Little Help Please

Hello Everybody,

As you probably know, self-published authors have a huge mountain to climb when it comes to breaking through the barriers setup by mega-publishers wanting to keep us at bay. Their collective attitude boils down to this. If you aren’t a previously published bestseller, don’t call us because we will never call you.

Okay. I’m a big boy in more ways than one and I understand that the game is rigged from the start. But miracles do happen and I refuse to give up on my dream. No, that doesn’t mean being a bestselling author; I don’t need riches or fame. All I need is enough to pay the bills and maybe take the family out once a month to a sit-down dinner.

Still, I refuse to give up but I’m not beyond asking for help. So here it is. I’m creating a video to promote PNTP and the production company wants me to get as many fresh reviews as possible. In the past, I’ve been remiss in asking for reviews because it’s hard for me to do. I don’t know why. I guess it’s just me. So anyway, now I’m asking. If you’ve already read PNTP please go to

https://www.amazon.com/Positives-Negatives-Tricycles-Pancakes-Pollack-ebook/dp/B00MZD3A98?ie=UTF8&keywords=L.%20Davyd%20Pollack&qid=1465056786&ref_=sr_1_4&sr=8-4

and tell me what you think.

If you haven’t read PNTP go to www.LDavydPollack.com . All my eBooks are priced at $1 including PNTP. You simply can’t beat the price. And just to show you that I’m not in it for the money; I’ll be willing to trade a free copy of any eBook for a review. All you have to do is go to my website contact page and ask me for one.

Thanks in advance for all your help,

Davyd

 

 

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Trump and Bush, Pot and Kettle – 1

Normally, I don’t bring political discussion to this blog unless it has something to do with writing. But I have a few pet peeves and this one has finally made it to the forefront, so I’ve decided that it’s time to talk about it. By the way, here’s my disclaimer. Yes, I’m a contemporary fiction writer and no, the things I’m going to tell you are not imaginary. It really happened.

First, let me set the scene. Apparently, a few nights ago the New Hampshire Republican Primary Debate took place. I don’t know if it was broadcasted nationally and quite frankly, it doesn’t matter to me. All I can tell you is—if I could have watched it, I wouldn’t have. I live in Florida, not New Hampshire. It’s why I wasn’t interested enough to find out if the debate was televised and it’s why I am eminently qualified to write this post.

The candidates are currently using the divide and conquer strategy, which means they pair off and rather than attack the democrats as a cohesive group, they attack each other. Good for the democrats, I suppose. Anyway, one of the most talked about and heated exchanges happened between Donald Trump and Jeb Bush and it had to do with the subject of eminent domain. If you are a reader of my blog then I know by definition that you are intelligent and understand completely the concept of eminent domain. But for those of you who are new and haven’t begun to absorb the brilliance of L. Davyd Pollack (through osmosis), eminent domain is where the government can come and take your stuff. It doesn’t matter what it is or how much it’s worth. They take it from you and they pay you what they want. It’s never a fair price and the average Joe or Josephine losses big time. Furthermore, even if you have connections with the government, the price is never fair, of course in this situation, the government pays too much and the tax payer (Joe and Josephine) gets hosed, again.

Okay, back to Trump and Bush. During the debate the back-and-forth escalated and both candidates were talking over each other to the point where Trump shushed Bush. Members of the audience could be heard groaning in response to the shushing to which Trump responded. He did it by calling out the few noise makers as part of the donor class and he was right. I’m here to tell you that Trump is hitting the nail on the head.

While Trump may have used eminent domain when he was a businessman, not a candidate for political office, Jeb used it when he served as Governor. And he did it in order to pay back a debt to one of his biggest political donors. In the spirit of full discloser, I voted for Jeb twice and . . . hindsight is 20/20. I would never vote for him again, for anything . . . ever!

The reason? It’s a bit long and somewhat convolute which is why I’ve broken it up into two posts. I will do my best not to bore you with the follow up. And Mr. Trump, if by any chance you have someone on your staff looking for a heads up from a very small voice hidden amongst the masses on the internet, I have something you may want to explore. In Jeb’s case it reeks of hypocrisy (the pot calling the kettle black). He accused you of using eminent domain in an attempt to acquire the property of an elderly woman. Well, in Jeb’s case there was no attempt, he actually has confiscated private property all over the state of Florida and here’s the kicker, it wasn’t real estate. Furthermore, some of that property belonged to me and there is no doubt in my mind that some of that property also belonged to elderly women.

