Poetically Powered Newsletter, Hey Indie Author trying to make it, what's an accomplishment?
Hey Indie Author trying to make it, how many books sold are an accomplishment?
I saw a friend, PrettyProvocativePoet post a question of how many books do you sell before it’s a win? What is an accomplishment to an indie author?
Both of my books were published by small presses in New Mexico thanks to the pandemic and meeting friends because of how poetry went virtual. I thought of how friends pre-ordered my books, I had about 20 for each book before it came out. Then, how many I’ve sold at poetry events with people I literally just met going “that’s your book? How much? Okay, I’ll get both (?!)”
What the ever loving fuck you’ll get both and you just met me?
Hold this in, of course, tell them how to virtually pay me, write my name and a message inside, squeal into walls when I get alone.
One book is an accomplishment. For me that was the answer, I’m almost out of all of my print books for both of them, only a little over a handful left. I want to sell more. I want to order more with my second publisher. Get that extra 100. But how the fuck do I do it? There’s no rhyme or reason. There’s no formula. The reason why I have a social media account is because I’m an author. And I don’t want my damn writing to hide in the dark anymore. That would benefit people who don’t like my writing, but I never wrote for them anyways, and told them this.
I’m always excited when a literary journal wants to publish my pieces. That means outside the worlds of my books my words are living. Maybe someone reads a poem and goes “holy shit I’ve felt that but never knew how to say that.”
By the way, one of my favorite ways to be complimented is a reader/listener saying that to me.
I’ve been told that with my poetry I seem humble since I profusely thank anyone who shares good shit with me. This is not being humble. This is spending most of my life being told by some people I wasn’t good enough for anything. I wasn’t good enough to be in this group when I was a kid, another group, another group, another, just keep adding them on. The experience was first grade, second grade, eighth grade, just keep repeating them. I was “a lot” even though I was mainly non communicative. I didn’t talk. I chose silence and to be by myself at recess to avoid other kids bullying me, making fun of me, or trying to get in a fight with me.
Even at a young age, I did not back down. I was scrappy. I was always one to say my mind if I did say something, which was most likely not going to happen.
I appreciate people who believe in me, or say good things about me. It means a lot. I don’t think there will ever be a time in my life I don’t thank someone and try to let them know that they’re kindness has a huge value in my life.
I was a difficult kid never trying to be difficult, it was just because I didn’t “fit in” and I didn’t want to. I knew what I was as a child (a hidden dinosaur in my imagination and so many lands I made), I knew what I didn’t like and I never really tried to mold myself into someone’s image of me. This makes you into a pretty fierce, and self-assured adult. Still awkward as fuck but in a funny way, and very hard to damage because so many damaged me before.
Writing for me is either Waterfall or a dam. Free flowing or stagnant. For the past few months since the “disaster/most fucked up thing” happened to me I couldn’t describe it, and I still can’t. I don’t have the words to dive into me and come out the other side okay. Getting back into Undercurrents with Des helped to kind of kick start it. WAN and their 30 for 30 helps, but I hardly have time for anything. And if the words don’t want to come, I’ve learned forcing anything with me will have my body and mind do a hard stop of “NO.”
I don’t think I’ll ever stop being amazed I made two books, that I was featured on WAN not one but several times, that I was a part of their cypher, that I competed twice in WOWPS, that I’ve featured, that I’m a facilitator when I can be. I think every has a story inside themselves. You just gotta pull it like teeth or taffy to get to it, but someone will connect to it, and they will be your audience that found you.
Listening to: All Day, All Night
Reading: Hopefully Sylvia Plath, Ariel. Just finished Mary Oliver’s Devotions, huge yes.
Getting ready for: a visit that’s finally here.
I’m signing off and if you read this, thank you. I feel especially lately I’m writing but does it matter? And your reading makes me realize maybe it does, and I know yours does.