Perfect for Kids & Parents

I am not one for regularly promoting subscription services, even those about books, or with an educational bent.

However, this service, Amazon Kids+ is something I feel would benefit many children while giving parents the security and peace of mind about their children using devices.

Designed for children aged between 3 and 12 years, and parents of all ages!

Amazon Parent Dashboard

Discover the books, videos, educational apps, and games kids enjoy in Amazon Kids through Parent Dashboard. Also gain access to child activity and manage settings that include adding content from your personal library, setting daily time limits, modifying web browser behaviour, pausing the device, and more.

Time Limits

Limiting your child’s screen time can be challenging without the proper tools. Amazon Kids lets parents set daily limits, or restrict certain categories – like apps and video – while leaving unlimited time for reading.

Age Filters

Amazon Kids Age Filters ensure that your child sees age-appropriate content within Amazon Kids+. Parents can also adjust Age Filter settings to tailor the experience for each child.

Learn First

With Learn First, parents can block access to games and cartoons until after educational goals are met. For devices with the Bedtime feature enabled, parents can control when Amazon Kids shuts down for the day.

Individual Profiles

Parents can create up to four individual child profiles and give each child selected access to videos, books, Audible content, and apps from their personal library. It’s like giving each kid their very own personalised tablet.

No Surprises

While in Amazon Kids+, kids don’t have access to social media and can’t make in-app purchases without parental approvals.

Endless Fun for Kids.
Peace of Mind for Parents.

Amazon Kids+ is an all-in-one subscription that gives kids access to thousands of kid-friendly books, movies, TV shows, educational apps, and games on compatible Fire, Android, iOS, and Kindle devices.

Parents also receive access to easy-to-use parental controls that allow them to find the right balance between education and entertainment. Parents can personalise screen time limits, set educational goals, filter age-appropriate content, and also manage web browsing and content usage based on their preferences.

Starting at £3.99/month after the one-month free trial, Amazon Kids+ gives kids unlimited access to a world of content to explore and parents the confidence that all content is age-appropriate.

Click this link to see and read more, https://amzn.to/3bRQ76J

A free short story, just for you.

For those who don’t know…

I am Paul White, a multi-genre author of fiction, non-fiction, and semi-fiction.

Many of my short stories are available under the ‘Electric Eclectic’ brand, some are eBooks, others paperback collections, while a growing number are those wonderful Pocketbook Paperbacks that are increasingly popular because of their size, as they really do fit into your pocket. Perfect for reading while commuting or away on vacation.

You can find my books on Amazon and many other bookstores. All are shown on my website

Now, on with the story.

This one is titled ‘Free Spirit’, enjoy.

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FREE SPIRIT

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When I walked into the apartment, I knew this project was going to be fraught with difficulties.

Firstly, the place has been unoccupied for some time; a musty dampness prevailed its entirety. I sensed this staleness was not simply neglect but an ethereal odour of others’ lives, of previous tenants.

Secondly, there were many pieces of furniture still in situ; old, dusty brocade curtains hanging at the windows, personal effects, a small trinket box sitting on the dark wooden sideboard, a silver-backed hand mirror laid on the dresser, and a time-worn leather-bound book on a side table, near the musty, torn chintz-covered armchair, all emitting a staleness of abandonment.

Before I could start the repairs and redecoration, I would have to clear all this old junk from the building. That would involve putting in some extra hours, late nights I had not planned. I was sure the extra effort would be worth it in the end because it is not often one can find such a large home for such a low rent in a neighbourhood of this stature.

On Friday, after work, I hurried to the apartment, eager to begin the clear-out and clean-up.

Once achieved, I could start on the repairs. Tearing off the old wallpaper, ripping up the musty carpets, filling the holes where pictures once hung, all that sort of stuff.

Then I would be in the position to begin to decorate what was to be my new home, my first home.

Fresh paint, light colours on the walls, modern, sleek, designer-style furniture, new light fittings, and mirrors. I like mirrors, they lighten even the dullest corners. I wanted the place to be what I can only describe as understated urban chich.

I was excited.

Tonight, I would be alone. My friends, the ones who offered to help, were all out on the town, or so they said. I don’t blame them for not being here today, after all, it was a Friday night.

Tomorrow, I had promises, commitments from them. I would have a small troop of workers grafting away all day in return for cold beer and snacks, oh, and pizza at the end of the day.

But tonight, it was just me.

My first task was to wrestle the largest items of furniture into a group by the lounge door, so my team of workers could easily carry them out to the skip, which was due by eight o’clock in the morning.

I was surprised by the weight of the old furniture. I’m uncertain if it was Mahogany or Oak, but it took all my effort to ‘waltz’ it across the room. No wonder the previous occupiers had left it where it stood.

By the time I had shifted all the pieces, I was sweating from the effort.

Opening the window did not cool me down. The air was too heavy and humid, and too weak to do more than slightly move those heavy curtains.

It was now midnight, but before I finished for the day, I wanted all the drapes removed, the litter from the floors swept and binned. I wanted this room ready for paper stripping, and carpet removal.

By the end of the weekend, I would be happy if this room and the hallway were ready for my creative attention. If I could get at least one of the two bedrooms stripped too, well, that would be a bonus.

Right now, my stomach was grumbling. I needed to eat. Anyway, it was time to take a break. A stroll to the all-night cafe on the corner, where I could grab a coke, a sandwich, a pork pie, or toasted sandwich. It would do me the world of good to eat something.

Once in the café, I decided I would be wasting time if I stayed to eat, so I carried my refreshments back to the apartment.

Wearily lowering myself into the tatty chintz armchair, I froze. Looking around the room in disbelief. The coke slipped from my grasp, spilling over the threadbare carpet.

The furniture, and I mean all the furniture I spent the last few hours moving into a group close to the doorway, was now back in its original position.

It was as if I had not moved a single item.

The window was closed, the curtains still, the lingering scent of neglect somehow stronger than before.

There was something more.

I could hear a faint melody floating into the room. Trumpets, brass. Smooth music. Perhaps a nineteen-forties swing band?

I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts. This was not possible.

I moved the furniture. Placed it by the door.

I was trying to convince myself I had not, purely for my sanity.

The music was playing softly.

