PV Lundqvist

Tales From An Indie Author: the 99c Update

2011-12-29T08:42:00.000-05:00

What started as a summer special has extended into fall, now winter. My book at 99c.

The result?At first, not much. A few more sales but not enough to offset the price. In other words, selling more but making less.Yet this experiment was never about money. I was sacrificing profit for sales ranking. Hoping to reach more readers.

Then, in December, the book started to sell like crazy. Five times the sales of previous months. At a guess, the introduction of Kindle Fire was spurring a lot more reading. More of my books, anyway.

Amazon has since launched a free library to Prime subscribers. A Netflix for books. A set sum is divvied up by ones percentage of total borrowed books and voila, payment.Costs nothing for the customer, and I get paid? Sweet!

What did Amazon ask in return? Exclusivity. I'd have to withdraw my book from distribution from a half dozen other e-retailers.

Oh.

What to do?

Lets see, what do the facts say? In the time it's taken to write this post, I've sold more books on Amazon than all the other distributers combined. All year.

Yeah, I'll give it a try Amazon.

Sure, there is no guarantee that ANYONE will borrow my book. Could be Prime people only read name authors. That's the chance I take. But being an indie author is all about taking risks. Putting oneself out there.So if you, or someone you know, has a desire to purchase Not Just For Breakfast Anymore on anything other than a Kindle, do it fast. By the beginning of the year it'll be an Amazon exclusive.

Tales From An Indie Author: .99c Books

2011-09-15T08:31:00.000-04:00

Established authors have been quick to dismiss the trend, but let me tell you about this poor man's marketing plan. Instead of advertising dollars chasing potential profits, 99c IS the advertisement.

Free advertisement.

Take, for instance, a 2k advertising buy. You sell 1k books at a profit margin of $2. Oh look. You break even.

Or you sell 500. Lose money. Or get NOTHING.

Instead you drop the price to .99c. Sell 1k books, and instead of $2,000 you get $400. Did that really cost you $1600 or, like me, would you have not sold near that many anyway? Not Just for Breakfast Anymore was priced at .99c for the summer. The result? A modest, but definite increase in sales, and now NJFBA is in the top fifty in its categories, if not top twenty.

Price is a superior marketing tool versus ad buys (when time is an abundant resource, which is the only thing indies reliably have). You only pay for marketing that results in sales.

Now you've all heard the blog blather about the 99c price line demeaning the value of the work (like anything has inherent worth) and 'creates a race to the bottom' (again, no. Books, like water, seek their own level) Competition doesn't reduce wages to zero—try finding a free gardener.

And indies can always raise the price once there's demand. Being able to control these aspects is what gives independent publishing its appeal.

As far as I'm concerned, dissing the 99c millionaires is a millionaires game. Easy to say from on top of a pile of money.

Tales From an Indie Author: The Audio Book

2011-08-17T08:43:00.000-04:00

Today, Not Just for Breakfast Anymore launches as a serialized audio book. Narrated by me.

Becoming your own recording studio is no easier than becoming your own publisher, let me tell you. It involves learning a whole new craft — I've developed a big respect for voice over talent. Those guys earn their keep.

What I Did

I got a microphone, sealed off part of the house, and started to record in Garage Band (free with Macs). Think you know your book? Try reading it out loud. What's obvious in print is no longer there in audio.

I used royalty-free sound effects and stock music clips. Again, trying to lower costs to just time spent.

I flubbed words all over the place. Re-recording led to levels being off. Thank god for the app Levelator!

Where I Did

Podiobooks. The learning curve, for a novice like me, felt like a putting a puzzle together. In the dark. Missing pieces.

Don't get me wrong, Podiobooks is used to newbies like me and emailed detailed instructions. Pages. But they don't hand hold. Be prepared to cobble together your own process. Again, this is like learning a whole new craft. It can be done with minimal cost and programs that are free to you. You just have to really want to do it.

Why I Did

Audio books have been the launchpad for many an indie. If nothing else, it is another avenue for prospective readers to find my work. Besides, it was fun.

In addition to my book, check out the others at Podiobooks. Books are free, though donations are appreciated. The quality is fantastic and there's something there for anyone's taste.

Read First Chapter—Free!

2011-07-01T09:00:00.003-04:00

For a short time, I've lowered the ebook price of Not Just For Breakfast Anymore to $.99. Calling it July madness. Or potty training weekend. Whatevs.

Pay a buck to Amazon, and they give you a penny back.

How can you beat that?

Happy Summer.

Not Just For Breakfast Anymore: a Kid Review

2011-06-28T07:55:00.001-04:00

I liked this story a lot. It was funny and had fun things going on.

12 year old Logan. Read the rest here.
I really enjoy kid-reader reviews the best. So genuine. So the reason I wrote the book in the first place.

Thanks to Heck of a Bunch blog for the review, and check out their other posts — well worth a look.

Tales From An Indie Author: Advertising

2011-06-20T09:00:00.001-04:00

Doing business without advertising is like winking at a girl in the dark. You know what you are doing, but nobody else does. ~Steuart Henderson Britt

So you've written a book. What now? Tell people about it! That, my friends, is advertising. Specifically, today, I'm talking about PAID advertising.

Catalog Listing

My book, NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE, was printed by Lightning Source and I advertised in the Ingram catalog (The one they send out to bookstores).

My sales were disappointing, but I was only offering a 35% discount (I've since learned that 40% to 50% is a minimum enticement for bookstores). Next time I will price my print book to accommodate this discount. We'll see.

Goodreads

GR recommends linking back in their ads to their site to create a buzz (discussion + internal links (TBR)). This does not necessarily result in sales. So I also tried linking directly to Amazon.

My findings? Good return on investment, but surprisingly more on the print side. Ebooks are usually an easier lift for an indie than traditional books. Mine sell that way, ten to one. But that could be because of the demo of GR's more than anything else. Next time I will devote more resources for GR's ads. Didn't try Facebook ads, but will next time.

Kindle Nation

A must try. Best ROI. Also, the most expensive. Their audience of dedicated ebook buyers is exposure you need. Together with their family of affiliate sites, there is a place for your book somewhere. I had my best luck with their daily kindle sponsorship, some with their ipad ad, and to a lesser extent with their weekly newsletter (though that could be advertising fatigue, it ran last).

