Aaron Polson is Dead, Long Live Aaron Polson

Remember when Garth Brooks pulled that stupid Chris Gaines stunt?

If you don't, don't worry. In the days of my youth, when I was trying like hell to figure out what it means to be a man, Garth Brooks dominated popular music. I was never a fan, but no high school dance was complete without "Low Places" being played. This is a snapshot of a moment in time, part of my generation, and part of something I'm not sure future generations will have the chance to experience.

Insomnia and I have been wrestling a bit of late, and last night, while watching one of the more horrid (and not in a good way) episodes of Hammer House of Horror on DVD, I started thinking about the fleeting nature of fame in the 21st century. Andy Warhol is my prophet.

Garth Brooks had a solid decade of serious, multi-million-selling fame. Me? Never a fan, but plenty of people loved the guy. He became so famous he could have a bizarro out-of-body experience and pretend to be someone else (Chris Gaines) and the dude still sold billions of albums and won a shit-ton of awards.

This isn't all about Brooks. This is about now, the 21st century, and the lightning strike of fame. Fame is nothing of which I want a part. I do not write for fame, I do not tell stories to become famous, I have no desire to attach "best-seller" to anything I do. I am a writer, I am a story-teller, and I do like to create the best I can.

But fame? Never heard of it. And, like the old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be--at least I suspect she ain't--er, isn't. Remember the guy who wrote the Pride and Prejudice and Zombies mash-up? I don't. But hey... I could Google him*. How about the band which had that song which was popular a year ago? No idea who we're talking about.

Maybe fame has always bounced around, leaving us only with the big names which last for time immemorial. Maybe fame has always worked this way. Maybe I'm just a crabby, sleep-deprived, middle-aged hack. Maybe.

But fame does distort reality. Fame makes a guy like Garth Brooks, king of the popular music world (in the U.S. at least) in the 1990s, think Chris Gaines was a good idea.

I pray I'm never famous.

*Okay, so I looked him up. I guess he wrote the screenplay to the recent Dark Shadows movie. That sucked, too.

Conjure This

I picked up a copy of Fritz Leiber's Conjure Wife on Amazon. Yes, I went for the dead tree edition for six bucks rather than a $7.69 e-copy. I'm still that guy. If the price was $3.99 or less on Kindle, maybe... but that's beside the point.

I'm a good twenty pages in, and it's a fine book, but the cover troubles me:

This woman is not Tansy. Not in my imagination. Not from a book published in 1943, no matter how dark the fantasy. The hair, her dress, the gothed-out eyes... Not to mention the words at the bottom of the cover: "The Classic of Urban Fantasy". What? Urban Fantasy wasn't even a phrase one used in 1943. Was it?

This is marketing, sure, disguising a classic horror novel in trappings of the now to sucker new readers. Not unlike slapping a Twilighty cover on Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, and Pride and Prejudice:

Oh yes they did.

Does the cover effect my reading of the book?  The jury is still out, but if I'm thinking about the cover instead of the content, I'd have to say all signs are pointing to YES. What about you?

Too Many Masks, Not Enough Faces

Many writers express a love/hate relationship with marketing. Smarter people than me have said anonymity is an author's worst enemy. I'd agree. (*shakes fist at anonymity*)

But who is that worst enemy's field marshal? Wearing someone else's mask.

Here's what I mean:

Too many authors, especially indies, are chasing the same brass ring and stomping the same path to get there. Just because something works for an indie juggernaut like J.A. Konrath or John Locke or Amanda Hocking or (insert name here), doesn't mean it will work for me. In fact, I'm likely to fail, and fail epically if I try to be someone I'm not.

Readers appreciate a good experience more than anything. A good experience starts with a good, solid story. "Knowing" an author helps, I think, but it's the icing on the proverbial cake.

My twitter feed is choked with authors saying basically the same thing about their books. Discussion boards are full of the same chatter. Everyone does a blog tour--and while this is a valid way to reach new readers, a blog tour should really try to bring something new and unique to the table. Introduce yourself but be yourself. Whatever marketing one chooses, please, please be you. Be yourself. Make it yours.

In the end, if I'm selling me, I can only sell the "me" I am. If I try to borrow a mask from someone else, it's going to look false. I work with teenagers all day. They're good at sniffing bullshit. So are readers.

Am I a marketing genius? My bank account would say no. Hell no. But I'm not going to get to the Emerald City on a borrowed yellow brick road.

(My path goes a bit wonky through the darkest part of the woods. But I hear there's a secret there, and perhaps I may find it.)

We have a Winner! (and More Elective Surgery)

Fred, the envelope please...

Mary Rajotte is the winner of my 50/50 split of In the Memory House profits for November, thus continuing a fine tradition of Canadians winning my contests. Congrats, Mary. I'll be in touch to share the bounty.

Which might (or might not, who knows?) have been a bigger bounty had I started with this:

Instead of In the Memory House. Sometimes I need a little more market research. I tend to be too much of a gut guy. You see, In the Memory House is also the title of Howard Mansfield's book of essays about New England culture and history.

Yeah. Not my book at all. Mine features a living house which tries to make friends by killing people. Think of it as a house with Asperger's on steroids.

So maybe Echoes of the Dead has a little more zip. The word "Dead" lands hard, at least. It does deliver the message directly, and I've found that is a key piece of marketing any book. And yes, the paperback is still coming.

And then I've nixed Smoke and replaced it with Vengeful Spirits. Again, I think the new title lands harder and sends a little more of a direct message about the book's content.  I've also tweaked the cover with new font and image:

This poor puppy has been through a number of changes, originally starting as Borrowed Saints. Like I said, I'm a gut guy. My heart and mind need to arm wrestle before the next book skitters into the wild.

Congrats again, Mary.  And good luck, my dear books.  I will try to do you better in the future.