I’ve been so busy recovering from the holidays, working on novels, and teaching English to Chinese children via video, I haven’t had much time to create new content for my blog. It’s kind of like how a lot of you have been so busy doing all the things you do, you haven’t had time to read all of my books. So I figured I’d do us both a favor and create a blog post featuring the best bits from my three novels. This way, I get content to fill this space, and you get some of the greatest lines of neo-noir fiction ever written by anyone named Greg Levin.
Now I know what you’re all thinking: “Greg, that isn’t fair to you—it’s not an even trade, you deserve more!” Folks, please, don’t worry about it. It’s my pleasure to share my work.
Okay, fine, if you absolutely insist on not taking advantage of me, I guess you could purchase one of my novels. Actually, you couldn’t pick a better time do so—because for the first time EVER, ALL of my novels are available for JUST 99 CENTS! (Kindle version only.)
Never before haveIn Wolves’ Clothing,Sick to Death, andThe Exit Maneach been priced at under a buck at the same time. So why now, you ask? Because never before have I overestimated my net worth by so much or overspent so badly during the holidays—thus, I need to do everything I can to bring in some extra cash without having to endure the pain and inconvenience of getting a better-paying job or making any real sacrifices.
To help you decide which of my ridiculously low-priced novels you’d like to buy (or gift to a friend), have a look at the rest of this post. Below you’ll find a brief description of each novel, along with what I and three of my five fans believe to be the best lines from each book, as well as praise from renowned writers/reviewers I didn’t even have to bribe.
(Note: Click on any of the red title links above or below to be brought to the Amazon Kindle page for that book. Have I mentioned each book is currently just $0.99!? )
On his best days, Zero Slade is the worst man you can imagine.
After seven years on a team fighting international sex trafficking,
Zero's quite good at schmoozing with pimps, getting handcuffed by cops,
and pretending not to care about the young girls he liberates. But the
dangerous sting operations are starting to take a toll on his
marriage and health. Not to mention his sanity.
Some "killer" lines from IN WOLVES' CLOTHING:
“There’s nothing better than being the bad guy. Long enough to do some good.”
“I tell him I’ll be back to my old self once we’re getting handcuffed in Phnom Penh.”
“I can’t remember if I took an oxy during the flight, so I eat two. They pair nicely with the scotch. It’s good to be home.”
“That’s one of the drawbacks of good narcotics—they often cause you to say cheerful things.”
“Appear too confident and comfortable, and your cover is blown. You are a perverted coward with no shred of decency, so for God’s sake act like it.”
“To get into character, think about the biggest douchebag frat guy you’ve ever met, imagine him with several million dollars, multiply his money and demeanor by ten, and then act like that guy. Right up until the cops remove your handcuffs and thank you.”
“Before I joined Operation Emancipation, I was just like the dozens of people fuming at Gate A-11 right now. Flight delays would ruin my day. Now? Now I can smile and whistle while walking through a pediatric cancer ward.”
“Whenever out with others, I can do pleasant. I can do content. I’m even able to muster empathy and interest on occasion. It’s not as easy as doing conniving, creepy, sleazy and sinister, but sometimes you just have to leave work at the office.”
“Barrett and Malik just arrived. A former Navy Seal and recovering coke addict, and a former Secret Service agent who got fired for punching a senator in the throat. Finally, some people I can relate to.”
“Maybe Caleb really is the bright and shining star Fynn has described. Maybe he’s self-actualized and stable and moral. Maybe he’s undamaged goods. If so, he’ll never fit in.”
“Human trafficking has a tremendous future. Even brighter than drug trafficking. It’s why many big-time dealers are diversifying—dipping their toes into the sex trade.”
“The reaction I’m looking out for is anger, which is the natural reaction and thus unacceptable. I’m also looking out for sadness, especially tears. Tears are completely normal. This job is not.”
“It’s more serious than I suspected. Caleb isn’t an alcoholic or a drug addict or suffering from PTSD. He isn’t depressed or bipolar or a masochist. He’s a Buddhist. I can overlook a lot of shit in a Jump Team member, but total enlightenment is where I have to draw the line.”
“And here I am, toasting a silver and sapphire blue ceramic container, trusting that the Eden Funeral Home got things right. That there were no mix-ups in the crematorium. I don’t like drinking with strangers.”
