Tuesday, 20 November 2018

The Friday Round-up (Or, How to Fuck-up Publicity for Your New Book)


Yes, folks, it's time once again for the ever-popular Friday Round-up. And this time, as ever, it's not appearing on a Friday, but, for a change, it's not a round-up.

I've been reminded, in somewhat blunt and even sweary fashion, that I have been neglecting this blog for some time. And I said to that: bollox! Because if you think this blog's neglected you should see my liver. Fuck it, you should really see my writing career, which I've been on the edge of abandoning completely all year.

More on that in a later blog (I will be back) but right now, let's jump to the ever edifying act of blatant self promotion of the most naked kind. I have, as reported on Pusher, a new book out. I may need to remind my publishers of this fact because the publicity has been about as effective as a CGI Jimmy Savile heading up a recruitment drive for the Scouts.

So, given that there is a clause in my contract to give first refusal on the next DCI Bob Valentine to this particular publisher, this will indeed be the final outing for the man himself. If it's of any consolation, I think HER COLD EYES is the best of the series and the blogosphere's reviewers seem to agree so perhaps, just maybe, it's worth the fucking ridiculous price of £2.48 my
publishers have been charging, uninterrupted, since launch. I'd suggest writing to them to seek a lower price but they never answer my emails, so I doubt they'll answer yours either.

Moving on, that pic up there in the corner is from the Arran Banner - the only piece of mainstream media publicity HER COLD EYES has had; and yes, I got that. Thanks to Hugh my old mucker at The Arran Banner, you are a diamond in the rough old son and I appreciate the hand-up. (PS-I left the bottle of Grouse in your desk drawer as agreed).

Next up, on this pitiful publicity round - I use the term loosely - is a picture of a book in a shop, face out, and in the 3-for-2 section no less. God bless you, Ellie Wixon, of Blackwell's in Edinburgh. You have been with me from the start and never failed to push my work in-store at every opportunity. You are a true saviour of all the writers let down by lazy publishers who can only be bothered to push the titles they have nearly bankrupted themselves to buy (you have to make that moolah back somehow, right?)


Finally, on this round up of my complete abortion of a book launch, is a pic sent from a reader who spotted HER COLD EYES in a certain popular bookstore, somewhere in London. Now this, I admit truly stunned me, because most of my emails from readers down south are to say they can't even find my books in their shops. So to hear that it's in the hooky paid-for bullshit top-ten chart that this retailer knocks-up I can only presume it's an honest mistake. I'm guessing by the delivery driver because I've no idea how I got in there.

And that's it.

If you'd like to buy HER COLD EYES, and frankly, with all this encouragement why wouldn't you? Then you can find it on Amazon (where I could have stuck it myself) for the outrageous sum of £2.48 in eBook and for the weird sum of £7.74 in paperback.