Before you say something, ask yourself whether you have earned the right to have an opinion.
Principles: Life & Work by Ray Dalio
Category: Insight
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Source: Stocksnap.io -
Yes! Six years…
It’s been six years since I started publishing on Smashwords. I am taking part in NanoWrimo this year and could not stop but look back at my writing and self-publishing journey over the years.
Here’s a break down of the titles published in each year and the number of copies that have been downloaded:
Year Titles published Downloads 2011 Dear Yellow Dear May
1045 752
2012 Say You Love Me If time is all I have
Ethan & Richard
The Absolutely Boring Life of Mya
Made for You
Last Heart Standing
From the Heart
The book of Abel
Dear Brian
I love you this much
Never forget me Leila
December
2652 185
648
2105
3435
1137
693
590
601
13511
710
1170
2013 Pieces I wanted to tell you
Only time will tell
The Single Diaries
Anna
Memories
1009 619
594
995
899
542
2014 Choose me 21 Days
What happened to us?
The perfect love story
Confessions of time spent with humans
1348 779
1732
1112
490
2015 Silence & Shadows Mist
325 604
2016 Roses and Lies The place you call home
284 87
If you are into numbers, my basic math tells me that it’s 40,653 downloads in a span of six years and if you’d have told me that it’s the number I’d be seeing years later, I would have not believed you. 2012 was a good year for it seems I wrote and published the most! After 2013, my ebook titles took an abstract turn and I ventured forth into other genres, taking a break from romance.
Since then I have ventured forth to Createspace, Pronoun and Amazon Kindle.
However, forget the numbers or the numerous platforms that have since then come to the reach of authors across the globe. This is a personal milestone for me. I am nowhere near where I envision myself and I struggle with getting there.
I struggle with Grammar, punctuation and hanging clauses…and in the blogging world, I struggle with getting the right headline and traffic. I post and let it be. It is something I started doing way back in 2011 and still haven’t grasped the subtle art of marketing.
Whenever someone tells me they love reading my blog or that they enjoyed reading a book I wrote, I simply nod and smile. I leave it at that. Honestly, it’s uncomfortable being praised and one percent (1%) of me feels great when I receive a compliment but the other ninety-nine percent (99%) wants to run and hide.
Have you been publishing on Smashwords?
Do you have an online platform that you can say was your first step into self-publishing?
I mean like seriously, I went from designing my ebook covers using picmonkey to canva and adobe creative suite!
One of the greatest challenge for me has been the distribution of my books especially those that I set out to be in both print and soft copy. Most of the readers, friends, or enthusiasts here in Kenya insist on getting the print copy. Since publishing in 2015 on Amazon, 5 people have bought the paperback copies via the amazon site. The rest are hesitant to go online and get the books shipped. I do ship copies but they are booked and paid for even before they arrive, mostly by strangers. Yes, it is true, family and friends are great support, but when a stranger invests in your work and loves it, you get even more people investing in your work.
I have a long way to go and maybe come the end of this month, my next book shall be available in both print and ebook versions.
Here are six things I’ve learned about self-publishing:
- You’ve got to write before you publish. This is the most important thing that has kept me going. Writers write there’s no shortcut.
- Self-publishing is not an automatic key to millions. It may take a while o be noticed especially on smashwords because a lot of people write and publish every second.
- Do not give up. Cliche right? Well, it’s as old and sound as gold, you keep pressing on.
- There are so many options when it comes to platforms for self-publishing and you’ve got to figure out which one to take. Do your research. Read through the comments, reviews and FAQs before you pick on one.
- If you are on facebook, twitter, instagram, or google plus be sure to share links to your work. There is a lot of information on the internet, so save your audience the time, and make it easier for them to get access to your work. Sharing is caring.
- Free is not always the best option.
Today marks six years and I have no clue as to what tomorrow holds for me, all I know is that I am glad that I went beyond the class compositions and project papers and actually created worlds using words.
Happy anniversary to me and a big thank you to Smashwords and Mark Coker for taking the initiative to create such a platform. You helped a Writer out and you continue to do so!
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She arrived home at seven o’clock. Jeffery was seated on the sofa with his legs resting on the coffee table. He nodded when she got inside the house.
“What are we having for supper?” he asked.
