Insights

My Fifteen Minutes Of Twitter Fame

So earlier today I sent out a tweet, as I am apt to do, and this happened:

What can we learn from this? Who the hell knows. When you think about it, the tweet isn't really that profound. It can definitely be worded better. I had wanted to put "months and months" instead of "a year" but it just wouldn't fit. Also, in retrospect, I would have ended it with "too much" instead of "too high." And, of course, comparing a cup of coffee to a book is like comparing apples and popsicles (hint: you can't really compare them). The price of $4.99, too ... it certainly could have been $9.99 or anything else, but I figured $4.99 was a pretty low cost for a novel, which made it even more ridiculous when people complain it's too expensive. Still, it seemed to have struck a chord with a bunch of folks, so I guess that's a good thing.

Here's the background: today I happened upon an article about Starbucks and an upgrade to their app (or maybe it was a new app) and it mentioned how they were now making it possible to tip using the app, and it got me thinking about, hey, as a writer, we don't get tips, and then I remembered that analogy Dean Wesley Smith always says how a cup of coffee blah blah blah (note: I don't really agree with him) and so, as I am apt to do, I typed up a quick tweet and sent it and then one of my followers retweeted it and then one of their followers retweeted it and, like that proverbial snowball, it became viral. I mean, hey, Scott effin Westerfeld retweeted me.

Now, I know a thing about going viral. Well, okay, I really don't, as I don't think anybody knows exactly how things go viral. A lot of people try, and a lot of them fail, though some do manage it. Most times, the things that go viral were never really meant to go viral. Take Hint Fiction, for instance. When I wrote that original essay, I never would have imagined it would one day become what it has become, but there you go.

So anyway, I've had my fifteen minutes of Twitter fame, and it was very odd. Besides people retweeting it, there were those who tweeted me saying how much they agreed, those who tweeted me saying how much they disagreed, those who tweeted arguing over just how much a cup of coffee is and how some people don't tip their baristas, and some even sending me links as counterpoint. Some of them I engaged with, others I did not.

Because, really, when it comes right down to it, it's a friggin tweet. There's no profound statement being said here -- at least one was not intended. I was just thinking about how writers do a lot of work and are never given tips, and how it's fascinating in our culture that certain professions are tipped, others are not. How, really, it has become required to tip at certain places, and other places not so much.

But, again, you can't really compare coffee and books.

Besides, writers do receive tips from readers. If anything, I think the best tip a reader can give a writer whose work they enjoy is to help spread the word.

It may not be a monetary compensation, but it means the world to that writer. Or at least it should. Any writer who doesn't appreciate their readers is an asshole and doesn't deserve those readers to begin with.

Oh, and yeah, this happened too:

Something tells me everything else in my Twitter career will be downhill from here.

What Makes A Bestselling Author Today?

The New York Times. USA Today. The Wall Street Journal. The list can go on and on, but those are the three major ones I can think of in the US.

To have your name added to one of those lists, your book has to sell reasonably well (USA Today, I believe, bases their list on actual sales numbers, while the New York Times has ... other methods).

Anyway, it's every writer's dream to become one of those coveted authors who can put on their tombstones New York Times bestselling author.

And while the major bestseller lists are still around today and will be around for a while, there's a new form of bestseller-dom on the horizon -- well, it's actually already here.

I'm talking about the Kindle Bestselling Author, of course.

Now just what exactly does that mean?

Don't get me wrong, being a Kindle bestseller can be great. In fact, there are some self-published writers who sold so well on Kindle that they actually made the New York Times bestseller list. That's quite a feat. As I've said before, the digital marketplace has created a level playing field. Before, no newbie author could ever dream of outselling Stephen King, as the first print run for a King novel is quite huge, while a new author would be lucky if their first novel gets a print run of, say, 7,500 copies. But, again, with digital, the distribution is endless.

Now, to get back to the point, what constitutes a Kindle bestseller?

I would say getting into the Kindle Top 100 (the overall 100, not the genre 100 or sub-genre 100, which we'll talk about later) would constitute, as it means those books are the top selling titles in the Kindle Store out of every other title.

