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#how to publish books
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swkrullimaging · 1 year
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Big Kindle Pricing Error
Big Kindle Pricing Error to Avoid When Publishing With the advent of the new year I was noticing that my Guide to Rocky Mountain National Park eBook was getting a lot of attention. I have Kindle ad campaigns going for most of the books on my Kindle Site it which show me what my potential customers search terms are, plus a small fee for any clicks my ad might to the book. What I noticed in…
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 5 months
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Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl found dead in a hidden room.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#lan xichen#jin guangyao#jiang cheng#wei wuxian#qin su#EDIT: Tumblr published an earlier draft with only half the notes I wrote so: late entry on my JGY thoughts.#Unlike the mystic powers of the stockmarket (what the OG meme is referring to) I think this situation calls for more active investigation.#qin su is such a deeply tragic character to me and I really wish we got a bit more from her.#Love everyone who sent me messages about her after the last time she appeared.#I think she needs a spin off of her being a transmigrator SO badly.#MDZS has so many interesting characters - but it sometimes fails to give them the proper room to really develop past a role in the plot.#That's just the consequence of writing a story like MDZS. Not every character in a book *needs* to have a rich inner life and backstory!#To do so would bog down the story and obliterate any notion of pacing. It's just not possible.#Jin Guangyao (nee Meng Yao) is unfortunately not free from this leeway rule. He is the culprit of this murder mystery plot#and thus NEEDS to encapsulate the themes of the book. And personally he's a 7 out of 10 at best on this front (in the AD).#MDZS is about rumours twisting reality and working towards truth. And about how people & situations are rarely ever black & white#JGY has his motivations. He's well written in regards to his actions making sense for his character.#What started as good traits (drive to succeed & improve his image) became twisted over time (do anything to maintain his image)#and it's a good parallel to WWX! He has the same arc (with different traits)! Bonus points for IGY in that regard.#but man....by the time we confront this guy for murder there's not a lot of grey morality. He's just...deep in the hole *he* dug.#There's a beautiful tragedy to it! More on JGY in later comics - this is getting pretty long already!
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pinespittinink · 2 years
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my hot take is that if you want to write a book, you need to read books
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inkskinned · 2 years
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i. about 2 weeks ago, i was told there's a good chance that in 5 or so years, i'll need a wheelchair.
ii. okay. i loved harry potter as a kid. i have a hypothesis about this to be honest - why people still kind of like it. it's that she got very lucky. she managed to make a cross-generational hit. it was something shared for both parents and kids. it was right at the start of a huge cultural shift from pre to post-internet. i genuinely think many people were just seeking community; not her writing. it was a nice shorthand to create connection. which is a long way of saying - she didn't build this legacy, we built it for her. she got lucky, just once. that's all.
iii. to be real with you, i still struggle with identifying as someone with a disability, which is wild, especially given the ways my life has changed. i always come up against internalized ableism and shame - convinced even right now that i'm faking it for attention. i passed out in a grocery store recently. i hit my head on the shelves while i went down.
iv. he raises his eyebrows while he sends me a look. her most recent new book has POTS featured in it. okay, i say. i already don't like where this is going. we both take another bite of ramen. it is a trait of the villain, he says. we both roll our eyes about it.
v. so one of the things about being nonbinary but previously super into harry potter is that i super hate jk rowling. but it is also not good for my mental health to regret any form of joy i engaged with as a kid. i can't punish my young self for being so into the books - it was a passion, and it was how i made most of my friends. everyone knew about it. i felt like everyone had my same joy, my same fixation. as a "weird kid", this sense of belonging resonated with me so loudly that i would have done anything to protect it.
vi. as a present, my parents once took me out of school to go see the second movie. it is an incredibly precious memory: my mom straight-up lying about a dentist appointment. us snickering and sneaking into the weekday matinee. within seven years of this experience, the internet would be a necessity to get my homework finished. the world had permanently changed. harry potter was a relic, a way any of us could hold onto something of the analog.
vii. by sheer luck, the year that i started figuring out the whole gender fluid thing was also the first year people started to point out that she might have some internalized biases. i remember tumblr before that; how often her name was treated as godhood. how harry potter was kind of a word synonymous for "nerdy but cool." i would walk out of that year tasting he/him and they/them; she would walk out snarling and snapping about it.
