Category Archives: Culture

The Business of Books or Not: Jane Cable talks to Abby Endler about book blogging for love

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Jane Cable talks to Abby Endler about book blogging for love

 

1) What is your book-related job or business?

I run Crime by the Book, a crime fiction review website and its associated social media accounts. My largest platform is on Instagram (@crimebythebook), where I take photos of the books I’m reading and provide my audience with updates as I read them. I also use Instagram to link to my website, where readers can find reviews, author interviews, and more. Crime by the Book can also be found on Twitter, Facebook, and Goodreads, and has a weekly newsletter as well. Crime by the Book is a passion project – while I would never write off the possibility of turning it into a business down the road, the goal is purely to share a love of books, and as of this moment I don’t make money from it.

2) What is the most rewarding part of it?

I would be hard-pressed to find an element of CBTB that is not rewarding, but if I had to narrow it down, the most rewarding part is the knowledge that I’ve connected readers with books they love. Whether that feedback comes from readers who have bought a book on my recommendation and loved it, or from authors who have seen the enthusiasm of my audience for their book, nothing could be more exciting to me than knowing I’m helping those books find great homes! There’s such an appetite for crime fiction out there, even on a platform like Instagram which is dominated by a younger audience, and I am thrilled and humbled every time I hear from my audience that I’ve helped spark their interest in crime fiction. Likewise, it’s extremely rewarding to hear from authors who are excited by the ways I’ve helped connect their book to those readers!

 

3) What do you consider to be your major successes?

The growth of my platform on Instagram has been a huge success. Crime by the Book just turned two years old, and also just passed 40,000 Instagram followers. As previously mentioned, Instagram does have the reputation of being dominated by a younger audience, so I consider it a huge success that I’ve found footing with a younger demographic! It’s very exciting to me, as a younger crime reader myself, to see my peers connecting with crime books. I also consider every single chance I have to interview an author a major success, whether that author is a big name (authors like Jo Nesbo, Sara Blaedel, and Clare Mackintosh have all appeared on Crime by the Book), or a debut author. No matter the author’s name-recognition, I’m honored to speak with and learn from every single author I interview. It’s a huge privilege!

 

4) Have you always loved books, and what are you reading at the moment?

I’ve loved reading for as long as I can remember. I started reading mysteries when I was very young – I started with Nancy Drew! And then as I grew up, I transitioned into Agatha Christie, James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell… and my love of reading crime books has just evolved and grown from there. At the moment, I’m reading ORDEAL by Jorn Lier Horst. This Norwegian crime book is part of his William Wisting series, and is the newest installment to be released in the US. I love this series for its detailed portrayal of police work, and its endearing characters.

 

Bio: Abby Endler is the creator and reviewer behind Crime by the Book, a crime fiction review website and its associated social media accounts. www.crimebythebook.com

 

 

Exclusive An Almond for a Parrot Extract

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Frost loved Sally Gardner’s first adult novel, An Almond for a Parrot so we are very excited to bring you an extract. An Almond for a Parrot follows London’s most famous courtesan, Tully Truegood, from her childhood of neglect in the 18th Century London to an upper-class brothel where decadent excess is a must. Now she is awaiting trial for murder, for which she expects to hang. This is her truth, a letter written to the man she has loved and fears lost…

Chapter One

Newgate Prison, London

I lie on this hard bed counting the bricks in the ceiling of this miserable cell. I have been sick every morning for a week and thought I might have jail fever. If it had killed me it would at least have saved me the inconvenience of a trial and a public hanging. Already the best seats at Newgate Prison have been sold in anticipation of my being found guilty – and I have yet to be sent to trial. Murder, attempted murder – either way the great metropolis seems to know the verdict before the judge has placed the black square on his grey wig. This whore is gallows-bound.

‘Is he dead?’ I asked.
My jailer wouldn’t say.
I pass my days remembering recipes and reciting them to the damp walls. They don’t remind me of food; they are bookmarks from this short life of mine. They remain tasteless. I prefer them that way.

A doctor was called for. Who sent for or paid for him I don’t know, and uncharacteristically I do not care. He was very matter of fact and said the reason for my malady was simple: I was with child. I haven’t laughed for a long time but forgive me, the thought struck me as ridiculous. In all that has happened I have never once found myself in this predicament. I can hardly

believe it is true. The doctor looked relieved – he had at least found a reason for my life to be extended – pregnant women are not hanged. Even if I’m found guilty of murder, the gallows will wait until the child is born. What a comforting thought.

