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The cats have accused me, yet again, of being entirely too “whiney” about this book marketing stuff. They told me that they tried their best to ignore it the last couple of days — Nick by going under the covers and Rose by wrapping her fat self into the smallest ball a 15 pound cat can manage — but it hasn’t helped. My “poor me” moans have penetrated their sound barriers, and, my most serious offence, I have disturbed quite a few minutes of their 18 hours of sleep. That is no laughing matter — at least not to these cats who have little, if any, sense of humor.

I tried to defend myself. I told them I absolutely have not been moaning. In fact, I don’t think I moaned since my last menstrual cramps and that was more years ago than I care to remember. It’s all semantics, they counter. Moaning/Whining/Complaining or even just plain old Feeling Sorry for Myself — it all sounds the same to them and they want me to stop it right this minute. I remind them that they didn’t have to worry about this “marketing” stuff when they were out there looking for a home. No siree, they had someone to do it for them — postering, head shots, script writing, publicity — the whole shebang. I have proof. They’re having none of that argument. I showed them

Poster Boy Nick "Elvis"

Poster Boy Nick “Elvis”

the poster. Nick became distracted purring how irresistible he was as an “Elvis”.  Rose hissed to get him back to the present complaint against me. I relented and admitted they were right — mainly because there’s two of them and they have eight paws with very sharp nails on them (I lost the clippers). The discussion was over.

Truth be told, I have been shuffling around the house this week spending more time fretting about not getting anything done than actually sitting down and doing something. I know what I need to do. I even have a road map. A few weeks ago, Sarah, my Amazing Social-Media and All-Things-Technical Guru, came over to Help Ann Get Organized. She is a whiz. Sarah took my list of random marketing thoughts and morphed them into a color-coded, spread-sheeted Book Marketing 6-Week Plan. It’s beautiful. My Capricorn-self was in awe. There before me with just the click of a mouse was my workload for the next six weeks. I, naturally, tackled the easiest-to-cross-off thing first. All list makers know that you have to have something that you can finish fast on the list so you don’t get mired in the mud of thinking about all those big, big projects and not completing anything. So I started with “Email Randall”. “Done” — I proudly inserted in the cell next to that chore. Something was finished; I was feeling good.

I was even inspired to turn to the first thing on the chart — “Draft Press Release”.  Hmm, a little more daunting but I really couldn’t move forward without it, eh?  It is very different writing a book or a blog or that email to Randall than drafting a press release. I did my Google research, knew what needed to be included to knock-the-socks off anyone who would read it. But when I put the words down, I didn’t think it would even get them to untie their shoes let alone get rid of the socks. I worked on and when I had a better draft I sent it off to my Communications Expert nephew, Lovely Lou, who shook it into the right shape that changed it into a press release. I’m so impressed with how editors and nephews can do that.  “Done.” 

I was on a roll. “Draft Cover Letter” — “Done,” “Research Independent Bookstores”, “Done”. I was ready to get Mediterranean Journey out there. And then I made the mistake of reading an article in the Huffington Post that basically said that if you’re an “Indie” (i.e., self published) author you might as well just forget about getting your book into bookstores or anywhere else. You are “marginalized.” It made me fell less than I know I am. That’s when the whining started. It’s hard to get anything worthwhile accomplished when you are in a whiney mood — the cats are shaking their head in agreement for once.

I wrote to a friend about all my head-bashing on this whole marketing stuff and the downer article and how hard it all was and really, was it worth it? Whining is so unbecoming in an email. She should have just ignored me, but, she, being a sometimes wiser woman than I, wrote back, “Yes, that is all hard work — but you’re having some adventures while doing it.” She’s right, I absolutely am! Why didn’t I think of it that way, eh? (The cats are sighing loudly.) So I get rejected by some, so what! So there’s folks out there who won’t look at an “Indie” Author, so what to that too! I’m doing it anyway and isn’t the “doing” the whole idea of an adventure?

The cats, meanwhile, are sending silent “Thank you’s” across the street to the writer of that email for putting at least a momentary end to the whining.

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