Surely it was coming from another apartment. Yet it sounded far closer, emanating from somewhere in this apartment.

Maybe I was overtired. Whatever; I needed to get a grip on myself.

I followed the sound, walking slowly along the hallway until I was outside the room where the music was coming from.

Someone was playing a joke on me. My friends have seen me leave, deciding it would be funny to mess with my head.

Angrily I snatched open the door, ready to yell at whoever was doing this, whoever found it funny to try and scare me.

The volume from the gramophone blasted out a crackling version of Chattanooga Choo Choo as I stepped into the room.

I halted, standing stock still.

I could not comprehend what I was seeing. This room was perfect. A nineteen-forties parlour. No damp, no faded wallpaper, no rotting furniture.

It was bright, new, perfect.

“Come in, David,” she said, “sit yourself down. I have been waiting for you.”

To my right, I saw a handsome-looking woman. She was wearing a flowing evening gown, long white gloves, and a pearl necklace.

In front of me, a well-ordered room, brightly lit and warm. Behind me, a cold dank hallway, the discoloured wallpaper peeling from the walls.

This was surreal.

“Don’t be shy,” she said, “come, sit, enjoy some champagne.”

She was holding out a wide-rimmed coupe glass at arm’s length. Hesitantly, feeling I had little option, I took the glass from her hand.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Oh, you young people, you are always in such a hurry,” she replied, smiling, and lifting her glass towards mine.

We touched glasses. Automatically I said, “Cheers.”

She smiled at me again, replying with a “Chin, chin.” She sipped her champagne without wetting her dark red lips.

I sat, bolt upright, in a small chair, and as nervous as hell. She lay back, relaxing on a chaise lounge opposite my chair.

If I were dreaming, this was far too real.

The woman spoke. “So, you want to move into my home, to come and live with me. Do you, David?” Her eyes were firmly focused on mine.

“There must be some confusion,” I said, “I have just bought this apartment, it’s mine.”

“Oh no, David,” she answered, shaking her head, “It will never be yours, it belongs to me, and forever will.”

 “I don’t understand,” I replied.

 She nodded understandingly, reaching out, placing a gloved hand on my knee, patting me like a reassuring aunt.

“My husband built this building back in the early 1930s. I have lived here ever since the day it was completed. I shall never leave. Now, I like you, David. You are a fine young man, so I am willing to let you stay if you wish to share my home with me?”  She left the sentence hanging.

I sat motionlessly, my mouth ajar. I did not know what to say.

“Well, David” she prompted, “what have you to say?”

“This place, it’s a mess, all old and rotting. I need to clean it up, do repairs, redecorate, get new furniture… except this room, your room, its lovely, I mean it’s really nice.” I knew I was gabbling, the words tumbling from my mouth faster than I could think.

“Oh, David.” She said, “don’t worry about that for now, just tell me if you will be happy sharing my home.”

“But when people come, my friends, family. How do I explain this room, or you?” I asked.

She smiled like an understanding aunt looking at a child. Patting my knee again she said, “No one will know, David. No one except you.”

“But this room, when people look around, they’ll…”

She interrupted me. “More Champagne. You look pale, you’re shaking. A good drink will settle your nerves.” She continued, “Think, David. This apartment, how many rooms are there? Don’t answer, but this room is not one of them, is it?”

I was mentally counting, walking through the apartment. She was right, this room was not one of them. This room did not exist.

My mind was in a whirl. “I, I, I don’t know. The furniture, I moved it. I put it by the door, now it is all back where it was. Then I heard the music and… and, I followed the sound. It led me to this room.”

Her laughter filled the room, “Oh my dear boy,” she said, “I have thrown you into a right tizzy, haven’t I?”

I gulped the last of my champagne.

“I have something stronger if you prefer?” she said, “a whisky, perhaps. I know what you men are like.”

I was nodding. It was an almost unconscious action as my mind was whirring. Random pieces of thoughts flew through my mind.

“Do not fear. You may decorate the apartment as you wish. I will not stop you, David. That is, if you want to live here? Now, before you worry too much, I don’t leave this room, well, only when the need arises, and I am sure I‘ll have no reason to venture out while you’re here.”

“I would like to live here but, who are you?”

“Oh, my. I have been remiss, haven’t I? How rude of me for not introducing myself. My name is Evelyn, Evelyn Keyes-Johnson.” She held her hand towards me. “So, David, are we friends. Shall you be sharing my home?”

I took her hand and shook it, although slight, Evelyn had a firm grip.

“I would like to stay, and I would be happy sharing with you,” I said, although I had not totally convinced myself. “I do have a question though.”

“Ask away, young man.”

“Are you a ghost?”

Her laughter filled the room with lightness. She smiled a wide, bright grin.

“As I died many years ago some people may call me that,” she said, “but I prefer to consider myself a free spirit.”

END.

Free Spirit©PaulWhite2022

Projection of Thoughts through Space and Time… or Show, don’t Tell.

It’s been a while since I found time to write an informative post for ‘Ramblings’. The reason is, I have concentrated on writing, publishing, and marketing my books, as all good authors should.

The stimulus for me to write this blog post is, recently I have seen many people asking about ‘Show don’t Tell’. Questions such as “How do I do it?”, “What does it mean?”, and ‘why!”

In my regular rambling way… (hence the title of this blog), and without using any more technical terms than necessary, I shall endeavour to share not only what ‘show don’t tell’ means but why it is the golden criterion for all creative writers.

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SO, HERE WE GO…

Firstly, and without any reservation, to write well an author must understand narration.

Creative writing, which includes fiction, principally relies on narrative. The purpose of narration (sometimes referred to as the story’s voice) is to tell a story or ‘narrate’ an event, or series of events.

Inevitably, a major quantity of narration involves description. Description creates, invents, or visually presents a person, place, event, or action, allowing the reader to visualise what the writer is attempting to portray.

Descriptive narrative aims to make vivid a place, an object, or a character. It acts as an imaginative stimulus, allowing the reader to relate to the writer’s notions.

The writer should not simply aim to convey facts about the subject but give the reader a direct impression, thus allowing the reader, the recipient of those words, to create a mental picture that is in union with the writers’ thoughts.

