Friday Freebie: Kimberly Rae

For writers, one of the best things about Facebook is connecting with other writers, including those who live in exotic locales. Though I “met” Kimberly Rae on a group page for writers represented by Hartline Literary Agency, her virtual location tells only part of her story. Kimberly has lived in Bangladesh, Uganda, Kosovo and Indonesia. Addison's disease brought her back to the US, where she’s at work on a new series on living joyfully with chronic health problems. 

Kimberly’s suspense/romance novels on international human trafficking and missions (the Stolen series) are all Amazon bestsellers, and last week, she signed a contract with BJU press (Journey Forth) for her young adult novel, Escaping the Darkness, which also deals with the topic of human trafficking.

Kimberly is married and has two young children. She lives in North Carolina where she writes from her home at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains and harbors a secret....some of her books are self-published! Read on to find out which ones, and what she did to make sure the finished products were as professionally done as possible. 

Okay, I'm sharing my secret with you all -- for those of you who never noticed (which I hope you didn't!), my Stolen series was self-published. I say that with a cringe, knowing the stigma that goes with self-publishing, i.e., the assumption that, well, nobody "real" wanted to publish it so  you had to do it yourself.

With the economy tightening budgets in everything including the publishing industry, things have changed, and print-on-demand publishing is becoming a big new option that actually boasts several benefits over traditional publishing.  Nonetheless it still feels just plain strange to tell people I self-published a book.  I always want to add, "But I've been published over 200 times in other places, so I really am a real writer!"

Fortunately, when people see the Stolen books and hear they were done through print-on-demand, I often hear, "Wow, this looks really good. It doesn't look self-published." And I inwardly think, "Hooray!" I worked very hard to make sure it didn't have that homemade look that is a dead giveaway for self-publishing. 

And now, since so many people have asked how I made it look so not self-published, I figure I might as well stick it all on here so it's all in one place. So here goes: 

HOW NOT TO LOOK SELF-PUBLISHED

1. No flat colors on your cover. Even if you want a main background color, find some kind of texture, however faint, to give it some depth. I can't think of any mainstream published book that has a flat color on the cover. The black background of my Stolen books is actually a photo of a shawl I bought in Indonesia. My husband took the photo and tweaked it on Photoshop to be lighter on the back cover and darker on the front. On the front cover, it's barely even noticeable, which was the idea. Most people would think it was just black, but it does not stand out as just a flat black, and that's the idea -- to not have sections that stand out as "homemade."

2. Use quality digital photos. 'Nuf said.

3. Put a lot of time into making your back cover "hook" good. (That's the 1-2 paragraphs on the back that summarize the story with just enough of the plot to tease a reader into wanting to buy/read your book -- it's important!). Sometimes writing that one paragraph to hook potential readers is harder than writing the whole book! Write several options and have people who know nothing about your book help choose between them.

4. Add details on the back cover. Pull down 3-4 of your favorite books from your bookshelf and look them over for small details that you never really notice normally. It's interesting that those details that we don't notice if they're there, we notice if they're absent. Those are the details you want, such as:

• author photo placement and bio
• credit to cover design person
• credit to cover photographer
• price listed in US and Canadian (easy to check with an online converter)
• usually the publisher is listed with a logo -- put something in that spot, like your website, blog -- anything
• endorsements, if you have any

5. Play with color effects on your words. With Createspace, the print-on-demand option I used, they had a downloadable template for the cover design. My husband put it into Photoshop and used it as a base, then added everything we wanted, playing especially with the effects on color for the words. Small touches, but they make a big difference (see www.kimberlyrae.com for a close-up look at the cover). Oh, and please don't use bubble-shaped words or rainbow-curved words or any other style that is a little too creative to be professional. If you go to the library, you'll notice that nearly every book's font is pretty close to the same, with color and texture changes to make them unique.