Praise for IN WOLVES' CLOTHING
“Levin movingly conveys the horrors of child sex trafficking in this effective thriller. He provides a window into one of the world's darkest underbellies, while somehow managing to insert appropriate lighter moments. This author deserves a wide audience.” —Publishers Weekly
“A riveting, fast-paced thriller. In Wolves' Clothing is an immensely satisfying read by an author with a genuine flair for originality and narrative-driven action. Unabashedly recommended.” —Midwest Book Review
“I highly recommend In Wolves' Clothing to those who love dark crime fiction and thrillers, as well as edgy literary and transgressive fiction— especially Chuck Palahniuk fans.” Lauren Sapala, author of Between the Shadow and Lo and The INFJ Writer
“Truly original and enthralling. Levin's blazing prose and acerbic wit capture the madness and the humanity of working undercover in the darkest corners.” —Radd Berrett, former Jump Team member, Operation Underground Railroad
“A sharp novel, both in action and in style, with fabulous dialogue and a flawed hero you'll love.” —Olga Núñez Miret, Rosie's Book Review Team
“There’s no escaping the adrenaline-packed punch of emotions that conclude with a thrilling ending. An unforgettable novel.” —Paul Falk, NetGalley reviewer
When Gage Adder finds out he has inoperable cancer,
things really start to look up for him. He leaves his
soul-crushing job, joins a nice terminal illness support group,
and takes up an exciting new hobby: serial killing.
Some "killer" lines from SICK TO DEATH:
“Over the previous six months, there was only one thing Gage had become more efficient at than killing… and that was dying.”
“Gage had never cared much for dark comic books. He was simply becoming the main character in one.”
“He never praised me whenever I’d hit a home run in little league, but I kill a few people and all of the sudden I’m his idol.”
“That’s the problem. They potentially have decades and decades ahead of them. A long and bright future. Too much life is getting in the way.”
“It was like picking teams for kickball at recess, only there were three team captains instead of two doing the picking. And getting picked meant you’d soon be dead.”
“Dying was the least of Gage’s problems.”
“Prison? You’re worried about prison? You’re already on death row, my friend.”
“It’s best to discuss mass murder behind closed doors, and Jenna lived the closest.”
“Learning he might not be dying really threw a wrench into Gage’s plans. He didn’t see how he could go on killing if there was a chance he’d go on living.”
“The problem with celebrating a birthday in a hospice center is all the oxygen.”
“Sitting in a hospice room staring at three uncommon zombies, the sickly triplets behind the most popular murder spree of the century.”
“That’s one way to lose your religion. Watching your deity vomit next to some road kill.”
"We’d be dead. Big deal. Death’s not such a long drop these days. Not for us."
Praise for SICK TO DEATH
“A tour de force dark comedy.”—Craig Clevenger, author of cult classics The Contortionist's Handbook and Dermaphoria
“A satirical thriller that says serious things as well as telling a stonking story. It'll appeal to readers who enjoy Dexter's adventures. For me, it ranks alongside Josh Bazell's Beat The Reaper.”—Rowena Hoseason of Murder, Mayhem & More
“Uniquely entertaining and captivating. Levin's prose is playful yet ominous, and the negotiation of this unique spectrum produces some truly great dialog and passages. He takes this story in bold directions that keep the pages turning. Definitely worth checking out!” —Bryce Allen, author of The Spartak Trigger and Idol Threat
“Darkly funny, with literary undertones. Look past the sharp wit and clever turns of phrase to find a novel that speaks to man's purpose in life, escalated by his impending death. When the third act begins to spin out of control, the author clinches it with a clever twist that leaves a very satisfying ending. I'd highly recommend this book to anyone ... except maybe the terminally ill.”—Scott Kelly, author of [sic] and the Keep the Ghost Trilogy
“Greg Levin has done it again with Sick to Death. As in his previous books, Levin weaves dark humor and a human touch into every chapter of this transgressive tale. Highly recommended.”—J.R. Hardenburgh, hard-to-please reader
Suicide should come with a warning label: “Do not try this alone.”
Eli Edelmann never intended on taking over his father's party supply store.
Nor did he ever intend on making a living through mercy killing.
