that links to your story, and pass on posts/tweets/blogs of others that catch your eye (you’re going to need these lovely people to return the favour and extend the reach of your own posts).

My golden rules are:

Keep it personal and interesting
70% topical/witty : 30% MY BOOK is a decent ratio to follow at this point
Post at different times of the day to connect with more readers and time zones
INTERACT

Pre-Sales

This option didn’t exist on Kindle Direct Publishing/Amazon when I launched my first novel, but it does now. Also on Draft2Digital, where I publish the ebook to iBooks, Kobo, Nook etc. It’s a useful tool because it gives you a mini pre-launch, pre-launch to tempt readers in (ie, it’s something new to shout about) and will (hopefully) give a boost to first day sales. Best of all, it gets a major job out of the way ahead of the launch panic. Your ebook is there, uploaded and waiting for buyers, avoiding the stress of wondering if you’ll get your timing right. (Horror of horrors – shouting about a launch date for weeks in advance to find the book isn’t ‘live’ when the date arrives.)

It’s not so easy with the paperback, in fact, it’s nigh on impossible (without a lot of complicated contortion which I, personally, don’t think is worth it). Not only are pre-sales difficult, CreateSpace and Amazon can’t specify an exact date when the paperback will be live. Three to five days is the best you’ll get, which is something of a dilemma because, in my experience, the book is often live on day two. With a launch you just can’t risk it (see horror of horrors above), so press ‘Publish to Amazon’ five days ahead (and keep schtum if your book, like mine, is live ahead of the launch date!)

Is this book part of a series, or have you written other books of similar genre?

Crank up the buzz and redouble your marketing efforts on the other book(s). I ran a Kindle giveaway on A Bed of Barley Straw, sought fresh reviews and signed up to Bublish so I could post excerpts from both books to social media (see my earlier post: Are you using Bublish yet?) Sales of the first book went up and I hope those readers will be itching to buy the sequel!

Physical copies of paperbacks for marketing and review

You may not have published a paperback, it’s very much a personal choice, but, if you have, now is the time to stock up on those lovely, physical books. They’re a great tool for marketing. You can do your own photo shoot, run giveaways and offer them to reviewers who prefer a paperback copy (at this point we’ll do anything for reviews, right!)

The paperbacks will feature more in Part 2 – The Launch, but if, like me, you publish through CreateSpace and don’t live in America (I live in the UK) you’ll want to get ahead of the game on ordering paperback copies to avoid the exorbitant postage. Print on demand (POD) copies for the author are printed in the USA (unlike UK customer orders, which are printed in Europe) so it costs to rush delivery and the cheaper options can take UP TO 6 WEEKS to arrive. (Please can you do something about this CreateSpace?)

Make sure you haven’t enabled any sales channels when you approve the final proof of your book, and CreateSpace will give you the option to order copies.

I’ll leave you with a pic from my photo shoot (retweeted on twitter as “the cutest book promo shot of the year” – but it does require a puppy, which I accept you may not have.)

I’d love to hear how other self-published authors set about preparing for launch day, and what you do when the big day arrives. Do comment below, and tune in next week for Part 2 – The Launch

Giveaways Events and Special Offers, Inspiration, Marketing and Promotion, Writing Romance

Meet the author in her natural habitat

March 17, 2017by Sam RussellLeave a Comment

What better place for my new book signing than down at the local, and how lucky are we to have such a gem on our doorstep?

‘The Local’ – a pub where locals meet for a catch-up and pint, a g&t and gossip, or a dinner of hearty pub grub (next to the roaring log burner). The heart of the village! All cliches because they’re true, be it the Fox and Hounds in Draymere, or the pub down the road from you. So I’m very grateful that our lovely hosts are letting little-old-me use their warm and welcoming bar for my book chat.

Grateful, but a tiny bit panicked. It doesn’t come natural, this speaking in pub(lic) lark, I’d far rather write it down. I’m talking to myself in the mirror again (the first sign of author madness?) and practising my signature, which should be easy, but I managed to sign Sam Reading the other day (it started so well).

My special authograph pen (gifted by eldest daughter) is primed and ready to go. I’ve managed to find passages in the book which I can read out loud and (a) don’t give the plot away, (b) aren’t too steamy. But my mind is inventing first night fears – what if no one turns up? What if someone turns up? I pity the poor sods who wander down for a quiet pint and find themselves thrust into romance. Or maybe they’ll enjoy it.

