Market Day

It's Market Day in Springfield and the sun is already high in the sky. Customers throng the aisles and booths lining up, waiting for the 8:00 am bell before they can purchase their breads and peppers, flowers and tomatoes. I pass a solitary guitarist perched on a stool, his glass tip jar at his feet. Throngs of people pass through, undaunted by the heat and humidity. The market is filled with incessant babble, some of it Indian, or Latino, all mixed sounds reminding me of our common root - food.

A local bread vendor, Katie Made, and I get into a discussion about Anadama bread, which I used to make for my kids when they were young. I haven't made that bread in years and I wonder why. When your kids are little, you think you don't have time to make homemade goods but you do anyway, or I did. Now my kids are grown and one is away and I still don't make homemade bread. It was a great pleasure of mine too. At any rate, the vendor and me laugh at the origin of the name, Anadama, and I pick up a loaf of something I've never tried before - Van Staden Mosbolletjies. She tells me it's a south African bread and has a hint of licorice. She says that people resist it at first because of the licorice flavor but once they try it, they come back and buy two loaves. A new bread, a new taste adventure.

My favorite pepper growers are here now. I spy glistening green peppers as big as a man's fist on their table and I quickly buy four, along with some onions. I see stuffed green peppers on my table in the near future.

I run into a vendor, someone I knew in Mountain Grove, and he tells me again that I sure look like my daddy. I guess it depends on who you talk to because I've heard that I look exactly like my dad and I've been told I look exactly like my mother. Either way, you can tell who I belong to.

A quart of blackberries (for a desert I'll have to find the recipe for), two pounds of green beans and a bouquet of pink and white gladiolas later,  I'm ready to head for the car and my water bottle I left there accidentally.

I love coming to the market. It's a reminder of who we all are on this planet and what we all want, which is to be loved, nurtured and accepted. And it's part of the writing life, I believe, to surround yourself with the things you love and appreciate  and allow those things to nurture your soul.

What do you think? Do you agree?

Marketing - Who Knew?

Yesterday, I attended the Ozark Romance Authors meeting. Local author, Beth Carter, was the speaker and her topic was Marketing.

It seems that, as writers, we shy away from marketing and Beth talked about this in her presentation. We're a bit reticent to even say, "I wrote a book," fearing maybe that eyes will roll and we'll be dismissed as "that dreamy type." Now, we all see the television ads from lawyers, or lawyer/surgeons, window installers, roofers, insect removal services, the best chef on the planet, etc. We take all that in and we don't think another thing about it as far as relating it to writing. In fact, Beth mentioned yesterday that in her 20-year career in marketing, working for a bank and then for a hospital, that she never saw that type of reticence in any field, except for the writing field. She's worked with and for doctors, bankers, attorneys, all types of professionals who just love to promote themselves and their work and are not shy about doing so at all.

She said something yesterday that put it all in perspective for me. Beth said, "Marketing is not bragging." And she made us all say it three times. Marketing is not bragging.

It's a simple statement.

At the same time, it's astounding.

And, it's empowering.

Beth talked about "targeted marketing." In other words, know your target audience, and market to that audience specifically. A Facebook post leads to a Twitter tweet, a blogpost to a website, leads to a mass email list, leads to asking for reviews on your book, leads to a booth at a county festival, on and on, the list is endless. Probably the most important advice from Beth here is to think outside the bookstores.

We, as writers, have so many opportunities to market ourselves and gain credibility to get the attention of an editor or agent. The internet, technology, it's amazing and it puts us anywhere, everywhere, for that matter.

Marketing is critical for the writer. And remember what Beth said, "Marketing is not bragging."

At the end of her presentation, Beth had all of us sign a Marketing Pledge, which I thought was a really clever and unique way to end the presentation. I learned a lot from Beth yesterday and I'm going to put what I learned to use as I continue on this writing road.

How about you? How are you marketing your work?

All quotes, advice and references given remain the property of Beth Carter. Beth graciously gave me permission to restate her words, "Marketing is not bragging," as well as using other pieces of her presentation.

Surprise, surprise, surprise!!!

I'm struggling with the title of this post; don't want to come off as a know-it-all, a fabulous someone writer who's ARRIVED, and therefore, no longer needs the unwashed masses, because truly, seriously, someone previously unknown to me, handed me a break.