But life doesn't always go according to plan.
Some "killer" lines from THE EXIT MAN:
“I wasn't some monster looking to feast on the weaknesses of salvageable souls. I saw myself as a noble purveyor, a humanist catering to the completely vanquished.”
“I was an equal opportunity executioner.”
“After a year or so of helping people die, I was really starting to reach my full potential.”
“The weekend had been interesting and eventful, but it was time for me to return to my normal life of selling party supplies and lining up suicides.”
“It’s hard enough meeting someone you find beguiling enough to want their contact information. Start nitpicking about a few past indiscretions or a police record and you’ll end up dying sad and alone.”
“A team was forming. And what a pair we were. Collectively we represented multiple consecutive life sentences—me for my illicit side job; her for a single mistake.”
“You get used to offering condolences and shaking hands with family members of the person you helped put in the casket or urn before you.”
“It wasn’t enough sneaking around helping sick people disguise their suicide as natural death. I needed some excitement in my life.”
“She had become an integral part of my life—just not the part with all the death.”
“There’s nothing quite like a perfectly executed suicide to get you feeling right again.”
Praise for THE EXIT MAN
“The sharpest, funniest voice in U.S. literature since Carl Hiaasen. Greg Levin's second novel is a corker.”—If These Books Could Talk
“Imagination-capturing and fresh. I highly recommend reading The Exit Man, but strongly advise: Do not try this at home!” —TNT Reviews
"The Exit Man is black humor at its best. If you like dark humor, buy it now." —D.E. Haggerty, author of Life Discarded and Buried Appearances
“A surprisingly delightful and exciting read. Levin’s deft wrangling of the language lifts the subject matter from macabre to entertaining, from WTF to LOL, from “you’ve got to be kidding me” to “I’m sticking around for the ride.”—Michael Smart, author of the Dead Reckoning, Deadeye, and Deadlight
“Smart dark humor wrapped in an inventive story. Levin handles the topic of assisted suicide with respect while busting conventional thinking with clever humor and quirky characterization. A unique, inventive, and well-written novel.” —Lisa Haneberg, author of the Spy Shop Mysteries
Thank you very much for stopping by. I’m truly humbled by you letting me show you how amazing my books are. Don’t forget to take advantage of the very limited time offer—just 99 cents for each of my three novels! Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.
DO IT!
(For those of you in the UK, you can take advantage of the book sale by clicking here.)
Oh, and tune in next time, when I (expect to) share some exciting news about my upcoming novel, INTO A CORNER.
I know what you’re all thinking: “Really, Greg, you’re going to co-opt a beloved Christmas song and turn it into an anthem that celebrates criminal activity—all just to help promote the types of books you write?”
In my defense, YES.
Okay, maybe not all of you are thinking what I’ve assumed above. My parents, for instance, are probably thinking, “Greg, what the hell are you even doing with a beloved Christmas song? We’re Jewish!”
I guess the point I’m trying to make is, enjoy!
Here’s my version of The Twelve Days of Christmas—with a heavy twist of crime fiction added in for good measure:
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
An hour every day to just read.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Seven villains killing
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Eight perps escaping
Seven villains killing
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Nine narrators lying
Eight perps escaping
Seven villains killing
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Ten gangs uniting
Nine narrators lying
Eight perps escaping
Seven villains killing
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Eleven PIs peeping
Ten gangs uniting
Nine narrators lying
Eight perps escaping
Seven villains killing
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Twelve cases closing
Eleven PIs peeping
Ten gangs uniting
Nine narrators lying
Eight perps escaping
Seven villains killing
Six snitches snitching
Fiiiiive anti-heroes
Four red herrings
Three dead bodies
Two alibis
And an hour every day to just read!!!
There, see—that wasn’t so bad or disrespectful or inappropriate or sacrilegious or blasphemous, right?
My novels explore some really dark stuff. Stuff like terminal illness, voluntary euthanasia, serial killing, sex trafficking, drug addiction, dementia. Yes, I have sought professional help. No, it hasn't stopped me from tackling such grim topics. And here’s the thing: When reviewing a novel of mine—whether the book is about a terminally ill man who kills people, or about a man who kills terminally ill people, or about a man who pretends to be a pedophile to catch sex traffickers—most readers mention they found the book funny. Many say they laughed a lot. Some say they peed a little.