As will I, when I get there. I always do.

Gentle reminder to self; don’t overdo the Dutch courage.

Giveaways Events and Special Offers, Marketing and Promotion, Self-publishing, Writing Romance

It’s out! #ABedofBrambles

March 3, 2017April 11, 2017by Sam Russell2 Comments

That’s all folks! Got there. Did it. Published!

Available in paperback and ebook

BUY NOW

Chewing the Cud, Farm and Family Life, Writing Romance

Dearest child, I can’t recall your name (the consequence of a chaotic mind?)

February 24, 2017February 24, 2017by Sam RussellLeave a Comment

It’s not an uncommon condition. Anomic or nominal aphasia, apparently. Problems with name retrieval. Or anomia, problems recalling any word. Ah, yes, that happens too, occasionally.

Ironic that there are three names for the condition, and that I probably won’t remember any of them when I’ve finished writing this post.

C’est la vie. Whatever it’s called, I’ve got it. I run through a telephone directory before I hit on the right name for whichever member of my family I’m trying to holler. I might chuck in the names of the dogs, the horses, distant acquaintances (and, all too often these days, the name of a character in the novel I’m writing). My children have learnt to forewarn new partners that mother will refer to them by someone else’s name. In my defence, the name I use isn’t always that of one of their exes, but anomia has no decency filter.

When recalling the stars of TV or screen, Google is my friend. I can quickly locate the cast list for any film or drama. Now, what was the name of that blasted film? Pop stars, and who-sung-that? No point in looking to me for your answer, as many a pub quiz has proven.

Where we stayed on holiday will be ‘that little town/harbour/resort in the north/east/west/south’ and as a writer, I live in perpetual fear of being asked to name my favourite authors. Or what they wrote, come to that.

Apparently, it’s something to do with the way your synapses fire (or fail to fire in my case) and it frustrates me because I consider myself to be reasonably intelligent. I can recall many facts of less importance than the name of the person I’m talking to. My history teacher might have disputed my self-awarded IQ, but you tell me how it’s possible to correctly order the monarchs of England if you can’t remember their names. I wasn’t getting the dates wrong, you see.

When I speak, as an author, about my writing, I sometimes recount a funny story about how I changed one of my character’s names halfway through the manuscript (and the beta reading friend who sent me a text asking who the f**k is Ethan?). It always gets a laugh, (or is it a scornful titter?) and I thought it was amusing too… until the second novel came back from the editor with TWO character name changes, and one poor soul with THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

I’m afraid that’s what happens when you become part of my family.

Thank goodness for proofreaders. And thank you for reading, mary/jane/ben/tom… whoever you are. Please don’t take it personally, I’ve got a chaotic mind and I am synaptically challenged.

Chewing the Cud, Farm and Family Life

A Tale of Two Dogs (Episode 4) Don’t read while eating your supper…

February 12, 2017by Sam RussellLeave a Comment

Oh, the gore!

The terriers followed the farmer into the grain barn. It was always one of their favourite places. There’s a tunnel which runs through the middle of the barn, and at the end of that tunnel, a massive, industrial fan. The job of the fan is to blow air up through slats in the wooden floor, to dry the tonnes of grain which (we hope) are heaped upon it after harvest.

So, quite a meaty fan then. This fan means business. It also comes into use when we’re cleaning the barns pre-harvest – blowing mice out of the channels which run beneath the floorboards. It blasts those poor little mites up and into the air! Great sport, I’m sure you can imagine, for two little pest-control terriers. The sound of that fan firing up was a siren call to work for them. Heads up, and they were off.

Now, I quite like mice. I can’t say the same about rats, but mice are pretty with their cute little faces and twitchy whiskers. I console myself with the thought that the mice who live beneath our barn have a pretty jammy life; making their nests and rearing their pups in the warm and dry, with more prime feed-wheat than they could ever eat dropping through the ceiling.

The ones the terriers catch get a swift and efficient end to their lives too. Not for them the slow decline of poisoning or the panic of being trapped. You’ll know this if you’ve ever watched a terrier working. One shake is all it takes. A toss of dead mouse over the shoulder, and on to the next (although Nutty Meg was inclined to hover behind Russ and eat the dead ones that he threw back).