Hope came shortly afterwards. Dear Hope. She looked worried, thinner.

‘How is Mercy?’ I asked.
She avoided answering me and busied herself about my cell. ‘What does this mean?’ she asked, running her fingers over the words scratched on a small table, the only piece of furniture this stinking cell has to offer.

I had spent some time etching them into its worm-eaten surface. An Almond for a Parrot.

‘It’s a title for a memoir, the unanswered love song of a soon- to-be dead bird. Except I have no paper, no pen and without ink the thing won’t write at all.’

‘Just as well, Tully.’
‘I want to tell the truth of my life.’
‘Better to leave it,’ she said.
‘It’s for Avery – not that he will ever read it.’ I felt myself on the brink of tears but I refused to give in to them. ‘I will write it for myself. Afterwards, it can be your bedtime entertainment, the novelty of my days in recipes and tittle-tattle.’

‘Oh, my sweet ninny-not. You must be brave, Tully. This is a dreadful place and…’

‘And it is not my first prison. My life has come full circle. You haven’t answered my question.’

‘Mercy is still very ill. Mofty is with her.’ ‘Will she live?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘And is he alive?’

‘Tully, he is dead. You are to be tried for murder.’
‘My, oh my. At least my aim was true.’
I sank back on the bed, too tired to ask more. Even if Hope was in the mood for answering questions, I didn’t think I would want to know the answers.

‘You are a celebrity in London. Everyone wants to know what you do, what you wear. The papers are full of it.’

There seemed nothing to say to that. Hope sat quietly on the edge of the bed, holding my hand.

Finally, I found the courage to ask the question I’d wanted to ask since Hope arrived.

‘Is there any news of Avery?’
‘No, Tully, there’s not.’
I shook my head. Regret. I am full of it. A stone to worry one’s soul with.
‘You have done nothing wrong, Tully.’
‘Forgive me for laughing.’
‘You will have the very best solicitor.’
‘Who will pay for him?’
‘Queenie.’
‘No, no. I don’t want her to. I have some jewels…’ I felt sick.
‘Concentrate on staying well,’ said Hope.

If this life was a dress rehearsal, I would now have a chance to play my part again but with a more favourable outcome. Alas, we players are unaware that the curtain goes up the minute we take our first gulps of air; the screams of rage our only hopeless comments on being born onto such a barren stage.

 

So here I am with ink, pen and a box of writing paper, courtesy of a well-wisher. Still I wait to know the date of my trial. What to do until then? Write, Tully, write.

With a hey ho the wind and the rain. And words are my only escape. For the rain it raineth every day.

 

Available from amazon.co.uk and waterstones.com

 

Cornish Writing Challenge 2017 Winner: Christopher Joyce

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So The Cornish Writing Challenge 2017 is done and Frost wants to thank Vikki Patis for including us. Frost’s own Jane Cable and Catherine Balavage were two of the judges. Along with Vikki- of course, and Cornish author Angela Britnell. We are now proud to publish the winner: Christopher Joyce.

 

Christopher Joyce from Chichester in West Sussex has been a teacher, waiter, once made Venetian blinds and has worked in a steel works. He is best known for his series of children’s books, ‘The Creatures of Chichester’, where the city’s animals solve the problems created by the Twolegs living there. See www.creaturesofchichester.com for more information.

Read his excellent winning entry below.

 

Mama’s Gonna Float The Gypsum

 

“Hello, what service do you require?”

“All of them. Police, ambulance; there’s someone trapped in the car. Maybe fire brigade. I dunno – send them all!”

I slammed down the phone after giving my directions and threw up in the phone box. I was amazed it was still working as locals had turned it into a mini library. Thank God I was able to get through.

The stench of petrol filled the air mixing with the musty smell of autumn. They’d be here soon.

Breathe, relax.

It had started out quite a normal sort of day. I’d had a delicious lunch at the Waterside restaurant in Flushing, opting for the catch of the day as always. The plan was then to go for a walk along Trefusis Point. We had a lot to talk about.

Kelly was late. She was always bloody late. It drove me mad. After university we’d moved down to Cornwall to run a small pub. It failed miserably in the recession of 2017, but if I’m honest it would have failed anyway. We just didn’t want the same thing anymore. We tried running a mobile coffee shop that toured the festivals, which just drove us even further apart. Being with Kelly twenty-four hours a day was not the answer to resolve our differences.