6. The boring copyright/info page. This is probably the biggest way that even the average reader will notice you're self-published. You know that page, about the second page in, that has all that boring copyright info and Library of Congress stuff? I doubt anybody actually reads any of it, but if your book just says your name and copyright date, it screams "self-published." Again, pull down some of your favorite books and see if you can borrow any of their boring info. I put in stuff about the version of the Bible I used, a long useless paragraph about not copying anything without permission, etc. You can also get a Library of Congress number for free (google how to) and put that on there, too.

7. Chapter image. I think it's nice to have some little graphic at the beginning of each chapter -- something that represents or accents your style of book, even just a swirly-whatever to add to your interior. It should be the same throughout because changing it for each chapter would look odd. Again, check the books you like. What did they do?

8. Fonts. Use a special or italicized font for your chapter headers. The first letter of the chapter being larger and a special font is another thing I noted from my favorite books and utilized in mine. Again, it just sets you apart in little ways.

9. The extra stuff. Author page, thank-you-to-everybody-and-their-grandmother page, etc. There's a fair bit of freedom on where to put those, but you'll want to check other books to see where they put things and how they expressed themselves. I find acknowledgment pages extremely boring (unless you're one of the people thanked of course), so I put mine in the back and made it short.

10. Lastly, don't go cheesy. I really wanted to put some photos in from Bangladesh to show some of the scenes in my book. It might have been a nice idea, except that NOBODY in traditional publishing would do that, so it would plop me down in the self-publishing camp for good. Your book is a piece of professional work, so like a resume, you don't need to add in photos of your grandchildren or long lists of how you came to write the book, etc. Readers do like personal info, but those are the kinds of things you can put on your website or your blog for the ones who want to get to know you instead of just reading your writing.

Make sense? Hopefully the above will help you put out something that people will say, "Wow, it doesn't look self-published," and you, too, can inwardly say, "Hooray!"

Quacking Ducks and Leaps of Faith

I used to think that I needed to finish every book I started reading, as though I'd entered into an unspoken contract with an author I didn't know to follow the work through to the end, even if I discovered somewhere along that way that it didn't get better as I hoped it would somewhere around chapter 3. I don't remember which book it was that relieved me of that burden, but I suspect that it was not the one I was reading, but rather one that was waiting in the to-be read pile, calling my name, promising to intrigue me more than the book I was holding.

I used to think that retirement didn't come until a person was in their sixties, unless that person had worked at something dangerous like police work or firefighting or the military, or something that required a level of physical prowess only young people possessed. Entering a profession that most people left after 35 years or so, regardless of their age, disabused me of that notion as I watched my colleagues retire while they were still vibrant and ready to leap into all retirement had to offer. And when I saw one woman wait just a little bit too long, only to have her husband pass away before they could live out any of their plans, the notion of working until the bitter end began to have new meaning.

I used to think that I'd work at my job as a school counselor for those 35 years or so, retiring at a ripe old age after decades of entertaining and educating kids and their families. But somewhere along the line, I became a mom, and the job changed, and the I used to thinks about balancing work and home shifted in such a way that I developed a longing to stay home with my daughter that I never thought I'd have.

I used to think that the pain of good-bye would last, remaining interminably painful - an ache that never fully subsided. But eventually I realized that to say hello to something new, we have to say good-bye to something old, and that the things we take with us from our hellos and good-byes shape the person we become, and that the truly valuable things stay with us beyond comings and goings.

I used to think - not all that long ago, in fact - that taking a leap of faith that went against all the rules and that might not come equipped with a net was foolish at best and certainly irresponsible when one had a family and obligations. And then I discovered the root of the expression leap of faith, put my quacking ducks in an unruly row and trusted that faith would handle the rest.

I used to think that rules were a good thing - a thing that kept life orderly and predictable and safe - and I still do. But I've also discovered that guidelines work better than hard-and-fast rules and that calculated risks are risks worth taking. Playing it safe keeps us in one place, treading water; taking a risk allows us to swim toward the horizon. We can plan these journeys to a certain extent, but at some point in the trip, we have to take a leap of faith.

