From Zombos Closet

September 2011

Marketing Your Book And You Part 1
By Scott M. Baker

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Skeleton_kneeling

What? You mean I spent a year writing my book, six months revising it, and three years getting it published, and you tell me that was the easy part?

Yup.

[NOTE: Of all the people I’ve talked to over the years in the publishing industry, most have stated that the average time to find a publisher is six years. Bear in mind, that’s the average. One mid-list SciFi writer who is now well established told me it took him ten years to place his first novel. So don’t get discouraged after your first dozen rejection slips. This is a long and ego-bruising process.]

It’s time for the harsh reality. Your novel is a product. In publishing, it’s competing with thousands of others just like it. If you’re lucky beyond your wildest dreams, you’ll hit a homerun your first time at bat like J.K. Rowling did withHarry Potter, or achieve the success Brian Keene did with The Rising and establish a wide following. However, more than likely, as with the vast majority of authors, you will have to struggle to build your reputation. You will have to make the readers aware that your book is out on the market, convince them to purchase a copy, and hope that they like it enough to come back for more and/or talk you about on their blog or Facebook/Twitter. Up until now you’ve spent all your time writing that first book. Now you have to spend just as much time marketing it if you ever hope to see your second book published. Trust me on this one – I’m speaking from experience.

[DISCLAIMER: What I’m about to say next is a generalization about the industry and does not hold true in each and every case. My publisher, Pill Hill Press, understands that it takes several years and several books for an author to come into his/her own, and is very nurturing in that process. However, I know of other publishers that I will not name that see their authors as resources to be exploited for their own gain. That is why, as I stressed in a previous blog, an author must be careful about who he/she contracts with and not feel as though they must take the first offer that comes along.]

Publishing is an industry. As in any industry, if you can’t turn a profit for the company, the company will let you go and find someone who can make them money. Publishers spend a certain amount to get your book into print in the anticipation that it will be popular and turn a profit. The industry closely tracks book sales. If the book doesn’t sell well, for whatever reason, and if it the publisher is not able to at least break even, then good luck getting them or anyone else to take a chance on your second book.

The good news is the rapid advances in e-publishing. Since the initial outlay to publish an e-book is so much less since the company does not have to worry about printing and shipping costs, the chances of your book turning a profit are greater. Conversely, your royalty on an e-book should be greater than with a hardcover or paperback.

Compounding the problem is the vast number of books on the market today. Gone are the days when a publishing house had a small but reliable cache of authors and would devote its time and resources to making them successful. Today, most publishers dedicate their limited public relations budget to those books or authors they deem most marketable, letting the rest of us fend for ourselves. Even those publishing houses that look after their authors include clauses in their contracts that require the author to take upon themselves much of the responsibility for marketing the book. It’s a fact of life of the industry today.

Years ago the author’s mantra used to be “Write or Die.” Today it’s “Market or Die.”

The good news is, marketing yourself and your book is neither costly nor difficult, and requires only a commitment of your time.

Since you have a product to sell, you need a place to sell it. So begin by setting up a blog. Don’t be too elaborate. The goal is to provide a forum to primarily discuss your writing, so everything that goes on it should be geared to that end. My blog layout contains the basics: a photo and brief bio of myself, links to my web presence and where to purchase my books, links to other websites I frequent, and banners to vampire- and zombie-related websites that have also provided links to my blog. As for your website, keep it simple. I recently closed down my old website because I was paying way too much for hosting it. My new site, which I am currently preparing, will contain bulk data (i.e. sample chapters from my books, book trailers, videos and photos) and links to my blog and Facebook/Twitter pages.

Before you begin, check out several blogs and websites for authors you like to see what they have done, then create your own. If the idea of setting up one intimidates you, don’t let it. There are several sites out there that allow the technologically-impaired to easily set up and manage a blog or website. Once you spend the time to create your blog and homepage, keep up with them. Try to post on your blog at least three days a week. If a potential fan clicks on your site and sees that it hasn’t been updated since the Red Sox won the last World Series, they won’t bother following you. It takes half a day at most to set one up and only a few hours a week to maintain it.