I checked my watch. 2:35, Where the hell was she? The waiter brought me the dessert menu for the fifth time and I once again pushed it aside. He looked offended. Well, tough. Get over it. I’ve got more to worry about than your tip pal. He muttered to his manager and I wanted to go over and punch him in the face there and then. I counted to ten. Breathe, relax. That’s what the anger management person had taught me. She was as useful as a chocolate teapot. Kelly loved her of course. In fact it was Kelly’s idea. Typical of her new found, hippy-dressing, cosmic-ordering sort of view on life.

The spotty chinned waiter returned again. This time with a piece of paper folded in half. “There’s a message for you, sir,’ he said. I didn’t like the way he stressed the word sir, but I let it go. Another whinging apology from Kelly, no doubt. I opened it and read:

Mama’s gonna float the gypsum.

What sort of bollocks was that? I turned it over and even held it up to the light, half expecting to see a message from Kelly written on the other side, but that’s all it said. Mama’s gonna float the gypsum. Was she playing stupid games? We’d arranged this meeting weeks ago, after endless blocked text messages and unanswered calls she’d agreed to stroll around the headland to talk things through. I bet one of her trendy therapists had put her up to this. I could hear them whispering in her ear. Challenge him. Surprise him. They made me sick.

I didn’t have time for these stupid games. I had to get back to the garden centre. It’s not that I was the boss or anything, but since the break up I’d found some peace amongst the clematis and hydrangeas. I seem to remember that gypsum was a plant food of some sort. It was supposed to improve acid soil. Was she trying to make a reference to my work? That would be typical. She never wanted me to be successful. Ever since I got a first at uni and she got a Desmond. She hated me referring to her 2:2 like that. Yes, she’d studied soil sciences. I bet it’s something to do with that.

Or maybe it’s an anagram? When we first met we’d spend hours in bed going through the puzzle page in the local paper. I rummaged through my backpack for a pencil. There were so many zipped pockets. Why was it always the last one you looked in? I checked my mobile phone in vain. Still no sign of life. I shoved the half eaten peppermints and loose change back into the bag and drew a circle on the piece of paper. I arranged the letters in a random order around the circle. It’s just the sort of thing Kelly used to do. Oh God, I’ll be worshipping bloody crystals next.

After ten minutes of scratching my head. Nothing. Not a Scooby. I stormed out of the restaurant and headed for the woods. It was only when I was half way to the beach that I realised I hadn’t paid my bill. Well, sod him. He shouldn’t have brought me her ridiculous note in the first place.

I pulled up the collar of my down jacket as the ferry from Falmouth spewed out the last remaining emmets with their selfie sticks and iPads already in their hands. I strode on into Kilnquay Woods kicking up the beech mast and relaxing a little as the smell of pine needles and salty sea air filled my lungs. Before long I was clambering along the rocks on the shore line towards the cave where Kelly and I had frolicked in better days. My shoulders relaxed and I undid my jacket. The beach always had this effect on me. I felt at home. I pulled out the scrap of paper from my jacket and read the message again. Mama’s gonna float the gypsum. Was it an old folk song? I vaguely remember a school trip to a gypsum mine in Redruth. Were there once shanty songs sung by full-bosomed lasses as they loaded the gypsum on to boats bound for distant lands? I doubted it.

The sun was dipping below the horizon when I left the shore. The views of Falmouth across the crystal clear water and the sight of kids searching the rock pools for crabs had lifted my spirits. I didn’t care what the note was supposed to mean. I had to admit that although she drove me mad at times I still could not get her out of my head. I decided to stroll back into town and have a long cold pint of Gold Cyder at the Seven Stars.

The cold, golden liquid cleared my mind and I felt the happiest I’d been in months. It was time to put the past behind us and start again. I was on my second, or maybe third pint when I heard the screech of brakes followed by the unmistakeable thud of metal crushing bones. I leapt to my feet knocking the table and half finished cider on to the floor.

‘For God’s sake call an ambulance,’ I screamed at the top of my voice. Nobody moved. The red-headed barmaid continued to flirt with the young men at the bar. The family of four by the door carried on ignoring each other with their eyes glued to their mobile phones. The guys playing darts chalked up another score.

I ran out into the street alone. A woman’s body was crushed in the front seat of the mangled Fiesta. Just her legs with torn tights covered in blood were visible though the smashed windscreen. Another body was slumped beside her, a male in his late twenties, clearly dead at the scene. A young girl pushed her bike down the street as a lady in her later years nervously crossed the road hugging an ugly pug to her chest.