The down and dirty is in Trump and Bush, Pot and Kettle – 2

Why I’m Glad January is Over

There are more than just one or two reasons why I’m glad January is over, but there is only one I’m willing to talk about today. As a writer of contemporary fiction, I’m always trying to find new and better ways to promote my work. Part of that includes enlisting the help of paid consultants, whose advice (since I paid for it), holds a lot of weight. By the way, so do I: this will be clear in a moment.

One of the things we writers have to do is internet marketing through blog posts. Personally, I like blogging, except when I’m told that I have to do it. Which is also why I like being an indy writer. There’s no publisher, agent, or editor hounding me about deadlines. I write what I want, when I want. It’s great for the creative mind; not so much for the creative wallet.

Anyway, my internet marketing consultant suggested that I write one blog post per week. I countered with one per month citing my full-time job as the excuse for not having time for more. Eventually, we settled on two per month and that really is a reasonable expectation.

As it is, January came and was more than three weeks old with no blog posts by yours truly. My marketing guy noticed the deficiency and in an entirely professional manner, meant only as a well meaning suggestion, sent me an email with ideas for a blog post. He said January is an awareness month and that I should consider this list as possible topics.

 

Weight Loss Awareness Month [1]

National Codependency Awareness Month [2]

National Mentoring Month (United States)

Stalking Awareness Month (United States)[3]

Slavery and Human Trafficking Prevention Month (United States)[4]

Healthy Weight Week (United States)[5]

 

Okay. I get the main idea of an awareness month designation is to bring difficult issues that may go unnoticed into the public eye. But . . . for those of you who have never met me, I’m about 5-7 and 235 lbs. And in case you haven’t already noticed, January, the month after all the gluttonous holidays are over—begins and ends with weight loss.

Bahhhhh – Humbug!

I know that treadmill is under this pile of clothes somewhere.

 

Alley Cats to a T-Bone

In my last couple of posts, I tried to illustrate why it’s so hard for an author to make a living by writing. Hopefully, I succeeded in that endeavor so that this post will be well received. The truth is, as authors, we’re just way too close to our work to effectively sell it. That’s why we have a hard time doing things like writing blurbs and synopses.

Quite frankly, I’m probably like 99.9% of all other authors who can’t figure out why it’s so hard to get the word out. Hell, all you have to do to find a dozen alley cats is throw a day old T-Bone out the window an viola, cats. I may not know much, but I’m pretty sure my fictional musings are better than a leftover T-Bone.

At least one can hope.

Anyway, when it comes to marketing I was stumped once again with the same old question. What else can a writer do to get the word out? So, I enlisted the help of Miranda. For those who don’t know, she’s my girlfriend, my brown-eyed girl, capable of seeing past my obstacle of close proximity (reference my last two posts).

When I asked her what she thought I should do, she responded like someone tasked with pointing out an elephant in the room. She said, “Why don’t you write an interactive post. People like getting involved and this way you can enlist the help of others too.” The not just me implication sunk in later.

Needless to say, my proximity disability immediately kicked in and it took her another half hour to explain why this was a good idea. I’m still skeptical but here it goes. A big part of marketing is getting the word out, and to that end, I put forward this challenge:

To all my followers (Blog, FB, Twitter),

While you are reconnecting with family and friends as the holidays approach, take a moment to mention this new novelist you came across. His name is L. Davyd Pollack and he has some interesting things to say. Check out his website and blog. He’s also on FB and Twitter.

Notice that I didn’t say anything about buying a book. The challenge here is to get the word out to at least ten new followers in all fifty states (not 57, I’m not greedy). That’s it, ten new followers in each of these United States. And for the new followers, make sure to touch base with a post to let me know your home state.

Thank you all for your help and hope you have a wonderful Holiday Season.

BTW, and this is not part of the challenge, but if any of my followers are looking for a gift that their special someone doesn’t already have, try one of my books  . . . Just saying.

Happy Holidays to all,

Davyd

 

Books Be That . . . My Child

Let’s see.

