Publishing Adventures, Take 2

As friends, family, or followers of this blog, you may know that I had my first mystery novel, Decaf & Drones, published last year. I felt kind of like this:


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Then, in less time than it took me to finish my elaborate victory dance, my small indie publisher announced that they tragically had to close their doors. I felt kind of like this:



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Fortunately for me, I tend to bounce through emotions like a teenage girl hyped up on Gatorade, so I didn't have to wait long until I felt inspired again.


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Many people I know wanted the book in paperback form, which the original publisher hadn't been able to arrange (they were into the ebook scene), and I had already been through the intense editing process with the professionals in the industry. There was no sense in the book going to waste, so I decided to go the route of self-publishing.

Side Note: Something that always gets me hung up on self-publishing is the misconception that just anybody can do it. Technically, I suppose that anyone can post work online or go the route of an online self-publisher, but it shouldn't belittle the quality of the work being published. I am proud of Decaf & Drones, and I know I'm constantly growing as a writer and that future books in the series (now in progress) will be even better. I hope that friends, family, acquaintances, and even strangers will take the time to read a little intriguing mystery about new beginnings, a crazy bomber, and a spunky gal who drinks a lot of coffee. Speaking of which...


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mmm, coffee.

So anyways, to get back on track, I spent this spring paging through blogs, self-publishing websites, and other publishing gurus' work to determine the best way to go about this, and I ended up (with guidance from my original publisher) choosing CreateSpace. The book has also been revamped as far as its cover design, and it has had yet ANOTHER edit to cover some issues I STILL wasn't satisfied with earlier (writers will always hate on their own work, trust me).

After all that work-- tah dah!!--

Decaf & Drones, the first book in the Northwoods Barista Mystery Series, is now finally available in paperback form! All you have to do is click one little link here. I would also love to message you a discount code or link you to the book synopsis if you're not yet sure this is your cup of joe.

As always, thanks for reading, and I appreciate your support!

What to do when your publisher goes out of business...

1. Bawl your eyes out into your favorite beer and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

2. Watch your choice of "person overcoming adversity to achieve their dream" movie. (Personally, I'm a sucker for danced-themed dreamers like "Save the Last Dance" or "Flashdance". Alex gets into ballet school and can finally leave the dance club...maybe my dreams can come true, too.)


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3. Close your account with Amazon, feeling betrayed by the crooks that put small publishers out of business.

4. Reopen your account with Amazon. What, you think you can just close an account at Amazon? Laugh ironically at your naivety and helplessness, then cry a little more.


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5. Check your email repeatedly for any sign that this is all a misunderstanding and the off-color possibility that your publisher was playing an early April Fool's prank. Realize you are being ridiculous.

6. Print out copies of old manuscripts and burn them symbolically.

7. Contemplate your purpose on this earth.


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8. Browse the aisles at Barnes & Noble and mock every book in your genre that made it through the big publisher gateway and onto those abnormally tall shelves. Belittle their obscenely glossy covers, overrated plot lines, and transparent characters. Buy one or two that are on sale.

9. Consider clicking on one of those ads that promise instant fame and wealth to all writers who click on it. Stop yourself just in time to avoid downloading what likely would have been a plethora of spam and viruses onto your six-year-old laptop, which would have doubtless caused its inevitable betrayal and violent death.

10. Start to breathe and realize this is not the end. This is just another one of those annoying beginnings. 

 

Finding Joy through the End of Semester Chaos

I haven't written about the teaching aspect of my life in this blog for a while, but as the 1st semester winds to a close this week, my passion for teaching (despite the tears and stress it occasionally brings) overwhelmed me and inspired me to write a bit on this.

Let me start by stating that the last week of the semester at times makes me feel like this:


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...and a little bit like this:

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And, seeing as how I teach online these days, it's also a dollop of this, but less lonely and more helpless:
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Basically, it boils down to the fact that I have students who don't turn in anything until the last week, regardless of when I set deadlines, and then occasionally what they do turn in is so far off base or, in very devastating cases, plagiarized, that I don't even know where to begin.
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Still, despite all this disappointment, I do also have the students who really inspire me, the ones who turn in excellent essays and request my feedback and comments, and actually respond to that feedback and continue to blossom in their English and writing skills. These students are beautiful and amazing, and I honestly believe they give me that boost to deal with the tougher cases presented by their peers.
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All in all, the virtual school is a weird and magical world that we're only starting to really discover how to use effectively. I feel that some students thrive in this environment, and they can grow so much from the personalized experience. Others, unfortunately the ones who so frequently get herded into this environment, cannot handle it. They use the time at home poorly and do not embrace the support and encouragement that their virtual teachers provide. The fact that we cannot physical see them and provide that extra sense of presence and support only further hinders this situation, and they spiral into those who refuse to answer emails or phone calls and who submit one page summaries of a book they maybe read once back in elementary school.

