So I guess I’m in good company with finally launching NOLA next Wednesday. If you don’t know why June 26 is so significant, you can read my recent blog post: Are You Ready to Visit NOLA?
I’ve had several Swarm members buzz around and ask how they can help beyond buying the book.
Frankly My Dear . . . How to Write a Book Review
Lemme tell ya: There are two things an author covets more than anything once the book is published. (Well, three if you count coffee.) The first is sales. Buy the book. Buy it for yourself. Your friend. Your significant other. Your neighbor, mailman, kid’s cousin’s dog walker’s parents. Buy. The. Book. And buy it in all forms. Print. Digital. Audio. However it’s available, however you’ll read it.
I mean, yah, we totally write because we don’t know how to not write, and you hear us say, “Oh, even if no one bought my books ever I’d still be a writer.” What a load of youknowwhat. I mean, it’s true. But in a demented, look at my sadlittlelife kind of way. So, really. We like the book sales. I ain’t gonna lie.
The best nonmonetary way you can support your favorite authors is to write a review and share it. But readers. Well, y’all are readers, yah? Not writers. You want to get into the characters, the setting, the whole joie de vivre of it. “Oh, great,” you say. “Now she’s speaking French. I’m never gonna understand!”
Calm you’re kettles. It’s gonna be okay.
Reviews show popularity. And you know who gets noticed in the industry? The ones who are getting noticed. Think on that for a minute.
Amazon and Goodreads drive book popularity based partly on sales and reviews. That’s why both are important.
The most important thing to realize is a book review is not a book report.
There are three things imperative to a good book review:
You have a social media site to share the review on (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn, etc.)
You have an account at Amazon and/or Goodreads
You’ve read the book.
Seriously. That’s it. Once that’s all been established, you click on the book link, then click on “Reviews,” then click where it says, “Leave Your Own Review.” Type away, and share.
The second most important thing to realize is this is your review.
You’re not graded on sentence structure, grammar, or word count. You won’t be put in reviewer jail if you misquote something. Just tell the author and their audience if you enjoyed the book, and why/why not. Use your own words and speaking style. Don’t fancy it up or dumb it down. Most review site require a minimum of 250 characters. Easy peasy.
PERSONAL PREFERENCE: There is no wrong way to leave a review, but don’t give away spoilers like, “It was really crazy how that spaceship zapped up Rain and Josie at the very end. I mean, I thought it wasn’t a sci-fi.” [Real spoiler alert: that is not how NOLA actually ends.]
Now, I’m not all in for author-bashing or trolling (those little internet mongrels that like to badmouth strangers just because they can!), but I am a fan of authenticity. So be honest, but be nice. Remember, you’re reviewing the book, not the author, not their lifestyle. If you want to review that, go to other websites. Get me?
A detailed review can be as short as three or four sentences. Did you find it compelling? A page turner or a nodder (one that put you to sleep)? Do you want more from this author, these characters? If the story is set in a real place, did the reading feel accurate? Did you emote through the story?
Based on the above, a positive review of the Wizard of Oz might read: (Five Stars) “I was enthralled with the duality of worlds and Dorothy’s struggle to realize everything she needed she already had. The Flying Monkeys were very scary, but the Cowardly Lion, Scarecrow and Tin Man were wonderful companions and showed a true depth of character as they grew along their journey. I highly recommend this book, and can’t wait for the sequel. “
A negative review might read: (Two Stars) “The fantasy worlds were too much for me to grasp. Frank L. Baum’s writing style is definitely for children. Although the writing is clean and the plot flows as it should, this book isn’t for me.”
You may be asked to title your review. This isn’t mandatory, so you can start with the first line of your review.
But the stars. If you feel the book is really good, but not as great as others you’ve read, it’s okay to leave four stars instead of five. Note that a Five Star Review means you really loved the book and want more. One Star means you’ll never read that book again. Three Stars mean you’re either apathetic, or the book didn’t reach it’s full potential.
PERSONAL PREFERENCE: Review the book and the author, but leave out any personal details. “I really loved helping Amy Pen brainstorm as she outlined this story,” or “I’ve known John Writer since we were kids and I’m so proud of him.” Those personal kudos can go on your social media sites, but don’t belong in a review.
Reviews are an author’s equivalent to crypto-coin. Well, maybe not. But sort of. And you have the power to make them rich.
Here are a few other ways you can support your favorite authors:
Ways to Support Your Favorite Author
Leave a comment: Do you leave reviews for books you’ve read? What are some of your favorite summer reads?
With a cup full of sweet tea and a house that needs cleaning, Happy Reviewing. ~Molly Jo
Frankly, My Dear . . . Savor the Journey!