And with faith, all things are possible.

Pennwriters Conference Top Ten

(in no particular order)

Top Five Events:

1. Donald Maass dinner keynote

2. Chuck Sambuchino workshops

3. Chuck Sambuchino's luncheon keynote

4. Deb Riley-Magnus's Cross-Marketing workshops

5. Ramona DeFelice-Long's Short Story workshop

Top Five Takeaways (simple, yet profound):

1. "What will you write for my son to read?" (Donald Maass)

2. "Storytelling is a hypothesis." (Mark Tavani)

3."Don't believe everything you hear." (Chuck Sambuchino)

4. "Write a story people want to re-tell." (Hana Haatainen Caye)

5. "Relax." (Jon Sprunk)

Okay conferees - who/what did I miss?

And, if you weren't at the conference this time, comment to ask me more about Pennwriters! Next year's conference is at the Eden Resort Inn in Lancaster, PA - worth the trip!

Saturday Special: Pennwriters Conference

On Friday, I took the train from Harrisburg to Pittsburgh. I've never been to Pittsburgh before, but a Pennwriters Conference with speakers including literary agent Donald Maass and author/editor Chuck Sambuchino from Writer's Digest was a pretty big draw.

And I haven't been disappointed. Typically, I find at least one workshop slot where I can shop in the bookstore or take a nap...but not yesterday. I heard about pitches, revisions, and promotions. Chuck spoke at lunch and Donald spoke at dinner....and then hung out in the lobby and talked to writers afterward. So far today, I've gotten lessons in freelancing from Chuck (who autographed my copy of his book on platform) and later on today, I will collect my free book from author Bobbi Carducci.

I know I've said this before, but it bears repeating. Writers are a generous bunch, and the professionals who attend these conferences are no exception. Our keynote speakers make themselves available outside their presentations, graciously sign books and invite us to contact them after the conference is over. Those of us who write for publication would do well to emulate them and share what we know with the same grace and generosity.

I still have lots to look forward to today, and I'm excited to sharing more of the lessons and high points here and in the classes I teach.

I Can Stop Any Time I Want To...Really!

My Starbucks habit has become a running joke among my friends. Little do they know it's more than a habit; it's therapy. As beverages go, it's kind of pricey, but as therapy goes, it's pretty cheap.

Starbucks is the carrot I dangle when I have something on my desk that must get done. If it's a project that requires less than half a day, I promise myself a trip there when the project is done. If it's a longer project, or one where progress is simply eluding me, I pack it up and take it with me. Starbucks then becomes my satellite office - the place where I can't use laundry or dishes or stripping the bed as an excuse to escape a blank screen, a blank page or an uncooperative project.

Starbucks is my social hub. I meet my former colleagues there each week, maintaining the connections I've cultivated over the past two decades and taking joy in finding that our connections have transcended my retirement. It's where I run into people - often former students and their families - those whom I might otherwise see only on Facebook or not at all. It's where I meet friends to catch up and plan and simply chat, where my sister and I meet to share our writing.

The Starbucks near my home is my personal "Cheers." The baristas know my name and my drink. I wrote most of my last novel, several online articles and more blogs than I can count at Starbucks, tucked away at a table, nursing one drink for my entire visit, but getting no complaints.

Tomorrow I head to Pittsburgh for the Pennwriters Conference. I'm excited, but a little wary. Sure, a hotel room works as a satellite office...but will I have to be Starbucks-free for three days? I know there are Starbucks in Pittsburgh (I used my app to see where they were), but I won't have a car, so those carrots will be dangling beyond my reach. I'm sure the workshops, social time and writing I'll squeeze into the crevices between sessions will keep me busy, but all of that is bound to make me thirsty, too.

They say a writer has to suffer for her craft, so I'll persevere, empty-handed. But there'd better be a venti iced chai with my name on it when I get back.

