…and lots of other places, as are all my gayroms. The paperback is now through Ingram and the ebook is through… everywhere. I’ll say it AGAIN. I had NO CHOICE but to pub in KU as a first time thriller writer, because Amazon A, will punish you in your New Release ranking if you don’t, which will really smother you since B, they have the market cornered on their site with their own Montlake and Lake Union serial killer thrillers, and are always privileging those in search results way above anyone else’s. So yeah. At Amazon, your publisher is… your ruthless competitor.
But as I’ve said before, I could be waiting until the End of Days for an agent to answer a “Hey I’m nobody with no connections and would you please read this query letter and by the way my whole reader base is in gay romance so about 1% of them are going to follow me to another genre and thanks for your time!” I’m not sorry I published it myself instead of letting it rot while I endure years of crippling anxiety waiting by the inbox like a cheerleader waiting for the quarterback to call…
I know I can’t make any money as a creative, if this, my very best book, is still in the red on ad costs and cover costs, if I tested the blurb and the cover with a group of successful thriller writers, if I did everything you are supposed to do as a self published author to bang the fucking drum, ad-wise.
As Mom said, “It’s not a book for stupid people.” Which, if you knew my mother, you’d know that’s about the highest compliment I’m going to wring out of her. If you want to make money in serial killer thrillers, well, I guess you gotta write that Pringle. The same chip out of the can, every time, no surprises, the kind of book Brian meta-mocks – the tortured cop who can’t sleep, thinking about the Beautiful Dead [white] Girl, taunted by the brilliant killer… La la la. Whereas right off the bat, Brian and Carrie are making fun of the BDG and Brian, well, he’s a serial killer who doesn’t kill “bad people” in the eyes of most, I suppose. I think he does! Fuck, he’s the only literal social justice warrior we got!
Let’s face it. Most readers want a Two Glass Book. That’s a book you can read as you guzzle two glasses of wine, and not restaurant-sized portions, and by the time you finish the book, and the wine, nothing’s happened in the plot that you couldn’t follow half-snozzled. Nothing really dark and disturbing happens, because the allegedly D&D bits at the murder scenes or killer’s residence are so absurdly baroque (or sometimes, for variety, gothic) that you only shudder a leeeeetle bit.
That’s okay. I’m going to write the rest of the trilogy, as mentioned before, for my own satisfaction and needs. No clock on it, now is there? Lots of physical shit lately which I never moan and groan about in public because it doesn’t help, but it’s definitely taken my creativity down for the last couple months. But, it’ll happen.