Fantasy Appeal, the Modern Age and Links to Mythology. Or, Why I Love Fantasy :)

I wrote about choosing a genre in my Writing a Book Tips and clearly fantasy is one of these, but what is the appeal?

Fantasy is nothing new and in Saxon/Viking times Beowulf was clearly a favourite tale. But, what was Grendel? Was he a troll and was this the start of fantasy writing? But is this the start of fantasy, sitting around log fires in a long-halls, telling tales in the hush of the night? Probably not. For years dragons have been the basis of many myths and legends. Some suggest that dinosaur bones may have prompted these beliefs. Dragons certainly seem to go back centuries in both China and India.

Just like in Beowulf, if there are monsters, then there will be heroes; no doubt riding to the rescue of some damsel in distress. Is folklore then the start of fantasy? Tolkien certainly relied on folklore to write the Lord of the Rings. Looking at Scandinavian folklore Dwarves, Elves and Trolls certainly existed in these tales and there are many more strange creatures such as a Mare, Pesta (grim reaper type creature) and a Nokken (water creature).

Every country seems to have its own folklore and lists of fantasy-type creatures. These creatures were probably created to explain or the many strange goings on the world; the bumps and thumps in the night. It may also be useful to explain away theft, disease and much more. And where there is folklore no doubt there are tales to go with these strange and beguiling creatures, otherwise why would they exist? People interacting with Sprites, Goblins, Fairies, Demons and the like.

If you look up a list of folklore creatures you will be surprised by just how many these are and how widespread these tales are. There are literally thousands of these tales spreading to all corners of the globe. So you  see, fantasy is an ancient and widespread phenomenon. It is in our genes- so to speak.

So how novel (pardon the pun) is modern day fantasy and who started it? I suppose it was the first to print across the wider community and Edgar Rice Burroughs certainly wrote early books, more on Sci Fi than fantasy but the sword and sandals were certainly present with tales of heroics, demonic creatures and women in distress. Tolkien undoubtedly made fantasy popular and you could argue that with all this folklore abounding it was only a matter of time. Perhaps what Tolkien did was make it respectable. However, for mass appeal the Greeks and Homer was probably the very first mass-market writer of fantasy. The Odyssey and the Iliad for example has lots of fantasy type creatures with its tales of Gods, Cyclops, Harpies, Sirens, Nymphs and any more creatures. It even has its own Dark Lord in Hades, the King of the underworld. .

One issue behind fantasy is that science and travel have made mythology less believable and yet deep-rooted within many of us is the desire to hear tales from the darkness. Tell anyone that you read fantasy and there is less kudos than reading thrillers, historical fiction etc. And yet historical fiction about Rome, Egypt and Ancient Britain is just fantasy set many centuries ago, for the people lived their lives believing in gods, the underworld and a whole plethora of mythical beasts. If you write about historical fiction, your characters must believe in the world around them. He/she probably wouldn't cross a river without laying out a charm or leaving an offering to appease the river sprites.

To my mind -- fantasy is king. I love these tales of good versus evil. If you are writing then fantasy is a great arena to play out your creation, For a great list of fantasy creatures, check out Harry Potter and just see how many of these creatures link to ancient mythology. There are some great new additions, but that is the beauty of fantasy - like a Mandrake -- it just keeps on growing.

My Experiences Creating a Book Plot
My Top Writing Tips for Authors
How to Start writing a Book

Interesting Read: Alchemystic by Anton Strout.

Alchemystic by Anton Strout
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Not my usual read. It's fantasy but modern day Gothic so not sure what heading that comes under. It's not a page turner all the way through and I found myself picking it up and reading a few pages at a time. It's nicely written and the central characters make the story readable.

The premise is odd; a flying gargoyle (not sure that's a spoiler as he's shown on the front page and mentioned in the blurb). The scientist part of me was less understanding - flying stone, but then again a live Gargoyle? Disbelief is what fantasy is all about and it's the skill of the author to make it believable.

