Indie authors! Take those rose-tinted glasses off! by @ElkeFeuer

MY MIXED BAG RELATIONSHIP WITH THE WRITING INDUSTRY
by
Elke Feuer

When a publisher said they wanted to publish my book back in 2012, I thought I’d landed in writers’ heaven. I road euphoria waves for months, but my starry-eyed dreams about my publishing experience became tarnished. 

As a young aspiring writer, I had visions of an amazing editor and publicist who’d love and coach me, being sent on tour by my publishing company, and lines of fans at the bookstores who’d camped out hours before just to have me sign their books. Unrealistic? Perhaps, but it was my dream and I’d clung to it for years.

My aspirations changed the moment I got an email from my publisher saying I was the best person to market my book, along with the eBook Guerilla Marketing. Wait? What? I had to send out my own review requests, take myself on tour, and find my own readers? Suddenly the percentage they were taking didn’t seem in my favor.

My traditional publishing experience made me realize (1) the industry wasn’t what I thought and (2) I had a lot to learn about the art of publishing.

I entered the self-publishing world without my rose covered glasses and discovered hard truths about the industry, the people in it, and myself. I love the control self-publishing gives me, but it wreaks havoc on my life in ways I didn’t expect or anticipate.

I’m going into my third year of publishing and with all its challenges, joys, disappointments, and craziness, I wouldn’t change it. My experiences with traditional and self-publishing strengthened me and my love for writing. The journey showed me I didn’t have to wait until I retired to pursue a writing career and even with all the ups and downs, authors have more options today than twenty years ago that work in our favor.

If you’re just starting your journey, I have one main advice. DON’T GIVE UP! This industry will chew you up and spit you out, but if you love to write you’ll make it through. 

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 Introducing Deadly Race

 Race car driver Remy Borden likes fast things: bikes, cars, and men. 

Her plans to become the first woman from the Cayman Islands to race internationally gets sidetracked when she’s injured and pulled from the final race because of a fiery confrontation with another driver.

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Life goes from bad to worse when the racetrack owner is killed and she’s suspect number one because his death puts her back in the race. But racing again proves difficult when Dr. Jackson Wilson insists she stop racing until she heals, making her wonder if his ‘doctor’s orders’ don’t have ulterior motives-the racetrack owner was his friend.

She and Jackson search for the truth behind the murder when accidents start happening at the racetrack, and an adoring fan gets too close. Soon the simmering attraction between her and Jackson boils over, forcing her to admit Jackson makes her think of a life beyond racing.

Elke was born and raised on Grand Cayman and lives there with her husband and two kids who keep her on her toes.

She’s a cof­fee­holic, check­list fanatic, and future space explorer. She has a sarcastic/quirky sense of humor and loves meet­ing new people. When not writing, she's helping other writers in Cayman through her organization CayWriters.

The author of For the Love of Jazz and Deadly Bloodlines, book one in her Deadly Series. She stumbled into writing romantic suspense because of her fascination with serial killers, but writes other genres because characters keep telling her their stories and she's a sucker for a crazy story.

What people say about Elke:

“Elke knows how to create a page turner and will leave you begging for more”.
“Elke is an up and coming author to watch”.

Click for an excerpts of Deadly Races:

“I didn’t really have a relationship with her. She was someone I wanted, but she didn’t know how I felt until an hour ago.” Would she decide to kick him out of her apartment for either leading her on or being a complete ass?

She gripped the couch tightly and it collapsed beneath her hands. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her mouth twisted in anger. Here comes her emotional eruption. He braced himself.

“You put me through all of that for nothing?” She said it with so much control he wondered where she got it.

“It wasn’t nothing to me,” he reasoned.

“Wasn’t nothing? Do you know how many times I felt guilty because you had a girlfriend, or know how many nights I lay awake imagining I’d go to hell for the dirty thoughts I had about you in this apartment, inside and outside your car, even the examination table in your office?” She paced before him.

Jackson was speechless, and turned on, as he thought about everything she’d just mentioned. He remembered the night she kissed him in the car and wondered what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been interrupted, or if they’d been in a secluded area instead of outside her apartment.

“Hey!” she shouted, pulling him from his erotic thoughts of her spread out over the roof of his car.

“Stop that! You don’t get to have a fantasy in the middle of my rant. Got it?” Her index finger pointed at him.

He wanted to smile, but knew she’d probably knock his lights out if he did. “Please continue,” he said as politely and seriously as he could.

“Why couldn’t you be honest with me?” She ran a hand through her hair.

Honest about that? She couldn’t be serious? “Honest about wanting someone I hadn’t even told how I felt? I hardly knew you, Remy, and you wanted me to share something I’d kept secret for nearly two years?”

“Two years?” Her voice echoed in disbelief.

It sounded ridiculous to hear it out loud.

She must’ve thought so, too, because she laughed. It started as a light chuckle, but then escalated to full, out loud, boisterous laughter until it was so extreme she fell to the floor behind the couch.

He walked over to where she lay. “It’s not that funny,” he insisted.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and laughed harder.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this at my expense.” He extended a hand to help her up, but she waved it away as another fit of laughter overtook her. “You might not believe this, but I’m incredibly shy.”

She roared louder and gestured with her hand for him to stop talking.

He couldn’t blame her for laughing. He’d been anything but shy around her. She had a knack for bringing out emotions in him that were less than passive, with her audaciousness and that unfiltered mouth of hers.

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