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Bohemian Hurricane
Molly Jo is better known as the Bohemian Hurricane. She is the author/curator of The Unemployment Cookbook and several eBooks available on Amazon. Her work-in-progress, NOLA, is a romantic mystery novel set in New Orleans, and the first in her City Series. [Note to Self: Seriously. Change this.]
Are You Ready to Visit NOLA? (Or, How I’m Celebrating the Best Decisions I’ve Ever Made in My Life)
This is typically the pre-post point wherein I give you an update on NOLA. You know, something witty, adorably personal, maybe with a touch of Bohemian humor.
Well, I hate to disappoint y’all, but there will be no pre-post update.
Awww, don’t cry! It’s okay. No, really. It is.
Wanna know why?
Well, I’ll tell ya:
NOLA IS FINISHED AND WILL BE RELEASED NEXT WEEK!
How do you like them beignets?
NOLA, by Molly Jo Realy
Isn’t she pretty? I’m so in love with the cover. Like, crazyinlove with it.
Ah, but first. The celebrations.
It was exactly one year ago today I woke up, and I just knew. I knew in the way no one questions the blue sky, or green grass. I knew I had to move to South Carolina.
What started as a five-year plan so became a one-year plan. Then maybe a six-month plan. Then God smiled and said, “Fasten your seat belt, honey. You’re on a race track and there are no stop signs.” Four months later, I unlocked the door to my new home.
That’s Celebration No. 1.
Celebration No. 2, of course, is finishing NOLA.
Like, really finishing it. Not just typing “The End” and going back to fix what wasn’t broken. But hiring the book designer, stop micromanaging the character dialogue, and just letting it simmer. Let a tea kettle on the stove on a hot summer day.
Which, come to think of it, is kinda what today is.
And you know what? That tea kettle is singing for attention. Yup. That’s right. I pulled that baby right off the burner, poured it over some leaves, let it cool, and now we have a nice brewed book ready to be drunk in with all the love a sweet summer tea can offer.
NOLA will be available through Amazon starting Wednesday, June 26.
That is Celebration No. 3.
And a very significant anniversary. It was seven years ago to the date that I started NOLA. What began as an idea for the name of a free-spirited character evolved into a short story until it became apparent a novel was born.
NOLA Research
And now here we are. I’m becoming Josie. I’m living in the South. And my book is a real thing. I just don’t know what to do with all this goodness except drink it in, toss my hair back, and smile.
Yup. It’s time to party.
Oh, did I mention I’m having a Launch Party on Facebook? You can join now if you like: NOLA Facebook Live Launch Party. There will be posts, polls, and lots of fun stuff for the next few days. The Live Event will be Wednesday, June 26 at 9pm EDT. Did I also mention gifts and prizes? I didn’t? Must’ve slipped my mind …
Well, much as I’d love to stay and chat, it’s super late on Thursday night and I need to make sure this gets posted. I also have some beignets to order.
Leave a comment: What are you celebrating this summer?
With a cup full of chicory and heart full of love, Happy Writing. ~Molly Jo
Frankly, My Dear . . . Savor the Journey!
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Bohemian Hurricane
Molly Jo is better known as the Bohemian Hurricane. She is the author/curator of The Unemployment Cookbook and several eBooks available on Amazon. Her work-in-progress, NOLA, is a romantic mystery novel set in New Orleans, and the first in her City Series. [Note to Self: Time to change the bio info. #shazam!]
Nine Things XANADU Taught Me About Creative Endurance
(or, A Writer’s Review of a 38-Year-Old Movie a Lot of People Don’t Care About Anymore But Should)
~#~
I really don’t know how the topic started. At a marketing conference recently, my new friend Jenn from Mixtus Media mentioned Xanadu. “Do you remember that movie?”
“Remember it?” I gasped. And then explained how just the day before I was rocking out in the elevator to the song “Whenever You’re Away From Me”. I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s a #truestory. [And here’s where I’m betting Beckie’s a little glad she wasn’t on this trip with me. That’s okay, Beckie. You know I still love you!]
Fast-forward to after the conference and some well-discussed Facebook posts and YouTube videos, and now the movie is in my Prime rental library for another two hours.
Shameless Admission:
I’ve already watched it three times.
And, yes.
Yes, I have sung each song out loud, each time.
Loudly.
Because I still know the soundtrack to XANADU by heart.
XANADU got me thinking about my creativity. I know, that’s a really weird thing to write. Because y’all know I’m inspired by sweet tea and Hemingway and O’Connor and peacocks and Van Morrison and frogs and zebras. None of which are in this 1980 roller skating fantasy world (unless you count the disco outfits. But I’d really rather not.).