viii. when i teach older kids creative writing, i usually tell them - so, she did change the face of young adult fiction, there's no denying that. she had a lot more opportunities than many of us will - there were more publishing houses, less push for "virally" popular content creators. but beyond reading another book, we need to write more books. we need to uplift the voices of those who remain unrepresented. we need to push for an exposure to the bigotry baked into the publishing system. and i promise you: you can write better than she ever did. nothing she did was what was magical - it was the way that the community responded to it.
ix. i get home from ramen. three other people have screenshotted the POTS thing and sent it to me. can you fucking believe we're still hearing this shit from her when it's almost twenty-fucking-twenty-three. the villain is notably also popular on tumblr. i just think that's funny. this woman is a billionaire and she's mad that she can't control the opinions of some people on a dying blue site that makes no money. lady, and i mean this - get a fucking life.
x. i am sorry to the kid i was. maybe the kid you were too. none of us deserved to see something like this ruined. that thing used to be precious to me. and now - all those good times; measured into dust.
/// 9.6.2022 // FUCKING AGAIN, JK? Are you fucking kidding me?
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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In other news, this week a French publisher on his way to the London Book Fair was arrested by British counter-terrorist police to be questioned about his participation in protests in France.
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A French publisher has been arrested on terror charges in London after being questioned by UK police about participating in anti-government protests in France.
Moret arrived at St Pancras [...] with his colleague Stella Magliani-Belkacem, the editorial director at the Paris-based publishing house, to be confronted by the two officers. [...] He was questioned for six hours and then arrested for alleged obstruction in refusing to disclose the passcodes to his phone and computer. [...] He was transferred to a police station in Islington, north London, where he remained in custody on Tuesday. He was later released on bail.
Éditions la Fabrique is known for publishing radical left authors. Moret also represents the French science fiction novelist Alain Damasio and had arranged more than 40 appointments at the London book fair. [...]
[Quoting publishing house’s press release] “The police officers claimed that Ernest had participated in demonstrations in France as a justification for this act – a quite remarkably inappropriate statement for a British police officer to make, and which seems to clearly indicate complicity between French and British authorities on this matter.” [...] “There’s been an increasingly repressive approach by the French government to the demonstrations, both in terms of police violence, but also in terms of a security clampdown.”
(Guardian link - BBC link) (article in French)
The publishing house (here’s their latest statement in French) and the publisher’s lawyer mention that the British police asked him “Do you support Emmanuel Macron? Did you attend protests against the pension reform?” and he was also asked to name the authors with anti-government views that his employer has published. They add, “Asking the representative of a publishing house, in the framework of counter-terrorism, about the opinions of his authors, is pushing even further the logic of political censorship and repression of dissenting thought. In a context of social protests and authoritarian escalation on the part of the French government, this aspect [of the questioning] is chilling.”
Being an accomplice to thoughtcrime by publishing dissident authors gets you treated like an international terrorist now... The publisher’s lawyer suggests that French authorities asked the UK to help them get their hands on the publisher’s contacts in the radical left sphere. But on the face of it, we’ve got: Exercise your right to protest your government in France -> get arrested by counter-terrorist UK police in London. That’s literally the reason he was given for being greeted by police at the train station...
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mercurybomber · 7 months
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excerpt from "The Ozmapolitan" (Issue 5, Reilly & Lee, 1928) featuring Ozma's thoughts on becoming a girl
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rocksalt-and-pie · 2 years
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shout-out to the makers of NBC Hannibal for (clearly) reading all four books about Hannibal Lecter by Thomas Harris and going "hmm. actually we will make the gayest possible version of this" going on to COMPLETELY disregard the other main character and (canon) ?love interest? of the series and never even MENTION Clarice Starling. Like it's so funny to me that she never even appears on the show when book!Will Graham literally fucks off after The Red Dragon and wants nothing to do with any of this anymore and book!Hannibal is obsessed with Clarice in the same way that tv!Hannibal is obsessed with tv!Will. like they really took a whole book franchise, picked out the cherries, and made it their own personal little gay AU. that's so refreshing and should be a leading example in television adaptations. in this essay i will
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silentwalrus1 · 6 months
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if i have to read one more published fantasy book that uses irl memes and online vernacular in its dialogue i’m taking away the toys until y’all can learn to respect yourselves. Not only does it break immersion in your world and detract from your characters having their own voices, it also makes you, the author, seem like a dim parrot incapable of neither original thought nor basic understanding of the passage of time
1) due to the timeline of publishing, any meme included will automatically be hopelessly dated by the time the story reaches readers and
2) it’s literally the same thing Ready Player One did. Hey look i’m pointing at a thing in pop culture. Did you get my reference? Did you get it? Let me list some more colors and shapes you recognize. Did you get it? And then Gideon Nav hit the dab or whatever. Hashtag Relatable!