However, despite all this potential negativity and failure, I try to focus on the positive (as per my New Year's Resolution! (see previous post) ;)). For instance, one student of mine is currently having difficulty admitting to the blatantly plagiarized content of his persuasive essay, despite the fact that it is quite literally copied word for word from a website. Instead of flipping out and failing him (tempting, I'll admit), I'm walking him through the pitfalls and legal repercussions of plagiarism and working individually with him to backtrack to his main idea and outline using resources we'll discover together. I will teach him all over again how to cite these sources appropriately, and I will not give up on him until he's written a decent essay. I will always maintain the idea that I can continue to work with these students, even the ones who push me farther away than the hundreds of miles that already physically separate us.

My Weird and High-Reaching Resolutions

I've decided that I will have resolutions this year. That and magical jewelry.


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Well, okay, at least the resolutions. So here goes:

1. Looking on the positive side of life, even in the face of difficult or stressful situations. For instance, when facing a day when I have no less than twenty items on my to-do list, I will celebrate crossing off each little darned one, preferably with a shot of espresso-- although, for the sake of my health, I may limit this celebration to an awkward victory dance (and the occasional shot of espresso).


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2. Asking for more favors. This may seem ridiculous as a resolution, but, if you know me, you know that I hardly ever ask for any help and instead find myself stressed and buried under a pile of things I've agreed to do.

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No more! I will ask for help, and I will accept it gratefully, always with a smile, and occasionally with simply a plate of fresh-baked brownies if I do feel the need to return the favor in some way.

3. Less time on Facebook. Bahaha. Is this everyone's resolution? Well, I'm stealing it. (Cue 2nd LOTR allusion.)

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Well, that's all I've got for now. Oh, besides the ever-present....

#4. WRITE!!!!! And promote my cozy mystery Decaf & Drones, available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble as an e-book. It is also soon to be available in print copies. The second book in the series is in progress as we speak, but, naturally, in order to finish it, I must WRITE!

Interview with Jordan Nimsby of Decaf & Drones

Below is an interview with my main character, Jordan Nimsby, of my debut mystery Decaf & Drones. Get to know the character and her quirks!

Name? Jordy Nimsby, Jordan if you’re trying to be all official-like or stalk me or something.

Favorite food? Coffee! Coffee counts as a food, right? In my mind, it has its very own square in the food pyramid.

Describe your reaction to returning to Northern Wisconsin. Eh, that’s bittersweet. For anyone who doesn't know, I’ve recently returned to my hometown of Eagle River after living in the bustling city of Chicago. It’s a bit of a culture shock to be back "Up North". Specifically, I live in my parents’ old cabin. They sold it to me because my father says that I’m “more than capable” of buying my own place at my age. I’m not certain how someone can be “more than capable”; quite frankly it seems to defy the laws of physics. Or nature. Regardless, the move has been growing on me; in many ways, it's good to be home. Plus, I've had a chance to join a mystery investigation and reunite with my best bud from middle school- Samantha Orwitz. 

Can you tell us a little about your career? [Laughs.] Hmm, career-career or job-like quasi-career that I’m doing to pay the bills? Well, my barista gig keeps my lights on, but my dream is to be a modern-day Nancy Drew. Except, you know, maybe I’d get knocked out less often, that’d be super peachy…

How about hobbies? Does drinking coffee count as a hobby? Maybe cooking, you know, easy cooking, not the stuff that requires thorough attention and skill. Researching to get to the bottom of a freaky mystery- not boring research, though, more like interviewing suspects and creeping on a perp's blog to see what he's up to. I do also like lazing around on a lake- you know, swimming, canoeing, boating, relaxing. And watching sexy green-and-gold clad linebackers. [Winks.] Oh, and sometimes I do watch football, too.

Have any strange quirks? None that I can think of. Oh! I do like to use odd old-school colloquialisms. Samantha always makes fun of me for that. And I have been known to drink enough caffeine to actually cause my eyeballs to twitch sporadically. Oh! And I listen to very eclectic music from time to time, like my random action film soundtrack in my Taurus. And I occasionally get distracted and ramble, but, for those of you who know me, that’s a pretty rare occurrence, right..?

