In today’s Publetariat Dispatch, indie author Moses Siregar III takes a closer look at how his readers are employing the Notes function in one of his Kindle novels.

This post originally appeared on his Moses Siregar III’s blog and is reprinted here in its entirety with his permission. It seems like the Most Popular Notes feature on Amazon’s Kindle may be a very useful tool for authors; who among us wouldn’t want to know which passages our readers felt most strongly about?

So I bought a new Kindle Paperwhite, and it’s almost an amazing e-reader (Mostly, I love it, but there are some issues with the “white” part when using the built-in lights–namely, the background isn’t a uniform color). One nice new feature (okay, I lied. It’s actually an older feature even on my trusty kindle2, but I hadn’t realized that until today) is that if you click to “View Notes & Marks” on a book, you’ll sometimes get to see the top ten most popular highlights on the book.

 

Some books show these highlights and some books don’t. And you’ll probably see more highlights on your device than you’ll see on a book’s page at Amazon.

I’m one of the lucky ones, because my first novel does show the top ten highlights. Because I haven’t had any big news in awhile–semi-kidding, although if you want to follow my author news, my Facebook Author page is the best way, or on Twitter @MosesSiregar–I’m going to paste the top ten highlights (selected by the readers) from The Black God’s War here. I’ll list them in order with the most popular highlight at the bottom of the list.

1) “I know know how to fight him. His gods are a projection. They are just as false as this world. I know that. I will win.”

2) “You are a master in a tiny field. The ultimate truth still lies far beyond you. There is no end to evolution, to the unshackling of chains.”

3) [this is one a bit spoilerish] “his domain also includes the dark processes of life, including the balancing of what you might call sin. Our concept is karma. It suggests that whatever we do returns to us because in truth there is no separation between us all. So when we act upon another, we act upon ourselves. Evil acts come back to us, while good deeds bring good karma. As I understand your Lord Danato, it’s as if he is a god of karma.”

4) “The mind is the master of the physical world. The physical isn’t observed by the mind–it’s actually dependent on the mind.”

5) “Introspection, clarity, and creative imagination must come before action.”

6) “It’s the most recent worst day of my life,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”

7) “The descent to Hades is the same from every place.” -Anaxagoras [this is a quote, not my words]

8 ) “A man must act on his conscience. I would rather die than live by no greater principle than my own survival.”

9) “This is why our desires must be questioned before we undertake any great endeavor. If our values are flawed, our actions can only produce imperfections.”

10) “I believe it is not important how long you live, but that you give yourself to living. Live as only you can, with every part of you fully engaged.”

It was definitely fun for me to see what readers have highlighted in the book. Do you have any popular highlights on your favorite books (or on your own books) that you really like?

And if anyone still manages to read my blog even after all of my updates have been going to FB and Twitter rather than here, and if you can remember–without going back to the book–which characters said each of the above quotes, give it a shot in the comments [section beneath the original post] and if you get them all right I’ll have to figure out something really cool that I can give you. Maybe a signed copy of book two?

In today’s Publetariat Dispatch, author Peg Brantley muses on the sometimes murky waters of authorial ethics.

This post originally appeared on the Crime Fiction Collective blog and is reprinted here in its entirety with that site’s permission.

 

If you draw a line in the sand—over which you affirm you will not cross—where do you redraw it when a wave washes it away? Or when a jogger comes along and tramples it? Do you draw it in the same place or move it somewhere out of the way?

Integrity only means something when you stand strong. It’s mist in the wind if you adjust your values because they become inconvenient. Keeping your integrity might mean you have to lose a few quick sales, or build your career a little slower than you’d like.

Here’s what I’ve seen with many authors recently—traditional or indie:

A lot has been made lately about phony or paid reviews. Most of us were righteously indignant, and deservedly so. Some people unfortunately, simply wish they’d thought of it first. But that’s only one piece of the game.