Those of you who’ve never read any of my books (and I know who you are—I’m making a list, checking it twice) may be thinking, “What kind of sociopath writes books that make light of such horrific topics and issues? And what kind of sociopaths read such books and laugh enough to need an adult diaper?”
First of all, go easy on my readers—they’re good people. Secondly, allow me to explain:
I don’t make light of people dying or killing. I don’t make light of cancer or the people suffering from it. I don’t make light of sex trafficking or drug addiction or dementia. What I do (or try to, at least) is show how humans—when stuck in the darkest of spaces—will scratch and claw at the walls until even the tiniest speck of light breaks through. Humor is a natural survival mechanism, sonaturally I try to weave some into books about people facing serious adversity. My aim isn't for readers to laugh at the darkness but rather to laugh in it. I never try to force “the funny” (like I sometimes do on my blog or when trying to embarrass my daughter in public). Instead I try to use the funny to appropriately juxtapose the frightening and the fierce.
If you were to ask me what I’m most proud of in my writing career, I’d make no mention of awards or Hollywood options or major book deals (especially not that last one, since I’ve never had a major book deal.) What I’m most proud of are the times when readers—particularly those who’ve personally experienced the same/similar tragedy or peril featured in a book of mine—reach out to say they appreciated how the book’s humor elevated the story rather than detracted from it. How it elicited laughter without disrespecting the dire straits the characters faced. As a writer, there’s only one thing more rewarding than hearing that a reader “got” exactly what you were going for: Hearing that what you were going for made a lasting impact on a reader and helped to ease their suffering, relieve their grief, make their day (or even just their hour or minute).
That’s what novels by the likes of Chuck Palahniuk, Kurt Vonnegut, Elmore Leonard and Sara Gran do for me. Such books break my heart while making me bust a gut. They show humanity at its worst yet somehow manage to restore my faith in it. They cause me to cringe and clench and cheer and laugh in equal measure. A few other authors who effectively pepper their powerful, gritty fiction with humor are Joe Clifford, Rachel Howzell Hall, Nico Walker, and Will Christopher Baer.
If you look at the reviews for any of my novels, you’ll see plenty of readers starting off with something like, “I didn’t know what the hell I was getting myself into with this book” or “I was a little nervous about cracking this one open,” but what soon follows is usually something like, “I couldn’t believe I was laughing along with and rooting for these characters” or “Hilarious and delightful, though also heart-wrenching.” (For a perfect example of such a review, click HERE.)
I love receiving reviews like those. Not because they’re positive and full of praise (though sure, that’s nice, too); rather because I love it when readers take a chance on books with topics that worry or rattle or frighten them—books they fear may cross the line or trigger painful emotions or memories. And I love it even more when those readers, after diving into such books, walk away rewarded for their risk—feeling not only entertained but also touched and moved. Perhaps even inspired.
Just like how I feel every time I discover a novel that dares to laugh in the dark.
How about you? Have you ever bought or borrowed a book you thought might scar you for life but that ended up moving you to tears and laughter? I’d love to hear about it—please share in the comments section below.
I don’t know what's gotten into me lately. Something's wrong—I’ve been experiencing an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Sure, there are worse things than gratitude to come along and suddenly start ruling your life, but for someone who’s been sarcastic and cynical and annoying since birth, becoming immensely grateful out of the blue can be a real shock to the system.
Imagine waking up one morning and instead of your first thought being, “I wonder how the universe is going to punk me today” or “People who change lanes without signaling should be executed,” it’s more along the lines of “Being alive is a wondrous gift!” or “Hugs aren’t so bad!” Honestly, I don’t even know who I am anymore. Oddly enough, my family and friends hope my existential crisis continues.
Maybe it's because Thanksgiving's right around the corner. Maybe it’s the meditation I’ve been doing daily. Or my long walks through the woods behind my house. Or the strange magical powder made from a Southeast Asian plant I recently started ingesting to help with my anxiety. (Don’t worry, it’s legal—the powder I mean, not my anxiety.) All I know for sure is I’m more grateful than ever.
