Young women of fashion
Excite the passion
Of older guys,
Who yearn to possess
The girl in the short dress,
And caress
Her perfectly formed thighs.
losing himself in those soft brown eyes,
Man tries
But rebuffed,
He acts tough,
Inwardly sighs
While inside, a little bit of him dies
Letting go of one’s book can be difficult. Several weeks ago I was in the pub enjoying a pint with 2 friends. I had just sold a copy of my book, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” to my friend A. There it sat, in all it’s splendour within easy reach of 3 pints of beer. Just one careless elbow or a wrong move by my guide dog Trigger and my book would have been well and truly soaked! While I didn’t voice my concerns, I sat in convivial surroundings thinking “what if someone’s beer splashes all over my book?” However the book was, of course no longer mine as it’s ownership had passed from me to my friend A who is now entitled to do with it as he sees fit. While “Lost” remains mine in the sense that the creator of intellectual property/ideas retains ownership of them (unless he signs a contract signifying otherwise), once I sell and/or give away any of my books, the property in them passes to their new owner.
I guess my feeling of concern regarding that book and the 3 pints can be compared to a parent who’s child has reached the age of majority, the point at which they can leave home and enter into relationships without parental consent. Parents may worry that a particular date isn’t right. They can, however do nothing whatever about their son or daughter’s decision.
The copies of “Lost”, once sold are, forever lost to me. Doubtless their new owners will treat them with care and, I hope gain many happy hours leafing through my work. I do, however think from time to time about that book on the pub table and the 3 pints of beer …!
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Every hero must take the first courageous step into adventure. For Luke Callindor, it’s more of a blind stumble.
Depending more on bravery than common sense, Luke sets out to protect a royal heir who is attending the prestigious Hamilton Military Academy. With a demonic assassin in the shadows, the determined warrior will have to think on his feet to defend his charge. If only he waited long enough to find out which student is the hidden noble.
With Luke’s dream on the horizon and a deadly enemy on his path, how will he transform from a reckless adventurer to a true hero of Windemere?
So many dinners
And diverse sinners
Knowing
Where they are going
Once the bill is paid
And the maid
With winking face
Shows grace
And retires.
Not so secret desires
Observed in his eyes.
She tries
To take refuge in drink.
They think
Of the time ahead,
Of the night’s dead
Hour and bed.
As a child she tottered on her mother’s heels.
So high
Struggling to reach the sky
Now her fate she seals
With deals
Done over the phone.
Alone
With guys
Her trade she plies.
Empty thighs
Open
And saccharin words are spoken.
But can one deceive
Those who yearn to believe?
She has his measure.
A man of pleasure.
Not bad
Just a sad
Boy
In search of a new toy.
He has No desire to destroy
But seeks for joy,
Angling with his hook of gold
For fish it is impossible to hold.
—
Gazing back
Down childhood’s track
She perceives a lack
Of love.
The light above
Is not red.
No drugs fill her head
Yet the dead
Thud
Of empty love,
Of skin against bone
Screams “Alone.
You are young.
Your chance you flung
Away
Without a care
To lie with your clothes
Heaven knows
Where.
‘Twas in work not play,
You lost yourself there”.
On Friday evening, I popped into my favourite local, the Railway Bell for a pint or two. While there I fell into conversation with an acquaintance who mentioned my book, “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”, (http://moyhill.com/lost/). I enquired whether he would like to see the book (I had a copy in my rucksack) and was told one was on order from his local bookshop. While I was delighted to learn that I had another customer for my work, I had to suppress a smile as the publisher holds no stock. Consequently my acquaintence’s order will find it’s way to Moyhill who will, in turn pass it on to me for fulfilment. I will then send a copy of “Lost” to the bookstore. How much simpler things would have been had my drinking companion gone direct to the horse himself!
The above does demonstrate that my book is showing up on all the correct systems, hence the bookstore being able to order it. I am, however still left feeling that I’ve been through rather a surreal experience!
Kevin
Rain falling
Calling
To me as it fell
Casting it’s spell.
Drops on my window tapping.
The sound
Around
Me wrapping.
Eve
May deceive
While Adam and his mate
Learn to late
They did create
The serpent that
Under the Tree of Knowledge sat.
The constant rain
Drumming on my window pane.
The sane
Man
Can
Forgo
The forbidden fruit.
Yet his failure to withstand
The fickle hand
Of pleasure
Is at the root
Of much woe.
He doth Taste
In haste
And repent at leisure.