Anton Strout does a good job here and the story moves along nicely. There's a lot of chat and the action comes in bursts. I reached the end of the book and did want to follow the tale which makes it worth 4 stars in my view.


View all my reviews

Writing a Book - My Self Publishing Experience and Advice

I have offered advice in a number of articles, see below, and thought it might help to put this in context with how I started and some of my initial pitfalls. I would like to start by asking a question – why self publish? Many folk refrain from self publishing in the hope of a publishing contract. That’s very sound, but my advice is to try both routes. Develop a novel that you are happy to self publish and see how it goes. The publishing route is incredibly difficult as we all know, but clearly not impossible as many people do manage that route. Some self-publishers also achieve that route (Michael Sullivan for example). 

Initially, I sent an enquiry letter to quite a few publishers and literary agents in both the UK and US and received many rejection letters for my efforts. Months passed before I received any responses and as time passed I set about improving my novels. Over the years, the first sample chapters I sent off probably bear little resemblance to the final versions. You cannot kid yourself though; the quality of the sample chapter, blurb and synopsis has to be incredibly high if you want to go via a publisher. Any spelling or grammatical errors will put the publisher/literary agent off. You need to engage with a good editor from the start. Paying someone over the Internet can be a recipe for disaster. Most folks are in this business for the money and will do as brief a job as possible. Not all people are like that, but editing is a time consuming business so it can be expensive. Ideally a friend or family member can make this process cheap, but will they be up to the task?

I had an interesting experience over the phone with a literary agent. It went like this:

Me: High, I have a manuscript and was wondering whether you would read it?

LA: Hello dear. Are you an established author?

Me: No.

LA: Then it will be rubbish, dear.

Me: My friends and family enjoyed it.

LA: They would say that. Wouldn't they dear?

She had an interesting point. You really should not ask family members about your work. It is unfair and puts them in a difficult position. It also raises your expectations. Be advised that editing your book may help improve the grammar and spelling, but you need to check that it really is helping. Some editors will correct what you give them, but pay little or no attention to the storyline and characterisation. If both are poor from the start, then they will remain poor unless an editor is prepared to advise you on those. Clearly that will require multiple edits and so will raise the cost. But, as I have said, the quality of your work has to be very high, for both published and self published work.

I wrote my manuscripts a long time ago and have spent the time since converting them from hand written forms to computer documents. I have also spent much of this time revising the books (I wrote a trilogy which for a first effort is a bad mistake as it triples all your costs). I also learned a lot about self publishing and as you will see, I did that literally.

I initially submitted my manuscripts to the local library. They put out a call for local authors to do this. My manuscripts were in folders at the time and I put a picture on the cover. Other authors submitted something similar so I was not alone in my quality standards. It was at this point that I had a revelation – no one was taking any of the folders out, possibly due to being embarrassed about taking out a manuscript in a binder.

This made me interested in real self publishing, i.e. producing my own book bound copy. I spent a while perfecting this. I used cloth soaked in glue as the initial spine and had a one piece cover made. I built a wooden frame which could compress the book via various clips. I learned to print A5, double sided so that my paper costs were optimised. I actually made some very serviceable books and they almost looked the part.

Back to the library I went and to my relief the books started to go out. It was a marvellous feeling; the books had their own reference number and docket so I could check once in while. The books were definitely being borrowed and as often as any other in the library. That was a great feeling. One day I was behind a chap in the library queue and I overheard him asking for the third book in my trilogy. The library didn’t have a copy as it was out, so I raced home and got him a copy. The chap was very pleased.

For a while this was great, but I wasn't getting any feedback. My books were in the library for about 4 years and I even had to replace worn out copies. So you can see that time can fly. The only justification I had that the books were OK was that all three were being borrowed and that at least made me feel justified as an author. It was at this stage that friend mentioned LULU, a new (or at least new to me) self publishing business.

My next steps were a real learning process. I didn't want to commit too much money to the task, as I was an unknown author and I knew that my books may not appeal. It was becoming more of a serious hobby though. To keep costs down I used old photos that I had taken in part for a historical re-enactment group I belong to – Regia Anglorum. The photos had a distinctly fantasy feel to them so I though they would do the job. I had to get ISBN numbers (the self publisher supplies these now) and register as a publisher.