Tell us about Keith Leparth. [Rolls eyes.] Did Samantha put you up to this? [Sigh.] He's sexy and he plays the bass guitar. Do I really need to say more?

Why do you want to solve mysteries? Well, one of my role models, like I mentioned earlier, is Nancy Drew. She kicks ass. I also watched way too many scary movies as a kid, so you might think that would turn me off from solving mysteries, right? I mean, why bring myself into the terrifying world of real life crime and crazies? I guess I just never like seeing the underdog get hurt. That's always bugged me, even when I was a kid. In high school, I remember seeing the bully types bossing everyone else around, and it always sorta pissed me off. Then, in college, seeing the same damn thing, it made me realize that bullies always exist, but they just become professionals as they age. I kinda wanted to see if I could bring down some of the stupider bullies, the ones who go so far as to break the law, and it's been pretty sweet so far.

Any final thoughts? Yikes, that sounds, well...final. Okay, how about this? I wish you peace, freedom from the bad guys, and many cups of coffee.

Decaf & Drones excerpt

The following is an excerpt from Chapter 2 of Decaf & Drones: 

I tapped my knee impatiently. It was too early for bed and likely too late for another helping of coffee. Well, for a sane person, anyway. I stepped over to the coffee maker, grabbing some beans from the cupboard. I’d missed the 6pm news. At that time they were probably still trying to piece their story together, but they’d doubtless mentioned something about the explosion. I wondered if I shouldn’t call my mother and reassure her I wasn’t dead or something.

            As if summoned by the thought, there was a sudden violent pounding on the screen door. I jumped from my spot beside Mr. Coffee, showering coffee grinds over my socks. My heart practically hammered a hole in my chest before I realized it was my mother and not a sociopathic serial killer banging on the door like, well, an overly caffeinated sociopathic serial killer. 

            I brushed coffee grounds from my clothing and traipsed over to the door. I pried it open, bracing myself for a battalion of frenzied cries. 

            “Are you alright?! I saw the news! I tried to call, but your phone was turned off!”

            “Oh?” That’s right. I had turned it off at the coffee shop like a good little worker bee. Sure enough, a quick check of the screen informed me my mother had left me a voicemail earlier. And approximately ten missed calls. “Sorry.” 

            She wrapped me in a hug. Mrs. Nimsby cuts a very motherly image: bushy short blonde curls cover her head, thick glasses sit atop her nose, and her 5’ 5” figure is rather pear-shaped and always clad in mom jeans and cardigans. Currently, she was squeezing me so tightly I was likely to die…or at the very least pee my pants. 

            “Mom, I’m fine!” I exclaimed with a slight shove. 

            “Oh, my God, what kind of world do we live in?” She moaned with her arms thrown over her head. Her eyes filled with tears as she shuddered in concern and horror. 

            “One where strip malls in the middle of nowhere burst into smithereens apparently...” 

            “Oh, Jordy, you were at work when it happened, weren’t you? Right next door? Are you sure you’re okay? Was everybody okay?”

            “Yes, Mom, I’m fine. I mean, we heard it from the coffee shop, of course, but our building is totally fine. I talked to some witnesses—er, some people outside the coffee shop, and they seemed alright…” I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping she hadn’t noticed my slip. My mother wasn’t exactly thrilled when I told her I wanted to be a private investigator. In fact, she was positive death and destruction lurked around every corner of my life. Like Martha, she probably watched too many crime dramas. 

            “Witnesses?” Oops. “Jordan Prudence Nimsby, tell me you are not investigating this explosion! Whoever did this is crazy!” She thrust her flailing hands at me, pointing accusingly. She was also pacing, which made me dizzy. Or maybe it was the undercooked chicken again…

            “Exactly! He, or she, is crazy!” I said. “I’ve already reached that conclusion.”

            “Now there you go again with your private-eye talk!”

            “What? You mean ‘conclusion’? How do you know I’m not becoming an essayist?”

            “What?” The blonde curls fraying about her face made her look frazzled as she came to an abrupt stop with both hands on her hips. 

            “Essayist? You know, they write essays. ‘In conclusion’, like at the end of an essay…okay, never mind, it sounded funnier in my head…”

            My mother shook her head and resumed her pacing. “Jordan, this sounds dangerous! Can’t you just let the local cops handle it?” 

            “Yeah, guys who, on an average day, don’t deal with anything worse than a car versus deer accident or a lost dog.” I really had nothing against the resident fuzz, but my mother always managed to bring out the best in me (commence sarcasm). 