What about biographies? Is your biography dead-on, or have you played with reality a bit? I’ve heard it referred to as “permissive puffery” which to me is just another way of moving that line in the sand. Did you really make your living as a journalist or is the truth that your local hometown paper published two letters you wrote to the editor? Or that you were a star for your school newspaper?

How about calling yourself an award winning author because you came in second place in some obscure writing contest? (I have a framed certificate on my wall. Does that count?) I remember when I won that award, a friend told me I could now refer to myself as an award winning author. I think she meant it tongue-in-cheek, but it did make me wonder.

Then there’s calling yourself a bestselling author because your book hit the top 100 of a free list, narrowed down by three or four categories? Are you serious? The NYT’s Bestseller list has a few ethical issues of its own—don’t compound it by adding yours.

Or review trading—explicit or implied. This was kind of a new one for me. No one actually came out and said “I’ll give you a great review if you give me a great review”, but the timing of their review and suddenly receiving their book made it hard not to hear those words. And when I wasn’t crazy about their book? I sort of felt like I should somehow move to have their review taken down. It felt fake and sleazy.

To be perfectly honest, I asked a few readers who had given my first book a positive review to take a look at The Missings early in order to give it a nice bump at its launch. But I also spread that request out to others who may or may not have ever read my first book. One of my first 5-star reviews is from such a reader. Dishonest? Unethical? Lacking in integrity? I don’t think those were any different than publishers sending out ARCs to try and get that same bump.

Writers, what about you? Have you seen things that made you shake your head? Were you ever tempted?

Readers, especially readers… have you begun to see through some of this stuff? Does it make you doubt everything?

Peg Brantley was never a journalist or a screenwriter or a sought after speaker. Although Amazon might say she has some bestselling books, she’s still trying to reach that mark. Yes, she did receive second place in a writing contest once and even an honorable mention in another… but award winning? Net yet. RED TIDE rose as high as number two one time when she happened to look at the list. That was a kick. It didn’t last.

 

In today’s Publetariat Dispatch, Publetariat founder and Editor in Chief shares her annual holiday tradition of reprinting her poem, A Writer’s Night Before Christmas. For those who don’t know, the “NaNoWriMo” to which she refers in the last line is National Novel Writing Month, in which participants attempt to write an entire novel in the month of November.

 

Twas the night before Christmas and all through my draft
Were examples of my inattention to craft
My characters all hung about without care,
In hopes that a plot point soon would be there.

My family were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of red herrings danced in my head.
The dog on its blanket, and the cat in my lap
Had just settled themselves for a long winter’s nap.

When on my computer there showed a blue screen!
(And if you use a PC, then you know what that means.)
Away to the cell phone I flew like a flash;
I dialed tech support and broke out in a rash.

The sales pitch that played while on hold I waited
Ensured my tech guy would be roundly berated.
That is, if he ever should come on the line.
And for this, per minute, it’s one-ninety-nine!

“Good evening,” he said, in a Punjab accent,
“I am happy to help you, and my name is Kent.”
More rapid than the Concorde was his troubleshoot,
I was back up and running, after one last reboot!

“Now Gaiman! Now, Atwood! Now, Cheever and Austen!
Salinger! O’Connor! Shakespeare and Augusten (Burroughs)!
Don’t withhold your wisdom! Upon me, bestow it!
Inspire me! Show me how best not to blow it!”

To their books I turned for some worthy advice;
I was pumped to return to my work in a trice.
So across clacking keyboard my fingers they flew,
With a speed and a passion—and no typos, too.

Hour after hour, the prose kept on flowing,
Though I had no idea where my story was going.
“But write it, I must!” I decided right then.
I resolved to see this project through to the end.

At one a.m. the second act came together,
At two I knew this book was better than ever!
My hero had purpose, my plot had no slack.
I cut my “B” story and never looked back!

I got up to make coffee at quarter to three;
Curses! My spouse left no Starbucks for me!
With instant crystals I’d have to make do.
Cripes! He used all of the half and half, too!