Within 6 months I had the next generation of novels available for sale and again what a terrific feeling that was. However, Lulu (at the time) was a little strange in that they were meant to be a US company, but the costs of selling the books in the US was prohibitively expensive. They simply took the UK costs and converted this pro rata to dollars, which at the time was crazy. I then found Createspace (Amazon based company) and published books with them as well, with a slight variation in the title. This was great as Createspace books sold realistically priced in the US and LULU similarly in the UK.

Things were really moving, but book sales were sluggish. Several more years passed and for my latest novel I went to a graphic designer to get a really good book cover made. I also spent money with two editors, receiving a passable effort from one and a really dedicated effort from the other. At this stage I was truly self published. My greatest breakthrough was Kindle. Last year I averaged 100 e-book sales a month; over a thousand books in the year.

My reviews were increasing and I won a Gold Award on one website and my books achieved book of the month on another, which really helped my confidence, but strangely did little to help sales. However, I was finally gaining credentials.

In the present day, by far the hardest issue now remains marketing. Google frequently changes how it ranks websites. For a while my ranking was good, but has recently and mysteriously dropped. I now spend far more time marketing than writing. Like the synopsis and blurb, marketing is yet another talent area. You may have noticed by now that there is a propensity for costs to escalate. You must be very careful who you go to, to help with editing, marketing, publishing and there are a lot of Internet sharks waiting to take your money. That is the subject of another article I wrote, Internet sharks and the FBI[1].

Finally, in hindsight should I have gone the self publishing route? I should say that over the years I have read a few published books that quite frankly were dreadful. You cannot fault the English and grammar, but the story lines... Some were so dreadfully dull that I gave up on them, which is rare for me. Don’t get me wrong that this is frequent, but it does show that the published route is not perfect.

I am pleased to be gaining a pedigree, which helps to show the self publishing route is not a complete loss. Even though there are dreadful books that are self published, there are also gems. Where my books fit on that scale, I do not fully know. I know where I would like to think they are, but you must be very careful in making that assumption.

As to advice; as you can see from my experience patience is a great virtue. It has taken years to get to this point. Self publishing companies are making huge strides in making this process far easier than the route that I took. Neither Lulu nor Createspace charge, other than for their distribution channels. I would suggest that you shouldn't have to pay too much to self publish, but do not expect an instant hit and massive sales. Even published books sometimes do not make it. Bookshops have limited space and many published books go on their shelves for only a brief period and then are removed if they haven’t proven themselves.

Self publishers should refrain from asking family and friends to write reviews, especially when they haven’t read the work. It is fairly obvious when this happens as the language is far too complimentary. You also expect to get some poor reviews, after all not everyone will like your work.

There is a great deal of gratification from producing a book. There is also potential for heartbreak. Writing is not a route to instant success or riches. I have heard of some people leaving their jobs to write. Having sold a thousand books in a year – my reward? About $500 so you can see that you are unlikely to become a millionaire. I do wish folk success though, and for the few that do become millionaires? Well done! Well done indeed!

David Burrows

• 
  
• Tips on Self Publishing for New Writers
• How to Get Published
• 
  

---

[1] http://ezinearticles.com/?Trials-and-Tribulations-of-a-Self-Published-Author---Internet-Sharks,-the-FBI-and-Reviews&id=6919278

Gnome Home Hell; a Fantasy Short Story by David Burrows

“Dad, the gnomes are back,” Charlie said, running towards Mike, with a dirt-smeared piece of paper clutched in his hand.

Mike’s heart sank and he groaned, “Again? How do you know they are back, Charlie? You were wrong last time, don’t forget.” Mike’s home had been invaded before and at that time they had relied on the council to get rid of them. It had taken months, as the waiting list was huge. A few weeks ago Charlie had said the gnomes were back, but fortunately he was mistaken.