Simply put, through the correct usage of narrative, a writer can project their thoughts into the reader’s mind. Virtually, a form of compliant subliminal connection. One which can transcend both space and time.

To achieve this, writers utilise a practice generally referred to as ‘Show, don’t Tell’.

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SHOW, DON’T TELL.

This term is often attributed to the Russian playwright Anton Chekhov, who is reputed to have said, “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”

What Chekhov factually said, in a letter to his brother, was,

“In descriptions of Nature one must seize on small details, grouping them so that when the reader closes his eyes, he gets a picture. For instance, you’ll have a moonlit night if you write that on the mill dam a piece of glass from a broken bottle glittered like a bright little star and that the black shadow of a dog or a wolf rolled past like a ball.”

You may notice Chekhov does not go into a mass of detail in this explanation. Descriptive writing does not mean the author should attempt to portray the subject in every excruciating detail.

Ernest Hemingway, a notable proponent of the “Show, don’t Tell” style, sustained his ‘Iceberg Theory’, also known as the ‘Theory of Omission’, which he developed while employed as a newspaper reporter.

The term itself originates from Hemmingway’s 1932 bullfighting treatise, Death in the Afternoon.

Hemmingway writes.

“If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows, and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water.”

Creative literature, in general, hinges on the artful use of a wide range of devices (such as inference, metaphor, understatement, the unreliable narrator, and ambiguity) that rewards the careful reader’s appreciation of subtext and extrapolation of what the author chooses to leave unsaid, untold, and/or unshown.

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George Singleton explained this concisely with this notable quotation.

“You do not have to explain every single drop of water contained in a rain barrel. You have to explain one drop – H2O. The reader will get it.”

These examples suggest the writers understood the need to respect their readers, who should be trusted to develop a feeling for the meaning behind the action, without having the point painfully laid out for them.

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Examples follow.

Telling:

He knew something was wrong because he could see the fear in her eyes and that she was trembling.

Showing:

She trembled, looking up at him with fear in her eyes.

In this example, ‘Showing’ uses fewer words but packs twice the punch, because you are seeing her actions demonstrating her fear, instead of being told what one character noticed.

It is rarely the function of a character to notice something, that is the reader’s role. By showing the action, the reader (and the characters) figure it out simultaneously, creating a wonderful ‘aha’ moment using a gripping narrative.

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Telling:

Roger was never very bright when it came to figuring things out, he could never seem to do even simple things right.

Showing:

Roger worked on the crossword puzzle for two hours, scribbling out more incorrect answers than correct ones. The result of all his hard work? Ink stains on his hands.

This example demonstrates the character’s qualities by showing he cannot complete a crossword puzzle and does not realise a pencil would be more practical than a pen.

Showing how your characters behave, readers will interpret their traits automatically. You should not need to endlessly describe every characteristic they have.

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Telling:

There was broken glass on the floor and a pool of blood behind the bar.

Showing:

His boots ground the glass shards on the floor with each step. He let out a gasp as his eyes focused on the puddle of blood behind the bar.

Showing allows the reader to experience the scene through the character’s experience, and places it in context, as does the character’s emotional reaction.

<<>>

Telling:

The pancake tasted bitter; he couldn’t stand it.

Showing:

He spat out the pancake. The congealed mess landed on his plate. “Darlene, why have you put so much baking powder in these pancakes again?”

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You can use dialogue to show ideas, emotions, and actions, which is far preferable to telling the reader. Tasting, for example, is an experiential verb, never tell readers about the experience a character has. Let your reader find out by being part of the action.

When your characters have experiences, you should be showing your reader those experiences through strong scenes and action, not by talking to them from a third-person perspective. This disengages the reader from the story.

If an author understands and utilises ‘Show don’t Tell’ effectively, they will project the essence of their narrative onto the reader in such a way the reader will become fully immersed.

Once the author has ‘captured’ the reader, and they become ‘lost in the book’, then the book becomes ‘unputdownable’, simply because the reader, by their own will and desire, creates a compulsion to find out ‘what happens next’ to the characters within the tale, with whom the reader will now be totally, and emotionally engaged.

This is what makes a good story, a great story.

It is why people read, to escape, to be immersively absorbed and entertained.

It is what sells books.

Remember, someone could be reading your book, anywhere in the world, and at any time in the future, even one hundred years from now, an exchange of extraordinary connection through space and time.

This is one reason I love being an author.

Keep happy, Paul 😊

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Paul White is a prolific author with more than twenty-eight published books, including an Amazon no.1, and an international bestselling author.

He is the Principal of Electric Eclectic books, a founder member of the Authors Professionals Cooperative, and a member of #Awethors, an independent authors’ international alliance.

A good introduction to Paul’s works is, ‘Within the Invisible Pentacle’, a collection of short, and not so short, stories.

Available via Amazon. UK, https://amzn.to/3HRUGrC All other areas, mybook.to/wtipentacle

Your website is now irrelevant

NOTE: This is, unapologetically, long post. You will know why once you read it!

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The thing is, I am so busy with various projects I rarely find the time to write anything of substance for these ramblings, and I don’t want to fill these pages with the type of uninteresting drivel I see on so many people’s blogs.

I assume they do so simply to fill their pages with ‘content’, regardless of quality. Something I am not prepared to do.

This post, which I have titled ‘Your website is now irrelevant’, came from a discussion I watched on the BBC last night, or rather during the early hours of this morning. (11^th of January 2022)

The subject of the conversation was regarding the first anniversary of the Capitol Riots in the USA when ‘a violent mob’ stormed the Capitol building as Congress was certifying Joe Biden’s victory in the 2020 election. (The ‘riots’ happened on January 6^th 2021)

Now, the TV program was about the media action/reaction to this event more than the actual event itself.

During this discussion, an editor from Vibe Media, (I did not catch her name), said something which I found interesting enough for me to be motivated to write this post, as it is something I believe we, as indie authors, who self-market our books, try and maintain a strong social media presence, and promote our ‘brand’, should take seriously.

We all know the world, particularly in respect of the internet and communications, is exponentially changing, and this continuous transformation is difficult to keep abreast of.

One of the basic premises of marketing most indie authors have adopted is having an author or brand website.