Also, be sure to keep the content interesting. Post updates about your writing, when you sign a contract or get published, any conventions or book signings you’re attending, etc. If someone reviews your work, link to their website and give them a shout out. And be sure to vary the content. If your blog is only about you and your writing, you’ll bore readers. Include postings that are fun or informative. I post the weekly Sunday Bunnies about my pets; reviews of genre books I’ve read and movies I’ve seen; and news about upcoming genre-related events. If the blog is all about you and how great you are, you’ll bore readers and lose followers.

My Halloween: Caffeinated Joe

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NikDaveHalloween2009 Five questions asked over a glowing Jack o’Lantern, under an Autumn moon obscured by passing clouds…in between mouthfuls of candy corn…and coffie with Caffeinated Joe…

Why is Halloween important to you?

Well, first off, Autumn is my favorite season, so right off the bat, Halloween falls in the right spot. Second, horror films are my favorite genre, so it gets to be a win-win here. Just have always loved the crunch of leaves, the smell in the air, the sun setting earlier. Yeah, I know most people like it the opposite, but not me. Bring on the dark nights! From the spooky decorations, the TV specials and movie marathons, there really isn’t much that isn’t great about Halloween to me!

Describe your ideal Halloween.

Right now, an ideal Halloween involves my kids ending up in the costumes they want, whether they are hand made or store bought or a little of both. Them enjoying trick-or-treating and the Halloween parade in town is priority number one. But, once they are in bed, I situate myself in front of the TV and watch whatever horror goodness is airing. I do this all October, really, between AMC’s Monsterfest (or whatever it is called now), TCM’s classic films and whatever else is airing around the tube. Lots and lots of late nights every October! And I ALWAYS make sure to watch my favorite movie of all-time, Carpenter’s Halloween. I never tire of it.

What Halloween collectibles do you cherish, or hate, or both?

We have a bunch of stuff, Halloween-decoration-wise. We have a skeleton/ghost that descends while playing creepy music. Also have a haunted light-up village and other odds and ends. And I have horror movie stuff, collectibles from Halloween, Friday the 13th, etc. One of my favorites is a Jason mask I was given as a gift. Also have 1/4” scale Jason statue and a Michael Myers that plays the theme.

When was your very first Halloween, the one where “you really knew” it was Halloween, and how was it?

Well, I don’t remember my first Halloween. But I do remember my mother making our costumes and going as a clown one year. And then buying those Ben Cooper costumes, with the crappy masks that hurt and the ties that snapped after three houses. And coming home with a buttload of candy and swapping pieces out with my brothers and sister and cousins. And watching creepy shows on TV, including Charlie Brown.

What’s the one Halloween question you want to be asked and what’s your answer?

I don’t know. Maybe “What’s the oddest Halloween memory you have?” I would answer that one year, my brother, my sister and my cousins went trick-or-treating and then later that night going into the cemetery that was right behind our house. We walked all the way through to the far end, which was quite a walk. And they had this big religious statue. One of my cousins walked up to it and she pretended to be ‘entranced’. None of us were buying her act, but she laid down on the grass and then waited and when she stood she acted possessed. I have to admit, for a moment, my heart jumped. Not because of her non-acting, but just because of the mystery Halloween night has, especially being in a dark cemetery as the hours ticked closer to midnight!

I have no pictures of me from Halloween handy right now, but attached is one of my two younger kids from two Halloweens ago, at Disney World in Florida. My daughter is dressed up as Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd and my son is dressed up as Ghost Charlie Brown from It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. They got to trick-or-treat at Downtown Disney, which was a lot of fun, and then at my sister-in-law’s neighborhood, which was also fun – and warm, which was different, since we are from New England!

Thanks for letting me play!

My Halloween: John Skeleton

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John SkeletonFive questions asked over a glowing Jack o’Lantern, under an Autumn moon obscured by passing clouds…in between mouthfuls of candy corn…with John Skeleton (John Skeleton’s Horror Blog)…and also writing for Scream magazine when the lights are low…

Why is Halloween important to you?