Google Ads
I took their free money (trial) and ran a campaign alternating print book ads and ebook. Nada. Zippo. I just don't think that Google ads—as currently set up—are well suited to selling books; the profit is so slim that their low-priced ads generally get pushed too far back to be seen regularly.

Other Ads
No luck with static book ads on well-traveled book review sites. This might just be me, but I've yet to hear different from anyone else.

Kindle in the Wind styles itself like Kindle Nation, but at a much cheaper price. My experience is that it updates irregularly (and only listed my book for twelve hours instead of twenty-four). When my original ad failed to run at the appointed time, their customer service was underwhelming.

What I've Learned

My takeaway from this first campaign is to focus on advertising to ebook buyers. That's the driver of indie success. Hello Amanda Hocking! McQuestion anyone? My next book will be more geared to that demo. And now that I know of proven performers in advertising, I'll be able to make better use of my marketing dollars.

How about you? Any lessons learned you'd like to share?

Daughter's First Concert. With a Boy.

2011-05-09T08:08:00.000-04:00

My fourteen year old daughter went to a concert. With a boy.

And I drove.

Daddy panic. Yeah, I had it.

To start with, the band is called My Chemical Romance. Perhaps you've sung along to such titles as "Thank you for The Venom", "Kill All Your Friends", and "Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us."

I'm not making any of these up.

Don't get me wrong, I was a scarer of parents from way back. My poison was Alice Cooper with his faked suicides and songs about blowing schools to pieces.

Let's just say that karma took it's sweet time, but she finally showed up.

But if I was worried about these two kids trysting in a mosh pit, the conversation between them during the ride calmed my nerves.

She: You're a butt.
He: No, you're a butt.
She: Are you calling me a butt?

They're both butts.

Before dropping them off, there is a moment for a dad to address the boy who will be escorting his daughter for the evening.

Mine was this: "Anything happens to my daughter, and there's no mark on you, I'll fix that. Got it?"

We bumped knuckles.

We cool.

The Difference Between Two and Eleven

2011-03-03T07:38:00.002-05:00

Walking along the side of the road...

Gummybear (2 years old): Car!
Me: Yes, honey. A car.
Gummybear: Car!
Me: Yes, honey. A car.
Dusty (eleven): Car!
Me: Yes, honey. A car.
Dusty: No, really. It's going to hit you.

Tales From an Indie Author: Pubit Edition

2011-02-25T08:19:00.003-05:00

My ebook distribution for Not Just For Breakfast Anymore has mainly been through Smashwords. Upload the file once, they put it through what they call the 'meatgrinder' and off to edistributors it goes. Format is a bit wonky—that could just be my ineptitude—and sales reporting is sporadic. What this distribution gains in simplicity, it loses in control.

And we indie authors sure love us some control. Huzzah!

So when Barnes and Noble started up a (similar to Amazon) DIY publishing option, called Pubit!, that was very indie friendly, you'd think I'd put on my top hat and brandish my publishing six gun. But I didn't. There was the bother, and I, frankly, like SW and it's founder Mark Coker. He has such a great attitude about this new age of publishing. Still, it bothered me that the formating was a bit off and there was no seeming way for me to fix it.

Then I read a couple of entries by indies indicating that going directly with B&N could triple sales—that pushed me over the decision ledge.

That's three more sales, people. *grin*

Besides, I'd had much better success at other e-venues, it was a point of pride to do whatever I could to increase my visibility at B&N.

Pubit has a very friendly interface, accepts all manner of submission formats (which they then convert to epub for free), and you get to preview the file in a virtual Nook before submission. My book looked great. B&N also advises that one download the newly converted epub and view it in Adobe Digital Editions, the gold standard of epub viewing. Looked great. Even on my Nook App for Iphone. Win all around.

My victory lap was to view my book on an in-store Nook. If you haven't held one in your hand, it is a gorgeous ereader. Hell, I was thinking about putting my book on EVERY Nook in the store. Can't be shy about selling when the marketing department is only you. So there I was, surrounded by customers, clerks, stacks of the best books in the world, and I loaded my novel on the display Nook.

Face fell. The format was....screwy.

Gah! it was like everyone was looking at me and my embarrassing mistake! I fled from the store. Top hat deflated.

I couldn't figure it out. I followed the directions—perhaps my freeware conversion was the problem? I went back to the Pubit site and noticed that under 'conversion instructions' for submitting a Word doc, they stipulated the use of only three fonts. I had used internet friendly fonts, but not the recommended ones.

Back to the file, changeroonie, upload. Check in Adobe Digital Editions—fine. Go back to B&N store...Gah! screwy!

Then I adjusted the text for size and realized that there were a bunch of font choices on the Nook, including setting to publisher's default. That fixed everything. Perhaps there never was a problem—I may never know—but it goes to show you how much work is involved in being an indie author.

Happy Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T08:57:00.000-05:00

Gummy bear hopes it's very sweet.

Even the cat laughed at me

2011-02-13T08:44:00.001-05:00

Cats are so stupid. Climbing up things that they can't climb down from.

So, last night, the smoke detector started beeping. Battery, more than likely. The problem was that this detector is on the ceiling, with only a small ledge to reach it from.

It's ten pm; I don't want to disturb anyone — I'm limber. I built a platform of chairs and step stool, and climbed right up and changed the battery.

Looked down.

Boy, did I ever want to meow.

Wondering Why Baby Can't Sleep

2011-01-27T08:49:00.000-05:00

Now that baby lives in the woods, he misses the sounds of the city. So we got him a sound machine.

It goes: Do Dee Dum, Do Dee Dum.

After he got a cough, we got him a vaporizer.

It goes: Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

He misses the lighting from the streetlights, so we got him a night light. Hey, why not two?

So when baby couldn't sleep the other night, I entered his room.

Do Dee Dum! Whoosh, whoosh! Do Dee Dum! I read baby Goodnight Moon by night light.

I don't know why baby can't sleep.

Maybe he misses the night life? Next week I'm installing a disco ball.

Book Reviewed Over at Insatiable Readers

2011-01-26T12:08:00.000-05:00

"From the quirky cover art (did you see the little guy flying through the air by the title?) to the final scenes, it'll keep you turning pages"

Gina at IR made this her first book review commemorating National No Name-Calling Week. I can see why: A bully figures prominently in Not Just For Breakfast Anymore.

Insatiable Readers does a wide variety of book reviews. You really should check them out.