We use this as our home for all things bookish and publishing. We use it as the solid base from where we promote and market our works. To entertain and inform our readers, to attract ‘new’ readers to our books.

We spend hours creating, editing, altering, and polishing our websites to make them attractive enough to seduce people to buy our books. (Not to mention the costs involved in maintaining a good site.)

These sites are often treated as our ‘babies’. The hub of our author presence on the net, the web, and on social media.

However…

I love a ‘however’, so I’ll say it again.

However…

According to Vibe Media, your website, my website, most, if not all websites, are now archaic forms of internet interaction.

Soon websites, as we know them, will become superfluous.

They are becoming outmoded with every day that passes and will soon be redundant.

This got me thinking… and researching.

Now I agree.

This ground shift is happening, and it’s happening right now.

It’s all to do with effective connection to the masses.

You see a website, any website, yours, mine, theirs, is a static medium.

To get traffic you must attract people to visit your site. This means promoting the site, advertising, posting, and such.

Secondly, you need them to interact, buy, click links, comment, subscribe and, most importantly, and return frequently.

I don’t know your websites numbers, such as visitors, bounces, returners, or how long visitors spend browsing, or even buying stuff.

I guess it’s not as many as you wish, and not often enough, even if you have spent a fortune on learning about funnelling or paying a tech guru to assist you.

Author websites are good for storing a ton of information about you and your products/books, but not good for ongoing engagement in the marketplace.

I mean, when was the last time you found people working their way through your site’s archives and reading the information and posts? (I won’t wait for an answer.)

Taking into consideration you need to write and curate a ton of fresh content, constantly and continually. It’s a lot of hard work, especially when you should be promoting your books and writing the next.

Bearing this in mind, I agree with Vibe.

Websites are no longer the go-to places people look for engaging content. Especially the younger ones, those born since the year 2000.

This age group prefers online media, TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, YouTube, Twitter, Tumblr, Live.me, and Facebook.

Of course, there’s more site our younger generations adopt; WhatsApp, Omegal, MeetMe, Yubo, Monkey, Whisper, and so on. These tend to be ‘Chat’ sites, many only known by the Gen X’s and Millennials.

Some of these are ‘self-destructing’, they erase all, (text and images) after a certain time making communication private… and possibly dangerous… I’ll just leave that one here.

So, what is the point of this post from our, the indie author position, and our rapidly becoming redundant websites.

It is for us to accept change is inevitable and to change our ways along with the inexorable shift. (Yep, it all happens so quickly ‘Nowadays’!)

I am taking a leaf out of Vibes marketing strategy. My author website will remain, but only as a repository for information, such as my library and author info.

I will not be promoting it as much as previously. I certainly won’t be spending hours creating and curating content, which after posting about new content, the initial flow of visitors dries up, meaning you need to do the same all over again.

Instead, I shall concentrate on creating posts I can post directly onto the social platforms where there are either substantial numbers of people hungrily devouring its content, or directly onto sites, pages, and platforms where I know my target market is engaging.

The time and effort in doing this will only equal, if not be less than the time needed to housekeep my website, or websites… some I’ll soon be closing, as time is more important to create quality media which will be seen, rather than simply tending to what was once my baby.

Although I doubt William Faulkner could have envisaged the internet, let alone social media, I do think his quote, “You must kill off your Darlings” expresses this concept perfectly, even if we need to interpret it in a new light.

Let me know your thoughts.

Keep Happy, Paul

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While I still have a website! Please visit and browse through my books, artworks & Photography. I am certain you’ll find something you’ll enjoy reading or seeing.

http://bit.ly/paulswebsite

A writing prompt for you

Regular readers of these Ramblings will know this post is a little ‘off-beat‘ to those I generally write. However, read on, I am certain you’ll find this entertaining if not a little… well, read on to find out…

_{^{I have the sunglasses.}}

_{^{Racing at the Yas Marina Circuit in Abu Dhabi}}

Although I am a multi-genre author, I do not tend to write science fiction and have never attempted a dystopian novel.

However, this does not stop my thoughts from wandering into such realms, such as it did a short while ago.

I was contemplating the forthcoming lifting of travel restrictions and therefore, by default, thinking about the pandemic, when this idea entered my mind.

Now, I have heard several conspiracy theories which claim Covid 19 is fake. Many of these theories then speculate about mass public control, or Illuminati culling the human species and so forth.

I am sure you have read many such posts on social, especially at the start of the Pandemic.

As part of my thought process, which was an uncontrollable stirring of the muses, I recalled the 2007 film ‘Invasion’ and the ‘Pod People’.

For those who are not familiar with the film, this is the explanation on Wiki:  

“In ‘The Invasion’, the aliens are a virus. After the person falls asleep, the virus re-writes human DNA.

Then, these Genetically Modified (post-humans?) vomit a gelatinous substance to continue the invasion.

As their invasion snowballs, the pod people transform humans by injecting them with the substance under the guise of ‘influenza vaccines’”.

 So, you may be asking… if you are still reading this… what my mind was doing with all this information.

Well, simple, it was drafting a rough outline for a novel that goes something like this. (Conspiracy theorists get your pens ready!)

What if this Covid 19 pandemic is fake?

What if it is planned unilateral action taken by world leaders?

What if they are doing it to appease an extra-terrestrial lifeform who have returned to ‘Harvest’ their human crop?

What if our governments are attempting to assuage the aliens by offering a limited number of humans, hence the major number of ‘deaths’ in the first wave?

Then, a lesser number in the second and third waves of the pandemic and the lockdowns, as our leaders negotiate with the extraterrestrials?

What if they are hiding the truth to protect us, to protect society?

It is said the human race may have come from stardust… maybe our ancestors were simply seeds?

Many peoples ask what is the point of life, of being… maybe we are just being bred as food, on a farm we call the universe?

Maybe we developed beyond that which was expected, maybe we have a chance of survival if we give up some of our numbers every 1000 years or so… maybe, one day we could fight back, even escape?

Maybe… You write the story… I’ll read it.

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In the meantime, could I temp you to read one of my books? Check them out if you will by visiting my website.

The best time to release your new book

Yesterday I completed another book, making it ready for publication.