Halloween, All Hallow’s Eve, Samhain…whatever name you call it by, there’s something thrilling about the 31st of October that sends shivers down my spine…in the very best way possible!  I am fascinated with the origins of the holiday, especially the idea that on that evening all of the witches, demons, evil spirits, and sorcerers hold sway and celebrate their revelries under the tenebrous cover of night.

The fire festivals of Britain, the Scottish traditions, and the Celtic celebrations of Samhain have all filtered down through history and somehow manifested themselves in the only holiday dedicated to those things that go bump in the night. For a fan of horror and the Gothic such as myself, I feel like Halloween is the one day of the year that I can be myself, and also watch the “normal” folks get into the spirit of devilish delight! The gleefully ghoulish house decorations, the creepy costumes, the long hours of horror marathons running on the television, mountains of candy…I love every minute of it!

Describe your ideal Halloween.

My ideal All Hallow’s Eve falls upon the night of the full moon, with a few wisps of clouds above and a chill breeze rattling through hoary tree branches that stretch into the sky like decrepit and decaying fingers of the dead. Eldritch sounds can be heard echoing through the wood, emanating not from evil spirits of the forest, but from a large house situated deep among the trees, where the children of the night have gathered to celebrate the forces of Darkness.

Massive and well-constructed, the numerous rooms of the old Victorian now serve as chambers of the morbid and macabre. Classic gems of horror cinema spray blood and gore across a massive projector screen in one room, while another contains multiple gaming consoles where eager players battle against the undead and other unholy creatures…or take on their personas themselves. Sepulchral melodies echo from a room where bodies twist and writhe in unholy ecstasy, and for the more adventurous there is even a fully equipped “torture” room where pleasure and pain melt and congeal together until they are one and the same.

The highlight of the evening comes at the witching hour, when an authentic Black Mass is performed deep in the bowels of the sanctuary…Okay, well I may have gotten a bit carried away there, but a man can dream, can’t he?

What Halloween collectibles do you cherish, or hate, or both?

As I currently live in Japan, there is a tragic dearth of Halloween collectibles to be had here in the Land of the Rising Sun. That said, I like to keep things in my bedroom that many people might find at least a little bit odd. Some of my favorite pieces that could be considered vaguely Halloween-related are my life-size skeleton model, two anatomical models, a bottle of some mysterious liquor with a cobra and scorpion inside, and my stuffed and mounted bat. Factor in my pet snake, scorpion, and tarantula, and it’s pretty much Halloween every day around here!

When was your very first Halloween, the one where you really knew it was Halloween, and how was it?

To be honest, while the memories have faded with time I still have photos of a Halloween night long ago when my parents dressed me up as a black cat, complete with a nose and whiskers supplied courtesy of my mother’s makeup box. I trace the roots of my urge to dress up and my love for Halloween back to that point.  As early as I can remember I always loved adorning my bedroom with fake spider webs, skeletons, and all manner of spooky paraphernalia, and in the end my parents always had to remove them, for if I had had my way it would have been like that all year round!

What’s the one Halloween question you want to be asked and what’s your answer?

Q: Who’s the zombie chick in the photo?

A: That would be yours truly last Halloween! While I wasn’t able to get so elaborate with the makeup, I had a blast with my friends at a big Goth party in Tokyo.

Dracula and Plague of the Zombies
Double Bill Pressbook

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What I love about this large-format, foldout, double bill movie pressbook for Hammer's Dracula, Prince of Darkness and The Plague of the Zombies are the promotional giveaways offered: vampire fangs for boys  and zombie eyes (the old x-ray eyeglasses doing double duty here) for girls.

Cool gimmicks, but sexist in the wording: note how boys get to "fight back…bite back" with Dracula's fangs, and the girls get to "defend" themselves "with zombie eyes." Of course, if you choose to think about it all a tad deeper, you'd eventually puzzle over how zombie eyes could defend against vampire fangs. Any suggestions?

dracula and plague of the zombies pressbook

dracula and plague of the zombies pressbook

dracula and plague of the zombies pressbook

dracula and plague of the zombies pressbook

dracula and plague of the zombies pressbook

dracula and plague of the zombies pressbook

Comic Book Review: Animal Man 1
Warning From the Red

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animal man 1 comic book Zombos Says: Good

I'm new to Animal Man and probably wouldn't have picked up any of the issues except for DC sending me a review copy for their The New 52! reboot.  I like it. I like Jeff Lemire's story more than Travel Foreman's pencils, but there's enough like to share with both.