Of course, the list is updated hourly, so it's possible for a book to squeeze into the Top 100 for an hour and then fall back out.

Would that count as a Kindle Top 100 Bestseller?

I guess. I mean, you have books which make the New York Times Bestseller List for only one week before disappearing, and they certainly count.

So let's agree being in the Kindle Top 100 (the overall, remember) is pretty impressive.

But what about the genre top 100 lists? There's mystery and thrillers, science fiction, horror, etc. My novels The Calling and The Serial Killer's Wife have both been in the Kindle Top Horror 100 and stayed there for quite some time. In fact, in the UK, both of those novels are still in the Horror Top 100, which ... makes me an international bestselling author? That's another gray area which is probably a whole new blog post in itself.

Now what about the sub genre lists? Like in horror, there's Dark Fantasy and Ghosts and Occult. So it's possible to have your book listed under one of those sub genre bestseller lists.

Let's look at the Occult sub genre, shall we?

Currently The Calling is #76 on that list.

Sounds good, right? Well, certainly, yeah, but the sales ranking of the book itself is #9,394, which means currently 9,393 other books are selling better.

Again, I'm not complaining, but when over 9,000 other titles are outselling mine, does that make it a bestseller?

Oh, and let us not leave out the Kindle Select Program. Back in the beginning of the year, authors were gaming the system with that program. Hell, I was gaming the system. Amazon's algorithm allowed it to happen. I made two of my titles free, they stormed the free bestseller lists (and, while I'm thinking about it, any author who thinks the free bestseller list counts as a "bestseller list" is an idiot), and when they went back to paid, they sold like hotcakes. In fact, those titles -- No Shelter and Man of Wax -- both hit the genre bestseller lists for Mystery & Thrillers and Horror, respectively.

So are they bestsellers?

In the end I guess it's all about how the author wants to market himself. I've sold quite a decent amount of ebooks this past year, and again, many of my titles have held strong in the genre bestseller lists, so I could easily add "bestselling author" to my bio. But I won't. If I ever hit the Kindle Top 100 (again, the overall list), then maybe I will, but for now I just can't bring myself to call myself that. For one, the "Kindle bestselling author" has become almost ubiquitous. Sure, many authors haven't hit those genre or sub genre lists and probably never will, but many have, though not nearly as many have hit the overall Top 100. And the overall Top 100 is where it's clear your book is actually selling well. Not when it cracks a genre or sub genre list for a day. Calling yourself a Kindle bestselling author then is just disingenuous ... though considering the recent debate about sock puppet reviews, what's disingenuous anymore?

Oh, and don't get me started on the authors who confuse a sub genre for an overall genre, so if their book is #5 in the Occult section under Horror, they proudly tweet and Facebook that their book is #5 in horror. Um, no, sorry to break it to you, kiddos, but it's not, so get a clue.

Because, again, being on a sub genre bestseller list doesn't necessarily mean much. I hate to single anybody's book out, but currently there's this title, which is #100 in the sub genre of Series under Science Fiction.

That title's overall ranking?

#112,192

Long live the Kindle bestselling author!

Podcast: Talking Shop With Brian Keene

A few days ago I stopped over at Brian Keene's place to help him upload his very first self-published title Alone, which was released last year as a limited edition hardcover and is available now as an exclusive ebook (BUY IT!). When we were done, we cracked open some beers and recorded the following podcast, in which we discuss publishing (both traditional and self), the state of limited edition books, what makes a professional writer, Twitter, and a whole lot more. Enjoy, and if you haven't done so already, check out Alone.

Talking Shop With Brian Keene

On Buying Reviews

Joseph D'Agnese just passed on this recent New York Times article about a (now-defunct) service called GettingBookReviews.com which is exactly what it sounds like.

In the fall of 2010, Mr. Rutherford started a Web site, GettingBookReviews.com. At first, he advertised that he would review a book for $99. But some clients wanted a chorus proclaiming their excellence. So, for $499, Mr. Rutherford would do 20 online reviews. A few people needed a whole orchestra. For $999, he would do 50.