Where do I start?

I wish this subject were something

near and dear to my heart.

 All rhyming aside, it really would make my life as an author a whole lot more convenient. But then, I wouldn’t be a writer, I’d be a marketing manager or more specifically, a book marketing manager working on ways to market my books. That’s what I want to talk about today, book marketing. And yes, it’s an absurd subject for anyone who considers themselves a real novelist. Here’s why.

 I’m going to assume that any adult reading this will be able to empathize with the following scenario regardless of their parental status. And to broaden the range, if you aren’t a parent but do consider your pet(s) as part of the family, that will do nicely. OK, back to being an author who is expected to be able to make a living from selling his or her books.

 Selling your own book should be an almost impossible task, and if it isn’t, I personally think there is something seriously wrong with you. Picture yourself standing behind a table with portraits of your children, and /or pets displayed proudly. Don’t worry; you’re not the only one. It’s a big room (as in book fair), and there are a hundred other people doing the exact same thing.

 

Suddenly, a stranger who you’ve never seen before and probably will never see again, walks up to your table, picks up the picture of your first-born son and says, “How much for this one?”

You smile with glee and pride, “$14.95.”

Remember, you are not selling portraits; you are selling your heart and soul. As far as you’re concerned, it’s a steal at twice the price. But your customer says, “Oh, I didn’t realize he was that expensive. How much for that one?” The customer points to the picture of a much smaller child, your first-born daughter.

“$8.95.”

The customer doesn’t even touch your daughter’s picture. Instead, she starts to back away.

 You think fast and before you have a chance to rationalize the consequences, you shout, “I’m running a special for today only. Both children for $19.95, while they last.”

 A second smile appears, but this one is on the face of your customer. She isn’t smiling because she just bought two brand new and beautiful children: children, both of whom represent the best of your being. No. She’s smiling because she just bought them for a discount.

Davyd

 

2015 (fall) Meet The Authors Book Fair

So here I am, back after an eight-month hiatus from blogging. Why so long and why am I back now? Well, first and foremost, I have something interesting to talk about. However, it isn’t writer related. Rather, its publisher related and for once, it’s good news. BTW, in case you don’t already know, I’m self-published.

 

That said, here we go. November 21st & 22nd was the weekend of the Fall Meet The Authors Book Fair sponsored by Authors For Authors. You can visit them at www.authorsforauthors.com to find out more about what they do. Anyway, as for the book fair, it was my first time participating in the Fall Extravaganza and I had high hopes for a glorious triumph in sales. There was just one problem . . . it rained on Saturday and then, it rained on Sunday. Yeah, you guessed it. Traffic was slow and just to illustrate how slow, many of my fellow authors wrote off the entry fee and packed up early due to a lack of sales.

 

Fortunately for me, I have some retail experience so I know that sometimes you get sales just because you’re the only one left with something to sell. This was the thought that kept me, along with my outstanding sales crew (Miranda and the kids), going through those long and rainy days.

 

It was a good thing too because at about 2:30 p.m. on Sunday, L. Davyd Pollack sold out. Yes, for the first time ever, I sold out. Yep, did I mention the fact that I sold out? That’s right—I sold out. And . . . yeah, I sold out . . . Okay, Okay, I won’t bore you with any more bragging about how I went to a book fair on Saturday with two big boxes of books and when I left the book fair on Sunday, those big boxes were empty. Why? Because I sold out.

 

But the truth is; I couldn’t have done any of it without the help of everyone who got up from the couch, got in their cars, braved the ugly skies, and came out to the Meet The Authors Book Fair. Even if you didn’t buy a book, I want to thank you. And for those of you who did buy, I sincerely hope you enjoy your new read. You have purchased a small treasure written by an author with a fresh voice, that hasn’t been homogenized into the reprocessed regurgitations of commercial writers with big brand names and little else. Every self-published author has poured their heart and soul into the book you are about to read and all that work was done for free (no million-dollar advances here). So keep an open mind and a forgiving heart when you come across something that isn’t quite right.

 

As for those of you who bought a book from me, I just have two things left to say. Thank you and . . . uh—all sales are final.

 

 

Are You a Father or Are You a Mechanic?