For Christ’s sake what’s wrong with these people. I dashed to the phone box hoping beyond hope that it was still working. It was piled high with books; there was a laminated note stuck to the wall.
This phone box was decommissioned in 2014. Please help yourself to these books dedicated to Kelly and Simon Edgerton, dear to this village. New books are added on a regular basis. This month:

Mama’s Misbehaving (not suitable for children) J Stone
Gonna Make You Mine (young adult) Kay Littleham
Float Fishing for Pike. S B Carter
The Gypsum Mines in the UK Andy McNarble

 

 

The Business of Books: Jane Cable Gets Distracted But Finds She is Not Alone

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Jane Cable gets distracted but finds she is not alone

It’s a small miracle you are reading this article at all, to be honest – and great credit to writer friends who have rallied around to provide me with some content. The thing is, last week I moved house. Long distance and for the first time in over twenty years. Not only did time become an issue, but the mental effort turned my brain into a huge mass of Cornish clotted cream.

I am not the only author suffering from a life event at the moment. Frost’s own Margaret Graham has been in the wars but in typical fashion is seeing the positive: “Falling into a wall recently and breaking my shoulder not only put one hand out of use but a whole brain, it seems to me. I feel that actually giving it a rest is probably not a bad thing. You will find that creativity is better for a bit of a holiday.”

Writer of historical fiction, Rosemary Noble, is also good at seeing the upside of potentially distracting events. “Sometimes you can avoid the stress by burying yourself in writing. I’m thinking of trying to sell my mother’s flat to pay for her care home. The only way I got through that 12 months was writing,” she told me.

There are some everyday distractions which make the list too. Day jobs (most writers have them), family commitments, lack of sleep, paying the bills – even social media – all sap creative energy. Sometimes the good things do as well. Ghost writer and freelance wordsmith Sue Kelso Ryan cited her dog as the biggest culprit – and it was a great excuse to use her lovely picture as well.

Which just goes to show that good things interrupt our writing too. “Having twins,” says media medic and women’s fiction author Carol Cooper. “That knocked writing on the head for a few months. And illness/surgery. You resent having to rest or slow down because it stops you writing.” Although she did manage to create a top-selling practical parenting guide about her experiences once she was able to find the time.

Crises involving other family members which hit without warning seem to have the biggest effect, as fantasy & romance writer and brand strategist Amy Tipper-Hale has just found out: “My boyfriend breaking his leg in Milan after being run over by a motorcyclist, and me having to fly over to be with him so he wasn’t entirely stranded…I thought I’d have plenty of time to write, but it ended up being stressful and exhausting – my mind all over the place, and not a single word written…except this.” Luckily the patient is now at home – and hopefully Amy will get back to writing again soon too.

As for me, now I have unpacked my desk and settled it into its new location, I need to have a plan. I’ve been sitting on the edit notes for my current manuscript for a month or so and my brain is just starting to tick over them. And one thing this house move is meant to achieve is more time to write. Fingers crossed I can make it happen.

As well as those mentioned above, my thanks also go to Barbara Copperthwaite, Victoria Cornwall, Morton S Gray, Wersha Bharadwa, Carol Thomas and Clare Ruel for their contributions.

 

 

One Summer In Tuscany By Domenica De Rosa Book Review

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One Summer In Tuscany By Domenica De Rosa Book Review

It is always interesting reading a book about writers as a writer. I always find it fascinating. I loved the way One Summer in Tuscany is written. It is easy to read and flows very well. Each writer who is heading to Patricia Wilson’s writers’ retreat is a great character, and each is introduced in a quick biography at the beginning. From the mothers who want more from life, to the older people who want to finally publish that book. The setting- an idilic writers retreat in Tuscany- is a good one. It made me want to go on holiday. Domenica de Rosa also has a gift when it comes to writing about food. I was constantly hungry reading about all of the delicious Italian food in this book.

One Summer in Tuscany has all of the ingredients of a great book: a good plot with enough mystery, interesting, well-written characters and good observations. Add in Italy and the food and this book is a winner. The perfect holiday read.

 

Rivalries and romance in a Tuscan paradise. A relaxing writers’ retreat? If only! Perfect holiday reading from Domenica de Rosa, author of the bestselling Dr Ruth Galloway series under the name Elly Griffiths. Previously published as SUMMER SCHOOL.