It’s so painfully unfunny and uncompelling every time. We can do better. Apply some creativity to your own work
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lucky-slice · 1 month
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low key i think to deny Riko's trauma is to deny his narrative importance in the story.
like Riko's trauma related to his father parallels neil's. His concept of brotherhood adds complexity to Andrew and Aaron's relationship. He acts not just as an antagonist but as a foil to other character's relationship to trauma and violence.
to solely view riko through the lense of his actions is to miss the point. He is a character in a story, not a real breathing human being.
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retracexcviii · 9 days
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Sunday Moon
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Hi there dear fellows and Luna lovers. Sunday.
Don't edit this drawing and don't post it anywhere.
What to say about this masterpiece. Just that I love it and it is and will be my pc wallpaper for long time.
It was made by @/jazetallo on Instagram or Twitter.
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checanty · 6 months
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I just noticed I didn't tell you yet--which is shameful as it is Tumblr where the Mermaid Scientist was born! My Mermaid Book was picked up by Eye of Newt and is available for pre-order right now (it's coming out very soon, though, so any orders should make it until Christmas if that's a concern of yours)! If you're in North America, I'd suggest ordering directly through my publisher's website, however it's available anywhere you'd usually order books. You can ask your favourite indie book shop to order it for you or--if there's no other option or you're worried about crazy shipping costs where you live--it's available via the place starting with A, which shall otherwise not be named, as well. Please note: This is an edited version of the original book. It's shorter, but with more coherent world building and a beautiful new layout and design. It's a proper field guide now!
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daisywords · 3 months
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"just focus on book 1 without mapping out the entire trilogy" I need you to understand how much I cannot do that
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tennessoui · 7 months
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I'm begging on my hands and knees for more Twilight au, and those are words I never thought I'd say! Anakin being able to resist compulsion, and Obi-Wan seeming instantly obsessed, and poor Shmi! Pretty please 🥺🙏
hey!! sure! here's some more!
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Having a sheriff for a mom sucked a lot when he was a kid growing up in a small town. There was probably nothing Anakin was rebelling against more at eleven, at thirteen, at seventeen than the rule of law his mother represented. 
All things considered, she was pretty good at separating her home life from her worklife. It was Anakin who was bad at respecting the separation, Anakin who couldn’t keep son out of delinquent.  There’s only so many times he could be pulled out of wreckage and bars and buildings with Keep Out No Trespassing signs on them before he got The Sheriff at home and out in public.
He’d hated it growing up and had come to grudgingly respect it later and in fits and starts. His dad dying had, terribly and ironically, helped a lot. His mother had had a stroke just before and then Anakin had been faced with the possibility of being an orphan, and the terror of that had mellowed him out.
Sorta.
He still hates a lot of things about his mother’s job. Especially the fact that she’s the sheriff of a very small town.
And when people talk, she listens.
The thing about small towns is that everyone’s always fucking talking. And other people are always fucking lsitening so they can talk later. One big fucking community, which means when Anakin comes home from his weird doctor’s appointment with Dr. Kenobi, a few hours later because he took a detour biking along the edge of the seaside cliffs just to spit in the good doctor’s metaphorical face, Shmi Skywalker already knows more than Anakin ever planned to tell her.
Like, for instance, “Sheila says that Dr. Kenobi thought it would behoove you to spend some time at the local library volunteering.”
Anakin pauses, backpack half-slung off his shoulders. He hangs his stuff up slowly, careful to keep his tone very light. “Did Sheila say what I told him after he said that?” 