Charlie was innocently unaware of all the havoc that gnomes created, as he grinned up at his father. A seven year old had no real concept of the cost that gnomes could cause a family. Mischief glinted in his eyes as he handed the paper over to his father. “I found this, dad.”

“Did you let them in, Charlie?” Mike demanded, his voice suggesting uncertainty whilst his face looked horrified that Charlie might have actually been stupid enough to actually do this.

“Of course not, dad,” Charlie sulked. “I know how angry you get when gnomes get in.”

Mike studied his son’s face for a moment. The look of mischief was gone, replaced with a look of concern. He hated being told off.”

Mike took the paper and unfolded it. It was a child-like scribble and briefly he glanced at his son to see if it was his joke after all. In a way he wished it was, but again his son looked genuinely concerned by his father’s obvious anger. His gaze returned to the paper and another groan escaped his lips.

“They’ll be in the cellar,” he said, crumpling the paper in his fist, his eyes staring into the distance. How much would this cost him this time? He regretted not buying the GnomeZapper, the home protector trusted by thousands of sensible homeowners. The radio advert ran through his brain; a mantra that every family hated for it made you think of gnomes and the damage they wreaked. The device was very expensive, but possibly not as expensive as the repairs from an invasion. Mike stormed towards the cellar door, his son following on his heels.

“Can I come down, dad?” Charlie asked.

For a moment Mike considered saying no, but his son’s presence might be just what he needed. The worst thing to do was to lose you temper with a gnome. If threatened, the gnomes hid and the problems trebled. “Yes, you can come down, but be quiet and don’t encourage them. If you show kindness we are doomed.” His son looked genuinely shocked at this and for a moment Mike regretted being so brutal in his assessment, but his son had to understand the truth.

Mike opened the door and then reached behind it for the cellar light switch, “Please be here and not in the attic,” he mumbled. A friend at work had once had gnomes in the attic and before he realised that they were there, the roof had collapsed.

Mike and Charlie descended the narrow stair and almost in front of where the stairs ended was a hole in the ground. Mike stifled a swear word.

“Suger, eh, dad!” Charlie offered, looking sympathetic. Amongst the damp and smell of old bricks was the scent of freshly dug soil. Not only were the gnomes there, but they were already fairly deep. To one side of the tunnel was another hole in the wall; bricks had been removed haphazardly, leaving a jagged maw leading into darkness. A couple of pieces of wood leaned in the hole in a child-like attempt to shore up the wall and stop it from caving in.

“Go get me a torch, Charlie” Mike sighed and he listened as Charlie’s feet slapped on the steps on his way up. “The big torch!” Mike called up as an after thought. He knelt by the hole in the wall and peered in. That there were two holes was a very bad sign. He unfolded the paper in his hand and tried to make sense of the wavy lines. This was probably their equivalent of an architect’s plan. Not that a plan would help. Gnomes were dreadful builders and they caused havoc wherever they went.

His musing was distracted as Charlie, hovering by his side, thrust a large torch into Mike’s eye line. Mike jumped. He hadn’t heard his son return. He took the torch and fumbled for the switch, nearly blinding himself by the powerful beam.

“Shit!” he said before he could think.

“Sugar, dad,” Charlie scolded him. Every time the “s” word was used, Cathy, Mike’s wife always interposed sugar instead.

At this point Mike just didn’t care. He shone the beam into the tunnel. There were already side tunnels; some slanting up and some down. Bricks had been used to make doorways. They never used cement and it was purely a mimicry of the buildings they invaded.

Mike went to the hole in the floor and shone the beam into that. How the hell did they get through cement? To one side of the hole and across the back of the cellar was a growing pile of broken, brick, cement and earth. Looking back down the hole it descended a few feet and then seemed to divert under his feet in the direction of the same wall as the other hole.

Mike shook his head.

“Master Builder,” he shouted into the hole in the ground. He then repeated the phrase calling into the tunnel in the wall.

“Why are they called Master Builders, dad?”

“That’s what they like to be called, son. It’s usually the head of the household.” It was a nicety Mike could have done with out. He wanted to scream come out here you useless shits, but that was a certain road to failure in negotiating with these small freaks of nature.