“I could add some Kahlua,” I told myself.
“There’s a big, honking bottle right there on the shelf.”
So I added a splash. And then a splash more.
At five, I finally came to on the floor.

With more Kahlua than coffee in the cup nearby,
An idea for the third act I wanted to try.
Werewolves! In high school! And vampires, as well!
It worked for that Meyer chick, my book’s a sure sell!

I tied up the plot in a neat little a bow,
With the arrival of aliens, and giant worms from below.
Defeated were foes of the Earth and the sky,
And thousands of townsfolk did not have to die.

With the Kahlua bottle all but drained,
I turned to do the last bit of work that remained.
To this one tradition, I was happy to bend.
Two carriage returns, all in caps: THE END.

To Facebook I sprang, to announce I was through.
From thence, on to Twitter, and MySpace too.
But lo, I exclaimed as my face met the sun,
“Twenty-four days late, my NaNoWriMo is done!”

In today’s Publetariat Dispatch, author L.J. Sellers ponders the wider implications of donating ‘a portion of proceeds’ from book sales to charity.

A news story this week asked “Is ABC Going to Far in Covering Robin Roberts Illness?” The journalist was speculating about whether the network’s “concern” had crossed the line into exploitation in an attempt to boost ratings.

It’s a very fine line and a subject I’ve been thinking about a lot lately because it applies to authors, charity, and book sales. Many authors have donated the profit, or part of the profit, of a new book to charity, typically a charity or medical cause that corresponds with a theme in the story. And in doing so, they boost their sales and visibility.

On the surface, this seems noble, and we did it on the Crime Fiction Collective blog when the tornado tore apart Joplin Missouri. We all donated all of our profits during a certain time period to a Joplin family, who was very grateful for the help. I even think it was my idea.

But the more I ponder this trend, the more I believe that for myself, charity needs to be separate from commerce. Any donation I make should be done out of compassion and goodwill alone—without profiting from it directly through increased sales.

But why not accomplish both things at once, when it seems so expedient? I’m not sure I can articulate why I’ve come to feel this way. Except that rooting for your book to sell is a completely different emotion and experience than sending money to help others in need—perhaps even a contradictory one.

I understand why authors do this. Their hearts are in the right place. And the readers who buy those books are even more commendable. They’re figure they’re going to spend money on books anyway, so why not make a donation to charity at the same time?

Many businesses also run these campaigns. A pizza parlor down the street often donates part of its one-day profits to a charity, school, or foundation. Everybody wins.

And I understand what ABC is trying to accomplish: educate viewers, raise money for medical research, and boost its ratings. But has it gone too far? Probably. Charities are by definition nonprofit, and raising money for, or donating to, a cause without directly profiting from the effort seems more noble. Yet goodwill results naturally from generosity, so indirect benefits are inevitable, but they’re not the same as direct profit.

I’m not saying it’s wrong for authors to connect their books to a charity. It’s just not something I’m comfortable doing myself. But I’m probably in the minority here. What do you think?

 

This is a reprint from L.J. Sellers’ blog.

 

In today’s Publetariat Dispatch, author Zoe Winters talks about the challenges of maintaining an online presence while also maintaining a professional distance from readers.

I think one of the things I’ve tried to express (often unwell) is that blogs, twitter, facebook, goodreads, etc. have started to cause problems for the author/reader relationship. Before the Internet, there was distance. I think probably on both sides (authors and readers) we didn’t realize the value of that distance until we stopped having it.

Ideally I should read a book and have my own private experience with that book. If I want to talk to some friends about it, that’s totally normal. But traditionally the author and the reader have stayed in their separate corners. (Aside from things like fan mail, but you know what I’m saying… I hope.) Books are magic. Nothing kills magic faster than TMI.

