There was a time when I depended on the Universe for everything. I give the Universe a capital U because in my version of existence, the cosmos, the heavens, and everything in between operate together.
All my life I was conditioned to believe that fate and destiny happen with little interference from humans. (Thank you, religion.) In my line of thinking, no matter what I did, I would still reach the same end. Whether I tried at something or not... what did it matter?
And so, when I wrote my first, second, third, fourth, and fifth books, I did no marketing. If I were meant to be the Diana Ross of The Indie World, I would stand out like a sparkly diamond and steal the show.
And so I wrote my sixth book and named it What If You're Over My Sh*t?. It was the first time I named a book and thought about the reader: Will this title stand out? (As opposed to my other titles: War, Forever, and Over... all of which were lazy cop-outs.) I wrote the What If You're Over My Sh*t? and then sat down at my kitchen table, staring at my laptop. I was going to market this one. For some reason, I wanted this one to be big.
I started going promo crazy.
I bought images, created two covers, and then had my readers choose the one they liked the most. I started a blog and began writing behind the scene guides to the characters. I pre-sold this book to create a buzz. I gave the book to three readers in exchange for Amazon reviews. I created a giveaway, handing out my fifth book (The Murderer's Mistress) for those who bought What If You're Over My Sh*t?. I recorded audio tapes of me giving brief synopsis' of What If You're Over My Sh*t?.
The jury is still out on whether the Universe rewards a doer. Does the Universe reward someone who tries? Rachel and Marc attempt to answer this very question in What If You're Over My Sh*t?.
I guess we'll have to see.
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