“Maybe they’ve gone,” Charlie said hopefully, in a child’s naivety that at Christmas was cute, but now was just annoying.

“No, the little s...sugars are still here. Once they’re in you can’t get rid of them.”

“Then how...”

Charlie’s question was interrupted as a small, creature stepped through the hole in the wall, a hand held across its eyes, shielding them from the glare of the torch. Mike switched off the torch and studied the creature. He had seen several moles and wondered how they seemed so clean whilst burrowing under ground. Gnomes had no such finesse. This creature stank of soil which crusted his hair, beard, mouth, fingernails and nearly everything else about the creature. Its clothes were probably stolen, but were as badly engrained with dirt as the creature’s beard.

“Welcome to my home, Tall Person,” the gnome intoned politely.

The phrase my home rattled through Mike’s brain and he sucked in a deep breath, looking at Charlie to calm himself. His son’s eyes shone with wonder. He’d never seen a gnome before and meeting something smaller than himself who was probably thirty years older was probably a defining moment in his life.

“Master Builder,” Mike snarled, pausing to still the beating of his heart and prevent himself throttling the small creature. “This is your plan,” he said holding up the piece of paper. “You must have dropped it.” The thought had sprung to Mike’s mind and desperately, he thought how to develop the train of thought.

The gnomes eyes lit up and he reached out his hand. “You have my thanks. I was wondering whether the left turn was right or up instead.”

Mike withdrew the map marginally, making it clear he was not about to give it up. His mind raced for ideas.

“Your tolerances are wrong,” Mike snapped. Your design is flawed and your home will collapse, bringing mine down along with it.

The gnome growled deep in its throat. “Tolerances are good. I know how to build.”

“Look,” Mike said pointing at a scribble on the page. “That’s off by a good hands’ width. If you don’t get it right to a finger’s width then you know the consequences.”

Mike hadn’t got a clue what he was saying, but criticising a Master Builder for his trade seemed sensible, given he held his plans.

The gnome tried to peer at the map, but Mike held it back.

“Know how to build,” the gnome said, fumbling in a pocket with a dirt encrusted hand. It pulled out another piece of paper and proudly held it up. “Look, new map and tolerances clearly marked.”

Inwardly Mike swore. A door banged upstairs and he heard Cathy’s shout of hello.

“Wait here,” Mike said to the gnome. Turning on his heel he took the stairs two at a time. Cathy came around the corner just as he came out from the cellar doorway, a look of shock on her face.

“Mike, what the hell...you made me jump out of my skin.”

“We’ve got gnomes!” he blurted and was gratified to see that his wife’s face fell, sharing his horror.

“In the cellar?” she asked, nodding towards the door.

“Damn right and they’ve started two holes.”

“Two? We’ll never get rid of them. Do I call the council?”

“No point, they take months. Remember the last time! You know your collection of milk bottle tops you have...the old ones?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied looking suspicious.

“Get them for me. The gold ones.”

Cath’s face fell once again. “My mother collected those.”

“Do you want gnomes?” Mike hissed through gritted teeth.

Cath took an intake of breath and went to find the milk bottle tops. They were simply gold coloured foil of course, but Mike was desperate. Cath reappeared moments later with a transparent plastic bag full of shiny foil.

“Brilliant,” Mike said snatching the prize and storming down the stair with his wife following behind.

The gnome and his son stood looking at each other. Neither spoke which was probably a good thing. With mounting horror, Mike realised he should never have left his son alone with the gnome. Gnomes were harmless, but invite one for dinner and you instantly became a long lost cousin.

“Master Builder,” Mike started. “You have done a fine job of building. Your holes are the best I’ve seen.” Mike held the bag of milk bottle tops behind his back. The negotiations were just starting after all.

The gnome puffed itself up with pride. All gnomes thought that they were fine buildings, but no one ever told them that, so this must have been a first.

“I would like to buy your home from you. I’ll give you gold,” he said. The your home really stuck in his throat.