Belinda walked over to the children’s bedroom to say hello to Iman and Hakeem. They rushed to hug her when she sat on the floor each spouting words about their day. Iman had her father’s eyes and someone else’s looks. Hakeem on the hand was the adorable male version of her. He was the youngest and the sweetest. Jeffery had been talking about having another baby. He called it the curtain call. They could close the chapter on baby-making and raise the children. She listened when he talked and snuggled closer for a cuddle, but never forgot her pills. He was ready because he had earned a promotion and had signed a five-year contract. The words flowed into her ears, pitched a tent in her mind and then were discarded as soon as she woke up. It meant nine months of piling on weight, cracked nipples, wearing a diaper for six weeks postpartum, and of course the snide comments from him ‘you are fat,’ or sometimes ‘we need to sign you up for gym.’ When the baby cried, those first three months of hell, meant she would sleep in the baby’s room. Jeffery asking every morning, ‘Is there any way we can get the baby to stop wailing at midnight?’ He would have his breakfast, leave at seven and return at nine in the night. She never confronted him about Millie, the slim young thing he spent diaper money on. She never confronted him about his working hours for somewhere along the way, she’d learned that there were better things like watching him choke on a fish bone.
She led the way into the kitchen and turned on the gas. Hakeem and Iman climbed on the counter top like they always did whenever she cooked. “What are we eating tonight?” Iman asked.
“I am making rice and beans.”
“You know they are eating chapati in Gracie’s house and it was all she talked about on the bus.”
“I can make chapati on another day when Gracie’s mom is not making it so you can also tell her all about it.”
“Yes, she thinks that they are the only ones who eat chapati. I will show her.”
The children talked about their day each one taking turns to prove they had the best experience. Jeff turned the volume up and she did not see the need of shouting to get his attention. Iman helped her set the table and they sat down to dinner. She listened to their talk even as she did the dishes and tucked them into bed.
She took a quick shower and changed into her night dress then slipped into the bed. Jeff turned to her as she settled between the covers and said: “Mother is coming to visit us next weekend.”
Belinda looked into his eyes. He smiled and then kissed her hand, “goodnight,” before turning to face the other side pulling the duvet along with him. She stared at his back long after and slowly slid down the bed and closed her eyes to embrace sleep.
Ushanga: Chapter one was posted here
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You came to me.
I summoned you into my mind and you built a fortress when all I needed was a five minute consultation. It’s been days. You forged an alliance with my intuition, signed a treaty with my fears and sealed the bond with my hopes.
Intuition kept telling me that it’s all a trial. It is a test to see if my love is true, to see if I would be the one to pursue and seek first. It kept telling me to listen but I said “what if you are wrong?”
She said “What if I never shut up?”
Fear told me I might blow things out of proportion, make a mountain of a molehill, destroy a good thing.
Hope stayed calm saying “this too shall pass, besides you never know unless you address it.”
So, I picked up a book and added another layer of ice to my heart. When you’ve been single for a long time you are comfortable with the silence within. You are you. You walk around the house in pajamas, read books, drink coffee, listen to Lecrae, dance in your underwear.
So, dearest worry, before you get too comfortable in your fortress, remember that you were summoned. Whatsoever’s summoned can always be banished, I would bear that in mind, in fact, I would think about it and act on it.
Hope says “stay single, you’re better than this.”
I look at the time. It’s 3 am and I for one have no objection.
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How’s your week been? What did you do this week? Friday’s here and I can’t wait for tomorrow because well, I get to sleep way past six am.
My week’s been full of events and on Wednesday was a tough sail for me because I received a long email from a project I was looking forward to and the take on it was it’s got to be on hold till the political situation gets better. Well, that hurt, but I am hopeful that Kenya will get better because we’ve got to uphold our constitution. It also broke my heart to go on Facebook and read about the killings in Kisumu because no one deserves to be hit, insulted, belittled or killed for expressing their grievances. No one also deserves to be robbed of their income because of someone expressing their grievance.
On reading:
- I finished reading an interesting thriller on Tuesday. It follows Masha, a law intern at a police station in Moscow who looks into a serial killer’s patterns and unravels a mystery far beyond the country’s expectation and understanding. (Get a copy on Amazon)
- I also got stuck on Wuthering Heights. I’ll probably take some time off, listen to Tamar Braxton’s album Bluebird of Happiness and then get back to it when I can take the anger and bitterness portrayed.
- I am currently halfway through Trail of Broken Wings by Sejal Badani.
Google Images - I am still on the lookout for a great book to read. So, any suggestions are most welcome!