Patricia Wilson’s carefully composed ads for the writers’ retreat she runs at her thirteenth-century Italian castle promise so much. But while the splendour of their surroundings and chef Aldo’s melanzane never fail to wow the guests, huge maintenance bills and bad news from the bank threaten to close Patricia down. It’s make or break time for the Castello.

Each of her seven aspiring authors arrives with the inevitable baggage alongside their unpublished manuscripts. But this August something is different, and soon lifelong spinster Mary is riding on the back of Aldo’s vespa, and smouldering odd-job man Fabio has set more than one heart racing.

As temperatures rise, the writers gossip, flirt and gently polish their prose by the pool. But with ghosts, scorpions, and some unexpected visitors to contend with, one thing’s for sure: neither the Castello, nor Patricia, has ever seen a summer like this.

 

One Summer In Tuscany By Domenica De Rosa is available here.

Business of Books: Jane Cable talks to Barbara Copperthwaite, Bookouture’s latest best-selling author

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Business of Books: Planning for successJane Cable talks to Barbara Copperthwaite, Bookouture’s latest best-selling author

How much of your working life does the business of books take up?

It’s almost a 50/50 split. A huge part of the business of books is social media activity. Networking with fellow authors and bloggers, and interacting with readers is so important. It builds relationships, and ultimately I believe that the business of books is about people. Marketing takes up a huge chunk of time, be it generating original content for your own website and blog (I have both, as I find they service slightly different purposes and appeal to different people) or writing guest posts for others to use. Of course, the rest of the time is spend actually writing the books!

 

What’s your business model to earn a living from writing?

I always remember my dad telling me that a new business takes an average of two years to make a profit. I went into self-publishing my books with that in the back of my mind, and very much thinking of it as an entrepreneurial venture. I ensured I had enough money behind me to survive for two years without making any profit at all. It’s been tough, but I had a three-year plan in mind – self-publish for two years, make a name for myself, make contacts, then get a publishing deal.

I was stupidly naïve though. I’d never had a Twitter or Facebook account, and no clue that book reviewers even existed online, let alone had such huge influence. Despite that, my first book, Invisible, became a genre bestseller on Amazon. Flowers For The Dead, my second novel, built on that success, becoming not just a genre bestseller but a bestseller, proper – largely because I had by then built up a small but genuine following on social media. Incidentally, for those who dismiss social media as unimportant, you are missing its point. It is not about shouting continually about how great your book is and why people must buy it. It’s about genuinely engaging with people.

All of this begs the question: if I was doing so well, why did I want a publishing deal? Because I know enough about business to realise I am not a natural business person. I have the knowledge and drive to get me so far, but I’m not capable of pushing myself to the next level. The most successful self-published authors I know are not just brilliant writers, but brilliant business people, too. They are great with numbers, marketing, and all manner of other things. I’m not – I’m a writer. Of all the publishers, the one that appealed most to me was Bookouture, a digital only publisher that is growing quickly, has a reputation for picking winners, and is really making waves in the industry (so much so that they were recently acquired by Hachette). I was lucky enough to be taken on by them after submitting my third novel, The Darkest Lies.

I have to add that the fact everything in my three-year plan has actually happened has taken me hugely by surprise, as I honestly thought it was probably a pipe dream.

 

What do you write and what do you consider to be your major successes?

 

I write psychological thrillers with a dark edge. I like to explore how ordinary people cope when they find themselves in extraordinary circumstances, what can push someone to kill, how a person can be manipulated without them realizing it. I always say that I write ‘whydunits’ rather than ‘whodunits’.

 

My major successes don’t necessarily have anything to do with selling a lot of books. It might sound cheesy, but every single time someone tells me they’ve enjoyed one of my books, is a success. Becoming a bestseller for the first time was absolutely incredible, as was being signed by my agent, and being offered my book deal (there was a lot of shouting and jumping up and down in excitement when I got that email!). Beating Lee Child to be chosen as the Sunday Mirror’s Choice Read was definitely a feather in my cap – little old indie author me, beating a multi-million selling, global author. Being contacted by a number of women who have told me how realistic my portrayal of an emotionally abusive relationship is in Invisible. All those things mean the world to me. They are the sort of thing I used to day dream about, and hoped might happen, but never dared believe they would. In which case, fact that my dreams are coming true has to be my biggest success.

Tell me about your latest project.

The Darkest Lies has just been published. When teenager Beth Oak is found beaten almost to the point of death, her mother, Melanie is determined to find the attacker. Someone in the village must have seen something. Why won’t they talk?