And I never expected it. And I'm not sure I even deserve it.

Oh my gosh, no, I didn't see this thing coming.

So, to cut to the chase,  a friend suggested to his friend who was writing a book at the time, that he should contact me to edit or give the manuscript a look over or whatever. My expectations were, when I was contacted, that I would be the unnamed, unknown editor, happily, I would stay behind the scenes and just help this manuscript on to be published and no big deal to me. I was happy and pleased to help. I was content to stay in the background and allow the real writer, the person this experience happened to, to write the book.

But. Isn't life funny with the "buts?" I often say, "We plan and God laughs." Because He does!!! No joke.

So, I worked the first 25 or so pages, sent it back to the author and he responded and said, "Would you consider co-authoring this book?" My first reaction was, "No, no, this is your story, no, I cannot take any credit for this." We worked awhile longer together and he again said, "Would you consider being a co-author?" I again resisted. But, he persisted; he told me to give it some thought, and eventually, I gave in. And here is my news, I am going to be the co-author of someone's book.

I never thought I would work a project such as this. He is a Christian author; I am not. Now, I do understand the thoughts and feelings he puts out there in his manuscript and I can go with it. I understand being the last kid picked for kickball. I understand being held as different by my peers. I understand being excluded because of religious perceptions, and so knowing that kind of hurt, I can write about it. Maybe this book is cathartic for the both of us. The writing is coming to me easily; there must be a reason for that.

The photo I posted is beautiful, nebulous, everything about writing that writing is meant to be. It's an example of what I'm feeling right now; the bursting of excitement, the thrill of doing what I want to do with  my life; the dimensions and color of hope and expectation; but it's the feeling of certainty too, of fulfilling a purpose, my life's purpose.

Whereever this book thing came from, it came from a providence that I am only beginning to get to know. I am astounded, eternally grateful, and very, very pleased. I so miss my mother right now; because I would have told her about this; we would have talked for a very long time, and she would be so happy, so pleased, about it. My mother would have been so excited and happy for me. I hope somewhere, somehow, she knows and I'm hoping she's jumping up and down in gloryland or wherever she is.

Tell me about your experience with writing and becoming acknowledged, and achieving your writing goals.

Spring

She comes like a ghost, spring's sprite, nymph, fairy, whatever you wish to call her. She is the earth coming alive after a long slumber. Midnight blue monarchs cling to her gown, she carries lettuce ripe with the scent of deep earth in her hands, her eyes are as blue as the sky. Her youth and beauty cannot be described for she is young and untried; she knows nothing of the wantonness of Summer, the busyness of Autumn, the wiles of Winter.

Spring brings with her the colors of enchantment; pastels, pink, pale blue, gentle green, yellow and apricot.  She glides easily amongst emerald green spinach, white-green lettuces, green asparagus tight heads tipped in deep green or purple. Spring is charming and generous, bringing rain at night and sunlight in the morning. Her desire is to please, whether it be with generous rainfall to further plantings, or the prettiness of blooming forsythia, redbuds, dogwoods, or tiny bluebells at the foot of a budding maple tree.

Spring Sprite is in love with beauty, and why not? She is in love with herself and so by bringing herself joy, she brings joy to mere mortals as well.

Springtime is the time of fairies; fairies flexing their wings and prancing under primroses, of twinkling lights in the dark, when vague wishes can come true. Spring promises hope, the promise of good things to come. If only she could stay with us longer....

What is your definition of spring?

The Sweetness of Success

Sometimes something happens that is so stupendous, so wonderful, so staggering, that it makes you sit down and take a very long breath. So much can happen in the blink of an eye, yes?

Yes. Yes, it can.

I am so pleased, more than pleased really, I am estatic to report that my online writer friend, Julie Kibler, had her debut novel published February 13th, and a month later (to the day I believe), Warner Brothers picked up her manuscript to adapt for a movie!

Here is the link, if you are interested.
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/warner-bros-picks-up-rights-427984

Now seriously, how often does this happen? I'd wager, not too often. It's incredible news, fabulous stuff, and Julie deserves every accolade she is receiving. Julie's worked hard on this manuscript, giving up her job, working as hard at writing as she did at her job and now, after all the toil and trevail, Julie triumphs!