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Nine Things XANADU Taught Me About Creative Endurance
Anyway . . . Besides reclaiming my youth and the let-it-loose elevator vocals, here are nine things XANADU taught me about being creative. I invite you to join the discussion.
Taking care of business does not mean you’re a creative failure. The movie opens with Sonny Malone (Michael Beck) returning to his job as a studio painter: he enlarges album covers for display in store fronts. He had walked away from this job to pursue his dream of becoming a “real” artist, but it didn’t work out. Once the pressure was on, the creativity was off. But Sonny was always a “real” artist. It was doing it full-time that shook his boots. So he went back to what he knew. Not as a failure (although for a time he thought so). His day job was a safe place where he could continue to hone his skills and bounce creative ideas off his team. (Note: I don’t recommend talking smack to your boss unless you have that sort of banter relationship. Definitely don’t encourage him to fire you unless you’re ready to walk.)
Support comes from many sources. There’s a phrase in the industry: Street Team. These are the people, personal and professional, who believe in you and want to help you succeed. They read your books, leave reviews, attend author events, give encouragement. Think of it as a positive posse. (I call y’all my Swarm, and you can join on Facebook by clicking here: NOLA Swarm.) In XANADU, Sonny’s Swarm starts when he meets Danny McGuire, the clarinet-playing old-timer (Gene Kelly), and then Kira (Olivia Newton-John), one of Zues’s nine daughters, or muses. Each contributes something different to Sonny’s life, but both believe in him even when he doesn’t believe in himself. They swarm to his side, along with his other friends and former coworkers.
Practice makes perfect. Sonny’s dream is to be a renowned artist. So whatever he’s doing, he practices. At work, he gets into trouble by spending too much attention to detail. He takes odd jobs where he can get them. He’s painted walls, vans, canvases. He never stops painting. So even if it’s not how he wants to do it, at least he is doing what he wants. And he keeps at it. He keeps getting better. And, even though he wants us to think he’s given up, he never really does.
Changing directions is not the same as stopping. His budding friendship with Danny and encouragement from Kira influence Sonny to co-own a night-club/disco/roller-skate hall with Danny. Through a lot of hard work, they find the perfect place: an abandoned building Kira likes to find her solace in. Sonny gets to transition his creativity to design the aesthetics of the club. But he doesn’t let it get in the way of his passion for painting.
Don’t discount what you don’t understand. Kira took human form when she and her eight muse-sisters released themselves from a city mural. She knew her mission, and she filled it with great joy: She skated (yes, skated. Hey, the movie was made in 1980, okay?) up to Sonny, gently kissed him, and vanished. Later in the movie, she admits to Sonny she’s not had human feelings before, and this love-thing is messy and painful. Sonny doesn’t believe her, of course. And when she returns to Zeus, it takes a pep talk from Danny for Sonny to go in search of her. He knows he needs her, even if he doesn’t understand where she came from. He finds a way to find her.
Don’t limit yourself to what others say. Sonny’s boss told him to stop being creative. Just do what was expected of him. But Sonny couldn’t do that. He couldn’t color inside the lines all day, every day. Kira awakened that creativity in him again, and he again found the passion to create more than album covers. When Kira left, it would be impossible by earthly standards for him to reach her. But he stopped listening to the laws of nature, and listened instead to his inner self. He always knew he could succeed. And now that he was aware again, he also knew he needed Kira. And he did whatever it took to find her.
Go to the source. But the rules of the gods held Kira with Zeus, and he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, let her go back to earth. I mean, sure, it’s pretty impressive that Sonny didn’t smash into bits when he skated full-force toward the mural of Kira and her sisters. But love doesn’t conquer everything. Sonny plead his case, but had to leave without Kira. Everyone’s hearts were breaking. The point is, Sonny didn’t stop until there was nowhere else to go.
Not seeing is still believing. Sonny was without Kira. He was without his muse, his love. He could still be a creative. He just didn’t want to. What Sonny didn’t know, was that Zeus and his wife, Hera, were having a conversation of their own. They saw the good in Sonny, and how Kira made him better. They saw how being without Sonny made Kira sad. She was no longer capable of being an inspiring muse. And, remembering from long ago (or was it just a few minutes?), what true love is, they gave Kira back to Sonny. Only he just didn’t know it yet.
