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William Lobb

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Path to Publication

30 Second Elevator Pitch – Third Step

elevatorSo, I was told that before my book officially “hit the streets” (sounds ominous, right?) that I should have an elevator pitch or speech.

Basically that means what I can say about my book in the amount of time I’m stuck on an elevator with some poor, unexpecting, future reader…

Here’s my shot — what do you think?

30 Second Elevator Pitch:

Heroin and prescription drug and alcohol abuse in this county is out of control. Worse now than when I was young. The war on drugs is a complete and dismal failure.

I survived this Hell. I found the twelve steps, fell apart at the Third Step: [Read more…] about 30 Second Elevator Pitch – Third Step

The Publish Button, Complete With Sireeeeens

Frustrated man at a desk

So, here we are at the very end. This is where things start to get interesting. After six months of bitching and complaining about friends and editors and marketing people, after all that screaming and blaming the universe, I am now down to the last 300 printed pages to read myself, out loud, Shari’s orders.

This mess of a manuscript has been professionally edited three times,  it has cost me all my friends. It’s been read by 25 beta reader and corrected it a thousand-thousand times. It  now comes down to this. [Read more…] about The Publish Button, Complete With Sireeeeens

Our Hero Meets His Match…

1024px-Book_burningSettling in and enjoying the heady aroma of my book burning in the fire pit, I remember I have to call Rob. You know Rob by now, the guy with the sound advice. The guy who actually helps me and wants me to succeed? The guy who’s advice I finally decided to take? I call him, the conversation goes like this:

Rob: “How’s the book coming?”

Me: “Firepit, I think I see page 278 going up now. That was a good page, I’m gonna miss it.”

Rob: “Why don’t you calm down and let us edit it.” [Read more…] about Our Hero Meets His Match…

Self Publishing Becomes Self Loathing…

forest-fire-1164329_1920And so self publishing becomes self loathing… I hate this book. I hate me for ever starting it. I hate every word. All 128,000 stupid, fucking, misspelled, incorrectly punctuated, echoed, passive words.

I hate editing. I’ve read this nightmare 12 times. No one should have to do that – ever.

I hate Frankie, I hate his friends. Somedays I want to rewrite it just so everyone dies. Maybe end it with a nuclear war so that no one is left except the cockroaches, but then a cockroach would say, “Great job, but there is a typo on page four.” I hate the cockroaches. [Read more…] about Self Publishing Becomes Self Loathing…

Snake oil… Step right up! Or, How do we get published, really?

Snake-oil salesman Professor Thaddeus Schmidlap at Enchanted Springs Ranch, Boerne, Texas, USA 28650a
So, adrift, me and the butchered great American novel (see last post), I turn to the source of all of man’s accumulated knowledge. As G.W. Bush called it, “The Google.” How to get published…

I The Googled all kinds of stuff – self publishing – literary agents – how the fuck do I get anyone to read this mess – editors… I need an editor, one who is not insane.

I stumble on this one site, looks very legitimate.  They don’t take every submission, they only accept ten percent; acceptance is practically a sure bet to a huge publishing deal. They want the first chapter, synopsis, a bio… [Read more…] about Snake oil… Step right up! Or, How do we get published, really?

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