Fearless Tuesday

On Sunday, I took the day off. It was Mother's Day, after all, and a day of rest, so I felt justified. I read, played games, chatted with my family as we watched Harry Potter movies and cleaned off my desk - a project I'd been wanting to do but had been having trouble finding enough time to do well.

Yesterday, I was on a roll. I jumped into the day with uncharacteristic not-a-morning-person energy, patting myself on the back for that day of rest that had left me energized and ready to hit the ground running.

Then we had email issues, but I managed to get a blog written and posted. I was on my way to the post for this site when the phone rang. My daughter had a fever. Could I pick her up?

Of course I could.

My first clue that she wasn't terribly ill came when she texted to see what was taking me so long. And when I picked her up, she told me that she actually felt better than she had the day before, but school policy dictated that if she had a fever, she needed to be sent home. And, if she was going to be home sick, I felt as though I should cancel my discretionary activities and hang out with her.

Unfortunately, work somehow ended up getting swept away with the discretionary activities. I watched the video of a webinar I'd signed up for last week, but a combination of tech issues, difficulty putting words on the page and - ahem - motivational issues - meant that I spent more time on Pinterest and Facebook than on that second blog. I wrote the song that had been floating around in my head since I'd started the laundry at 8 AM, but not much else.

Such is the beauty of working from home.

And so today, you'd think I'd be raring and ready to go the moment my feet hit the floor. Not so. I blame the cold weather for the lazy start that got me to the keyboard at 9 AM instead of 8 AM because after all, if I didn't blame the cold weather, I'd have to take responsibility for my inaction.

The thing is, these "late" starts aren't all that uncommon. I am not a morning person, and while some days are like yesterday - energy-pumped fresh starts - most days, I ease into the day, a luxury I didn't have when I was working outside the home.

But if I'm honest, I have to admit that when I was working in schools, the days ebbed and flowed much as they do now. Some days, I was on fire, burning through my to-do list with amazing alacrity. Other days, it was one step forward, two steps back. I don't know why I expect that it should be any different now that I am working at home.

I guess expect isn't the right word. The verb I am looking for is "fear."

What if I spent the entire day on the sofa with a book? What if I napped and snacked and went out for Starbucks and got absolutely nothing done? What if day after day I got to the end of the day and had nothing to show for it?

Those who know me are shaking their heads, knowing that in the absence of extenuating circumstances, this would not - could not - happen. I simply wouldn't allow it, if for no other reason than the fact that I'd be so bored by all of the inactivity that the monotony alone would spur me into action. My body may be perfectly content to nap on the sofa, but my brain runs circles around it, coaxing - then prodding - me into action.

So why am I so afraid of a day - or, God forbid, two! - spent leisurely?

My fingers, flying over the keyboard for much of this post, stopped at the end of that question, holding tightly to the answer, which is complex. Early retirement, never intended to be the end of my work life. So many ideas, so many things I want to do that wasted time seems inexcusable. Fear of laziness, monotony, wasted potential.

Fortunately, the solution is much simpler. Keep moving forward. Stop occasionally to take stock of where you are and where you're going. Don't waste time beating yourself up over what you haven't accomplished. Instead, decide where you are going from here.

It all sounds so logical, one thing flowing right into the next. Fear is counterproductive - it hinders the flow and limits the possibilities - and so I need to determine if it is reasonable, and brush it aside when it is not.

And so, fearlessly, I'm going forth into Tuesday.

Enough is Enough

Memorial Day weekend will mark my seventh anniversary as a blogger. In May 2006, I sat on my brother-in-law's porch swing and scribbled down my very first blog. My daughter, who is now finishing her freshman year of high school, was still in elementary school and had not yet grown to the point of towering over me, and a blog was this new thing I'd just heard about at a writing conference.

I've written many blogs on a variety of sites since then, and in honor of my blogging anniversary, I'll be sprinkling some of my favorites posts among my new posts throughout the month - blogs that still ring true for me now, reminding me that some things remain consistent, even as life changes and children grow taller.