Blogger Awards: Handing out a Little Shine

2011-01-21T09:21:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I go big on blogger awards, or I go home.

I've received this award a couple of times and, honesty time, didn't quite get it. What the award was for, why it was given. Over think. Over think. Finally, the synapses connected: It's a compliment, PV, just go with it.

So I've decided to give out my own, to readers of this blog whom I believe are versatile (do more than one thing) and are a bit undiscovered and deserve a little shine.

In no particular order:

M.J.A. Ware. He's an aspiring middle grade author like me. So already he has my empathy. Blogs about writing (his and others). Check him out.

Tracy Sharp. An established writer, she blogs about everything: music, writing, family. Her post about searching for truth really got to me. Her books are on my TBR pile.

Anne R. Allen. When she posts about writing, pay attention. She's spot on—all the time. I haven't read anything by her, yet, but I know it will be good.

Donna Perugini. Just look at her illustrations. Cutest. Ever. Blogs from a Christian perspective and is great about interacting with her readership.

I am a Reader Not a Writer. That says it all. Kathy does book reviews, conducts giveaways (she's the one who wrangled me into that blog hop a while ago.) Her enthusiasm for books is infectious.

Melissa Getting Published. That's her aim, but her blog is so much more. Though she's the last on this list, she was the first person I thought of for the award. She posts about 'cool words that they make you type when you want to leave a comment', the mechanics of writing, Komodo dragons, her followers, everything. Versatile.

So these are my six. Why six? Because that's the number.

Nobody knows, the trouble I've seen....

2011-01-05T11:30:00.000-05:00

To Santa, or not to Santa?

2010-12-22T11:52:00.000-05:00

My toddler's not old enough to say 'Santa', but he's seen him: in the mall, in videos, as an ornament hanging from the (now fake) Christmas tree. Soon I'm going to have to deal with the Santa question: do I tell him he's real or what?

Sure, I have history with this. There I was, maybe two-and-a-half, and in the perfect Santa belief bubble. All the kids around me believed, no older siblings to spill the beans. Then what happened? My grandparents, of all people. "PV, you know there's no such thing as Santa, right?" All my parents could do was blush and look away.

Consequently, I have a love/hate relationship with Saint Nick. Love having him around, but don't like the confabulation around explaining how he can go to everybody's house in a single night. Once the kids learn math, it's all over. Or how about this: Why doesn't Santa deliver to little Jewish or Muslim kids? Get past that, and eventually a rogue third-grader is going to point a stubby finger at your kid and utter those devastating words: "baby still believes in Santa!" Then, your kid comes back to you. Accusingly. I don't want to deal with that. That's the thing with saying that Santa is real, eventually the truth will come out.

Now, maybe that's just my experience. Perhaps other kids can believe and then let Santa go like a disused binky, without any fuss. I don't know.

Yet, I continue to love Santa as a character of Christmas. What he represents. So much so, I've written stories for my children featuring the the jelly-belly elf. I don't want Christmas to be sanitized of Santa.

Where do you come down on the Santa question?

Of Giveaways and Tradeaways

2010-12-21T08:17:00.000-05:00

For those who didn't win my last giveaway (that would be 99% of you), Karen Mcquestion is kindly hosting one for me right now. I'll put it to you this way: your chances are pretty good if you enter—just leave a comment over at her blog. Organic Enchilada, I'm looking your way.

Check out Karen's books while you're there.

As for me, Christmas took a sad turn. The poor Gummybear has been coughing and rashing for weeks now. The doc said it was probably caused by something recently introduced into the environment. Oh, I don't know, like a spruce Christmas tree? Yeah, getting rid of the evergreen just before Christmas was killer. Luckily, we knew someone who was jonesing for a real tree and traded us for an artificial one.

I miss the smell of real pine in the house at Christmas time, but I much prefer having a happy toddler. That's a trade I'd make, any day.

The Talk

2010-12-18T10:39:00.000-05:00

There's a time when a dad has to have that 'talk' with his growing son. His body's changing and hair is growing in embarrassing places. *ahem* I imagined the conversation would go something like this:

"Hey, you're stinky. Your mother and sister don't like it. So shower, will you?"

Come to find out, the women had been beating him with the smelly stick all week—pretty good. Threatening to run him through a soapy Slip 'n Slide like a human car wash. Inviting the neighbors over and handing out sponges. Uploading the video to Youtube.* You know, sensitive stuff like that.

Dusty hasn't discovered girls, yet. For me, at least, that was the start of the every-day showering and the mastery of the hair dryer. Developing mad ninja skills with a stick of deodorant just followed from there.

I explained to him that unless he wanted to be confused with a homeless person, he was going to have to fake the whole civilization thing: wearing clean clothes, brushing his hair, and showering. Let go of the babyhood, and embrace adulthood.

I don't think that one 'talking to' will fix everything. As that wise shampoo bottle imparted to me, so many years ago when I was first learning to impress the fifth grade girls: lather, rinse, repeat.

* I might be exaggerating. A lot.

Gratitude Giveaway Winner is Picked!

2010-11-29T09:00:00.006-05:00

I'm so excited, my first giveaway. I rented a billboard in Time Square for the occasion.

Yeah, my marketing budget was huge on this one.

And now...

*drum roll*

Winner is Taffy! Expect an email asking where you want me to send a copy of NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE. Congratulations.

And for everyone else: thanks for entering. I've gone over to every one of your blogs and I'm hoping to get to know all of you in the coming weeks. I love talking books!

Dew the Deed

2010-11-19T08:40:00.000-05:00

You know you've joked about it. One kid did it:

[Boy] tired of having his Mountain Dew stolen by a bully, filled the MD bottle in his backpack with urine and then watched in delight as the bully greedily helped himself to a big bottle.

Way to go, right?

Now the bully's family is threatening to sue. Over being a big dummy, I suppose? Just desserts had too much awesome sauce on top?

What?

I'm Doing a Gratitude Giveaway!

2010-11-16T23:59:00.009-05:00

Welcome to my first giveaway! And blog hop! Can you tell I'm excited?!

To be eligible, all you have to do is be a follower of my blog and leave a comment on this post. That's it! You are then automatically entered to win a free copy of my book, Not Just for Breakfast Anymore.