The use of a full-text opening page is pretty daring, but it sets the tone for the story and it's lively–written as a quick, but revealing, interview with A-Man conducted by The Believer magazine. Lemire sets up the next few pages in Buddy Baker's kitchen with his family. His wife's grumpy, his daughter Maxine wants a doggie, and A-Man–or is it just Buddy B, average guy now?–isn't sure which foot or paw to put forward until his son Cliff mentions the hostage situation at the hospital. At least it gets him out of the house.

Foreman's wispy thin lines are not a deal maker or breaker for me, they're just a little too feminine when more masculine is needed. Dare I say dainty? For chrissakes this is Animal Man where talking about. Brutish, feral, big gonad animus daddy doesn't spring to my mind through Foreman's art. He seems to have a little trouble with certain head angles, but overall the emotion in each panel does come through. Then again, the nightmare sequence, colored in greys, blacks, and reds, shrieks horror! with its primal energy. So I'll sum it by saying Foreman's style is not my cup of pencils, but it still works well to enhance the story, even if I'm thinking a Neal Adams' ruggedness-styled A-Mannish approach more appropriate. 

Lemire doesn't waste any of his 20 pages and his writing style melds with Foreman's lighter touch to produce a solid read for the first issue. The interaction between Buddy's family is earnest, real, and the doubts and concerns and needs of everyone, including Buddy, makes the storyline naturally peak to the last panel, which comes as a morbid surprise adding to a growing mystery I'd want to know more about in issue 2.

Comic Book Review: Swamp Thing # 1
Raise Dem Bones

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20110908095040_001 ZC Rating 4 of 7: Very Good

Frankly, I consider DC's The New 52! reboot a brilliant, but cheesy, marketing gimmick to boost sales. It will certainly do that, but I doubted much good would come out of freshening up the staple titles that make or break the House of DC every month, so I hadn't planned on picking up any of the number one issues; until I received a review copy of Scott Snyder and Yanick Paquette's Swamp Thing in the mail. Did it hit its mark? Sure did. Will I want to continue reading it? Sure will. I think you will want to, too.

Scott Snyder writes his stories by cutting between locations, situations, and people to build his plot's events. He's been damn lucky to have artists who seem to relish all that jumping around and keep up with him, but also add to his narrative in ways–framing, angles, positions of characters–he probably didn't even think of. Snyder's a very cinematically-minded writer in how he makes his stories build, and they have a completeness between issues, with clean, integral dialog, and visually important actions capping neatly at the given page length.

You get that sense of completeness reading this first Swamp Thing issue, Raise Dem Bones. We see birds dying in Metropolis, then bats dying in Gotham, then fish dying in the ocean in the space of 3 pages, switch to a disillusioned Dr. Holland doing a construction gig in Louisiana, and then visit an archeological dig in Arizona. It's the mastodon bones in the dig in Arizona that kick things into horror gear, and the 3 men who return to the dig at night get their necks all bent out of shape with what they find. Paquette doesn't really panel his art, it just wraps around and across the pages, word ballons and narrative blocks  like a rich vine. Snyder's dialog exchange between Dr. Holland and Superman, and the narrative embellishment to scenes are just enough, just right, and meld with the artwork. Or does the artwork meld with it?

Either way, this series is off to a very good start.

My Halloween: Scott M. Baker

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Halloween 4Five questions asked over a glowing Jack o'Lantern, under an Autumn moon obscured by passing clouds…in between mouthfuls of candy corn…with author Scott M. Baker (The Vampire Hunters)…

Why is Halloween important to you?

It’s the one day of the year where everyone wants to be scared. It gives those who ignore the genre for the other 364 days of the year an opportunity to know the thrill and enticement us genre fans experience daily.

Describe your ideal Halloween.