In the end
Only the Sane
Rain
Will remain,
As we descend
To the place where dreams that shatter
No longer matter
And lover’s inconstant chatter
Is replaced
By death’s blank face.
What is the point of having your book (or books) available in print? Surely the future is digital. Print books moulder unread on dusty shelves while we all browse our Ereaders, tablets and smart phones? Below is my experience of selling the print edition of “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind”, my latest collection of poetry, (http://moyhill.com/lost/).
I have given away copies of “Lost” in return for honest reviews in both print and electronic formats. Friends and several libraries have also been recipients of my book. Apart from free copies, I have sold a number of print books (8 at the last count). I usually carry several copies of “Lost” in my rucksack and if the conversation turns to books or what I do with my time, “Lost” is mentioned. At this point in the conversation I hand over a copy of my book, people flick through and (as mentioned above) have, on a number of occasions purchased a copy.
While it is true that I could bring up “Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” on a Kindle or other device, in my experience most people still prefer the physicality of a book and are more likely to buy when faced by a hard copy work. I may have lost out on opportunities to market “Lost”. For example I recently gave a poetry reading at the Poetry Cafae in London’s Covent Garden. Being unsure as regards the rules of selling books at such events, I refrained from doing so. However several other poets did mention (and sell) their work and I shall not neglect a future opportunity to market mine.
What about sales via the internet or through brick and mortar bookstores? As mentioned earlier, “Lost” is available on the Moyhill site. In addition it can be found in my local independent bookstore, Bookseller Crow, (http://booksellercrow.co.uk/). While I am extremely grateful to the publisher for creating a dedicated webpage and to Bookseller Crow for stocking “Lost”, as of today (14 April) no sales have been forthcoming via the publisher or the bookshop.
Why should the above be the case? In my local bookshop “Lost” has to compete with thousands of titles and while it has an eyecatching cover (for which I’m grateful to David Cronin of Moyhill), my book has to compete with many other works possessing well produced covers. Another reason explaining the lack of sales in my local bookstore stems, I believe from the fact that poetry is very much a niche market and works of poetry do not sell in the same quantities as fiction. While I publicise my writing via this site (newauthoronline.com) my presence is not that of a Carol Ann Duffy and if most people haven’t heard of you it becomes largely a matter of chance as regards whether they will browse (let alone buy) your book. In short “Lost” is a small tree in a big forest and it is a matter of chance as to whether a wanderer stops to rest under it’s branches and enjoy the scent of my tree.
Turning to Moyhill, they are an excellent company and I cannot recommend them highly enough. However my book is one of many on the publisher’s website and it is, again largely a matter of chance whether a browser will alight on “Lost”.
The advantage of selling face-to-face is that readers can engage the poet and/or author in conversation. They can browse your book, ask questions and even request you to read a short passage. Likewise, with poetry readings, if a person attending likes what they hear, they are more likely to purchase the poet’s work than if they passed by his (or her) work in a bookshop.
The obvious disadvantage to selling face-to-face is that you, as the poet/author can only ever reach a tiny percentage of your potential readership, none the less a sale remains a sale!
In conclusion, in my experience, selling print books as a little known poet is perfectly possible, however sales largely flow from face-to-face interactions with potential readers/buyers. Having a website and/or blog is a great way to get your name out there and generate interest in your work, it will not, however necessarily lead to significant book sales. Despite not having sold books via my local bookstore, I remain grateful to them for stocking “Lost” and I’d certainly recommend getting your work stocked (if you can) by a bookstore.
(“Lost in the Labyrinth of My Mind” is also available as an ebook and can be found HERE)
My thanks to my friend John for drawing my attention to this interesting interview with visually impaired writer and Guardian columnist Susie Steiner, (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0766g1s). The interview, which starts approximately 10 minutes into the programme, covers matters such as the impact of blindness on Susie’s writing.
Kevin
Excess of sadness
Leads on to madness.
Yet
Is it better to forget
Regret
In Hades river
Whither
We are all bound?
The place where the sound
Of weeping
Is never heard amongst the sleeping
Dead.
We are led
To seek happiness here
Yet, I fear
We hear
Not the joyess melancholy of the birds
Who’s song surpasses man’s paltry words.
Sadness and joy are our lot.
We have got
But a short space
To look upon nature’s beauteous face.
Let us live life to the full
For in Hades only the dull
River doth wait
To take
All we are away
From the sun’s bright day.
K Morris - Poet 