Yesterday Farley helped me deliver books to the General Store. Tourist season is here, and it’s a great time for the shelves to be stocked.
DESCENT, BLAZE and AVALANCHE now have a front seat, right beside the till. Theres’s little poster highlighting I’m a local author, so people visiting the resort can buy something local while on their vacation. Every little advantage helps when you’re trying to sell your paperbacks.
Did you know I love yoga? Kristina used to do yoga on the beach, and I could run anywhere I wanted for a whole hour.
Now she does yoga in our house. First she runs on the treadmill – she doesn’t like to run outside with the bears in the area – then she does yoga.
I sleep on her yoga mat while she runs. When she’s done, she wants it back. Ha. I never move, so she does yoga on the carpet. That’s just as soft right?
Later she takes me off-leash near the village so I can run, too. I get my freedom time ever day. We cover 5.5 km. So life is good here.
IMAJIN having a choice of many books, all on sale. You don’t have to IMAJIN it. You CAN find the list at www.ImajinBooks.com and choose from many genres and authors. The sale ends tonight.
Of course The Stone Mountain Series is on sale too.
Well, I think this is a first for Mystery Mondays. We have Tallis Steelyard, a character, to tell us about his author, Jim Webster. Just who is Tallis Steelyard? Find out at https://tallissteelyard.wordpress.com
I think you’ll have some fun reading this…
Tallis Steelyard on Jim Webster
It has to be said that there are times when one has to come to the aid of a friend; even when they don’t deserve it.
Take the current example. This chap, Jim Webster, calls himself a writer, has a cunning plan. He’s noted that when he launches a book, the world stirs briefly, perhaps even opens its eyes, and he sells a few before the world moves on leaving him floundering once more in anonymity.
His cunning plan? Well each time he releases a book, he not merely sells the new book, but a few of his previous publications. So rather than release one a year, he’d release one every three months. He wrote, edited and prepared for publishing six novellas.
Yes, yes, I know, but for some people this really does pass for cunning. Still these six stories feature the antics of my dear friend Benor, normally when he’s sticking his nose where it’s not really wanted and solving problems that nobody was too worried about in the first place.
Yes I know that sounds jaundiced, but I do have to live here. There again, all is not lost; you do get to meet me, Tallis Steelyard, the leading poet of his generation, and my lady wife Shena. Indeed in the current novella a little of my poetry is quoted. Surely it must be worth purchasing for that alone?
But I digress. Jim Webster had a cunning plan. Yes, that was it. Every four months, regular as clockwork, he’d publish another of these novellas, get his little burst of publicity, burnish his battered ego, and sell a few books. Yet this would happen three times as often as it had in the past, thus increasing sales threefold and bringing his work to an audience three times as large.
Given his promotional techniques I would personally have said the audience would merely be three times as exasperated.
Still I don’t suppose you can fault a chap for trying. If indeed he had tried. So I ask you, what happens with the current book?
Well in March/April he did nothing because he was involved in lambing sheep. In May he went down with some ridiculous chest infection and was apparently delirious but nobody noticed any change in his behaviour.
Then he got caught up in writing another book. So involved was he that he was oblivious to the days passing by until, about a fortnight before the big day, he suddenly remembered. Since then he’s been frantically telling everybody he can think of about it.
Now if he’d been a poet, I could have forgiven him for this oversight, but those lesser literary artists have not our finer sensitivities. They’re supposed to be more business-like than we are.
Yours, as ever, Tallis Steelyard
***
Hello, Jim Webster here. Whilst I have your attention, the situation is much as Tallis outlined it.
The proof is in the pudding, as they say… Who is ‘they’? I don’t know. But what I can tell you, or shall I show you, how selling books to non-bookstores works.
Imajin Books puts on a giant sale from July 1st to July 7th, so stop on by their website and choose a gift for yourself. The prices range from $0.99 to $1.99.
There’s romance, horror, mysteries… The list goes on and on.
I’ve just been on a long vacation. Vacations are great. I get to spend time playing with my humans more often, I get to explore new places, and I get to meet new friends.
The drawback? The car. Thirteen hours in one go is just too long. I try to sneak up front, but Kristina won’t let me. My dog bed is tucked behind the driver’s seat, and I have lots of room to move around, but sometimes a dog gets bored and wants to sit on a human lap. The human should then spend hours petting me. What’s wrong with that?
And did you know not all places allow dogs to enter? Just because the humans need a coffee and a snack, shouldn’t mean I have to wait in the car on this cold and rainy day. The first thing I do is jump to the front seat. I’m thinking maybe I can stay here when we hit the road again.
No such luck. It’s back to my bed…Although I should tell you, first I get a walk and some water.
Following my own advice, I’ve restocked two stores in the small town near me with DESCENT and BLAZE.
This happened in two ways.
As per the advice I give in the guide, I went by one of the stores and noticed they were down to 2 copies of Descent and none of Blaze. I called and asked if I could bring more. The store bought 6 or each and agreed to buy 10 of AVALANCHE as soon as I receive the print editions.
The other store send me a message asking for more books. I didn’t even have to go there to check on the stock.
We are heading into summer, hence tourist season and that’s when the books tend to sell well in our town. The timing couldn’t have been better.
My books are now selling in Lambert’s Pharmacy, The Dollar and General Store, and Sobeys. They get face out display in an area where customers can easily see them.