His mom’s silence is very loud.
“I don’t want to do i—”
“I asked the new librarian about it on my way home from the station. She thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Apparently we used to have a program like that in the forties but it died out during the war.”
“Mom, come on—”
“It’ll look good on resumes, saying you created and supported a local reading program.”
“Yeah, but I’m a bit too old to be applying for babysitting positio—”
“It’ll look good for me as well,” Shmi says in her sheriff voice. “Elections are coming up soon. It’ll be good, if my kid was involved in the community.”
Anakin’s glad that his back is still turned to the living room, where his mom is sitting. “Are you gonna run again?” he asks, paying special attention to his tone this time.
“Why wouldn’t I?” his mom replies. “I’ve been sheriff for a decade and a half.”
Anakin lets his eyes fall closed for a second, knowing that his face can’t be seen. This is how they end up half the time: Shmi’s ardent belief that she is invincible, going up against Anakin’s desperate desire for her to be so.
And they just don’t talk about it. As if they’re actually in agreement.
He knows how this is going to shake out.
“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” His mother asks.
Anakin’s eyes remain closed. “I guess so,” he says.
—--------
Mrs. Kenobi—call me Satine—is sort of scary up close. She’s tall. She glides between bookshelves. Anakin’s never met someone who glides before. And she’s so intensely, incredibly, blindingly perfect that Anakin would rather be anywhere but in her vicinity. There’s something incredibly unnerving about the symmetry of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’s obviously an absolute knock-out, just drop-dead gorgeous, but it makes Anakin’s skin crawl and his heart beat fast, but not in a good way or a normal teenage boy way.
Anakin tries to keep the unease off his face as Satine leads him through a tour of the library, a gentle hand on his forearm. That’s another thing Anakin doesn’t really like. She’s wearing satin gloves. He doesn’t know anyone who wears gloves anymore.
It’s just all a bit…unsettling.
“I put in a few words around the school yesterday afternoon,” Satine tells him. They pass by the mystery section, the fantasy section, and take a hard right into the young adult section. The shelves are smaller here, and Anakin feels rather stupidly gigantic as he and Satine walk through them. “To some parents picking their children up after school. They agreed it would be good exposure to bring them to the library for an hour or so of reading before supper.”
Anakin highly doubts it will be, but Satine hasn’t really asked him.
She sweeps past his figure and pushes open a pair of double doors with a flourish better suited for a Russian tsarina hosting an elaborate ball than a small town librarian showing off a small, cramped, and dusty room filled with padded seats and threadbare rugs.
And then, as if she has been waiting to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin, Satine adds, “A few students from the local high school will be here as well.”
“Sorry,” Anakin says, “are you saying I’m going to be reading to high school students? Can’t they do that themselves?”
After all, Anakin went to high school here. Academics hadn’t been too rigorously challenging, but they’d taught the fucking basics.
Satine raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction. “They’ll be volunteering as well.”
Oh. Right.
“It looks good on their college applications,” Satine waves a hand through the air and the words linger there. Anakin looks out the rather dirty window, jaw clenching. “I’ve already chosen a handful of books I think the young ones will enjoy.”
Anakin, committed to his fate, pads over to the titles placed carefully ontop of a short, stout side table. 
“Peter the Rabbit,” he reads off the top. “Peter Pan. Alice in Wonderland. Treasure Island. The Prince and the Pauper—look, you’re the librarian here, but don’t you have anything written this century maybe? Harry Potter, even.”
“These are classics,” Satine tells him, her nose raised into the air as if she has encountered something particularly foul-smelling. She turns away, presumably to return to the front desk so she can welcome half the fucking town inside the library so Anakin can read them fucking Anne of Green Gables and become a better person.
“These are fucking boring,” he mutters to himself, flicking the cover of the first book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz open. Publication date: 1900. “I’d rather be in Kenobi’s office getting lectured at.”
There’s a sharp noise of disapproval from the doorway, and Anakin’s head snaps up to see the tail end of a very heated look from the librarian before the door closes behind her.
He shivers, alone in the emply room, and it takes several long minutes for his heart to settle back into its normal pace. 