The gnome’s eyes shone and Mike trembled. If the gnome knew about metal foil then his plan was doomed.

“Where we go, if you buy my home?” the gnome grumbled.

“I’m sure you will find somewhere. With the gold you will be able to buy a new home,” Mike suggested, finally taking the risk of producing the gold painted foil, which shone brightly in the cellar light. The dwarf’s jaw dropped, revealing stumps of teeth in assorted array, looking like gravestones in an abandoned cemetery.

“S...so much gold...,” the gnome stammered, a tear appearing at the corner of its eye.

“You and your family must leave though,” Mike growled, barely suppressing his anger.

“And never come back!” Cath suggested.

The gnome’s attention was fully on the bag. “Agreed,” it huffed. Looking back over its shoulder it shouted, “Others! Come, we leave.”

“How many are there of you? Cath asked. Mike smiled his gratitude. They had to ensure they all left otherwise any that remained would simply let the family back in.

“More than three,” the gnome said and Mike groaned. Gnomes counting went, one, two, three and more than three, so that could mean any number at all.

Calling his bluff, Mike said, “We will count you all and make sure that you all leave.”

One by one, grubby creatures of assorted height came blinking into the light. Which was the wife and children was difficult to tell. Mike counted nine in all. He was taking a risk, “More than three,” he agreed nodding. The gnome nodded in reply.

“You will get the gold when you are outside the house,” Mike announced.

“I am outside my house,” the gnome grumbled. The others behind him were fidgeting and talking amongst themselves as though this was a normal event in a normal day.

“Outside of my house,” Mike answered.

“Where’s your house?” the gnome asked, its eyebrows narrowed in confusion.

Mike sighed, knowing he could never explain this concept. “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

He led the gnomes in a procession up the stairs and to the front door which he flung open, revealing a dark night with puddles of rain water reflecting the light from the surrounding street lamps.

“Awe, poor things,” Cath said, and Mike shot her a dark look. Don’t you dare, he stared at her. She must have caught his intent and her eyes became downcast and she fell silent.

The cold gusted in, but Mike reasoned gnomes were immune to the cold, given they lived in tunnels.

“The gold,” the gnome said holding out its grubby paw.

“Outside,” Mike nodded.

The gnome’s shoulders visibly sagged as it stepped over the threshold. The others followed and once again Mike counted them. Nine. They were all out; or at least he hoped so. He was tempted to slam the door shut, but gnomes were quick and he had a promise from the creature that they wouldn’t come back. He threw the bag of foil at the gnome and then shut the door, sagging against it in relief.

“What if they’ve already tunnelled outside somewhere and just get back in?” Cath asked.

Mike shook his head, “Let’s hope not. I’ll call that builder fellow, Zack, and get an estimate on repairs first thing in the morning. He’ll block up any entrance and hopefully shore up the house.”

“It will cost us,” Cath said, her eyes brimming with tears. She had been talking about a holiday away somewhere and this could use up all their savings.

Mike was fuming. “I’m going to buy a GnomeZapper tomorrow as well. I should have bought one months ago.”

“But friends say that they don’t work,” Cath said, seeing their savings dwindling further.

“Anything is worth a shot,” Mike grumbled. “It’s cheaper than getting the house’s foundations repaired each time!”

“I liked the gnomes, dad,” Charlie added looking up at his parents. “Can’t we get one for Christmas?”

“No. And never let one in, Charlie!” Mike snapped. “We’ll get a dog. How about that? A puppy, to help see off the gnomes when it grows up.”

Cath cast him a withering look, gnomes ate dogs so there was little deterrent there. It was also an additional cost that they could now ill afford.

Mike was pleased though. At least the gnomes were gone and the house was still standing. He knew of people far worse off. What a dreadful day, but finally he felt he could relax.

The gnome stood on the doorstep holding his bag of painted foil. “This very good gold,” he said to his family. “Very light. Easy to carry.”

A light drizzle caused him to look up; his face becoming streaks of dirt as the water did in moments what a lifetime wouldn’t otherwise achieve. Leading his family, he trudged up the road. At an alley a “pssst”, caught his attention and he led the others into the partial shelter.