The post below is from August 2008, back before my daughter was too cool for theme days, and back before I actually got to be a stay-at-home mom during the school year. And you know what? My daughter is still good company, and this stay-at-home thing is all I thought it would be.

I have always been a stay-at-home mom wannabe. It caught me by surprise - I expected to want to to back to work after my daughter was born, but as it turned out, that wasn't what I wanted at all. I thought that three months of maternity leave would be enough, but at the end of those three months, I still wanted to stay at home and change the diapers of the child who napped much less often than she was supposed to and stole my heart more completely than I'd expected her to.

My daughter is ten now, and though I like my go-to-work job, those yearnings to be a mom who doesn't work outside of the home haven't gone away. I still want to be the mom who volunteers at the school library, who is available to attend all of the school functions that are scheduled in the middle of the day and who can stay home with my child when she is sick without feeling as though I'm abdicating my work responsibilities.

I'm fortunate to have a hob which gives me summers off, though, so during the summer, I play at being a stay-at-home mom. The truth is, like most stay-at-home moms, I don't stay at home all that much. I run Leah from camp to camp and to the library and to doctor's appointments. I try to find activities that will make the TV less of a magnetic attraction. My daughter is good company, and I find myself wishing this lifestyle lasted more than three months.

Today, Leah's camp had Wacky Wednesday, and as I watched my daughter head into camp in her mildly wacky attire, surrounded by other girls in varying degrees of wackiness, I wondered if just being at home is enough. We'd given consideration to her outfit, but we hadn't turned it into the epitome of wackiness that some kids (and their moms, it appeared) had. I'd had an appointment last night - two, actually - so although we'd discussed the day and laid out some clothes, I hadn't been at home to help her pick out fuzzy hats, furry boas and style her hair in a gravity-defying 'do. Had I done enough? Had I fully dedicated myself to her wackiness?

And should I have? She's at an age where I expect her to take a certain amount of responsibility for herself. After all, it was her Wacky Wednesday and I was merely a consultant. But had I fulfilled that role to the best of my ability?

And in the midst of this wacky introspection, as I was beating myself up for not taking wackiness seriously enough, it came to me. It's not about going to work or staying at home or showing up at PTA meetings or taking our kids to work on the designated day in April. It's about being enough for them. It's about being home with the baby even though she doesn't nap, hanging out with the pre-teen even though she doesn't want to talk, expecting our kids to take responsibility for themselves, but still worrying that we haven't provided enough of a cushion for them when they fall. It's about loving them when we don't much like them, making them do homework even we think is ridiculous and taking them to the library instead of the video arcade. And sometimes, taking them to the video arcade, too, because after all, they're kids.

It's a pretty tricky job description, and one that doesn't travel alone. Being enough for our kids is complicated by other realities of life, such as being enough for ourselves, our spouses, our homes, our families, our employers, our communities...Whether we work inside the home, out of it or both, we're fragmented into so many pieces that it's tough sometimes to remember that the pieces aren't neat bits of mosaic, but instead, overlapping pieces of a collage. Taking care of our homes impacts our families, taking care of our marriages impacts our kids and taking care of ourselves impacts all the rest of it. And so the collage moves and bends, its component parts blending together to create an ever-changing picture.

So when are we enough? According to our kids, probably never, so "enough," like so many other things in parenting has to come when we say so. "Enough" depends on the moment, and varies with our energy levels, our life circumstances, our willingness to let one piece of the collage overtake another. "Enough" is mercurial, elusive, undefined. "Enough" comes for us only when we are satisfied, which means that some days, it may not show up at all.

So was my daughter wacky enough today? Probably. If not, there's always tomorrow. That's the nice thing about enough. What's not enough for this moment may be more than sufficient for the next, and keeping this in mind can make those moments of dissatisfaction easier to bear.