While I hope this whole gratitude thing doesn’t hinder my ability to write dark, disturbing novels, I can't help but mention the people and things I'm most grateful for with regard to my fictional—er, I mean fiction—career.
Readers/followers/subscribers. People have extremely busy lives. There are so many other things they must do and could be doing that don’t involve reading a single word I write. So whenever someone lets me in—even if it’s through the tiniest sliver and for only a few minutes here and there, I don’t take it for granted.
I realize “readers/followers/subscribers” is a bit of a clunky term to be used by someone who is supposed to be good with words, but I’m not yet comfortable using the term “fans”—mainly because I once used that term when referring to a friend who has read all my books, and she said, “Fan? Don’t get carried away, Greg.” I’m actually glad she said it. I am. No, really, I’m grateful to her for keeping my ego in check, even if I’ve yet to fully recover from that crushing blow.
My Launch Team. For those of you who don’t know what a launch team is, you must not love my writing enough to be on mine. A launch team is a group of people who not only enjoy reading an author’s work, they're also are eager to help spread the word about each new book that author puts out so that many other people can enjoy reading the author’s work. And man, I can’t tell you how grateful I am to the dozens of people on my Launch Team. I’m especially grateful that none of them jumped ship when I ended up not launching my upcoming novel (Into a Corner) when I said I was going to—even though many of them had already taken the time to read an advanced reader copy (ARC) of the book and prepared an early review to help build buzz around it.
As somebody with minimal patience, I don’t deserve much of it in return. So, to each member of my Launch Team (and you know who you are, seeing as how you’ve received plenty of weird emails from me in recent months)—a huge THANK YOU for all of your continued support, encouragement, and enthusiasm around my writing efforts. And don’t worry, Into a Corner will (almost) definitely be published in 2020. (2021 at the latest.)
Kind, generous colleagues in the writing community.Emphasis on “community.” This year—more than any other in my writing career—I’ve had the great privilege of meeting and gaining invaluable insight and support from a whole host of authors who write the same kinds of books I write but who have sold many more copies. Some of these authors I’ve met only virtually; others in person. All of them, however, have been extremely generous with their time and, more importantly, their assistance in putting me on a path toward literary fame and fortune. (Mind you, it’s a long and crooked path inhabited by giant scorpions, plus I keep misplacing my compass.)
The internet. I met my wife through it. I found my cats through it. Most importantly, I learned the absolute best way to dispose of a dead body through it.
As instrumental as the internet has been in my real life, it’s been positively indispensable to me with regard to my writing life. Were it not for the worldwide web and its dark second cousins, I wouldn’t have a fraction of the readers/followers/subscribers I have, wouldn’t be able to work in just my underwear most days, and wouldn’t be a subject matter expert on such fun topics as euthanasia, sex trafficking, poison, or minimizing your carbon footprint when you murder someone. It has truly made me a better person.
My agent (on the TV side). I still don’t really know how I lucked into getting a TV/film agent at CAA a few years ago, but I’m not here to over-think things—I’m here to express how freakin’ grateful I am that my agent’s on the brink of sealing yet another option deal with a major TV studio/network for my novel The Exit Man. (Sorry, can’t disclose the studio’s name yet.) I’ve been here before—with HBO in 2015, and with Showtime in 2017—unfortunately neither of those option deals resulted in a TV show. Here’s hoping the third time’s a charm. Regardless, it’s an absolute honor just to have one of my books be in the position for a TV adaptation to happen.
(Some of you may have noticed I didn’t mention my literary agent here. It’s not because I’m ungrateful to my literary agent; it’s because I don’t have one. Yet. Working on it, and it’s not as easy as you might think. Well, either that, or my books aren’t good enough for NYC despite being good enough for Hollywood—which is sort of the writing-world equivalent of telling an actor they have a face for radio.)
My physical and mental health. Not a day goes by where I don’t thank my brain and body for continuing to allow me to write novels. You’d be surprised how taxing it can be to sit on your ass and make stuff up. Seriously, it takes a lot of back and wrist and finger muscles to keep words flowing onto a screen day after day for hours on end. And it takes a lot of brain muscles to ensure that the words flowing onto the screen make some semblance of sense and tell a story that doesn’t suck. Oh, and don’t even get me started on how many heart and mind and gut muscles it takes to deal with all the rejection and sales slumps—not to mention all the demands of imaginary people.