“That was quick,” a voice said. A figure stepped from the shadow, an umbrella held over his head. “What went wrong?”

“Greeting Tall Person,” the gnome answered sullenly. Tall Person was not polite sometimes.

“It’s Zack, you idiot. My name’s Zack. Now, why are you out of that house so quickly?”

“Tall person give gold,” the gnome said, clutching his prize defensively. His family gathered around him, looking at the foil in the bag in obvious awe.

“That’s not gold!” Zack scoffed.

“Must be gold. Man bought good home with it,” the gnome said sharply, an ugly scowl on his face.

Zack could see in the gnome’s eyes that we wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise and inwardly he cursed. Then Zack shrugged his shoulders. He gave the gnome a torn piece of paper with 27 written on it. “See that shape. Look for that on a door more than three doors up the road,” Zack said, pointing in the direction he wanted them to go. “They have a cat-flap at the back door. You can let yourselves in that way.”

“Cat,” some of the gnomes muttered, licking their lips.

“Cat-flap,” Zack repeated, mimicking a cat flap opening and shutting with his hand.

The gnome nodded and grasping the paper he led his family from the alley.

Inwardly Zack was seething. That the gnomes had been bought so easily with metal foil was very, very annoying. If people found out about that trick then his house repair business could be out of work within weeks. Then again there was always his GnomeZapper. That was earning him a small fortune and the only threat to those sales was from do-gooders who felt the gnomes were being harmed in someway. Zack growled his anger. The GnomeZapper was completely useless of course, but he would still send gnomes to the do-gooders homes to silence them, if he could found out who they were.

He was becoming a wealthy man, but he trusted no one. He could easily afford a limousine and a chauffer, but to keep his secret he would walk home. No doubt Mike would phone him in the morning and on his way home he could start thinking about how much to charge him. The last time, he had charged Mike a lot, but given the gnomes were in the house for less than a day he may have to cut his costs. Still, he loved gnomes. But, he was the only one that did. He wondered where he cold find some more to grow his business.

Initial Marketing Steps Having Written a Book: Giving a Presentation.

Once you have written a book and published it you will want to turn your thoughts to marketing. Giving a talk at your local library is one way of promoting your work. Above is a presentation I put together describing the process I went through as a self-published author and some of the pitfalls.

If you have read some of my blogs on Writing a Book, you will recognise many of the issues I raise, but it is fun putting it into a presentation and talking about these to an audience.

You will need to take copies of your books with you and put them on display. People will buy your books at these events. My audience was about 30 people and I sold about 5 copies. I am very honest and I did caution them that my books were fantasy and only to buy them if that was their preferred genre.

Giving a presentation can be daunting. I took my family with me and that helped to have friendly faces in the audience. Do not worry though, as the audience is usually very friendly and enjoy hearing about other people's experiences.

Try to add humour to the presentation. I added photographs and told how I was caught out by an unscrupulous literary agent and the FBI contacted me about them. That certainly generated some interest. I also told them about how I made my own books and had an example with me. I put the home made copy in a library and it was taken out on a regular basis, which was a great achievement for me.

Overall - it was fun and I would recommend doing this.

• 
  
• How to Make a Book
• My Experience and Advice on Writing a Synopsis and Blurb
• Should You Pay for a review: Yes or No?
• Advice on Types of Book Editing
• 
  

New to Smashwords - Drachar's Demons, fantasy by David and Andrew Burrows

Smashwords allows many download types so I have recently published Drachar's Demons there. Please give it a a try and let me know what you think.

I enjoyed reading Drachar's Demons. It's one of the most enjoyable fantasy books I've read this year. Drachar's Demons is excellent and fast paced entertainment for fans of traditional fantasy books. If you like well written traditional fantasy with plenty of magic and action, you'll enjoy this book very much..  RisingShadow.net

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/491179

Official Trailer - The Battle of the Five Armies

The trailer looks absolutely amazing. This is what fantasy is all about and it looks terrific. Roll on December!



http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2310332/