—----------
After the fourth kid sneezes, Anakin closes his book with a snap and stands from the very small chair they’ve got him sitting on. “Come on,” he tells the cluster of children he’s been assigned to. “We’re getting out of here.”
“Are you kidnapping us?” One of them, a snot-nosed kid who’d started the sneezing says, rubbing at her cheek beneath her glasses. “Cause mommy says that’s not allowed.”
“I’m not kidnapping you,” Anakin snaps back, barely holding in his natural follow-up to the sentence which is of course, I don’t want to be around any of you in the first place. “Also, just for future reference, you shouldn’t ask if someone’s kidnapping you after you already start following them.”
The girl scowls and reaches up her hand to hold onto Anakin’s. 
For the love of Christ.
“We’re just going to go into the main part of the library,” Anakin tells his children, all six of them. “They have windows out there.”
They have windows out there and they also have parents. Parents who absolutely should be doing other things with their lives and precious hour of extra freetime.
Parents who are clustered instead around the library’s front desk as the town’s newest librarian holds court.
“Is reading time over?” one of the kids asks him, turning his head to look up at Anakin.
Anakin thinks about it. “Do you want reading time to be over?”
The kid thinks about it back. “Yeah,” he decides. “You don’t do the voices good.”
“It’s a boring book,” Anakin tells the kid. “Voices aren’t going to make it better.”
“Voices always make it better,” another kid says. “They make everything better.”
“Oh look,” Anakin says. “Is that your father?”
He gestures vaguely towards the cluster of drooling middle-aged somethings focused on Satine.
The kid peeks around his thigh and then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That’s Dr. Obi.”
“Dr. Obi!” The kid holding Anakin’s hand says, and she lets go.
Anakin gets a bad feeling about this, a feeling that only doubles when he turns around to see Dr. Kenobi sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the pockets of a long dark jacket that makes him look even more pale than he already is.
He scowls automatically as the man gets closer. “Dr. Obi.”
Dr. Kenobi spares him a look that’s far too amused for Anakin’s pleasure before he crouches down to the level of the kids. “Hello there, young ones,” he says, opening his arms to accept a hug from the traitor of a girl Anakin’s just spent thirty minutes reading to. “Are you eating all your vegetables? Even the brussel sprouts?”
“I like brussel sprouts,” one of the kids reports sounding proud, and that starts a cacophony of opinions about brussel sprouts from all around Anakin.
“Wow! One of mine just absolutely hates them,” Dr. Kenobi says. “She refuses to eat them, so you’re very brave, Michele.” He lets go of the girl and turns his golden-brown gaze up to Anakin. “And what does Mr. Skywalker think?” he asks, raising a hand for Anakin to take. It’s very obvious he’s asking for a hand up and Anakin is obeying before he thinks about it. He snatches his hand free almost too soon, but Dr. Kenobi doesn’t even have the grace to lose his balance and fall over. 
His hand is like ice in Anakin’s, and Anakin stuffs his fingers into the pocket of his jacket automatically a second later.
“Do brussel sprouts help with circulation?” he’s biting out before he can stop himself. “Cause you may need some then.”
Kenobi’s head tilts very slightly to the side as his eyes catch and hold onto Anakin’s. “Oh?” he asks lightly. 
“You’re cold,” is all Anakin mutters in return. He swipes his other hand against the back of his neck. “”S poor circlutation, isn’t it? Something in your diet maybe?” Dr. Kenobi blinks at him and then breaks into a wide smile. “I can assure my diet is very…circulation-mindful,” he says. “Blood health positive.”
Anakin’s mouth thins into a line. He guesses that’s what he gets for trying to give health advice to a doctor, especially a doctor like Kenobi who just so happens to be devastatingly attractive and also smart.
And also an asshole. And also married.
Speaking of which. “Are you here to fend off your wife’s admirers with a scalpel?” Kenobi’s eyebrows raise. “Young ones,” he turns his head away from Anakin, down to the children.
The strangest feeling breaks of Anakin the second Kenobi looks away, almost as if a strange pressure he hadn’t even realized had been building was suddenly dissolved.
The very small beginnings of a headache begin to thrum in his temples.
“Young ones, it’s time to find your parents, isn’t it?” Kenobi says, and like fucking magic, the crowd of six children around Anakin disperse, children swarming away from him towards the group of adults surrounding the front desk.