The interesting one to me is the Dollar and General Store. The novels sell for $22.99 Canadian, so I didn’t think this would be a great place to stock the books. The store wanted to support local authors, so we tried it. This is the fourth time I’ve had to restock there, which makes me very happy.
To kick of the 206-2017 season of Mystery Mondays, we have Laurel S. Peterson joining us today. We’re celebrating her new release, SHADOW NOTES, published by Barking Rain Press, and she’s going tell us about…
THE TENSION OF BELIEVING—AND NOT
by Laurel S. Peterson
Thanks for having me on your blog, Kristina. I’m honored to be here.
Part of the core of my novel Shadow Notes is my own wrestling over the validity of intuitive or “psychic” powers. I have friends who tell me they “know” things, that they are connected with aspects of experience that are unseen by most people. I have had moments in my life where I also have had experiences like this. One vivid moment was when I was a teenager, sitting on a park bench somewhere in Europe waiting for my parents. I had a sudden flash where I understood that I could have been, could be, any of the people walking by me. We were all the same, while at the same time we had ended up in different bodies. It was a moment of profound oneness with all that was around me.
Another time, I was waiting for a response from a literary agent. Two days before I got the letter, I became absolutely certain that she had rejected me. (Of course, we all carry some of this around, I imagine!) It was the kind of certainty I’ve experienced on one or two other occasions, one of which was an acceptance. Where did that certainty come from? Where did that awareness of one-ness come from? I don’t have an explanation for it, and the rational, scientific skeptic in me says those kinds of moments are explainable if I understood brains better—or if I would just allow myself to believe. Believing isn’t something I’m so good at.
My protagonist, Clara Montague, has dreams and gets visions of things through touching. In one instance, she foresees a character’s death when she grabs that person’s hand; in her dreams, she sees a wave of blood falling toward her and her mother. The dreams repeat and intensify until Clara can figure out what’s causing them.
Because I’m not sure how I feel about this, or because I don’t know how to resolve the tension between my friends’ assertions about their very real experiences and my own secret belief that there is no such thing (not so secret anymore!), the only place for me to tackle it is in my fiction. I love my friends. I believe them. I worry about them. I don’t see my way clear to one point of view or the other; I have to hold both in tension within me all the time. Clara herself maintains this kind of tension; she doesn’t want her gift. She believes her mother has the same gift, but Constance refuses to discuss it with her. She doesn’t want to act on her gift, but if she doesn’t, she is physically and psychologically damaged by her attempts to suppress it. Early in the book, we learn she spent some time in a Swiss psychiatric hospital.
I think one of the hardest things we do as human beings is to learn to accept that there are things we can’t resolve, that opposite things can both be true at the same time. The simple example I give my students is that we can love and hate the same person at the same time. The fun part, the part that makes us interesting, is that complexity. Accepting it isn’t easy, but it’s much more interesting than if it weren’t there at all.
What do you think about intuition? Do psychic phenomena exist? Is this something you’ve experienced? What kinds of opposites you find hard to resolve? Thanks for reading, and I look forward to hearing your comments.
Laurel S. Peterson is an English professor at Norwalk Community College. Her mystery novel, Shadow Notes, was just released by Barking Rain Press. She has published two poetry chapbooks, That’s the Way the Music Sounds, (Finishing Line Press, 2009) and Talking to the Mirror (Last Automat Press, 2010); a full length collection, “Do You Expect Your Art to Answer You?” will be released by Futurecycle Press in 2017. In 2016 – 2017, she is serving as the town of Norwalk’s Poet Laureate. She also co-edited a collection of essays on women’s justice titled (Re)Interpretations: The Shapes of Justice in Women’s Experience (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009). You can find her at www.laurelpeterson.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/LaurelPetersonWriter/, and on Twitter: @laurelwriter49.
SHADOW NOTES: Clara Montague didn’t even want to come home. Her mother, Constance Montague, never liked her—or listened to her—but now they have to get along or they will both end up in jail or dead.
Clara always suspected she and Constance share intuitive powers, but Constance always denied it. When Clara is twenty, she dreams her beloved father dies of a heart attack, and Constance claims she is being hysterical. Then he dies.
Furious and betrayed, Clara leaves for fifteen years to tour the world, but when she dreams Constance is in danger, she can’t ignore it, no matter how she feels. Shortly after Clara returns home, Constance’s therapist Hugh Woodward is murdered and Constance is jailed for the crime.
Since her mother refuses to tell her anything, Clara enlists the aid of brother and sister Andrew and Mary Ellen Winters, Constance’s enemies, to dig out Constance’s secrets. First, however, she must determine whether the Winters, wealthy socialites with political ambitions, are lying and what their motivations are for helping her. In addition, why does the mere fifteen year age difference between Clara and her mother make them nervous?
Starting to explore Constance’s past, Clara discovers a closet full of books on trauma and gets a midnight visit from a hooded intruder wielding a knife, who tries to scare her off her investigation. But her dreams become more demanding and there’s a second murder. Realizing she can’t run back to Paris as she wishes, she works with the town’s sexy new police chief to find the truth about Hugh’s murder and its connection to her mother’s past. Only in finding the connection will she be able to figure out how those secrets have shaped both Constance’s life and her own. Only in finding the connection will they finally be able to heal their relationship.