My ideal Halloween would be to own a home with a large enough front yard to set up a really awesome nightmare display. I dream of having desiccated zombies crawling out of the dirt along the driveway, corpses hanging from the tree, a giant spider precariously perched above the front door, and anything else my twisted imagination can dream up.  In my hometown lived a guy who used to deck out his house with so many Christmas lights that people would drive from miles around just to see it; I want people to do the same for my Halloween display.

What Halloween collectibles do you cherish, or hate, or both?

I like most of the Halloween decorations I put up around my place. The vampire bat with the four-foot wingspan that hangs over my garage. The decaying skeleton torso I hang from my bedroom window. The life-size Angel of Death I hang from the door knocker.

The collectible that is nearest to me is a simple ceramic skull that I set up on the dining room table every year. Back when I was a kid, my Aunt Bobby made it for me in art class because she knew that, as a Monster Kid, I would appreciate it. Today it wouldn’t scare a three-year-old, but that doesn’t matter. It reminds me of my aunt, who passed away almost ten years ago, and how she was one of the many family members who encouraged that weird little kid who loved monsters.

When was your very first Halloween, the one where you really knew it was Halloween, and how was it?

I don’t remember my very first Halloween. I do remember, however, Halloween as a kid in general. A few weeks before the holiday, my parents would take me to the costume section of the local department store to choose what I wanted to be that year. Back then, the costumes came in small boxes and consisted of a cheap, flimsy, overall-type outfit with an accompanying plastic face mask with eye holes so small they scraped the hell out of your lids. (You Monster Kids out there know exactly what I’m talking about.) Then on the hallowed night I would go out and prowl the neighborhood, where I thought I was the scariest/coolest monster on the block, and return home to eat myself into a self-induced sugar high.  I miss those simple times.

What's the one Halloween question you want to be asked and what's your answer?

Q: What would be your ultimate Halloween costume? A: I would want a make-up artist to deck me out as a rotting zombie with the whole nine yards: grotesque, oozing neck wound; ripped open abdomen with the obligatory intestines hanging out; and torn up face with exposed jaw.

I also have a standing invitation from a close author fiend to go out one Halloween with her and her daughter as Gomez, Morticia, and Wednesday Addams. I’m hoping to cash in on that someday.

Sunset Boulevard (1950)

/ Movies (Non-horror) / 4 Comments

Sunsetboulevard
Zombos Says: Sublime

Well, this is where you came in, back at that pool again, the one I always wanted. It's dawn now and they must have photographed me a thousand times. Then they got a couple of pruning hooks from the garden and fished me out… ever so gently. Funny, how gentle people get with you once you're dead.

I've watched Billy Wilder's Sunset Boulevard about 4 times, give or take, but this is the first time I've paid attention that there are no knobs on the doors–no locks–just round holes where they should be. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I better explain why I'm writing about a non-horror movie before you diehard fans de-Twitter me or minus me from your Google+ circles or deface my Facebook page because I insist on talking about a non-horror movie you really must see. Here's why: the story's narrated by a dead guy, the one you see floating in the middle of the pool at the beginning. How can you not love a story narrated by a dead guy? And he's not even a zombie. He's just really dead. How refreshing. 

Why he winds up that way involves a forgotten Hollywood mansion where a forgotten silent film star dwells in a forgotten world of ignorant opulence (maybe not so forgotten). She dreams of returning to the big screen, shutting out any daylight that might wake her up. Those absent door knobs are missing from the big, ornate, doors in her old, brooding mansion. Maybe they were removed, one by one, over the long years, but they most likely were taken off all at once, after she became suicidal. A lot. It's a mystery, really, as to what depresses her so much: is it really the lack of a movie contract or a lover or her lost audience? Oddly enough, it's the only mystery in this noir crime story with the dead guy floating in her swimming pool, and her first husband (Erich von Stroheim) living with her as butler and chauffeur, and with her "waxwork" friends (like silent film comedian Buster Keaton, playing himself) showing up every week to play a quaint game of Bridge and reminisce. Desperation leads the soon to be corpse to this place and desperation keeps him there; not his, but Norma's.