Over the previous three days, I have titivated with the internal layout, put the final finickity touches to my tome, trying to ensure I have no orphaned sentences, that the images, I have several throughout the book, are set as I wish and then, once again a run-through for any grammatical, punctuation or other errors such messing about can create.

For the two days before, I worked on finalising the cover.

The book Is now filed away awaiting the right window for publication. (I’m thinking sometime around May.)

The reason, I believe this will be the BEST time for me to release this book.

But is there a best time for you to release a book?

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Let’s look at how this publishing game pans out over the year, and what else might influence when you make your book available.

Publishing your book as soon as it is ready is termed ‘soft publication.’

Your ‘media date’ or ‘hard publication date’ or ‘release date’ can be whenever you think the stars are going to align with your media coverage and the success of your pre-release marketing.

It should be when you think you can sell the most books.

Traditionally, in the UK, new books are published on a Thursday, especially a Thursday between the 7^th and 14^th of the month.

The weeks leading up to autumn are often some of the busiest times for new releases, as publishers jockey to fill bookstore shelves ahead of the upcoming winter holidays.

If you read are a regular reader of my blog on writing, ‘Ramblings from a Writers Mind’ or have any of my books on authorship, you will know I often say, “Copy what the big boys do.”

The reason I say that is, the major publishers rarely do anything by chance. They spend a fortune on strategic planning and market research to ensure they get the right books, in the right places, at the right time to maximise their sales and hence their revenue.

Regarding the release of your next book, you could follow my advice and do the same as the major publishers.

But wait a moment. Let’s think about a few things first.

Some would say, do not release your book anytime between a Tuesday and a Thursday, because doing so will put your book in direct competition with the major publishing houses’ releases.

Suggestions of when is best include weekends, a Saturday will (generally) give you five whole days before the big houses release another title.

Some industry data points to Sundays and Mondays to attract the most journalistic attention.

It may be worth choosing a date early or late in the month, (before the 7^th, or after the 14^th), just after or just before the ‘Monthly Payday’.

Of course, there are other considerations, particularly for books of certain genres.

Romance books do well in early February, and a couple of weeks before the summer holiday period.

Horror works well from mid-November, and through October.

Introspective works sell best during the Summer, books like ‘Go Set a Watchman‘ for instance, as do many Adventure stories.

Books described as ‘light & airy‘ do well in the Springtime.

Unsurprisingly, winter tales, snowy themes and settings, do well during the winter months.

But there’s more to consider than the seasons.

The premise of your book can be all-important at certain times too.

Check out which television series are scheduled over the next six months to a year, find which have comparable stories, settings, locations, or characters to your book.

If your book is a period tale and a new costume drama is to be released on Television in August, then that program could help boost your sales.

If the new Sci-Fi blockbuster is due out in March… go for it. Major publishers have been known to change the name of a book to align with a mainstream film title.

For example, say a film, a Sci-Fi blockbuster sequel is named ‘Beyond the Far Crescent’, the publisher may alter a book’s title from, ‘From the Planets Shadow’ to ‘The Light of the Crescent’.

Never be afraid to re-title your book to align it with the marketplace, demographics, or current trends.

Consider too Special Calendar Days.

Easter time always sees a boost in Christian related books. Martin Luther King Day, for Black origin works. International Women’s Day, for strong female characters, feminism, and women’s rights. Remembrance Day, for War Stories, or Memoirs, for instance.

In this case, my advice would be, as I so often say, “do what the big boys do. Learn from them. Use their knowledge to compete with them.” It’s a bit like literary judo, using their size and bulk against them.

I admit there are no hard and fast rules, but I do suggest seriously planning when you release your next book.

Look ahead, research, find out what influences will affect your book, and create your strategy accordingly.

To help you decide when to release, or hold an ‘official’ launch day, here’s a rough guide cobbled together from industry data.

January

Self-help; diet; inspirational; business.

If your book fits into this category, you’ll find the media are particularly interested at this time. Mianly because it’s what many consumers are thinking about. Consider New Year’s resolutions, business forecasting/planning.

February

Self-help associated with relationships; debut authors; business; fiction.

If you are a debut, or relatively new indie author, this month is (generally) not so full of new titles, and there may be more promotion, and media opportunities, as a result.

March

Debut authors; mysteries; fiction

April

Women’s fiction

May

Beach reads; women’s fiction; biographies; books on mountain climbing (Good month for indies)

June

More beach reads; women’s fiction; biographies, or nonfiction that appeal to male readers on vacation, or for Father’s Day.

July

Quieter month, better for debut authors; more of what you saw in June.

A suitable time for indies, as there are fewer ‘new releases to compete with.

August

Debut authors; education-related titles; narrative nonfiction by lesser-known writers… read indie authors. (Get in, before next month.)

September

Public affairs and politics; serial authors in fiction and nonfiction; cooking; highly publicised titles by debut authors with mainstream publishers.

This is the main month, traditionally the annual main release month for major publishers. It is an incredibly competitive month and not indie-friendly.

October

More politics; cooking; big nonfiction titles by well-known personalities and writers; higher-end photography books; art books.

Not an indie-friendly month, unless you are releasing an art or photography title, possibly a nice, glossy, hardcover ‘Coffee Table’ tome.

November

Photography; art; gift books; ‘big name’ authors; diaries and journals, and anything you can think of that will sell in the current budget year.

Go for a well-planned strategic, high publicity release in early November through to the last few days of October.)

December

A good month for lesser-known authors. A variety of books are published, including latecomers for Christmas, or titles for people who want to get a jump on the usual January offerings.

Good for indies looking to establish base sales going into the following year.

UPDATE:

Regarding ‘Jack’s Dtis2’, the book I mentioned at the start of this post; I gave it a ‘soft release’ in March, (with a pre-order by invitation only) followed by an ongoing, promotional program targeted directly at my market segment. The book is still selling in good numbers a year later, and shows no signs of slowing down.

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Feel free to browse this site, there are a plethora of posts written for writers and authors of all experiences, and abilities.

I am open to comments and am happy to answer your questions on any aspect of ‘Being Indie’.

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Time, stimulus and unanticipated events

It seems I no longer have enough time to regularly write this blog. This post explains the reason, or at least one of them.