There were immediate complaints in online forums that the service was violating the sacred arm’s-length relationship between reviewer and author. But there were also orders, a lot of them. Before he knew it, he was taking in $28,000 a month.

It's a long article, but definitely worth checking out. One major self-published author is mentioned for using the service, an author who I wasn't at all surprised to see named (hint: it's John Locke).

“My first marketing goal was to get five five-star reviews,” he [Locke] writes. “That’s it. But you know what? It took me almost two months!” In the first nine months of his publishing career, he sold only a few thousand e-books. Then, in December 2010, he suddenly caught on and sold 15,000 e-books.

One thing that made a difference is not mentioned in “How I Sold One Million E-Books.” That October, Mr. Locke commissioned Mr. Rutherford to order reviews for him, becoming one of the fledging service’s best customers. “I will start with 50 for $1,000, and if it works and if you feel you have enough readers available, I would be glad to order many more,” he wrote in an Oct. 13 e-mail to Mr. Rutherford. “I’m ready to roll.”

What's interesting about the timing of this article was just last night I was on Amazon and came across the self-published book Alice in Deadland by Mainak Dhar, which sold over 60,000 copies earlier this year. It also racked up almost 300 reader reviews. I forget where I heard it from, but apparently a good portion of those reviews are suspected as being fake. Maybe they are, maybe they aren't, but the book's sequel that came out in March? Only 16 reviews. Quite a large difference there, wouldn't you say?

Customer reviews are definitely helpful, not just for writers but for everything. At the same time, you always have to be suspicious of online reviews. This is why I believe the very best form of promotion is word of mouth. A reader is more likely to check out a book one of their friends recommends to them than a book with over 100 five-star reviews on Amazon. That's just the way it is. Reviews sell, but they also make consumers hesitant. Hell, every time I see a self-published book with over 100 reader reviews, I'm hesitant. Are there a lot of readers out there? Yes. Are the majority of those readers apt to leave reviews? No. I've sold over 12,000 copies of The Calling on Kindle, both in the US and the UK. And how many reader reviews does the book currently have? In the US, 20. In the UK, 5.

Mr. Rutherford’s insight was that reviews had lost their traditional function. They were no longer there to evaluate the book or even to describe it but simply to vouch for its credibility, the way doctors put their diplomas on examination room walls. A reader hears about a book because an author is promoting it, and then checks it out on Amazon. The reader sees favorable reviews and is reassured that he is not wasting his time.

“I was creating reviews that pointed out the positive things, not the negative things,” Mr. Rutherford said. “These were marketing reviews, not editorial reviews.”

In essence, they were blurbs, the little puffs on the backs of books in the old days, when all books were physical objects and sold in stores. No one took blurbs very seriously, but books looked naked without them.

One of Mr. Rutherford’s clients, who confidently commissioned hundreds of reviews and didn’t even require them to be favorable, subsequently became a best seller. This is proof, Mr. Rutherford said, that his notion was correct. Attention, despite being contrived, draws more attention.

The system is enough to make you a little skeptical, which is where Mr. Rutherford finds himself. He is now suspicious of all online reviews — of books or anything else. “When there are 20 positive and one negative, I’m going to go with the negative,” he said. “I’m jaded.”

Yes, Mr. Rutherford, I think we're all jaded by this point. I know I am.

In Which Scott Garson And I Talk About Fiction

Scott Garson is one of my favorite people. Not only is he a great writer, but he also edits what is probably one of the best -- if not the best -- online literary journal Wigleaf. His collection of microfiction American Gymnopédies has been reissued by Lit Pub Books (BUY IT!), and his collection Is That You, John Wayne? will be released by Queen's Ferry Press next year (BUY IT THEN!). Today Scott and I talk about Wigleaf, this scathing New York Times review, the distinction (or non-distinction) between literary and genre (with thanks to Peter Straub), and a lot of other great things. Enjoy!

In Which Scott Garson And I Talk About Fiction