Let's start with the corpse, Joe Gillis (William Holden). He's a down and out script writer–was, rather. Before he wound up in the pool Norma adopts him as her kept man, mostly because he's a good writer and she has a lousy script for him to fix, but also because he's handsome and she's lonely without an audience. With one leg in Norma's world and the other back at the movie studio with the younger and saner Betty (Nancy Olson), Joe's precarious ambitions start sparking from the friction between the carefree luxury he gets from Norma and the inspirational boost he gets from Betty: she collaborates with him on a script with real potential. And Betty falls in love with him, even though she first fell in love with Joe's friend Artie (Jack Webb). That icing on the cake drips guilty all over Joe when Norma attempts suicide over his interest in Betty because it screws up her affair with him. He likes the money Norma lavishes on him–wouldn't you? He likes the attention lavished on him by Betty–ditto? Which way to go is the tough call he needs to make eventually: live in Norma's made up reality or Betty's real future one? That swimming pool sure is inviting. Lounging by it all day can be intoxicating. 

 Sunset Boulevard's not only about Joe's predicament (lucky bastard, we should all have that kind of quandary), it's about a decadent past, present, and future Hollywood Wilder and fellow scripters (Charles Brackett and D. M. Marshman Jr) penalize everyone in the movie with. It's about fickle celebrity, art versus cash, and the futility of holding out, lounging by the pool when you shouldn't, and not taking a dip when you really ought to. It's all about Norma–but not really, and it's all about Joe–but not really. It's introspective, witty, urbane, and accusatory. 

The other mystery–wait, I said there was only one, didn't I?– is how Billy Wilder got away with it. A lot of people in this movie play themselves or barely cover up the fact: Gossip columnist Hedda Hopper zings as Hedda Hopper; Erich von Stroheim, who plays Norma's former husband now devoted servant, Max, reveals he directed Norma and compares himself to real life directors Cecil B. De Mille and D. W. Griffith.  Stroheim not only directed Swanson in real life, he also got pushed aside when talkies took over, a promising director in real life ignored when it wasn't convenient to pay attention to him. A lot of silent film stars were pissed, too. They saw Norma Desmond from the inside out and the sight was too close for comfort. Wilder went with dark humor and let everyone in on the joke, ironically plays it near parody to make the situation more realistic, and grandly delivers brutal honesty. It's surprising he didn't wind up floating in the pool, too.

Joe's observations are bitingly sarcastic, funny, and sadly true; Norma's delusion is bitingly crazy, funny, and sadly false. When she finally does get a call from the studio it's about the Italian antique car (an Isotta-Fraschini) she is chauffeured around in: they want to use it in a shoot.  Cecil B. Demille (playing himself) doesn't tell her she's not wanted when she comes to the studio her movies helped keep solvent, he's more understanding; but even he knows she will never do another picture and her script reads like a bad silent movie. Norma's past her prime and those exaggerated silent movie gestures she lives and breathes all the time are so not-the-drama anymore. 

The music plays on while Norma and Joe celebrate New Year's Eve dancing across the mansion's empty floor, just the two of them, dressed to the nines. Even when they aren't dancing the musicians keep playing. It's just them, Norma, Joe, and Max, who knows she's two notes short of a full stop. Max directs the musicians to keep playing. He directs Norma's delusion. He knows all she has left is her delusion of returning to the screen. Without it she becomes nothing so he protects her fantasy to the end. He definitely removed all the door knobs. I wonder where he keeps them?

Franz Waxman's (The Invisible Ray, Buck Rogers ) score and John Seitz's camera (Invaders From Mars, When Worlds Collide) bow tie Hans Dreier's (The Uninvited) and John Meehan's (Cult of the Cobra) darkly addressed package of desire, decadence, and demise with a tidy knot, ready to be untied by Norma in ghoulish fashion.  She finally gets the close-up she's been hoping for, although not in the way she planned. We get a classic movie about dreams and delusions, and how the difference between both is pretty small in Hollywood.

The bed in the shape of a swan that Norma Desmond slept in was actually owned by the legendary dancer Gaby Deslys, who died in 1920. It had originally been purchased by the Universal prop department at auction after Deslys's death. The bed appeared in The Phantom of the Opera (1925) starring Lon Chaney. (from the Wikipedia entry on Sunset Boulevard)