So yeah, I’m super-grateful for my physical and mental/emotional) health. That’s why I exercise and meditate every day, and why I limit my use of alcohol and drugs to when I’m awake.
My wife and daughter’s support and patience.This isn’t the first time I’ve used this blog to express how grateful I am to my wife and daughter for not having left me or murdered me or worse. And it won’t be the last, as I would very much like to stay married and loved and alive. Living with any fiction writer isn’t easy. Living with an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person) fiction writer like me is next to impossible. (“Would you people three rooms over please stop breathing so much—I’m trying to write a novel in here!”) Think I’m exaggerating? I once yelled at my daughter for feeding the cats too loudly while I was busy trying to dispose of an imaginary body.
The hell that writers like me put our characters through is a warm bubble bath compared to the hell we put our loved ones through. Because the hell we put our loved ones through is real, despite the fact that we do it in the name of fiction. Fiction that in most cases relatively few people will read. Fiction that rarely pays the bills—or even a bill. Fiction that … is fiction.
So, if you’re a writer who lives with other people, and you’re still married and loved and alive, you’d better thank whatever god or gods you believe in. Thank heaven. Thank your lucky stars. And, most importantly, thank those people—the ones three rooms over who are breathing too much and feeding the cats too loudly and putting up with your crazy bullshit but still letting you write since they know how big a part of you it is. Thank them right now. Thank them tomorrow. Thank them every damn day. Because even if you never sell a single copy of whatever you’re working on, you, my friend, have hit the jackpot.
Just like I have.
Your turn. Feel free to share what you're most grateful for—either as a writer or as a normal human being.
Oh, and Happy early Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it!
Fiction writers (me included) often complain to one another about how not enough people are reading their novels or their blog posts or their blog posts about their novels. They whine about how, despite working so hard to create gripping plots filled with compelling characters and twists, the vast majority of people—friends and relatives included—aren’t willing to fork over a few bucks to buy their books.
Well, I’m here today to complain about all the complaining. And not because I’m above it. I’ve certainly done my fair share of complaining about not having enough readers or book sales. But I recently saw the light—well, caught a glimpse of it, anyway—and what I realized is:
Nobody owes me (or any other writer) anything.
No matter how much time or work or creative energy has been put into a book—or even how good a book may be—no writer is entitled to readers.
This is hard for most writers to accept. It was hard for me to accept. And even after accepting it, it’s hard to remember.
I, personally, spend so much time holed up in my writing office, creating and placing so much importance on my fiction, I sometimes forget something much more important: getting REAL.
I don’t mean I need to stop dreaming or that I need to be more realistic (“Hey, writer-boy, get a REAL job.”). What I’m saying is I—and a lot of other writers—need to be more authentic. Specifically, we need to be more authentic in our interactions with other people when we are not writing.
It’s funny (and sad) how so many of us writers find it hard to understand why all the friends and relatives we avoid and ignore for months while working on a novel don’t all rush to buy it when it launches. Also, how upset we get when our writer colleagues don’t all help to promote our latest book even though we didn’t help to promote their latest book when it launched.
Again, it’s not that we’re total a-holes; it’s that most of us have a blind spot when it comes to these sorts of things. Perhaps tunnel vision is a more apt term here. Writing a novel takes a lot of time and requires a ton of focus. Thus it’s easy to become so engrossed in the creative process, you lose sight of the people you’re writing for—as well as the people who’ve helped make it possible for you to write in the first place.
I’m just now starting to “get” all of this, and thus am certainly no expert on the topic. But that’s not going to stop me from pretending to be an expert and listing a few best practices for other writers to embrace.
Following are some effective ways writers—particularly writers of fiction—can “get real” and, in effect, grow their readership organically:
1) Share honest posts about your writing life. Readers tend to be curious about what it’s like to be a writer, and your fellow writers tend to be curious about how sane they are compared to you. Thus, it’s a good idea to occasionally share about your writing process, what you’re working on, what challenges you face, how often you cry over rejections and dismal sales, how often you self-medicate to stop crying over rejections and dismal sales.