As you probably already figured out, I’m a writer, not a mechanic. Yes, like so many these days, I call myself a writer and no, it isn’t because I’ve been laid off from my third job in four years. Just so you know, I’ve been writing for decades. My first full-length novel about a single father meeting the challenges of raising his son and in the process, discovering things about himself that he never knew—is finally out. It’s called, Positives & Negatives, Tricycles & Pancakes. So yes, I’m a writer and I’d be a writer whether I was stocking groceries at the local market, or mowing lawns up and down my neighborhood streets.

What I am, and what I do to keep a roof over my head, are two different things. It would be great if it didn’t have to be that way but for now, that’s the way it is. For me it’s very much like living two lives at the same time, there’s the writer life, and the everything else life. The everything else life is real and largely out of my control, the writing life is fictional and even though it only exists in thought, for me it’s no less real. The only thing the two worlds have in common is that I have no control, and I’ve become accustomed to it.

On the other hand, the differences between the two worlds are myriad, but can be summed up by two words, make believe. In the writing world, I can experience anything; life, love, hate, I can fall out of a ten-story window and I can die doing it, or more sensationally, I can survive. I can do anything, or more accurately, anything can happen to me and I don’t have to experience it in the real world. So why, when I meet a prospective reader for the first time, are the questions always the same?

“Are you a single father?”

“No.”

“Do you have a son?”

“No.”

I’ve been marketing my book for about six months and it’s always at this point that the prospective reader decides to move on. Not only do they not buy the book, but later, if someone who has tells them good things about it, their first response is, “He isn’t even a father.”

Ugh—I, for the life of me couldn’t figure it out. Why is this such a big problem? It must be a serious one but the reason continued to elude me. At first, I thought maybe if I ignored the whole thing and didn’t make it any bigger than it was, it would go away. Especially, as people read the book and then told others, you know, the power of word-of-mouth advertising. I was wrong. As more people talked about the book, more people would inquire with the same two questions. Are you a single father? Do you have a son? I’d answer no, and they’d move on.

What to do? What to do? I thought about my possible options. Morality and personal responsibility aside, I suppose I could put the cart in front of the horse and find a way to become a baby-daddy. As time rolls on I would not only establish credibility and standing as a father, but I’d have a son too, or maybe a daughter. How hard could it be? Every day, thousands of men become baby-daddies and they aren’t even trying. Of course, being a real father takes a lot more than just a pregnancy, but as I said, I didn’t see the reason why everyone thought it was necessary in the first place. Why did I actually have to be a father? Why do I actually have to have a son? I guess I was just missing it.

The following months did nothing to change anything. The same two questions were still pestering me so I decided to perform a thought experiment. I asked myself, Davyd, what if instead of writing a novel about a single father, you wrote a book about fixing cars? Would I, as a reader of auto repair books, buy it? And the first question that came to mind was, are you a mechanic? And the second, do you fix cars? I never even thought to ask if I was a writer.

The light bulb went off in my head. If I were a mechanic with 10-15 years experience fixing cars and a professional certification or two, sure, why not? I’d buy the book. But if I’m a writer who writes novels, short stories, and sometimes a novella, well . . . I don’t think so. And there it was, I saw the problem and I understood it completely.

However, in order for you to understand it the way I do, you’ll need to prepare yourself because the problem isn’t as obvious as you might think. To prove it, I’m going to tell you something that isn’t going to make any sense but nevertheless, is true. There is no problem. The fact that I wrote a book about a single father raising his son, when I am not a single father, and I never had a son, is totally and completely irrelevant. Here’s why.

Anyone who has read the book automatically and without realizing it, loses their skepticism before the end of the first chapter. In fact, most do it after just a page or two, and the reason they do, and the reason I never understood the skepticism in the first place, is this. I never set out to write a how-to book about raising a son by yourself. I don’t write non-fiction (at least not yet), so that was, and still is, the furthest thing from my mind. True, Positives & Negatives, Tricycles & Pancakes, is about a single father raising his son, but I didn’t write a book about the father that I am. I wrote the book about the father I wish I had.

You see, a long time ago I was a son, and I had a father. So yes, I do have standing and credibility regarding the subject and beyond that . . . I will say no more. If you have other questions, you’ll just have to read my book, L. Davyd Pollack’s book.