Unfortunately… most authors do NOT get special training in this. We do trial and error until we figure it out. Some authors are able to maintain a sort of social closeness with their readers with no problem because they are never controversial or highly opinionated. (Though how that is possible for a writer, I have no idea. We write because we feel COMPELLED to write. There are some pretty strong emotions fueling that IMO.) It’s not natural for me to not have strong opinions. So, in truth, I’d rather keep a professional distance than be inauthentic. It’s also too much energy to be inauthentic but too much drama and cost to be authentic. At least with strangers on the Internet. Friends both IRL and online are a different matter.

For a long time I’ve largely avoided following anybody whose fiction I read mainly because I want to be able to read and enjoy their fiction untainted by their personal views about anything. I come to them for a story. I don’t care about their politics or their religion or their hobbies or any opinion they have about anything really. I know that sounds mean but I don’t mean it that way. (And by the same token, probably no reader of my fiction cares about my thoughts/views on any of that.)

Our culture has a fascination with celebrity and TMI. So we break down all these sane barriers and instead of just wanting a book, we want a book and to know what our favorite author’s favorite color is. Even while holding this opinion I’ve still been the author who overshares. I don’t know why.

Now I feel like it’s my responsibility to protect the reader experience by not ranting and raving about every subject under the sun because I want a reader to be able to read my work untainted by something they may disagree with me on that has nothing to do with my fiction. Or… who may not like my “tone”. Personality clashes are real. Why should it harm someone’s experience of fiction?

I’ve always been better about this on my other pen name. It’s easier to start out with the right habits or break bad habits early on than it is to live in a pattern for several years and then try to break it. Nevertheless I HAVE succeeded for over a year at not running around to other people’s blogs and commenting/getting into debates. I do lurk on a lot of blogs, but I never comment anymore. If I can do that, I can do this. I think it’s important, because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter if you agree or disagree with my opinions on anything. What matters is the fiction. I want you to be able to read it without ambivalence because one time I stepped on a hot button topic of yours.

I feel I owe the reader a good story, but I also owe the reader the space to be able to read that story without extra crap layered on top of the experience. In the past I believed that if I didn’t “go to them” and bother them in their own spaces that that was enough. But we all have natural curiosity, so people are going to come to my blog or my twitter or my facebook. When they do, it’s still my job to not do anything to interfere with their experience of story.

Zoe Winters is a business and a brand. It’s not “me”. Projecting too much of me into it can only be bad for everyone.

 

This is a reprint from The Weblog of Zoe Winters.

 

In today’s Publetariat Dispatch, author Peg Brantley shares her experiences in making the transition from “writer” to “author”.

This post, by Peg Brantley, originally appeared on the Crime Fiction Collective blog and is reprinted here in its entirety with that site’s permission.

When I slid over to the serious side of writing in 2004 and began learning a little bit about the craft, it became necessary to suck “Id” up and let other people read the words I’d written. The wait was terrible as my critique partners made their way through what was certainly mangled and bruised and very purple-y colored prose.

 

Fast-forward eight years to the beginning of 2012 when my first novel was published. I was torn between wanting everyone to read it and hoping no one would. People who knew me and had certain expectations of my abilities would read my book—and I would no longer be able to fool them. They would shake their heads at how easily they’d been conned. Publishing a book that proved I was not really as talented as I pretended was a very different way to come out of the intellectual closet. Almost as bad was the thought that complete strangers would read my novel and pass judgment on me within minutes. They wouldn’t even give themselves a chance to get to know the phony me. The angst loomed so large that I questioned any positive comments believing they were merely politely phrased pity.

So now, here I am, less than two weeks away from the release date for novel number two, The Missings. (No, I don’t write that fast. This was a manuscript that was written prior to Red Tide. I just needed to go back and apply things I’d learned.) I’m sure I’m going to disappoint some people who have been waiting for a series. (Go figure. I guess they did like the book.) I’m using the same fictional town but different characters. I’m going to disappoint some people who expect another thriller. Number two is a police procedural. And there’s only one dog in it and he’s not exactly in the spotlight. (Red Tide has some hero-dogs.)