Most of you will know, at least I hope you do, I love it when random things appear to me and stimulate my writers muse.

Often the best thoughts and ideas come from the unexpected, the surprises and unanticipated events.

I either scribble down notes or mull over whatever stimulated my mind and write my thoughts at a latter date.

I shall return to those notes. Many will become the basis of a short story, often one idea can give birth to a succession of tales, often of various genre, and with seemingly little or no relation to each other.

These stimuli may a form the premise of a novel, or a component of one. Some may suggest the possibility of a non-fictional work.

Now, these unanticipated events, the ones which ‘blow my frock up’, are as unpredictable as the English weather.

One may come from overhearing a private conversation, another from observation, yet another from an article or interview broadcast on the radio and, of course, there is a wealth of written material, both online and physical.

The joy is, one can never know what it is that will prompt the mind, set your thoughts into an overdrive mode, or, indeed, when such an event will occur.

Today, an hour or so before writing this post, I stumbled across something of the ilk.

I was browsing a section of the web, with a vague notion of the sort of thing I was looking for.

By that I mean, it was the start of a research period and I was casting my net wide before knowing where to hone in on the specifics, when I read the following short, but intriguing article regarding an important area of English politics.

Now, that may sound a bit dull to you, but trust me, read this article from ‘The Guardian‘ newspaper. I am sure you will then understand how many stories you could create… and that does not include the ideas you can develop from ‘clicking‘ on and reading the information found by following the contained hyperlinks.

This is one reason I need to live to be one hundred and forty million years old, then, possibly, I would have enough time to write all I wish, including regularly posting here.

Have a read, tell me what you think.

Keep happy, Paul.

https://www.msn.com/en-gb/news/other/it-s-true-we-ignore-parts-of-our-history-and-not-just-about-our-colonial-past/ar-BB1aAhCV?ocid=msedgntpand

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Dear Diary… 2020

Before I start, this post was not wholly my idea.

This post is vaguely in the form of a diary which looks back on 2020. It is an amalgamation of pieces taken from other blogs, social posts and such, with a snippet or two of my own observations mixed in for good measure.

This is my disclaimer… as such, the following is far from my usual form of ‘Posting’. The following is purely for entertainment purposes, the expressed views herewith in are not necessarily those of the author.

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January.

Australia caught on fire.

I am unsure if the fire was extinguished, it may still be smouldering away.

The reason I don’t know, is because the media circus had not finished talking about those fires when their attention was distracted as we came to the brink of war with Iran. The [British] Foreign Office warns British nationals against all but essential travel to Iran and Iraq, following a US airstrike in Baghdad the previous day, in which Iranian general Qasem Soleimani was killed.

We may still be ‘almost at war’ with them but the reporting stopped in favour of telling us about Jen Aniston and Brad Pitt, who, it seems, spoke to one another at an awards show and everyone flipped the crap out.

Men can walk safely on the streets once again as Reynhard Sinaga, described as “the most prolific rapist in British legal history”, is sentenced to life in prison after being found guilty of raping or sexually assaulting 48 men in Manchester. Police believe he may have been responsible for assaulting a total of nearly 200 victims.

This almost coincided with the ‘Big Brother‘ Police announcement that live facial recognition technology will be rolled out across London.

Then there was this thing happening in China. Something to do with wet meat or bats or such.

But again, the press became distracted after Prince Harry and a girl called Megan decided to “step back as senior members” the Royal family. At the same time, something was going on in the USA about impeachment. It seems that is a thing, who knew… who knows?

Then this Chinese thing (they decided to term it as a Coronavirus), it showed up in the USA “officially,” and the media got all excited… but then Kobe Bryant died, seems people in America knew who he was and it upset them so the media spent their time dredging up every bit of nonsensicle information about him, non-stop, 24/7.

In the UK, now with Boris at the helm, we finally managed to kick all the shit shifters, the self-opinionated, egotistical, communistic national-party fascists out of parliament, so the government could honour the people’s wishes from the referendum and get Great Britain out of the diabolical farce they call the European Union.

February. 

Iowa crapped itself with the caucus results and the president was acquitted (from that impeachment I mentioned last month) and the Speaker of the House took ten-whole-years to rip up a speech.

Then ‘The WHO’, That’s not the band or the doctor, but the ‘World Health (dis)Organisation’, gave the Chinese virus a name, they called it, in a most scientifically creative way, COVID19, which confused some really important people in charge of our lives as they thought that meant there were 18 other versions before this one. But all it means is CoronaVirusDisease of 2019, which, when contracted comes out as ‘Covid19’.

Then some bloke called Harvey Weinstein was found guilty. Many Americans started asking if Corona beer was safe to drink, and everyone on Facebook became doctors and viral experts overnight. They then informed us that regular flu generally killed more people each year than all the COVIDs which had come before. You know, all those non-existent COVID numbers, 1 to 18.

So, clearly there was little to be concerened about… unless you are a conspiracist. Then you better watch your back because… if they are really after you, you are not paranoid.

The first British death from Covid19 is confirmed by the Japanese Health Ministry; it is a man in quarantin on the Diamond Princess cruise ship, anchored off Japan.

The first death from coronavirus in the UK was confirmed this month, as the number of cases exceeded 100, with a total of 115 having tested positive. England’s Chief Medical Officer, Chris Whitty, tells MPs the UK has moved to the second stage of dealing with COVID-19 – from “containment” to the “delay” phase.

 

March.

This is when the shit hit the fan big time.

A chap named Warren dropped out of the American presidential race and Sanders was like Bernie or bust.

Then, just as things were getting fruity, Italy shut its whole country down and this COVID19 thing was no longer considered confined but officially recognised as a Pandemic. (A Pandemic is when lots of people start dropping dead all over the place and no one can stop it happening in a hurry.)

So, a nationwide state of emergency was declared in many countries like the USA and Great Britain and the other bit, that um, whatsit… oh, yes the European Union thingy and people were told to go home and stay there, not to come out until you were at least eighty years old.

In some countries they added to their death toll by shooting anyone not at home.

But it didn’t change anything. Everyone was confused about what it was or what to do about it. Many people thought it was just a bad dose off the flu. So, everyone went shopping to buy toilet rolls, flour, yeast, Spanish olive oil and gummy bears, all the essentials for surviving the apocalypse.