Winner will be chosen the day after the giveaway ends on November 28. I'm thinking by the Gummybear, and on video. Yeah, I'm definitely Youtubing it.

And remember to hop to all the other participating blogs, as well. I know I will. That's over one hundred and fifty chances to win books!

Interview

2010-11-09T10:14:00.001-05:00

I'm interviewed over at Authors Unleashed. It's where Teensreadtoo.com spotlights writers for books they've reviewed.

Could it be true that my own pet pig's first litter box was a broiling pan? Check it out.

Dusty says, "Hey, Gummybear, come be with the guys."

2010-10-27T08:53:00.000-04:00

Hostess Glo Balls; a Scientific Inquiry

2010-10-21T11:04:00.000-04:00

Today's Subject: Superhero-ed Sno Balls

Usually Sno Balls are pink or white; colors frequently associated with twelve-year-old girls bathrooms. These are green—have Green Lantern (a superhero) on the box—and are called Glo Balls. Glowing green is a color usually associated with plutonium rods inside nuclear reactors.

Today's investigation: Are they truly a dessert for cadets of the intergalactic police force?

First fact: they don't really glo(w). Any and all luminosity was achieved via a flash. (Please note this refers to a camera flash and not a super hero by that same name.)

First bite analysis: coconut sprinkles, marshmallow outer covering, inside is chocolate cake with creme filling. Just like a Sno Ball. Burp had a mildly plastic aftertaste, almost waxy. Subject does not feel super powered.

Conclusion: They are just Sno Balls painted green.

Per FFC regulations, this post requires a disclaimer: Product was self-purchased and no compensation was received from Hostess or the Green Lantern Corp. Ingredients include 'beef fat' and should not be consumed by vegans or those allergic to fat or beef. Or glowing things.

Hostess and Green Lantern are trademarks of their respective multi-million dollar conglomerates. Whom, I'm sure, have excellent senses of humor.

Not Just For Breakfast Anymore breaks into top 100!

2010-10-16T20:06:00.000-04:00

My book, for a shiny second, crept up into Amazon's Top 100 children's ebooks. Number 96. Yay!

Dusty's Homework

2010-09-23T09:34:00.000-04:00

Me: What's your homework?
Dusty: Take a picture from the Internet and write sentences about it. *reads* A declarative, exclamatory, and interrogative.
Me: Be careful, there's dirty pictures on the Internet.
Dusty: But that would be easy: She has no clothes on. Wow! Does her mother know?

Back to School: Butter the popcorn!

2010-09-16T12:23:00.001-04:00

Me: How about this movie? It's got Brad Pitt.
Sparkly: Saw it.
Me: Where?
Sparkly: Social Studies.
Me: It's based on a work of fiction. Involving gods and goddesses.
Sparkly: Yeah, wicked boring.
Me: How 'bout this one? It's got Chihuahuas...
Sparkly: Saw it. Spanish class.
Me: At school again? When did this happen?
Sparkly: Same week my class took a field trip to Taco Bell.
Me: *sigh*
Dusty: I saw all six Star Wars movies in school. It was awesome!

Coming out of the closet

2010-09-07T11:34:00.000-04:00

The walls to my bedroom are now Ripe Apricot. And at three am, the orangey paint fumes set off the fire alarm.

Did you know that could happen? I didn't.

The waa-waa of the smoke detectors lifted me out of bed. The room was the dark of closed eyelids. Thinking it may be a fire, I grabbed the door knob—it wouldn't turn. I turned around and bumped into a wall, turned again into another wall. Like I was in a small box. I found the doorknob again—still wouldn't twist. It was like every nightmare you ever had.

The light came on. I was in the closet.

TeensReadToo.com reviewed my book

2010-09-03T07:51:00.000-04:00

A fun, realistic fiction story about a boy and his pig. The characters are well-developed, the plot is unique and keeps the reader’s interest in unique ways.

A nice review of my book, you should check it out. Thanks Teensreadtoo.com. And drop by their book blog while you're at it.

What happened to losing?

2010-08-22T13:46:00.000-04:00

I began playing organized basketball in the fourth grade. But the basketball experiences that shaped me much more were the pickup games played on the courts in the center of town. The action there was intense, yet there was never an adult in sight. We kids ran the show. Boston Globe Sunday Magazine

I don't remember as a kid, in a game of street hockey, having problems with dads beating the crap out of each other—like you hear now. Or cheating. If Johnny played dirty, he didn't play, okay? No appeals to the league, meetings. No adults required. And it wasn't that we weren't competitive. I had a poster the size of my wall of Bobby Orr scoring the winning goal in the Stanley Cup series of 1970. I was into hockey.

Now, when I entered high school and I was made to compete, I rebelled. You can put me in the outfield, and threaten me with not graduating, but you can't make me chase after the ball. Talk about killing the joy of the game. Gym coaches were the prison guards of my scholastic experience. Then, after school, I would play Wiffle ball until the street lights came on.

What's the difference? The kids were in charge. We self-organized.

The other day, I was having a tire replaced. The owner of the shop called a distributor, asked for delivery and ended the conversation this way: "I didn't foul you. I rebounded it fair and square." That bounce of the ball occurred fifty years ago. In high school. Still couldn't let it go. I bet there was a real shiny reward at stake.

Yet, I couldn't tell you if any game of street hockey stood out. Except one: we played a bunch of middle-aged men in a pick up game. Our youth against their experience. Man, did they rub it in when they won. We were stunned. That's not how we played. We hip-checked each other and apologized later, and congratulated the winner (good game, good game), assured that it could probably be us next time.

I remember playing just for a win, not a trophy. The stakes were low. Now everyone gets a trophy, and I'm guessing the kids aren't fooled with this award inflation. If one trophy is the problem, how are more trophies the solution? Who introduced trophies in the first place? My guess is not someone ten years old.

I'm wondering if taking adults out of kids' games is the answer. Along with the shiny.

Diary of a Dadurday

2010-08-07T10:08:00.000-04:00

7:05 I can hear baby babble. Why is his mother still sleeping?

7:07 Oh, yeah. It's Dadurday: The day mom sleeps in.

7:08 Coffee!

7:09 What's does Gummybear eat? Hey, honey...oops.

7:10 I remember a mushy bowl of...stuff. Like a paste. Flour?

7:11 *snaps fingers* Babies drink milk. Yeah, that's what they do.

7:12 Where are the sippy cups? Hey, honey...oops.

