It is a marathon

It is a marathon, not a sprint. I must remember this. I have had my books for a little over a week, failed to secure one venue and managed to sell just two books—to my cousin.

I got depressed this afternoon when I visited Borders in Saratoga. Books. Books. Books. With nearly 500 new titles coming out every day that makes about 5500 new books since I got my book. Holy Crap, how do I get noticed?

While making cold calls to booksellers down the coast, I get a hold of one grumpy guy who snarled at me that I was wasting his time. If I can’t get something in the paper, forget coming to his store. The fact that I use to live in the area “don’t mean a hill of beans”—well actually, he was a bit cruder than that, but I am trying to clean up my mouth. I sent him a book anyway. Maybe he will be transformed. Yeah, like into a Transformer Toy.

Thirty or more phone call made last week, thirty more press kits printed, thirty more free promotional books given away, thirty more letters written, envelops addressed and licked (yuck) and a little more than $60 in postage spent. Time? Time means nothing. This is my job. Or at least my father remarked that I have worked pretty hard at this. To him it seems like my job. I tell my dad it is my job, but I have this feeling I have a very expensive hobby that involves licking a lot of stamps.

I was in Borders on a mission of sorts, to find out if I can do anything else. I have a book, I am calling bookstores, I have submitted my press kit and application to the Big Boys, I am knocking on alternative venues, I have a small feature call in on a radio show in Nashville and Knoxville, I am working on getting a newspaper article in the hometown paper, I’m tapping into a radio interview, I have sent out my press release (I could use a new one) and I have created three blogs. (Good Lord, do I admit I have one on My Space?) I have signed up on several writers and author websites which I am sure will get me more junk email than I care to have, but I wisely did not use my primary email account. I have tapped the Net—I have a site and anyone can buy my book from me through the site, and on Amazon for less than $13.00. I am even offering new signed books on Amazon for $25.00. Still I went to Borders looking for guidance. I perused through the marketing section looking for guerilla marketing techniques. After thumbing through a few books I concluded I am just getting started. It is a marathon, not a sprint. Focus on the goal. Keep knocking. And have fun. I left Borders before all those books made me sick.

Is anyone reading this?

Personal notes: Tomorrow is the captain’s birthday. The toad turns 54. And I have officially passed into menopause. It took three years. But when are the hot flashes suppose to stop?