Without getting all the attention it needed, COVID19 got ‘a bit’ upset, thinking we were not taking it seriously and started to infect the celebrities everyone likes, as it did with Tom Hanks.

That got it some attention from the news stations, who ran the story on each news broadcast, and all the people, who were now sitting at home watching thier screens, began to believe what they saw and hear on television, so they got frightened.

NHS Nightingale Hospital London, the first temporary critical care hospital to treat COVID-19 patients, opened in the ExCel Centre in East London, employing NHS staff and military personnel, with a bed capacity of up to 4,000. It was the first of several temporary critical care hospitals across the UK

Reacting to this, the Governments closed all the schools, hairdressers, bars and restaurants, so no one can learn anything or get their hair cut or have a beer with their frends… or their nails buffed and polished.

Then everyone had to work from home and attend Zoom meetings naked, wearing skimpy underwear or stained onesies.

The Stock markets bottoms fell out. (Out of where I’m not certain.)

Although, to be honest, most of us don’t understand why the stock market is so important or even a thing anyway.

I mean whose money is it anyway, where does it go, who do we owe it too, and where did they get it in the first place, oh, and how come there’s more money being made every year and when there’s not we’ve lost it? Is there a giant sofa with a ton of loose change behind the seats? Has anyone tried looking there?

There are just so many questions…

Anyway, while sitting around at home naked or squirming around in ragged onesies with your arse hanging out, we all got to meet a chap called Tiger King, thankfully only on our televisions. I’m guessing he’s the type of chap you would never take him home to meet your parents… Hmmph. Less said about that the better.

The ONE thing most can all agree on this year, Carol totally killed her husband… whacked him, and then Netflix was like you’re welcome, and we all realised there was no way we were washing our hands enough in the first place because all of our hands are now dry and gross and were all searching for lotion.

 

April.

Bernie finally busted himself out of the American presidential race just as New York City became the perfect setting for The Walking Dead.

We also learned no one who needed them had any face masks, ventilators, or toilet paper.

Around this time, most people’s natural hair colour, including a great deal of grey, was showing above their root line and sales of home hair dye and other unessesary chemicals took off.

Oh, and Kim Jong – Un died, but then he came back to life… or did he? Is anyone really sure?

Who knows, because then, the Pentagon released videos of UFOs and really nobody gave a shiny shite about a fat man with a strange haircut after that.

 

May.

Like at the predicted end of the world in the bible with the historical locust swarms, we learned of marauding murder hornets… and it dawned on us 2020 was probably the start the real-life Hunger Games, however, people must have forgoten to let us know it was starting.

In some places, people started to protest lockdown measures with AR-15s.

Sports events were cancelled everywhere. Theatres closed, both stage and movie. Aircraft stopped flying, ships and boats reduced their passage.

Basically the whole world shut down, which was a godsend for the wildlife, the sea and the atmosphere. Never in living memory has the air been cleaner, the skies bluer, the animals and birds more prevalent.

Then, people all over America finally reached a breaking point with race issues and violence. There were protests in every city, which was confusing to some because people were gathering in crowds standing a lot closer than 2 meters apart. Those people must have forgotten about the pandemic called COVID19 I guess?

The media struggled with how to focus on more than two things at once, while people, in general struggle to focus on more than anything more than that which was being dangled in front of their nose at the time.

A dead whale was found in the middle of the Amazon rain forest. Monkeys stole COVID samples from a lab and ran off with them.

All the while our astrologers were shitting their collective knickers, as a giant asteroid narrowly missed the Earth.

I think it swerved to avoid the Covid19 monster personally.

 

June.

Common was cast from the window, somehow wearing facemasks became a political thing.

Then everyone remembered the pandemic, just as scientists announced they found a mysterious undiscovered mass at the centre of the earth, and everyone cried out “DON’T YOU TOUCH IT”.

However, after a deep breath, everyone realised people believed ‘Gone with the Wind’. They thought the film was like non-fiction too.

Then they announced of a strange radio signal from somewhere out in the universe which repeats itself every so many days… then everyone cried “DON’T YOU ATTEMPT TO COMMUNICATE WITH IT”.

In the UK, Jonty Bravery, an 18 year old, is jailed for 15 years after throwing a six-year-old boy off a 200 ft balcony at London’s Tate Modern gallery, leaving him with a bleed to the brain and life-changing injuries.

America decided to reopen from the shutdown that wasn’t ever a shutdown… and, so far, things have gone spectacularly well… well, no, they haven’t to be honest, they are not doing very well at all. 

The UK experiences its hottest day of the year so far, with temperatures reaching as high as 33.3 °C (92 °F) and hords of brain dead twats swarmed the beaches and spread the virus amongst themselves… the effects are yet to materialise, it takes a few weeks… 

Then, like a mass birth of rabid raptors, all the Karen’s came out and started tearing down statues of long-dead people, people who no one knew or remembered… until that point.

Whatever happens, history cannot be changed. Something so few seem to comprehend.

Everyone is then on Facebook, arguing about masks. are they effective… well no… not if you dump your discarded masks and gloves in supermarket carts, baskets and scatter them across countless car parks, they just hold and harbour the virus carrying further afield.

Mind you, I have said for years many people should have their heads entirely covered in public places anyway,  generally to reduce mass nausea. (I guess that’s another story though?)

Then we learned of a massive dust cloud coming at us directly from the Sahara Desert, which is fairly normal, but this is 2020, so the Ghost of the Mummy and the Scorpian King is most likely lurking in that dust.

One bright note is the Congo’s worst-ever Ebola outbreak is over… what do you mean, what Ebola outbreak… where have you been this year? Have you been distracted?

We have also discovered FLYING SNAKES, yes, seriously. FLYING SNAKES. And what about the 200,000-duck army China is sending to Pakistan to help with the locusts… yep, that’s the truth.

 

So, we get to this month, July….

Some people, at this point, think we are over it. Of course, they are wrong, very, very, wrong.

This is just the beginning.

Not allowing for what additions are next. like Aliens, Zeus, more Asteroids, Artificial Intelligence becoming self-aware… (Skynet?).

Oh, joy… Live long and prosper.