7:13 More coffee!

7:14 It's been hours.

7:15 There goes a banana. Now what do I do?

7:16 Baby is banging on the bedroom door.

7:17 No instructions written anywhere.

7:19 Still banging. Now using a block.

7:20 I wonder if she's okay?

7:21 I should go in there. And bring the baby.

7:22 *opens door* Hey, honey...oops.

I'm So Vain

2010-07-27T11:22:00.000-04:00

Ahhhh! My waistband's too tight. My God, I'm going to have to double my running miles. Cut out cupcakes. Dump the extreme buttered popcorn. Join a gym. Does my HMO cover liposuction? Maybe.

Oh.

Heh.

I just over cinched my belt.

This moment of vanity panic was brought to you by PV Lundqvist. For the very finest in male narcissism. Your preferred choice.

Missing my Family (on Vacation)

2010-07-22T08:56:00.000-04:00

It is untrue that I've put the kitty food bowls on the dinner table. Sent myself flowers. Washed the floor. Okay, most of those aren't true.

What is true is that I never know what to do with myself without my kids around. My natural state is being tugged on. Maybe plug in the Xbox? Nah. Call up a friend? Do I have friends without kids?

*snaps fingers* I know—finish that novel. Opens the Macbook. So where was I? Type, type, type. Hmm. All the characters are missing their families.... Closes the Macbook. Seems that 'an empty lap' and 'no squabbling' is not happy making, after all. Not conducive to productive work.

So I've spent more time at my day job—because, damn it, if I'm not going to get anything done, I want to at least appear like I'm working. Get credit.

It is also untrue that there will be dirty dishes waiting. We have a dishwasher.

One year old — still no job

2010-07-12T14:08:00.000-04:00

I put the Gummy Bear to work, today. You should have heard the complaining:

1) I can't walk yet
2) I'm only awake two hours in a row
3) I still make in my pants
4) You're making this up; I can't talk yet!

Okaaaaay, I'll give him another year. Then it's chore time. Seriously, there is nothing cuter than a two year old carrying a plate as big as their chest. Toddle, toddle, smack plate on table. Cringe. You go through a lot of dishware this way, but I make it up by buying stock in Williams-Sonoma. It evens out.

Talking to girls, when they happen to be your daughter

2010-07-05T15:14:00.001-04:00

Since the hormone fairy waved her wand over my thirteen-year-old daughter Sparkly, there's been a lot of silences. Sullen ones. Distracted ones. Oh-I-left-my-ipod-on ones. Yet you can practically hear the hum of her thoughts. They just don't seem to want to come out.

Picture it: Sparkly looks just like me. Has my personality. Should be simple, right? Just imagine what I would do, if I was a girl, and....yeah. Doesn't help. And unlike my son, Dusty—who will plop himself down on my lap and talk Legos all day long—I have to go seek out Sparkly. Find her in whatever thought-hole she might be at the time and try to coax her out. Sometimes this works. Sometimes it goes wrong.

Me: What'cha doing?
Sparkly: Making a fun quiz up.
Me: Want to try it on me?
Sparkly: If you saw a boy trying to pick up your girlfriend, would you A)....

This was not the conversation I wanted to be in. Hello, uncomfortable. And that's just it, isn't it? She's a woman and I'm a guy. In a sense, her archetypal guy. The one by which all others in her life will be measured. I didn't want to blow that responsibility. That's why I didn't want to answer the quiz. I was caught between the honest answer and the parent answer.

I'm still working out which is the better answer.

My Favorite Bookstore

2010-07-02T11:51:00.000-04:00

The Book Oasis is the only place to find autographed copies of NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE on shelf. My neighborhood bookstore, how cool is that?

Say hello to Deb and Dan for me.

And the Winner is...

2010-06-23T10:39:00.000-04:00

Our Mommyhood had its relaunch party on twitter last night. To support the event, I gave away a free copy of my book, NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE.

The winner? Not Super...Just Mom. Congratulations.

Father's Day Cards

2010-06-20T20:28:00.000-04:00

I have no words.

Flat. Tire.

2010-06-17T09:55:00.000-04:00

Towtruck Guy: Where’s your lug wrench?
Me: Back in my office.
TG: What’s it doing there?
Me: I needed an ice crusher.

Dusty at Fenway, checking out future workplace

2010-06-16T09:15:00.000-04:00

Letter from a Mom (fan)

2010-06-11T14:41:00.000-04:00

NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE

Rating: 5/5

My 4 year old son absolutely adores me reading to him, and when he saw the cover of this book, he demanded that I read it to him right away. Both of us really enjoyed the story!

He loved it because it was story of a pig. I loved it for the lessons that I've seen him learn from it, even though we only finished it a few days ago. He was deepened by my teachings of self-esteem and standing up for not only what you believe in, but for what is right. We both enjoyed the story of a young boy given a unique birthday present/pet, and how sometimes you get the things you didn't even know you needed until you received it. The story flowed so well, I didn't feel any thing was lacking in how one person got from one place to another, and the quest that our young hero took was very riveting. The time spent in the rain storm in a log was worthy of college literature class discussions on symbolism. And while I read into the book more than my son did, he loved it too. He enjoyed growing with the characters and the pig.

Now, please get him off my back about why we can't have a pet pig in our apartment!
PJ Culley

[PV: I wrote back to tell PJ's son that pigs aren't happy unless they can be outside to root and such. But I suspect that once pig-mania takes over, there's no talking a kid out of it. I also asked her to write a review of the book and post it wherever she felt comfortable.

As an aside, it's been hard to get the word out about NJFBA, I'm not published by a big publisher, no marketing money to speak of, and the major print reviewers automatically excluded my book from consideration. Very frustrating. Yet, it's letters like this that make writing the book all worth it.]

Future Engineer Works On Safer Deep Water Drilling

2010-06-09T08:10:00.000-04:00

How do you stuff an underage bikini?

2010-06-05T11:53:00.000-04:00

Kinda catches your attention, doesn't it? Even though nobody is inside. Now imagine that your thirteen year old daughter is wearing this two-piece, sluicing down the ole slip and slide. Boys galore.

Yeah.

We have to have that talk, Sparkly.

Meet the Kids

2010-05-25T12:59:00.003-04:00

Dozens of times, I've started typing a vignette about one of my kids...and I stop. The thought that goes through my head? I haven't introduced them, nobody knows who they are, blah blah, blah.