            “Jordan. You know it’s their job.”

            “Yeah, and it was supposed to be mine, too.” I hadn’t meant for things to get too serious, but the sting of her last comment brought tears to my eyes. I guess I did miss my old job, my dream job. “Maybe coming up here was a mistake.” I slipped into the comfy armchair, wiping at my eyes with a sweatshirt sleeve.

            My mother’s voice softened, and she hurriedly wrapped her arms around me. “Aw, honey, you know I think you’re a wonderful investigator. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

            “Am I, though? Mr. Klienderstern never seemed to think so.”

            “Well, Mr. Klienderstern is a horse’s ass.” The phrase “horse’s ass” coming out of my mother’s voice was so unexpected a snort burst out of me. 

            “Mom!”

            “Well, he is!” She stepped back and threw her arms about for emphasis. “If he didn’t realize what an excellent investigator you are, then that’s what he is.” My mother sighed. “Fine. I give my blessing.”

            “Wh-what?” I was still giggling over the “ass” comment. 

            “You can take the case. Figure this whole bombing thing out. You have my blessing. Just…be careful.”

            “You do know I was going to do what I wanted regardless of any blessings. As per usual.” 

            “Jordan.” Her voice now carried that warning tone it nearly wore out during my high school years. “Take the freaking blessing and be glad for it.”

            “Yes, Mother dear. I love you.” I stood up and wrapped her in a hug, hoping she would leave before she got any ideas about retracting her blessing. 

            “You are okay, right? I mean, with everything you’ve been through this year?”

            “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Don’t want to talk about it, Ma…

            She gave a slight intake of breath, as though suddenly recalling something important. “You do know your old friend Samantha is a cop here in town? I think she’s a detective, actually…”   

            “Really? Samantha Orwitz? Wow, I never saw that coming...” Of all the ironic career paths after high school, this one took the cake. Samantha had been breaking laws since middle school.

            “Yeah, why don’t you get a hold of her? Maybe you could work together or something..?”

            “You know what, Mom? That’s actually a brilliant idea.”

            “Well, where did you think you got your smarts? Your father?” She giggled as she made her way out the door. “Goodnight now, hon.”

            “Wow, Mom, you’re really hitting the zingers today.”

            “I know. It’s weird! I think it’s this new beer your father brewed…it’s a bit stronger than I’m used to…”

Inspiration for Jordan "Jordy" Nimsby, My Main Character

With Decaf & Drones barreling towards its epic release date, I've been asked the following question: where does the inspiration for your characters come from? This is occasionally tied to the follow-up: Are they based on people you know, or on yourself, or on strangers you creepily watch from a distance while enjoying a cup of coffee on your porch? Indeed, it's probably a combination of all of these, though there aren't many strangers to watch from the porch seeing as how we live in Northern Michigan. I'd probably wave first, then secretly use them for inspiration. 

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So...where did the original inspiration for Jordan Nimsby come from?

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 Last year I heard a report on the news that as many as 30% of Millennials return home to live with their parents after graduating from college. News sources were making this out to be a huge catastrophe*, and I knew from personal examples that many people could commiserate with the news’ over-dramatization. Still, I saw very few characters in fiction dealing with this issue. Where were the twenty-somethings whose goals were crushed by the economy, life choices or simple bad luck? What would they do upon returning home? How would they persevere and what were their dreams? 

These thoughts (admittedly more existential and political than my usual train of thought) gave birth to Jordan Nimsby, a twenty-something whose dream of becoming a private investigator in the big bad city of Chicago is crushed when an unfortunate series of events leads her to lose her entry-level detective job. Bouncing back into the field proves not to be an option in the current economy and, despite working odd jobs and living with her aunt, Jordan needs to return home to Northern Wisconsin. She is a bit negative about the situation at first, but, being an upbeat person, remains focused on her goals and doesn’t let the tough stuff faze her. Like many resourceful young people nowadays, she begins to realize her dream, albeit in a very different hue than she’d originally imagined. 


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From there, I naturally threw together awesome personality traits from friends and strangers alike to create a person I thought would be not only relate-able but also quirky, fun, honest, and, well, a little dorky (I mean, part of the inspiration had to come from my own personality, right? ;) ). So, there you have it. That's Jordan Nimsby, and I hope you grow to love her as the strong and goofy best friend you never knew you were missing.

*It really isn't, but our culture is obsessed with independence.