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Within the Invisible Pentacle is available from Amazon UK

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And from Amazon

USA

https://www.amazon.com/Within-Invisible-Pentacle-Paul-White/dp/1720987653/ 

These stories vary widely; some will make you laugh aloud, or nod in agreement. Others will make you shiver with apprehension, while a few might bring tears to your eyes.

The prevailing factor is, they are written with consideration for our fragile human disposition, the fears, the dreams and wishes, the uncertainties and self-doubts we all carry inside ourselves, the human element of love, of life and of survival.

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Unconnected connections of habit.

I recall reading Roald Dahl’s ‘Georges Marvellous Medicine’ to my son when he was a child. One phrase I found particularly hilarious was when George’s grandmother said, “Growing was a nasty childish habit.”

I’ll give you a short extract for context.

“You know what’s the matter with you?” the old woman said, staring at George over the rim of the teacup with those bright wicked little eyes. “You’re growing too fast. Boys who grow too fast become stupid and lazy.”

“But I can’t help it if I am growing fast, Grandma,” George said.

“Of course, you can,” she snapped. “Growing’s a nasty childish habit.”

As it happens, in the ensuing years I found my son adopted other ‘nasty childish habits’ growing boys seem to enjoy. I mentioned most of them to him in much the same way as George’s grandmother, not that it had any effect!

However, it is not childhood, growth, or adolescence peccadillos I speak of today, but one of habits.

You see, like many other authors, my mind is constantly working overtime. Even when I am ignoring it, doing regular stuff like cleaning, gardening, or shopping, it is whirring away noticing things, listening to other people’s conversations, reading notes, lists, and phone screens (over people’s shoulders), and so forth.

It really is a bit of a rouge in many ways.

The thing is, those subconscious bits of my mind remember it all, record it, and mull it over, twisting totally unrelated events, jiggling individual occurrences, shaking them together until a kaleidoscope pattern of instances that hold the possibility of illusory whimsy forms.

This is when it digs a sharp elbow of attention into the soft kidneys of my platitude, painfully jerking my ‘normal’ daily thoughts away from the mundane and into the imaginative world of fantastical conception.

Last night, as I was going to bed, I felt the aforesaid sharp elbow ram painfully into the soft parts of my consciousness.

A voice in my head spoke excitedly to me.

“You know,” it started, “you write a fair bit about remembering the past, about nostalgia and stuff?”

“Um, yes,” I said, not sure where this was leading.

“Well, what about if people get all nostalgic because they survived it?”

“Survived it?” I questioned.

“Yeah.” The voice was shouting in my brain. “Think about it.”

“I’m going to bed,” I said. Trying to placate my thoughts.

“Yeah, but you’ll not sleep, not until you understand this.” The voice said, sounding a little annoyed and more than a little bit smug.

Of course, it was right. I needed to do this now, as tired I was. So, I grabbed a notebook and pen. (I have several dotted around the house exactly for moments like this.)

“Okay,” I said, “fire away.”

“How about if… people love the past, the recent past, like the times in and around their childhood because they lived through it, or most of it. They survived relatively unharmed. Well, they must have done, or they wouldn’t be here now, would they?”

“Um, no,” I replied, “I suppose not.”

“So, just like in a good book, or a movie, where the hero rides off into the sunset at the end, that’s what you have done, along with everybody else who reminisces. You rode off into your sunset to arrive in the here and now.”

“Well, maybe, sort of.”

“I’m right. The past is where your parents were. They helped keep you safe, mended your cuts and bruises, kissed your grazed knees. It was home, comforting, warm. Your bedroom, your inner sanctuary, guarded by your parents.”

“I guess so.” I was chewing my inner lip. Something I rarely do. “But not all memories are good ones, bad things happened too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” my mind said, “I’m not talking about those bits. No one gets all sentimental over the bad stuff. We remember it when we must, but not in a nostalgic way. Nostalgia is reserved for nice memories.”

“I’ll go with that,” I said, nodding to myself.

“Well, that’s the key,” my mind continued.

“The key to what?” I asked.

“The key to writing something captivating in your books, especially when you’re basing them in the past, or have characters talking about ‘back when’ & ‘do you remember’ and stuff. It’s great for flashbacks, prequels, and stuff like that. Think about it.”

I was thinking about it.

“Even a futuristic story must have its past.”

I scribbled a few rough notes, odd aide memoir single word notes I could refer to later. (That later being now).

The thing is, after a good night’s sleep, a day carrying out family chores, and a visit to the dentist for a clean & polish, I have mulled over my conversation with the excitable voice from last night, and my conclusion is… I agree.

It makes a ton of sense for us to hold fond memories of good times. They could well be recollections of childhood events, maybe a loving mother tucking you into bed, possibly escaping an annoyed farmer while scrumping for apples, or like some of the memories I have written about previously, such as days out for a family a picnic, or a train journey to the seaside; all exciting experiences for a child.

My teenage years hold more life events that have helped forge who I am today. Don’t get me wrong, I have instances of near-death, but… I survived to tell the tale. I did ride off into my sunset… although some moments may be more akin to crawling along a drainage ditch in inch thick cloying mud… but those tales are for another time.

It’s called living life.

As an author, I feed on such memories, use them to build my fictional worlds, create my characters, lay plots, and write scenes. It is a habit I’ve adopted.

Until now, until the conversation with myself, I did not consider why nostalgia, which is according to the dictionary, ‘A sentimental longing, or wistful affection, for a period in the past; even one never experienced,’ is such a powerful apparatus to use to elicit emotion.

Now, I have spent time complementing the reasons, it makes perfect sense, and one I shall be far more aware of when employing it in my writings in the future.

So, while scrumping for apples, and reading George’s Marvellous Medicine may be unconnected events, both in time and geographical distance, the voice in my head found a way to join them together into a cohesive entity.

You could say they were unconnected connections of habit.

Keep Happy, Paul

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I would love you to check out my books, you can see them all on my website, even those not available on Amazon, including exclusive hardcovers.

Don’t forget to look at my Electric Eclectic books, eBooks and Pocketbook paperbacks. You can find them on my website 

I am open to comments and communication, so feel free to contact me at pwauthor@mail.com or via Facebook.