So I'll fix that. Now.

I have three children, and I'll address them by carefully chosen nom de 'nets. That I just made up this second.

My thirteen year old daughter, Sparkly.

She'd totally wear these.

Why Sparkly and not Sparkles? No stripper names for the children! That's a rule. It's fascinating to me to see my face (my mom's face) play out on an opposite gender child. Hmm. This will require a post all it's own.

A typical conversation I've had with Sparkly:

Sparkly: Papa, superman is flying low.
Papa: Bad news, so is supergirl.

Sometimes, it's like having a conversation in my head, we're so similar.

My ten year old son, Dusty.

Imagine a hundred pounds lighter, and a dirty uniform.

He wants to be Dustin Pedroia like I want to be Scott Westerfeld. Really. Badly. He also defines hero worship for me. I can do no wrong in his eyes. He makes me want to be that person he sees.

A typical conversation I've had with Dusty.

Dusty: Papa, coach says I need a cup for little league. What's a cup?
Papa: Gets awfully hot out there, in the outfield...
Mama: PV!

Yeah, I get yelled at. A lot. I misbehave more than the kids.

My (almost) one year old, Gummybear.

Actual size.

Can't walk, can't talk, but boy how happy we are when he sleeps. The boy has been afflicted by low aspiration syndrome.

Typical conversation I've had with Gummybear.

Papa: How's the little baby business today?
Gummybear: Um, gai!

He's allergic to everything except dirt. You try keeping weight on someone who can't eat dairy, wheat, or fruit.

That's the brood. From now on I'm going to be blogging about my kids, so keep this post handy. Or I just might leave a link up on the side bar. You never know.

This is a 'Crap' Post

2010-04-20T13:37:00.003-04:00

Today's kids use language that you can't find in most middle grade books. In fact, just try getting a novel into a kid's book club with realistic language. Just ask author Lauren Myracle. And don't think I'm talking about the big seven you can't say on television. I'm talking 'geez' and 'sucks, in addition to 'crap'. Am I advocating wholesale potty mouth in books? No. What I'm addressing here is conveying authenticity in fiction, not shock value. Relating to kids in their own words.

You're probably thinking that you've read far worse. Yes, and it probably was in a young adult book: something for teens and up. Even then, a publisher risks losing sales to younger teens and middle schoolers by allowing realistic language. Remember, books for this audience are still mainly bought by parents. And they don't want to buy that crap.

Two books I've read recently get around this prohibition. MAZE RUNNER takes every curse word you can imagine and invents a counterpart. So instead of crap you have klunk. There's also slinthead and shuckface. Yeah, aren't you glad they didn't curse?

LEVIATHAN accomplishes the same thing, but because it's counter factual historical fiction, well, who's to say they didn't speak differently in this alternate universe?

Both books are creative in expressing emotion in dialogue (hello, that's what swears are for) without waking the censors. Still, it's a dodge. Kids will notice the difference. And, one day, nine-year-olds will be able to order books like they order up a video on Youtube. You watch.

So as much as I don't want kids cussing like longshoremen, reading a book about dystopian death camps and having the protagonist say 'oh crud', just doesn't cut it. Because, in the twenty-first century, kid-readers won't have to put up with that crap.

Not Just For Breakfast Anymore: Reviewed

2010-03-30T13:34:00.004-04:00

Jandy, of Jandysbooks.com, reviewed my book. "P.V. Lundqvist has written a wonderful book for the younger middle school aged boy."

Check it out.

Bullies

2010-02-24T13:26:00.003-05:00

Ever been afraid to go to school? I have.

My bully's name was Dipper, and he liked to strike in the locker room after gym class. Thinking back, it was minor stuff: comments, throwing towels into running showers—that sort of thing. Back then, it seemed so huge. Affected my whole day. Week, even. I would ask myself, what was I going to do? Tell a teacher? That would be 'telling'. Fight him? He never laid a hand on me.

How I wish I could go back to tell my 12 year old self what to do.

Teaching our kids how to deal with bullies, whether the push-you-around kind, or the get-in-your-head variety, is more important than ever. Now a school yard taunt can evolve into a viral video on Youtube. What a bully says can now go around the world.

Oh, and what ever happened to my bully? Dipper? He's a taxidermist now. Yeah.... And, boy, has he ever shrunk. One day I should tell him he inspired the bully I put in my book. Maybe the next time I need a toilet bowl shampoo.

Ebook Launch

2009-12-29T10:52:00.005-05:00

Publishing a book is a little like your kid's first day at school. You want to hover, put bumpers on them, be there to dry their tears. In a word: worry. Yet, like the old saw about ships being safest in the harbor but that's not what they are made for, children need to make their own way in the world.

Gulp.

And so I announce the ebook launch of my novel NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE: now available at Amazon and Smashwords. In the next couple of weeks, Barnes & Noble and Sony.

Books are always safest in your head, but that is not what they're written for. So off you go, little book. Remember your mittens and lunch bag.

Daddy will be here when you return.

Book Cover!

2009-12-09T11:08:00.004-05:00

Final cover art for my middle grade novel, NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE. Coming out in print on February 1, 2010. As an ebook, much sooner. Details to follow.

Go Green - But what shade?

2009-11-03T19:49:00.005-05:00

I’ve been obsessing about green. As in which color green for my book cover? There’s this real trendy green, you see it everywhere. Magazines, candy wrappers, web pages, race cars...

Even rock groups.

If a book is green, chances are it is this green. So when my thirteen-year-old daughter asked me what color to paint her room, I suggested:

She loved it! I told her that was the color I was thinking for the cover of my book.

She: Isn’t yours about a boy who tries out for baseball?

Me: Yes.

She: What about grass-green?

Even better.

Take The Hobbit Challenge

2009-10-19T12:09:00.004-04:00

Start today and be done by the end of November, that's the challenge I gave to my nine-year-old son. Everything is more fun if accompanied by words like challenge. Adventure too.

When I was in middle school, my teacher pressed her personal copy of The Hobbit into my hands. She said it would be a challenge. She made me promise to 'give it fifty pages.' It was a struggle, but I did it, and I remember on page 51 being hooked. I went on to read the Lord of the Rings, breathlessly reading to find out how it all ended.

