I’m a pantser, not a plotter, meaning I tend to write by the seat of my pants. I don’t bother with outlines, note cards or a compass. Planning? What’s that? I forge ahead nearly clueless about what’s going to happen next. I figure if I’m taken by surprise, so will my reader. How’s that going for me? So-so. It’s like searching for buried treasure…with half a map.

Sometimes, it’s the bomb to be a pantser. I can’t wait to discover what comes next. Other times, I ask whaaaaaaat? That won’t work. Back to the drawing board.

With Book Two, I made a few adjustments in order to maintain my sanity, which I prize quite highly these days. I completed my second manuscript writing the same way, blind-folded, head first, plunging ahead. But after crossing the finish line, I went back and outlined each chapter. It was tedious and about as fun as polishing silver, but I felt a certain sense of direction. Which made me feel a little more sure-footed. I still forged ahead, but retraced my steps with iron boots to travel back and forth on the path more easily. Plus, it helped me conquer the yips, brought on by asking does this even work? Can I even write? Where am I? Who am I?

With Book One, I was happy with the ending. With Book Two, not so much. It felt wrong, which made me go back and travel in a different direction.

Maybe I’ve become a plantster. Whenever I reach a scene that doesn’t sit well, I review the chapter outline and either move scenes around, scrap them, and/or write something entirely different. That seems to work. Plus, if you’re a fiction writer, when the time comes to write the dreaded synopsis (condensing the 80,000 words in the manuscript into 500-750 words), what an advantage to refer to the chapter outline. It sure beats thumbing through 300 pages to figure things out.

Actually, I think I’m a flipper. I’ll flip between the two just to keep me on my toes and keep things interesting. How about you?

I had the great, good fortune of attending the San Francisco Writers’ Conference, not as a wannabe writer this time around, but as a published author. I’d won a scholarship award to this same conference a short time ago, and it was a game changer. I’d submitted a chapter for a historical fiction novel and won. To my astonishment, everyone I met at the conference that year assumed I could write! That gave me the confidence to go home and bust out 90,000 words over the next nine months that eventually led to a national scholarship award and finally, publication.

So when I was asked to moderate two panels at the 2017 Conference, I jumped at the chance. But first, I had some work to do to be the best moderator I could possibly be:

– I researched the panel members and studied their bios. I drafted my own bios for each, to vary from the ones the Conference offered, to pique the audience’s interest (I hoped).

– A few weeks prior to the Conference, I contacted each panelist to introduce myself and to “meet” them. This was a chance to determine their needs to ensure our panels progressed smoothly.
One panel needed little assistance; the other a little more. With the second panel, I created a list of questions and emailed them to the panelists. They fine tuned the list and used a few of the answers in their intros. We agreed to use remaining questions should there be a lull in audience participation. Good thing, because there was a lull, and I was able to jump in with questions that panelists were prepared to answer. This ensured a seamless flow and was a big relief for me.

I had the additional wonderful opportunity to be on the Mystery Writers’ panel with an excellent moderator and talented author, Penny Warner. If any of us mystery panelists forgot to mention an important fact during our intros (in my case, the title of my book – geez!), Penny jumped in and prompted us.

Being a moderator was a cinch, with a little preparation and communication. It allowed me the chance to learn from experts, to view a presentation from a different perspective and to be a mini-host at an event that was absolutely wonderful. What better place to spend time than in a community of writers and readers?

I’m not much of a horn tooter. I prefer to be in the background, the slow lane, or a quiet corner. But this was all before the publication of my debut novel. Since then, I discovered that horn tooting has its benefits. I don’t mean literally landing on the horn, but rather, making a little noise when it comes to playing the publicity game.

I learned that promotion begins before publication. To play along with that piece of knowledge, I dove into social media by joining Facebook and by upping my Twitter game. Then I took initiative, contacted local bookstores, and asked to have a book signing, fingers crossed. I wasn’t sure what to include in the asking. I mentioned my tagline, my award, my former life, my dogs and chickens and anything else that would convince a book store to want to host me. The bookstore in my neighborhood was my first choice. I’m a long time patron and it’s one of the greatest bookstores anywhere. Plus, the second floor has a fabulous used book collection that carries everything from Nancy Drew to E Phillips Oppenheim, two of my favorites.

Afterward, I expanded to other bookstores, near and far. Not all responded, but most did. Next I tried another favorite hangout of mine: libraries, emailing to ask if they had interest in hosting mystery author panels. Almost all said yes. I did the same with Writers’ Conferences with equally remarkable results. Do you notice a pattern here? What’s the key to promoting yourself as an author?

One of my favorite quotes:
There are people who make things happen, there are people who watch things happen and there are people who wonder what happened. To be successful, we have to be people who make things happen. – Jim Lovell

How do you make things happen in terms of promo? By asking. If I hadn’t asked to be hosted, no one would have said yes. As challenging as it may be sometimes, to have the kind of life we desire, we have to be proactive in creating it. I really wanted to appear in bookstores, libraries and conferences. If I didn’t have contacts, I tried to find an opening to make it happen. For instance, before my novel was released, I contacted the San Francisco Writers’ Conference and asked to be included on a panel. I had an “in”. I was a past scholarship recipient. But that wasn’t enough. I was invited to participate…in a two minute introduction at the start of the Conference. Not quite what I had in mind.

Fast forward eight months later: I’m a panelist at the spectacular Santa Barbara Writers’ Conference. I look out into the audience of over 100 and recognize the organizer of the San Francisco Writers’ Conference. This was my chance. I told the audience what a great impact the SF Conference had on me – in all sincerity it had. I don’t believe I’d be a published author but for the scholarship opportunity. Later that day, I had the chance to speak to the organizer. I asked him in person. And again via email and again. And I was so grateful to discover that asking (which is my way of tooting my horn) worked. Sometimes, just asking will open the door.