Change with the times. Okay, can we break for a minute and just talk about the fashion in this movie? And the weird, NuWave neon-clad characters? How did anyone think Gene Kelly in a bright Zoot Suit was an awesome idea, if even for just a moment? My point is, peeps, the visuals would not be the same if the movie was made today. But the message is. Sonny’s dream was to be a painter. Throughout the movie, he achieved that, in different stages. Danny’s dream was to feel needed. He thought he’d missed out on love. But being needed and being loved isn’t only romantic. And Kira? She just wanted to inspire people. In the end, she did so much more than that. And she did it so well, she was given the freedom to stay.
What do you think?
I’d love to hear from you: Leave a comment below and tell me what movies still inspire your creativity.
With a wild soundtrack and some serious no-one-is-looking dance moves,
Happy Creating.
~Molly Jo
Frankly, My Dear . . . Savor the Journey!
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Bohemian Hurricane
Molly Jo is a Southern Belle and known to her friends as the Bohemian Hurricane. She is the author/curator of The Unemployment Cookbook and several eBooks available on Amazon. Her work-in-progress, NOLA, is a full-length location mystery novel set in New Orleans, and the first in her City Series.
There I was, minding my own business. Or, rather, minding the business-business. Yup. I was in a team meeting when all of a sudden, instead of taking notes, I turned to the last page in my yellow pad. You know, the ones we all have at the office. They call them legal pads, although everyone uses them for everything. So, really. Shouldn’t they be called everything-you-need-to-write-down pads? (How’d I do with those hyphens, Mermaid?)
Frankly, My Dear . . . That One Time I Didn’t Have a Midlife Crisis
Anyway. Yeah. So I start a quick calculation of how much I owe. Like student loans. And credit cards. And car payments. And things like that. Then I figure what my house is worth. My small, older, fixer-upper house that I haven’t really been able to fixer-up like I would like. Is that a word? It is now!
Now, I’ve not usually been too good at math. I mean, I’m no rocket surgeon or anything like that. I’m more of a Words Girl. But, hey. I do know pluses and minuses. And I was liking what I was seeing. I wrote a few more numbers into the mix. Things like moving expenses, living costs, set up fees.
Then I wrote the date. And one word.
Pray.
I folded the paper and tucked it into my purse.
Flash-forward to a few discussions with trusted people, unofficial-followed-by-official notice at the office, two realtors, 52 hours, five showings, two offers, and one sale. And voila! Thirty-seven days later I’m driving into South Carolina. Well, actually, my awesome brother is driving as I’m trying not to fall asleep in the passenger seat because it was 1:30 in the morning.
I know to some people it seemed like a rash decision. A spontaneous, what-is-she-doing moment. But the truth is, we all know this has been brewing for nearly five years. I mean, poor Beckie and Spartacus. When we flew home from Blue Ridge in 2015 and I just cried all the way. It was the first time I’d not wanted to come back to California. Do a keyword search on the blog for Blue Ridge, and you’ll see just how much it’s affected my life. Seriously. It’s like, a lot.
The drive itself was worth it. Not that I’d want to do it every year, but hey. Now there’s a thought. I mean, who doesn’t love listening to Pet Sematary on Audible while driving a lonely two-lane highway at night? Or crossing the Mississippi River and stopping for a coffee at Graceland? Meteor Crater, Mojo Coffee, Cadillac Ranch, Tupelo, Atlanta. And old country music. Seriously. We have been the only two rocking out to Johnny Cash’s “I’ve Been Everywhere” but in the scheme of things, it was totally memory-making.
Not to mention I am now within driving distance of ohsomany people. We’re talking besties. Work and writing peeps. Church mentors. And did I mention my new apartment is located just down the block from Target, Hobby Lobby, and Cracker Barrel?
This is where I belong. With my writing community. With four seasons and leaves that change color and drop in the wind. With a balcony with a view. With coffee and friends and cable TV and the Hallmark Channel. There’s a crazy wonderful energy in the atmosphere out here. It’s my Bohemian Hurricane Territory, and I was made for such a moment as this.
Sure, there’s still a ridiculous amount of boxes to unpack and organize. I’m nowhere near finishing the second draft of NOLA. But I’m surrounded by like-minded people. And not just for five days out of the year. I mean,
This is my life.
And, well, It’s a Wonderful Life.
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!
Here’s a few photos from the past two weeks:
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Welcome Home.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : My New Morning View
Frankly, My Dear . . . : I collected a mug (or more) in every state we drove through.
Frankly, My Dear . . . Crossing the Mississippi
Frankly, My Dear . . . My New Mantra. And New Jewelry.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Greenville Falls Park
Frankly, My Dear . . . This Thing Called Mist
Frankly, My Dear . . . : A Window With a View
Frankly, My Dear . . . Look, Meowma. There’s a bird in the tree!