I gave my boy the same advice: Give it fifty. Race you there. Last one to Mordor is a rotten Nazgul.

Why are ebooks so expensive?

2009-10-07T12:51:00.002-04:00

Did you know that the first typeface looked like italics? The first printed pages were made to look just like handwriting. Like calling a car a horseless carriage, innovation seems to start out like an emulation of the past. So when I tried to figure out why ebooks are so expensive, I first thought that publishers were treating them just the same as print books. That they were unable to let the buggy whip factory close. Are publishers just not getting it?

In favor of That Argument
Often ebooks are priced the same as their print counterparts. Yet with ebooks there are no printing costs, or shipping, so what's the deal? Well, it could be they don't want competition with their real business: dead tree byproducts. Certainly their copy protection schemes suggest just that. While I can pass around my copy of The Hobbit like a shared tankard at the Ivy Bush inn, I can't email a friend an ebook. Or print it out in some cases. My own paid-for copy! It's like publishers are crippling their own products. Have you noticed when you read ebook offerings online that about one in ten is missing an uploaded book cover? Call me skeptical, but ebooks seem to be the unwanted stepchild of the publishing world.

Against That Argument
Take Sarah Palin's book Going Rogue. It's only available as a hardcover, not as an ebook. At first this seems like another point in favor of cluelessness. However, consider the margins: Rogue is selling for thirty dollars (list); if at a fifty percent discount, minus, say, a hypothetical $5 print cost, HarperCollins could be looking at ten dollars of profit a book. Using Amazon as a measure, ebooks' price point appears to be ten dollars. Then, isn't it reasonable to assume that the money HC makes would be less that that? Perhaps half?

My question is: Would you sell dead trees over ones and zeros at twice the gain? You betcha'. What I believe is that publishers are pushing print books because they can make a tidier profit out of them.

How do I Feel About This?
As a reader, I feel taken advantage of. I could have many more books on my iPhone, just like I own plenty of apps. Most apps are free or a dollar; five bucks is the outlier, and what I receive from those is great utility or dozens of hours of entertainment. Somebody is making money off of apps, you can count on it. Don't tell me that software writing is less work than book writing. I don't buy it.

As a writer, do I think making more royalties on a print book are a good thing? Sure, but according to my partner pub contract, the ebook edition will be forty percent off of the print price — yet the royalty to me is higher! Why? No printing and transportation costs. Would I rather sell fewer books at a higher margin? Not really. I want my book in more hands not fewer. Whose interests does this serve? The publisher, not the author. Rooted to an old model.

What this whole argument presupposes is that there has to be a good reason for pricing. Clearly, Houghton Mifflin can charge whatever they want for Lord of the Rings, for example. Then again, nobody has to buy it. What this topic does remind me of is what the record industry went through with Napster. Record execs arbitrarily set a price for music, and consumers had to buy it bundled (a whole CD) instead of getting only what they wanted (a single). And the music became copy protected. Stealing music became easier than buying it. And we all know what happened to the record industry since then.

So my conclusion is not that publishers 'aren't getting it', but that they are trying to preserve their historical margins. If so, all I have to ask them is this: Can Bookster be far behind?

Son is Jealous of New Baby

2009-09-30T10:08:00.004-04:00

In my family, when baby G makes an 'o' with his lips, we joke that he's making 'bottle face.' Insert nipple here. We laugh. When my other son M sat in my lap and pursed his lips, I didn't. He's nine.

It has to be hard on him: he's not the baby anymore. No longer the only boy. Where does he fit in?

So far, we've avoided any real rivalry. The way the baby looks adoringly at M, he might as well have jellybeans spilling out of his ears. In turn, he's so good with the baby; he makes a great big brother. But this lap incident leaves open a question.

M needs to know how he fits into his father's life now that he's the middle sibling. I think this weekend I'll set aside some time. Just for us. Perhaps go see that movie, "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." We must have read the book it's based on a hundred times—starting when M was making bottle face of his own.

I want to show him I will always have room for him in my heart.

A New Way of Publishing: Partner Pub

2009-09-11T12:50:00.004-04:00

Maybe you've heard of the new publisher-on-the-block, Harperstudio, an imprint of HarperCollins, or maybe read about Flying Pen Press’s business plan: both espouse a version of partner pub. What is partner publishing, you ask?

What It Is Not
Traditional publishing, my understanding anyway, is when a brick & mortar imprint buys the rights to your book and gives you an advance against royalties. They then get to choose the sales and marketing plan, book cover art, and whether it gets sold as an ebook, hardcover, or other format. Their decision. The author does their best to supplement the publisher's marketing efforts. Yes, the book's still yours, but you've lent it away for upfront money plus 6% of list. A lot of books don't ever earn out of their advance.

Partner pubbing is also not subsidy publishing. That's an arrangement by which the author is responsible for fronting the publishing costs. Sub pub has all the downside of traditional publishing (lack of artistic control) and is devoid of the upside: the advance.

What it is
Partner pub is a different model entirely. With the advent of POD (publishing on demand), strategic partnerships with distributors, books can be competitively priced with trade books printed from large offset runs. Publishing without the risky investment in a print run of books, storage fees, etc. Each book is printed one at a time when ordered.

What does that mean for a beginning author? A publisher using this model has less of a gamble with a newbie — like me. There are still costs (setup fees, book cover, editing, et al), but in partner pubbing the publisher assumes the upfront expenses. Thereafter, it's a fifty/fifty split of the profits.

What I Like About It
The book remains my own: I'm a partner, not a hired hand. All those rights that you need an agent to wrestle from a publisher? Mine. I retain them. Contracts vary, I'm sure, but the one I looked has a flexible arrangement. Anything I do to market or make more salable my book lowers the threshold of break even. That means getting my royalties sooner and larger—just like a real business partner. And unlike in traditional publishing models, I would retain artistic control over my book's presentation and be a partner in decision-making over marketing and sales. And unlike sub pub, where they make the majority of their money upselling services and have limited incentives to actually sell the book, partner pubbers only make money when you do.

Why Opt For This?
Every writer dreams of being traditionally published. Certainly there's a lot that speaks well of this model. But if you're a hands-on type (I am), with a niche book, or possibly one that doesn't have the mass market appeal the big boys in New York are looking for, partner pub may be for you.