As you’ve (hopefully) noticed, I like to infuse my blog posts, Facebook posts, and tweets with humor; however, my most “popular” shares—those that engage the most readers—are the ones in which I’m frank and honest about my shortcomings and fears and failures as an author. Shares where I allow myself to be vulnerable. Those are the types of posts everyone—writers and non-writers alike—can relate to. Because we’re all human, and all humans fall short in some way or another. But especially humans who write.
2) Share honest posts and blogs about your life outside of writing.As interested as readers may be in your writing life, it’s important for them to know you’re not some sociopath who spends all day, every day, holed up in a small room using your own blood to scrawl sentences onto parchment. (Unless you’re a horror writer, in which case it’s not only okay, it’s expected.) To truly connect with readers, you’ll want to show or at least give the impression that you’re a well-balanced individual who has other cool hobbies, like cooking or taxidermy. Readers will also want to know about your family and friends. If you don’t have any friends, share about your pets. If you don’t have any pets, share about your taxidermy.
3) Interact with readers—and potential readers.Sharing posts about your writing and non-writing life is great and all, but being a writer isn’t all about YOU. Your blog, Facebook page, Twitter profile and Instagram account shouldn’t be one-way streets where only you can drive. If you’re doing things right and posting interesting thoughts, information, and excerpts, folks are going to be inspired to comment on those posts—and you’re going to want to reply to those comments. Mind you, merely replying to every comment with, “Thanks—be sure to buy my books!” is not interacting; it’s shouting. And it’s annoying. By taking the time to openly engage with people who’ve taken the time to look at and comment on your posts, you can cultivate relationships that last a lifetime, or at least until your next book comes out.
The same holds true for in-person events like bookstore readings and book conferences. If readers meet you and think you’re a snob or a jackass, they won’t buy your books—and may tell others not to either. They also might punch you, or break your fingers so you can’t write. And if they meet you (and you’re a jackass to them) after they’ve already bought/read your book(s), they may write a scathing review in which they tell the entire world your writing sucks—and that you have a weak jaw and fingers.
4) Form alliances and collaborate with other writers.Writing is a solitary endeavor, but writers are a community. And every writer who actively participates in that community not only stands to gain invaluable insights and create lasting Twitter friendships, they stand to expand their potential readership exponentially. Let’s say you’re an author of crime thrillers with a thousand active newsletter subscribers. That’s a thousand people who likely will be interested in your new novel—seventeen of whom will actually buy it. But if you form an alliance with and help support the efforts of fifty similar authors who have a similar number of followers, that gives you fifty thousand more people who likely will be interested in your new novel—forty-one of whom will actually buy it. (I know, novel-math is a little disappointing.)
Forming an author alliance doesn’t require any blood rituals or selling of souls. (Unless, again, you’re a horror writer.) It merely requires you to do what any decent author person should already want to do—help build buzz about your genre and the writers who help make that genre great. This may include re-tweeting or sharing posts about colleagues’ achievements and book launches, participating in joint-giveaways with fellow authors in your genre, posting interviews with other authors on your blog, and doing newsletter swaps with likeminded authors—or, even better, getting likeminded authors drunk at conferences and stealing their email subscriber list.
BONUS TIP: Another great way to gain access to the vast readership of other writers is to pick a mega-famous author in your genre and marry their son or daughter.
5) Support local libraries and bookstores. The only thing dumber than alienating readers and then getting upset when they don’t buy your books is alienating local libraries and bookstores and then getting upset when they don’t carry your books or allow you to hold an event in their space.
And trust me, you can’t just fake your support of local libraries and bookstores. The people who work in these places are smart; they’ll know if you’re being nice to or helping to spreading the word about them only so they’ll carry your upcoming novel and/or let you do a reading. They’re going to want to see year-round love and support—so visit often, buy/borrow lots of books, bring friends, even go there to write sometimes. At the very least, occasionally bring treats for the resident cat.
6)Realize that doing all of these thing STILLdoesn’t entitle you to more readers. Embracing and taking action around all of the “best practices” I’ve listed above certainly enhances the chances of you getting more people to read your work and buy your books, but it in no way guarantees it. If it did, then embracing such tactics wouldn’t actually be authentic—it would simply be a strategic ploy.
Embrace these tactics not because doing so will help you sell more books; embrace them because doing so will make you a better person. A real person. A human being rather than just a human writing.