And here's another really great thing about this whole situation. Julie is a nice, credible, warm, wonderful person. I can't say enough nice things about her. She's just great.

Have I read the book? Absolutely.

Do I like it? I can tell you this, I worried about the characters after I closed the book for the night. I surmised and imagined and wondered, and looked forward to my next engagement with the book, and as I read the last few paragraphs, I burst into tears. That's how invested I became in this book. So, did I like it? Yes, yes I did. Very much in fact.

Julie's debut novel is a smashing success. Kudos to her.

It can be done. The dream is not dead; it's just waiting for you, the next fabulous writer to make the scene. It's coming for you.

What will you give it?

After a Dry Spell Comes the Rain

The most interesting things happen sometimes when you're not even looking, when you least expect it, and isn't that what makes life interesting? Sometimes it seems that we endure spells as dry as the Sahara and then, out of nowhere, it starts raining. Not just raining but torrents of water pouring down.

Recently, I had the opportunity to sit in on a presentation by the original editor of the first volume of "Fifty Shades of Grey," and in listening to her speak, I realized, marketing your brand is the most important thing, I think, maybe even more important than having a quality product. I mean, everybody knows "Fifty Shades" is a trainwreck but one thing E.L. James understood was the market. She understood she had to get to the market and corner a huge chunk of it to get her brand to sell, to keep her in the driver's seat, and make her a, well, a millionaire. That was what she wanted. And yes, that does sound crass but I believe that E.L. James, like many of us fledging authors, was looking at the grand prize and not so much the product. She couldn't have been looking at the product.

Sadly, that is a trap that too many writers fall into these days and since it is so easy to upload to Amazon and Kindle, polish and professionalism have suffered. Is that a stamp on writing in general? No, I don't think so. I believe that earnest, hardworking, professional writers are still out there. Or at least, I am, and I know I'm not the only one.

Now, another interesting thing happened to me. As the president of the Springfield Writers' Guild, I rub elbows with a lot of writerly people in the community, and one of these people told me recently that she would send me an invitation to the Missouri Writers Hall of Fame banquet, to be held in March. I jumped up and down with glee but deep down inside I wondered, would she remember? With all of the other, more important people she deals with every day, would she remember little old me? Well, I was estatic when I spied that silver grey envelope in my mailbox addressed to me, and the invitation to RSVP. Inductee this year: Ridley Pearson. Oh boy, this means a new dress, a new hairdo, some perfume. It's gonna be a blast and I can't wait.

And then the last thing (so far). A publishing company in St. Louis randomly emailed me and wanted to advertise their services. Did this fall into my lap or what?

It's moments like these that reaffirm what we're meant to do, why we're here. If writing is your passion, it's going to find  you. You can't hide from it. It won't let you.

What are the odd and wonderful coincidences that have happened to you?

A Quieter Life

I saw this photo the other day and I found myself staring, not at it, but into it. I couldn't help but think, I could live this way, just this way, so simple, so quiet. The thought of pulling my boots on, wrapping up in a Macintosh, carrying my bag to the market, padding quietly over cobblestone streets, the ding of the bell on the market door, the pleasant, welcoming faces within. "Oh, are you back so soon? I have something I've held back just for you," the proprietor/proprietress would exclaim, as he/she drops the present customer's items in his bag.

Wandering around the fresh produce, I choose maybe some brussel sprouts or a long necked squash, some walnuts, a couple of pears, and then onto the meat counter, where I would select a chicken breast or a nice piece of fresh fish. A bottle of pinot grigio in my bag and I approach the counter, where the owner slips a beautiful piece of cheese into my bag and winks at me.

We have a good community feeling here in my daydream. I wave at the owner of the market and the door bell dings as I walk out. Maybe as I walk back home to my cottage, I'll take the long way and spend a few minutes gazing at the sunset lying gently over the ocean.

Wal-Mart does not exist here. No bright lights, no running, screaming children, and no screaming parents either. No stop lights, no traffic crush, no urgency to carry out unfulfilling obligations. In fact, what this place has to offer is peace, calm, and a gentle comfort.

What about you? Has a photograph ever inspired you to think, I could live here?