“Can you teach me how to do that?” Anakin blurts out, even though he’d meant to ignore Kenobi now that he doesn’t have to make nice in front of small kids. Not that he was really making nice in the first place. But now he definitely doesn’t have to.
Kenobi gives him a half-smile, eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s a special sort of skill that takes, above all else, much practice.”
Anakin scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Does Kenobi think he can’t commit himself to something even as mundane as a fucking commanding persona? Does he think he doesn’t have it in him to be–-
Kenobi’s eyebrows go up again. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exceedingly defensive?” 
“You’re extremely nosey,” Anakin snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have better things to focus on right now anyway?”
He gestures loosely towards Satine, who has started playing with one of the mother’s bracelets as the other woman stands and looks at her rather dumbfounded.
Kenobi follows his gaze and then lets out a huff of laughter. “Satine can take care of herself,” he says, even though it hadn’t really been Satine that Anakin was worried about.
He’s about to open his mouth to say so when Kenobi turns back to him. His eyes are piercing, a dark, captivating sort of gold. 
“Do you find my wife beautiful, Anakin?” he asks.
Anakin blinks. His headache is getting worse, which is probably down to what can only be a trick-question fashioned to look like a grenade lobbed at his feet. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that,” he mutters, rubbing absently at his forehead. “What the fuck.”
“An honest answer is a good one,” Kenobi says lightly. “Tell me honestly.”
The words feel pulled from Anakin’s stomach, and he’s opening his mouth before he realizes it. “No,” he says. 
Kenobi’s eyebrows crinkle together. “No?”
Anakin curses his stupid impulse control. “She’s beautiful,” he adds quickly. “Really. But…it makes me uncomfortable.”
Kenobi’s lips purse, and then there’s something like disappointment in his eyes as he examines Anakin. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “I’ve been told my wife can make countless young men feel rather uncomfortable. It’s normal in men your age, Anakin. Sexual ar—”
“Uncanny,” Anakin blurts out. He doesn’t mean to, but he also doesn’t want to listen to  Kenobi trying to lecture him on fucking arousal in the public library. When it’s not even relevant. “She’s so beautiful, it’s uncanny.”
“Uncanny.”
“Yeah, like. Monstrous.”
Kenobi’s mouth falls open, pink lips parted in what looks like honest surprise.
Anakin’s own eyes widen as it hits him that he’s just called Kenobi’s wife a monster to Kenobi’s face.
“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m going to go.” 
He throws a look at Kenobi, whose eyes are lit with something a lot like interest and then across the library to where Satine’s head is turned, cocked, and eyebrows up high on her forehead, as if she’s just heard everything he’s said.
He decides rather immediately that he’s going to take the backdoor exit.
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misterghostfrog · 7 months
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Alright I haven't been on here for a while but I'm a man on a mission. A week ago my sibling published their first poetry anthology! They've been working on the collection for years through a lot of different parts of their life and it covers a lot of their experiences as someone raised as a woman with a lot of neurodivergence and disability. And they've begun trying to do marketing work and so far it's going...
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Very poorly
They've only gotten traction on tiktok... because a group of people started sharing the video around making fun of their voice (they have a speech impediment) and are mostly just getting harassed and made fun of for their disability. And since I'm not allowed to hunt people for sport I'm taking their book to the spite and gay people website in hopes of helping them find an audience
In their words
Little Girl is a book of poetry encompassing my personal journey from childhood to adulthood. The works speak on larger social issues, as well as a troubled home life, and the effects of being an adult diagnosed with neurodivergence. Melancholy and hopeful. Truthful, but never cynical.
The book itself has several years worth of work and has a cheerful rhythm reminiscent of Shel Silverstein to contrast the more serious topics. Such as child abuse, sexism, and disability. Its a long-term labor of love, and I hope it'll find the right folks on here
Only ten
Clean hair, nice clothes,
‘What will your father think of those?’
From the tender age of ten.
Taught how to dress for men.
The line between pretty and a whore.
‘Oh you cannot go out that door’  
While the boys grew out of their clothes.
Girls turned into short skirt shows. 
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maxsix · 10 months
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