Catch of the Day

2009-08-28T11:52:00.003-04:00

If you've ever attended a peewee Little League game, you'd know that walks are the norm, hits are all home runs, and the most common defensive play is being hit by the ball. But the uniforms sure look nice. I never had a uniform, growing up; but then again, I never played organized ball. Did you know they have regulation socks?

One game, my son was positioned about as far away from the action as coachly possible. Right Field. For those unfamiliar with the game, mainly left-handed batters hit to right field. Only about one in ten players are left-handed. Only one in a hundred ever hits a fly ball. My son was in a safe spot.

The score was 27 to 14. It was the third inning, after all. The game was about to be called on account of dark, nobody was interested in lining up all the cars to put on all the headlights — I asked around — when, with the tink of the aluminum bat, Lefty Mcgee, I don't remember the kid's real name, hit a pop up that carried. Yes, to right field.

I'm not very athletic, myself. My last baseball game was in junior high, and I proved to be a whiff-master. Most of my advice to my boy were phrases I'm pretty sure I had heard on ESPN; though I added my own fatherly tidbit of color commentary, 'keep that glove in front of your face, the dentist doesn't need more work.' I was little help even in the backyard ball toss, even less from the sidelines as the ball reached apogee and arced downwards.

My son raised his glove, lining up the webbing with the tumbling ball. Took tiny steps forward. Slam! His glove came down a foot and a half. Caught. My boy had just caught a ball! Coach later said that was the only catch he had seen all season. So proud.

I wonder if they make matching socks in my size?

A Pet Can Make You a Better Parent

2009-08-13T14:38:00.003-04:00

I got my first pet as an adult. He was a Vietnamese pot-bellied pig and I loved him. Took him everywhere. This was the first time I was ever fully responsible for another's well being. Had to feed him (told friends I had to go home and 'slop the hog!'), look after him (Omigod, dropped an M&M. Can pigs eat chocolate? *dives for it*), and take him regularly to the doctor.

Um, veterinarian. Sometimes I forget he was another species.

I went from barely taking care of myself to having this little creature I was daddy to. I had to start thinking like a parent: how best to socialize him? For Halloween, I put a mini-cape on him. Count Porkula. Trick-or-treaters lost their inhibitions and petted his wiry-brush mane. After that, he became much more comfortable around children. How to let your 'kid' be himself? The pig wanted to root, flip things over while looking for food. So I hid treats to give him something to do, rather than punishing him for folding over the rugs. That’s who he wanted to be—flipper-over guy. Part of parenting is learning to let your kids be whom they want.

For most people, I imagine, having a pet is something you first do when you're a child. So when I started writing my middle grade book, I decided to give my kid-protagonist a pet. Tweeners are children emerging into adulthood, what a better way to show it? But novels need problems, so I made him the new kid in town, prone to embarrassment, and yeah, you guessed it, he gets a pig as a pet. Mortification ensues.There are few animals with more negative associations than the porcine.Talk about overcoming stereotypes! Yet that’s just the situation. The plot really kicks in when my character loses his pig, and stays out all night looking for him in the woods—this leaves his parents a wreck. For the first time, my reluctant, pet-owning kid empathizes with his parents' worry. This experience put him in the boots of parenthood.

For myself, having a pet meant I had to factor his considerations into all my decisions. See outside my own needs. If I didn’t take care of him, I had to make sure some one else would. When I went on to have kids of my own, I never forgot the lessons I learned raising my pet. How he forgave my mistakes. How I learned to love teaching him new things. How I became a better parent through the experience of caring for him.

Though my life is very full now, I miss him every day. He's the one who convinced me I was ready for fatherhood.

Author Platforming: The Three Be's

2009-08-03T09:57:00.005-04:00

Coming at this topic as a newbie, trying to learn, I was surprised at how many writers don't use a platform, or worse, flub it. I mean, it's writing. Blogs, tweeting, messaging. All words. We're supposed to be good at that, right? Yet some good authors are failing—how could I possibly succeed?

Well, I think writers are good with words. Some just don't know how to shift gears from telling their characters' stories and getting their own out. In other words, switching from narrating to marketing—that I'm trying to learn. So here are three tenets I've picked up (from others) about using the internet to connect with readers. Feel free to share your own.

The Three Be's

1) Be useful
What does your readership care about? For me, as a middle grade writer, it is important to address subjects that parents (who buy books) and kids (who read the books) want to know about. As a father myself, I can leverage my experience addressing issues that parents and kids deal with at this 'in between' stage. Topics such as family pets, competing in sports, and the awkwardness of going from kid to adult. My novel is about all three.

2) Be entertaining
A writer is a story teller, right? Tell one! Be funny, save the best bit for last, you know the drill. Would you have your protagonist discuss grocery lists or backed up toilets in your novel? No. Readers are not your friends, they are your clientele. Consumers of what you write, they aren't here to listen to a writer's complaints. That's exhausting. That's for your personal, super-secret blog that nobody reads but your mother.

3) Be real
You wouldn't immediately upon hearing a coworker's story about her nine-year-old's birthday party say, "That reminds me of my vampire novel, 'Suckers on the Loose!' Let me tell you about it." Um, no. That would be weird. But I see that all the time appended to blog posts. Good salespeople connect personally with their customers. Listen to them, hear what they have to say, and give them what they want. You are establishing a life-long reader relationship here. Not selling a rusted-out hooptie and leaving town on the first Greyhound.

I've done sales before. Hated it. Yet, like going to the gym, it made me a better person. A stronger person. I will readily admit, however, I sold more when I believed in what I was selling.

Why write if you don't believe in your own book?

Three People To Be Like

April Hamilton is a dynamo of an author-as-entreprenuer whose ideas can work for self pub and traditionally pubbed authors. After reading her inspirational posts, I was moved to 'try it again' myself.

John August is primarily a screen writer, but his site is a model of usefulness with a depth of reference material unmatched. Recently he self-pubbed a short story on the Kindle that has been a terrific lesson in how one can use a new distribution system for your writing. From contests, to an insider's view of the industry, his site is fun.

JA Konrath is the hardest working writer on the 'net. When he's not writing a novel, he's experimenting with sales on the Kindle, judging writing contests, and visiting scores of bookstores. Then he blogs about it. Whew!

So why platform? Well, if you can't draw readers to your blog, what makes you think you can get them to buy your book? Or get a publisher to take you on? Think of it as authorship-in-training. I know I do.