The dogs would return home knackered and proud. But, on one occasion, Russ didn’t come back at all. The Farmer went to find him, and I knew something was wrong from the tone of the Farmer’s voice when he carried Russ into the farmhouse. The poor little man was in a terrible state (the dog, not the Farmer, although he wasn’t doing so well either). The blood and froth spraying from Russ’s face propelled us all into the truck for an emergency trip to the vets.

He’d followed the Farmer into that tunnel, and when the door was shut behind him he’d tried to find another way out. When an industrial fan spins at several thousand rpm it gives the illusion of disappearing into thin air, and Russ tried to jump through it. The thought still makes me wince.

We thought he was a goner, but no. He lost about 4 mm off the end of his nose, and I spent three weeks delicately inserting a cotton bud into each of his nostrils (several times a day) and rotating it to stop them closing up.

The things we do for love, eh. He was right as rain in a few short weeks, but forever stumpy faced.

Marketing and Promotion, Self-publishing, Writing Romance

A Bed of Brambles teaser…

January 27, 2017by Sam RussellLeave a Comment

In case I haven’t teased you for long enough, here’s a sneaky extract from the new novel (no spoilers, I promise).

The rural lanes were familiar now, white painted signposts to places she knew, remembered landmarks. They crested the hill, the scenic approach, and their journey took them onto the Cotswolds Romantic Road, the route that didn’t pass the industrial estate or the council houses to the east of the village. Driving it after an absence, Hettie could see what the tourists saw, the contrast of chocolate-box houses and lush, picturesque landscape. She was lucky to call this place home.

Ahead to her right the village still slept in a leafy green hollow of clotted cream cottages and pantile roofs, with punchy chimney pots rising above their ridges. And off to the left, Draymere Estate, its dry-stone wall curving alongside the road, softened by the years and the tall grasses clustered at its base. The Hall wasn’t visible yet, as it would be if they drove on through the village. Alexander swung the car off the road at a break in the wall, the back entrance to the estate.

They passed her old cottage and the stable block. Hettie looked at the clock on the dashboard. It would be another hour before early stables and horses wanting their breakfasts. The thought made her smile, a reminder of snuggling down in her bed in that cottage, with time in hand before she had to get up.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking it’s good to be back.’

You might get another one next week, but then I’ll be stymied for passages that don’t reveal too much of the plot (or need an adult rating)

Self-publishing, Writing Romance

I’m faffing with formatting this week…

January 20, 2017by Sam RussellLeave a Comment

I know I shouldn’t do it, not until the ultimate proofread is in the bag. The reason I know that is because I did the same thing with the last book: Formatted everything neatly, and then did it all again after I’d made changes to the manuscript.

The trouble is, every format (epub, mobi, pdf) has a different trick up its sleeve. And Word is the devil incarnate when it comes to mischief making. My opening lines have popped up in bold, in italics and several font sizes larger than the rest of the text. Blowed if I can work out why. I solved it by deleting the page and adding it back in again. (A new take on turning it off and turning it on again.)

My PDF is immaculate. Immaculate, but reversed.

What the hell is that about? Everything in the right place, but on the wrong page. So my extra-wide margins for binding have become extra-wide thumb rests, and the page numbers should be on the outside edge of the page. Back to the drawing board (heavy sigh).

My PC won’t save the downloads, according to my Kindle reader I’ve already got a copy. (‘Search Documents’ doesn’t agree.) And I’ve shot myself in the foot by writing two books with very similar names. After hours of this brain exercise, I’m not even sure I’ve uploaded the manuscripts which tally with their covers. I mean, A Bed of… Barley? Or Brambles? Who’s daft idea was that?

Luckily, it’s only a trial run. I’m honing my skills so that the real thing will be perfect.

But my brain cells are knackered now, so I’m off for a frosty walk and some blue sky thinking.

Chewing the Cud, Farm and Family Life, Inspiration, Writing Romance

The USAAF in an English Hamlet

January 13, 2017by Sam Russell3 Comments

I’m Anglo-American themed this week. We live and farm on one of the many old airfields in the East of England which hosted the United States Army Air Force during World War II.

The runways are farm tracks now, and the Nissen huts store agricultural clutter, but that history has the power to snare.