On writing:
- I am still working on Ushanga and it’s set for release at the end of this month, so that’s awesome.
- An idea for my next book popped to mind while I was working on Ushanga and that pissed me off. Don’t you hate it when you are finally writing a few words and a better idea comes and perches on your shoulders? So, I’ll draft an outline and see how it goes before I make anything of it.
- 11 days to NanoWrimo and I am not ready, but I’m looking forward to participating alright.
I guess that’s it for me so far. What are you reading this week?
To Kenyans, Happy Mashujaa Day 🙂
Have a lovely weekend.
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“You don’t know what it’s like…to be alone, to be lonely, sometimes it’s both.”
Stocksnap.io She shoves her hand in her pocket. I look away. I know she’s been biting her nails again and I see her lips too. She searches for me from across the room and when my eyes meet her’s; she smiles. We know I know and so, she takes out her hand from her pocket.
“It’s not that bad.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Why do you agree with everything I say?”
“Do I?”
“There you go again, asking a question instead of answering one. You are going to tell me that it’s about me and not you, but I know you. See, I’ve known you since form one and you are still as tiny as you were. Remember those days?”
“Yes and you were bolder then.”
“Well, you have no idea. Sometimes I want to claw his eyes out. He doesn’t know it and if he does, he is doing a good job at pretending that he doesn’t. I am tired, all these thoughts, if I leave then people would wonder why? If I stay they’ll say were are such a lovely couple, but there is nothing lovely about being lonely when you’re with the one you love.”
I pour myself another cup of coffee. She curls up in the sofa and smiles. Her eyes die with every stretch of her lips but I don’t tell her this. I don’t tell her that she needs to eat to bring color to her cheeks. I don’t tell her…
I am a coward because I know what it’s like to magnify one offense such that you are in season three of deception yet the one you love has no clue of their offense.
Unvoiced expectations= Unmet expectations= Frustration
“You are the only person I know who takes a whole flask of coffee and can still sleep for seven hours. How do you do that?”
“I’m a cat, sleep is very important.”
“No, you are a writer and a good one. Well, the only friend I know who writes. I hate this.”
“What exactly do you hate?”
“Being lonely and alone in my loneliness.”
I look at her and smile because she has said the very thing she knows is weighing her down. She smiles and before I nod in agreement, she cries…and I for one, let her.
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Is this…if your ringtone is John Mayer’s Heartbreak Warfare, I’m going to strike up a conversation with you. I am not declaring my weirdness, just the profound understanding of what that song means to me.
I was meeting with a group out of town today. I had just strapped myself in when one of the guys in the back shouts to someone outside, “Weh! Ali, simu yako…”I could have cared less but then it was Heartbreak warfare and all I could think of was laying my weapons down and turning to get a good look at this Ali dude. Ali comes back, looks at the caller ID and then says “wacha tu ilie,” and at this point I’m thinking it’s a conversation he is not ready for.
I dig that. I get that.
Two magic words: Airplane Mode
When I’m not down for anything be it a text, call, notification or beep, I set my phone on airplane mode and read a book or two. Sometimes, at night, if I am unable to write, I would look up random policies on children and read them comparing what each government has to say about child protection. (I find Singapore’s policy quite refreshing; but Liberia does take the cake when it comes girl’s education and gender bias and merging it with their basic education policy, that’s kickass if you ask me. I’m yet to read Japan’s but I feel like South Korea could be worth a read some night.)
Ali comes back to the van. The driver steps in and introduces me to the team. At this point, I know two things: they are working on health and sexual reproduction in a community and they need me to help them plan out how to reach out to the women and young girls. I am introduced to; Anne (Sociology major, cute glasses), David (Masters in Community Development, Unapproachable facade), Ali (Communications, hence the John Mayer vibe and I tell him that I was once a Communications Assistant at my previous job), Stella (Project Manager, the one who reached out to me) and then Humphrey (the driver whom I like, but know he’s the senior field manager and he’s just too modest to admit that he’s the boss). Stella is keen on clarifying that this is me just giving me a guideline and that I wouldn’t be employed by the organization they work for. She hands me some liability documents and I take them and sign them. Ali asks “won’t you want to read those?”
“No, I know my way around them. The only document I ever read is anything that deals with photo and video consent and it’s not here. So, this means that any photos you take of me while we are working would not be shared without my consent. Is that so?”
“Eh, I have the consent forms but I thought I’d give them to you once we are in the field.”