I’ve just finished writing a psychological thriller set within a seemingly normal family in the run up to Christmas. As the festive day draws closer, tension grows towards an explosive ending where nothing is as it seems. That will be out in September.

And, because I like to keep busy, I’ve just started a novel featuring a journalist who finds herself drawn reluctantly into investigating a serial killer who seems to be linked to her.

 

Barbara Copperthwaite is the best-selling author of psychological thrillers Invisible, Flowers For The Dead, and The Darkest Lies. Her first two novels were self-published, and she has now signed with Bookouture, an imprint of Hachette. When not writing, she likes to hide behind a camera and photograph wildlife.

 

 

GAWP: New Writing Prize Launched

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FLIPSIDE LAUNCHES GREEN ALPHABET WRITING COMPETITION
The deadline is July 31

writing-competitionFlipSide, East Anglia’s leading literary and arts festival, has launched an enviromentally-themed competition aimed at writers of all ages and for which entries are now open.

The competition, which carries cash prizes, will be judged by leading authors Jackie Kay, the Scots Makar (poet laureate), Blake Morrison, writer and Professor of Creative and Life Writing at Goldsmiths College and Jon Canter, novelist and playwright.

“We are looking for inspirational writing about the environment,” says Liz Calder, co-founder of FlipSide. “We hope to encourage writers to think creatively about their surroundings and how to care for them.”

Submissions must take any letter of the alphabet and use it in a piece of writing on a green theme – poetry, fiction or non-fiction. Prose entries should be no more than 500 words and poems no more than 40 lines. Entries could include some visual art. The deadline is 31st July, 2017. All entries will be considered for inclusion in a forthcoming anthology.

The competition is split into adults (First prize: £500) and under 16s (First prize: £200). The deadline is July 31.

Full competition details and instructions on how to enter can be found on the FlipSide website : www.flipsidefestival.org

The Business of Books: Publish and Don’t be Damned

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Jane Cable’s big lessons from self publishing

At the moment I’m juggling. Even more than ever with a house move and Chindi’s talks at the Festival of Chichester both approaching at a frightening pace. And juggling means making the best use of my time, so when I was thinking about the biggest lessons I’ve learnt for Chindi’s self publishing workshop I thought they would make a good article as well.

Put simply, they fall into two categories.

  1. Your book may be self published but it has to be as good as anything brought out by a major house – if not better. You can’t afford for it to look out of place in a bookshop or on people’s shelves at home. Cover design, shape and size are hugely important.The content has to be perfect too – and I mean perfect. You are asking people to pay for your work and this is a total game-changer. How would you feel if you picked up badly stitched shirt – or a book full of typos where the plot didn’t hang together?The best single piece of advice I can give any would-be author is that if you are tempted to publish your book without anyone else looking at it first, then don’t. Even the super-talented have lapses of concentration and mistakes creep in. At least have some sort of edit or proof read. Follow your gut instinct as to which would be the most important for you.

    Basically there are three main sorts of edit: structural (which evaluates the whole manuscript and how well it works as a novel); copy (studies the manuscript line by line for spelling, grammar and consistency); proof read (works on the print or ebook ready version for formatting and a final check on spelling and grammar).

    It’s always best to pay a professional but if you really can’t afford it and/or have a super-careful relative or friend at least get them to proof it. You’ve spent so long nurturing your manuscript you just won’t see all the mistakes yourself.

  2. You will spend at least as much time marketing as writing and you need to do it. You have no-one else to do it for you, unless you can afford professional help.Before your book comes out, cover the basics: think about who your target audience are, how you are going to reach them and how/where they are going to buy your book. You will be in a very crowded market. How is your book different? How can you make it sound unique and enticing?Although I had some background in PR and promotion, when my first novel, The Cheesemaker’s House, came out I was clueless about book publicity. I had arranged for a former colleague to do some PR for me, but that was it. Pretty soon I had to learn about social media, book bloggers, AI sheets, collateral. Because I had chosen an assisted publishing route with Matador it was easier, but I still needed to invest a huge amount of time.

    There are, however, great resources available: books (such as Chindi’s Before You Press Publish), online (ALLi – The Alliance of Independent Authors), blogs and of course groups like Chindi which exist to help you and provide mutual support. When I joined Chindi my marketing came on in leaps and bounds and as the group becomes more online we welcome authors from around the world.Even if you move into the world of traditional publishing these skills are hugely important and it’s always worth remembering that ultimately you are responsible for your book’s success.Find out more about Chindi’s author resources here: http://www.chindi-authors.co.uk/for-writers/