This website was set up to help promote and sell my new books. Bur unfortunately the above company has failed miserably to achieve this. They were asked to include a blog back in June, but it did not include stats or any working links to social media to promote the blog posts. Eventually this was achieved, but there is still no means for me to follow or to be followed, which utterly defeats the purpose of it. They don’t seem to understand this.
So, 4 months after this blog should have been working, they decided I should link it instead to my long-running blog series texthistory, which I had already signed off from, and which I had explained was impossible to save any posts. They told me to move my posts and part of the website to my old site. They also linked it without my consent but have now unlinked it.
So this has now become a waste of time and money floating in the void instead of doing the job I invested so much time and money on. Well done Liz and Aelryd!
The books are completed, and now this website is live, so I am moving here after my 6 year run at texthistory.com. This will be bigger, brighter and more informative, but right now I am unbelievably tired. Wrangling 3 books into 5 formats and getting the cover designed and to required size has seen me blundering round in the dark, bouncing off walls and nursing bruises, but it’s all done.
Now the really hard work begins: selling these strange stories to you, dear readers and to a largely unsuspecting world. For anyone hoping to publish, I can assure you there is nothing like the arrival of your first proof. Of removing the wrapping and seeing your name in print, flicking through the pages that you wrote, the photographs that you took and converted, all in the font and design that you chose. And the cover. The beautiful, unique cover.
Some people talk of their books as being their children. I don’t see that. Because in a strange way they’re not mine at all. Especially with the story of Henry Bridges, it’s more like he came to me and wanted – or needed – his story told. Does that sound weird? I am also mindful of the final line of Henry Miller’s play The Death of a Salesman which ends with something like, attention must be paid to him, he does not deserve to fall into his grave and forgotten.
So maybe my role has been that of a midwife, or even a medium. I am bringing these extraordinary people and their stories into the modern world. As an author I cannot really judge how well I’ve done. That’s up to you, dear readers. Enjoy!