May You Live In Interesting Times:

By Thio Isobel Moss

I’ve got ancient (probably not) curses on my mind, and not just because they’re subtle and delicious. Bump has been released into the wilds, and I did something risky. I’ve recently become aware of how my marketing strategy could be vastly improved, but it requires patience and time. Until it’s enacted, I’ll see very little return on investment. So, I chose not to invest.

I spent $150 on marketing for Bump. This was not because I love it any less than Blind Spot.  I’m very proud of it, but I knew I would need the money further down the road. Despite that, I’ve had my best month of sales. No, Bump hasn’t gone viral or done anything truly astonishing. What it has done is immediately found its natural level and stayed there for three days.

That was enough.

It’s selling internationally. I’m getting Kindle Unlimited pages read in respectable quantities—with a few binges in there. All things considered, it is doing remarkably well; far better than I anticipated.

All of this has me reflecting on where I started. Writing was a desperate experiment with an unknown but definite pass/fail line carved in the earth. Every hiccup induced panic, and every mistake seemed catastrophic.

A week ago, emails were flying thick and fast between Kindle Direct Publishing and me because the pricing on Blind Spot had frozen. It was at the wrong price, and I couldn’t change it for about eleven days. They assured it would be fixed before Bump launched, and it was.

Six months ago, it would have been the end of everything. Where I’m at now, I kept working and, beyond creating a paper trail should it prove necessary, didn’t worry. I’ve had several major breakthroughs in the last few days. I have enough evidence to say that this experiment is working. I have maintained a healthy Bookbub ad campaign for a few weeks now, rather than it falling apart after a few days. A few well-placed promotions are helping Bump find its readers and lifting Blind Spot up, as well. I have realized, without ever intending to, that my personal style incorporates much of the regional style I grew up with.

A funny little aside: I was researching Ozark folklore for a book (go figure), and came across the Hinged-Tailed Bing Buffer. I was immediately entranced. Bing Buffer. The words are pure magic! And then it reminded me of the Snot Otters in Blind Spot (a real name for real Midwestern river salamanders), as well as the “magnificent blue-tipped green-spangled crimson-crested Milnederian ducks” Veritas releases. I blame my dad’s stories of working on a dairy farm without a bucket and walking uphill to school both ways.

Anyway…

As an indie author, I have learned to be grateful for the setbacks, hiccups, and misunderstandings. I kept going, and I learned. I have so much more confidence in myself now and a much better understanding of how this whole writing thing works. The setbacks haven't become pleasant. Pricing glitches are still annoying. Slow sales are still disappointing. I still have moments where I wonder what on earth I'm doing.

The difference is that I no longer see every obstacle as a verdict.

More often than not, it's a lesson waiting to be understood.

So, that old curse—“May you live in interesting times”—is, to my mind, a very great blessing. It provides material for me to write about and strengthens my resolve. So please take this in the spirit it was intended: May you live in interesting times, too.