I got my box of ARC’s yesterday, at work. Ten very slim books, each with my name on the spine. I didn’t look at them for a long while – I set them aside and worked on some spreadsheets, then after a couple hours, I picked one off the top of the pile and showed it to a coworker. She opened it up, and I cringed. I don’t know why – maybe I was waiting for her to tell me all the pages were blank, or start laughing and say “this is a joke, right? oh, honey, this gives me a sad”. But she didn’t laugh and she didn’t point out any horrific errors. She seemed genuinely complimentary; and when I took the book back, I thumbed through it. It’s quite beautiful, inside and out. It seems a little surreal, though. I took one copy home, and stuck it on the shelf with the small selection of anthologies and magazines I’ve been published in. Barely half an inch of my name, sitting in a two-foot long row of paper. Yeah, well. It’s a start.
The other nine ARC’s will go out to a few bloggers and magazines that review horror. I know a lot of authors create contests and give away copies to get everyone whipped up into a pre-pub frenzy, but I don’t think I have enough blog readers (or readers in general) to justify doing that. Also, I’m too lazy busy to think up of some clever contest – I’m trying to finish my novel, when I’m not constantly mixing up hot toddies for myself Herbert. Hey, it’s hard out there for the slave of a centipede. However, if you really, really need to have a copy of the ARC, contact me privately via LJ or Facebook, or myname at yahoo dot com, and I’ll see what I can do about getting more copies.
Back to the toddy factory. I kind of do like winter.
.Originally published at Livia Llewellyn.