As a child, I knew the ‘drome’ well. I didn’t live on it then, but I rode my pony over the concrete paths, cycled across it to reach the nearby village and played with mates in the control tower. There was a chalk board with writing still on it, we all thought the place was haunted.

Later on, I crossed the drome on my way to work, sometimes behind the snow plough as the farmer forged an escape through car-high drifts which often covered the road on that wide, treeless plateau (back in the olden days, when we had proper snow). But it wasn’t until I married and moved to the drome that the story of the people who had lived and worked there became real.

The plough turns up flints, hardcore for runways, and the land offers up all manner of military shrapnel. We dredged the pond and found a pair of discarded army boots, there’s a rusting belly tank a mile along the footpath and one of our fields is called ‘bomb site’.

Some years ago we excavated a single propeller from its resting place deep in the earth. It came from an A-20 Havoc, which crashed returning from a combat mission, on the 30th July 1944. The crew are buried in the American Cemetery. Three of the many young American men who didn’t make it home.

I can barely imagine what ‘our’ airfield was like at that time, for the locals who lived there, or for the brave men (and boys) of the USAAF who were fighting so many miles from home. Our village has sewn a banner to remember them, it hangs in the church, and we’ve collected some of the villagers’ memories in a booklet. Here’s an excerpt:

Reg remembers that you could hear planes warming up for morning raids before you got out of bed in the morning, and he used to go up to the aerodrome with his friends before school to watch them all take-off. The aircrew were briefed in a hut which still stands on the lane, and is now in use as a workshop. Guards stood in place outside the doors when a briefing was taking place. The planes’ engines were warmed as they stood on the dispersal points around the airfield, before being topped up with fuel. Then they went to the ends of all three runways and took off in different directions, crisscrossing as they climbed. The whole lot would be up within minutes. They would circle once, get in formation and be gone. And when he came home from school Reg got back on his bike to go and see what damage had been done and how many of the planes had not come home, leaving empty parking bays.

The local history reminded us of happier stories too. Christmas parties for village children, dances and friendships which endured through the years and across the Atlantic long after the war had ended. The exchange of eggs and milk for nylons and gum. Flowers picked from Cottage gardens and offered to English sweethearts by American Servicemen. Marriages and heartbreak. Families welcoming servicemen into their homes; baseball and big band music.

The village knew something was changing when white stripes were painted on the planes, but when the USAAF Eighth Force left they were gone overnight. There was no chance to say goodbye, and the airfield stood derelict.

‘All that life and excitement, and then they were gone.’

The Tudor farmhouse stood throughout the war, and saw good use as a secret meeting place for American airmen and their sweethearts, as an adventure playground for local children and as target practice for dummy bombings.

Margaret remembers the old house as a magical place, with rambling roses and beautiful, big windows; but Reg remembers it as a ‘knocking shop’ for the Americans!

Anglo-American rustic romance.

Chewing the Cud, Farm and Family Life

A Tale of Two Dogs, episode 3 (my dog’s got no nose)

January 8, 2017January 8, 2017by Sam Russell1 Comment

How does he smell?
Awful!

Christmas casts my mind back to Hamgate (subtitled: The Year the Terriers got at the Ham).
Our lean-to doubles as a larder when the fridge is overloaded. The ham was jus’ chillin’ out there when my parents rose early and, being the thoughtful parents they are, let the dogs out for me…

Those dogs stripped that ham bone clean. It looked like a bleached carcass, after the hyenas, buzzards and ants have had their turn on it. Two terrier tummies were swinging like water-filled balloons. You could see they were going to blow. And blow they did.
Apparently, your sense of smell shuts down when you’re asleep, but I know it was the aroma that woke me. Suffice to say the clean-up demanded waders and a tea towel wrapped around my face, gallons of soapy water and frequent dashes outside to gulp fresh air.

At least the mess was sorted in time for our traditional Christmas jolly to the theatre. We went with the in-laws (best clothes and best behaviour, you know how it is). Eleven of us in a mini-bus and that god-awful smell still lingering.

Oh, the mortification. My smartly turned-out little family were all wearing coats infused with Eau de dog-diarrhea.

So my dog really does smell awful, and he’s really got no nose. But that’s a whole other story, which I might share in episode four.