Well, I’d tell ya, but then I’d hafta kill ya. Ack! No. Sorry. Just channeling my sarcastic brother and our mutual love for covert spy movies. And comedies. Ohmagosh, remember the Princess Bride incident? Poor Mom had no idea what we were doing as each of her adult children started quoting the movie when we all came home for Christmas. #goodtimes Christmas. Yikes. It’s just over five months away and I’m so not prepared.
Ah, but I digress. So, yes. Back to the question. What have I been doing? Because I regrettably admit that which y’all already know: I haven’t been blogging. C’mon. Three posts since Blue Ridge? That’s just utterly, well, sadly lacking in the blogosphere, amiright?
Let’s recap, shall we? Blue Ridge is the writers conference I’ve been going to each May for the last four years. It’s where I met my best friends, discovered that I’m not crazy, just a writer, and also learned there’s nothing “just” about being a writer.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : That One Time I Remembered Water Seeks its Own Level
And then of course you’ve heard me talk about readjusting to “normal” life; except how can life really be normal when your Google history has things like “how to kill two people with one bullet” or other gross things I’ll spare my mom from reading here. [Let’s just say parts of NOLA will be pretty, uhm, authentic in their descriptions.]
I’ve had a hard time with NOLA all year. The first draft was written, then went nowhere but to the cobwebs. When I started to edit and rework it, something was missing. Sure, it was going along okay, but it was just too . . . complacent. “Hulloh?!” my brain said. “Anyone there? It’s supposed to be a murder mystery, right?! Do you even know what you’re doing?” And while my alpha readers are all telling me “Oooh, great story” “It really sucked me in” and whatnot, I’m telling me, “There’s something missing.”
So I stopped the distractions. I stopped doing so much that I could only write late at night. I started keeping notes, talking out the story, doing What If’s to get through writers block. I’ve read two books in four weeks. Okay, seriously, when have I ever allowed myself the time to do that?! But *gasp* it’s true what They say.
If you want to be a writer, you have to be a reader.
One of my favorite quotes from TV is Pride on NCIS:New Orleans (go figure!) when he tells his team, “Go. Learn things.” One of my favorite things about writing is learning how to present the story in a unique fashion. I’m basically just transcribing the movie I see playing in my head. That is the end goal, isn’t it? That NOLA will be so amazingly received it will be made into a movie? Uhm, #heckyeah.
Guess what. No, really. I want you to guess. Mom, stop rolling your eyes. C’mon peeps. What? Nope you’re wrong. Okay, I’ll tell you: Water Seeks its Own Level.
What does that even mean? Well, nutshell #yesplease: You can’t keep something where it’s not supposed to be. A light under a basket still shines, the stars through the clouds still glisten. Water cannot be contained when it’s meant to run rapids or lap softly at the shore.
But wait. There’s more: So here’s the water reference, right? And water is, what? Life-giving. Cleansing. Tumultuous. Peaceful. All of the above. It is also . . . ya’ ready? Part of a hurricane. There I said it. Yup. Does that not make it personal to me or what?!
I know, I know. This blog is too long already. Thanks for hanging in there and reading to this point. I’m almost done. Promise.
I’ve spent this time since Blue Ridge figuring out what my levels are. Am I drowning? Am I dehydrated? I heard those tiny shadow-voices over and over. You’ll never make it. You can’t be serious. No one believes in you. But I knew know those voices wereare wrong. Here’s a hint: no one knows you like you know you. So when you’ve got a flame inside that can’t be put out, fan it, honey. Let that fire grow and glow until those shadow-voices are dispelled. Surround yourself with whoever and whatever it takes to help you get from here to there to THERE. #justdoit
Water seeks its own level. And I’m a hurricane. And I’m a writer. Which means, I’ve been seeking my own level. I’ve spent the last month really figuring out where I belong in the Write World, and how to move NOLA forward, and all these beautiful mosaic life pieces are fitting together in a pattern I didn’t see because I was too close up. I’ve worked more on NOLA in the last week than I did the last four months combined. #wow
I took a step back. Slowed down the social media, the blogging, the whatever-needs-slowing stuff. And I saw (see) the bigger picture. I ain’t drowning, no way! I’m surfing, baby. All the way to the top of the wave. That’s what I’ve been up to.
Because that’s my level. And that’s where I belong. Wanna come along?
Where is your level taking you?
With music in my heart and pen in my hand,
Happy surfing!
~Molly Jo
I hope you’ll subscribe to my monthly newsletter. The July edition will be going out this weekend, with a focus on Shakespeare, springs, and songs. Interested? Just click on this graphic to sign up:
Frankly, My Dear . . . : Sign up for the Author, Etc. newsletter. Because there’s nothing “just” about being a writer.