The angst began early for this one and it’s building. I’ve sent the book out to beta readers. Their feedback came in and when there were pages and pages without comment I was sure they were bored and had skipped entire scenes. I had lost the pace or the story or whatever and therefore, I lost a reader. Never mind that I asked my enlisted volunteers to watch for that sort of thing in particular. Never mind that they told me they loved those pages. I was convinced I was doomed.

The next item on the agenda was a professional edit from Jodie Renner (who was a joy to work with, by the way). It’s now been formatted for Kindle, has been endorsed and reviewed and soon it will be time for that huge and final, no-going-back step. The step that requires me to jump off a cliff and knit wings on the way down.

The step requires me to trust the process. Trust that my meshing of words will find the audience they were meant to find. Trust that my book will provide as much entertainment as the next authors. Trust that I will live to take another breath and write another book and have the wonderful opportunity to be just as unsure about everything all over again.

Whatever it is you do in your life, if you feel moments where you are vulnerable and scared, then you’re doing something significant. It might be as large as saving thousands of lives, or as small as writing a book that gives people a few hours of escape into someone else’s life.

I’ve come to embrace my angst. Well, sort of. But I’ve pretty much concluded that if the angst leaves entirely, it might be time to move on.

How about you? Are you ever filled with angst? Or a little bit of dread? I’d sure love to have some company.

 

Peg Brantley’s debut thriller, RED TIDE, has found its way into the hands of more than 35,000 readers in the six months since its publication. THE MISSINGS, a police procedural, will be available soon.

 

In today’s Publetariat Dispatch L.J. Sellers, author of the bestselling Detective Jackson mysteries, addresses the appeal of antiheroes in fiction.

Alcoholics, sex addicts, porn stars, thieves, and kidnappers. In today’s crime fiction, these characters are often the protagonists, and as a reader, I’m expected to root for them. I rarely can. I’ve put down many well-written and well-plotted novels lately because the main character was not someone I could relate to.

For example, in one story, the protagonist—a reformed criminal, living a good life—participated in a kidnapping to keep himself from going to jail. If I had not been reading the book for discussion, I would have put it down immediately. For me, there was little point in reading about a protagonist I wanted to see caught and punished, especially since I knew he would not be.

In another story, the character was well developed, resourceful, and good-hearted and I really wanted to like her. But the world she inhabited was sleazy and everyone she encountered gave me the creeps. Despite the terrific writing, I finally gave up, because spending too much time in her world was a little hard to take.

Don’t get me wrong. I love crime fiction! And I’m certainly not a prude. I write a mystery/suspense series, and the first book is called The Sex Club. My main character is a homicide detective who’s a hardworking family man. Not perfect, by any means, but he’s also not a cynical, pill-popping alcoholic with dysfunctional relationships. I’m tired of that cop stereotype, and I want my character to be someone readers can relate to.

But it’s not a clear-cut issue. Two of my favorite books last year had protagonists who were criminals…or at least they had been. In Beat the Reaper, the main character is an ex-hit man who becomes a doctor. But he’s trying to redeem himself, and it’s a terrific (and often funny) story. The Lock Artist, another novel I loved, is about a psychologically mute safecracker. But the reader knows from the beginning that Michael goes to jail and hopes to change his life. So I rooted for both characters all the way.

For me, good characterization for a protagonist, especially a recurring character, means creating someone readers will care about, like, and/or respect in some way. (I make an exception for Elmore Leonard’s stories, in which everyone is shady, but often likeable, and I can always cheer for a charming thief, especially if he’s played by George Clooney.)

I realize I may be somewhat alone in this thinking. In my book discussion groups, many other readers say they don’t have to like the protagonist to find the story compelling.

How do you feel about protagonists who are unlikable, deeply flawed, or simply not someone you’d ever spend time with? Does it spoil the story for you? Can you name a novel you thoroughly enjoyed even though you didn’t like the protagonist?

 

This is a reprint from the Crime Fiction Collective blog, and is reprinted here in its entirety with that site’s permission.