You read that right, fearless reader. I come to you, mere weeks after Punk Party was released to online booksellers, to ask one last giant favor of anyone who has purchased it, and then—shockingly—has actually gone on to READ it.
First of all, if you did both of those things, I can’t begin to express how much I love you. It means the world to me … and now I can only hope that my book about goofballs, schemers, free spirits, and hopeless romantics brought a little bit of happiness into your day.
Which brings me to today’s difficult task. The task that—if I wasn’t a one-man-band writer/publisher/marketer—I’d be absolving myself from. The task that I’d be blaming some “suit” in a glass tower for undertaking. But I can’t. It’s just me. I’m the suit. (Never mind that my suit today is sweatpants and a well-worn “LOST” t-shirt.)
So, today … like Oliver Twist asking for more gruel, I am here requesting one last favor:
A review.
Reviews help drive interest (I hear). Reviews help the lowly self-publisher look legit (they tell me). Reviews boost the author’s shaky morale (if they skew the right way).
So, if you’ve got a couple minutes and you feel it’s worth it, go to Amazon (or BookBaby, if that’s where you bought it) and type up a review. Give it to me straight, folks, I can take it … or at least give it a rating. I’ll never ask for another thing from you ever again.
P.S. I lied.
(Wait. Since when does a blog post have a “P.S.”? Since now, I guess.)
One of the most incredible bonuses of this self-publishing journey of mine have been the photos that you’ve shared on Twitter, Instagram, and via text. You have no idea how marvelous it is to receive texts and emails and Instagram posts with photos of my book arriving at your house … some of them with you in it. Joyful. Here’s a sampling of a few … I’d love to see more! (Hint, hint.)
Love to all of you for putting up with me. I hereby make a solemn vow my next post will have nothing to do with my book. (Who am I kidding? I don’t know that I can keep that promise.)
I know some of those goofballs, schemers, free spirits, and hopeless romantics. Were are they now? 70% in jail,, I suppose.
Wow I’m impressed. You’re doing exactly the right thing, because I keep MEANING to write a review and now I know I have to haha! I’ll be signing my name Squeak. My first nickname in college.