“Why did you pick heartbreak warfare as your ringtone?”
“Ati what?”
“Your ringtone, that’s John Mayer’s song Heartbreak warfare off his Battle Studies album. Why did you pick it?”
“I like it. Do people have reasons behind the ringtones they assign?”
“Yes, you just said you like it. I love that song. It’s cool that you have it. Can I take a look at the consent forms you had in mind for me?”
“Sure, let me just get them for you.”
At this point, Humphrey looks at me and smiles, “You are not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Someone taller, older or let’s just say a bit different and serious like most consultants are, but you are…easy to talk to.”
“Why do you say so?”
“Ali does not talk to anyone while we are driving. He would have his earphones on and listen to music the whole way, but you come along and suddenly he’s talking. I don’t know what to make of that?”
I nodded and we talked about everything including why it was important to buy bananas at Kisian and not Ndori. They dropped me off at home an hour ago. I wished them well but Ali jumped out of the car and reach out to me just as I was opening the gate. He dipped his hands in his pockets and leaned closer and said “I really like you. I mean, I like how you talk, but don’t get any ideas, it’s just that few people can…you know, speak, yaani hawawezi kuongea vile unaongea and that’s dope. Na, juu ya hiyo ringtone, well, sometimes you like someone and she’s not yours and it’s like war every time. So, see you next time, I’d love to hear your suggestions on a success story I’m working on. We could do something together, I mean…nitanyamaza sasa, bye.”
“Sure, bye Ali.”
I knew he was cool from his ringtone because you’ve gotta have something in you to set heartbreak warfare as a ringtone.
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The world is running. I cannot catch up. I cannot hold my breath, sprint, run and watch it as it spirals into a dimension that is.
Slow down.
The world is running, but will it run out of breath?
I wonder, what world am I talking about? What do I mean by running, because as it stands, I am the one whose feet are in motion. They move faster than I can get my mind to sit still. They run away from…
They run and for a long time, I have endured and lived for the thrill of it. Running, or getting out of a situation because it was the easiest thing to do. Emotions are complicated, feelings can be summoned and then hurt and then what?
Slow down
Listen, laugh, love, live.
Live.
Slow down.
So, here I am, taking a break; staying when all I want to do is call things off and walk away. I am giving myself a chance. I am reminding myself that I too can take a break because there is no fun in running into a wall.
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I have been held captive for years in my writing. There is always this burning desire to achieve literary merit. I want to write a storm, to unravel a mystery using twenty six letters of an alphabet that I was taught for sixteen years. Fifty thousand words, a cover image, immense praise and mega sales of a bunch of twenty six letters.
I have been here long enough.
I do not hold a candle to Mandela but all these years have me coming back to the same place that torments me; constantly telling me that I am not good enough or African enough.
Isn’t it sad that humans struggle to be enough when they are more than enough?
Maybe I could relocate to another country, write about my experience there and then it’d be this African author in a foreign country, but I am too proud to attempt that. I’ll miss royco, trips to Kibuye market, matatu rides and being around people of the same skin color as me. I’d give a lot for great and fast internet connection, no pot-holes, concerts but then I’d miss out on never having to be the object of stares, and frankly speaking, Fanta Orange tastes awesome only in Kenya. I tried that and it back fired so I’ll build a fortress here and use the words I know, the lyrics that come close to my heart to keep these prison walls from closing in.
I am half in, half out.
Every time a story unravels in me, I return to this prison, these walls choke me into either misery or bliss depending on which path I choose. They close in and when I come up for air. A star is enough to send me back under, five stars, a mile high up.
I am half out today. I need to see the world beyond these walls that I’ve built for myself and in so doing, I’ll admit that I am a repeat offender because come dusk, I’ll be back within these walls wondering if my stories are African enough…and the best part is knowing that I am both the prisoner, the warden and the law…I only have to embrace one role.
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I did not get a good night’s rest because I took my worries to bed. They got so comfortable that I found myself sitting on the cold floor listening to Sam Smith’s In the Lonely Hour album. How’s your week been? What did you learn, fret about or simply put enjoy this week? On writing: I am still working on Ushanga. I have got a few chapters and phrases to work on. On reading: I have read some awesome books and right now my attention is on Ice Homme (Book 3, Valdaar’s Fist Series) by Vance Pumphrey. I also tend to read two or more books at a time when I am faced with an intense work of fiction. Sometimes the kind of breather I take from such intensity comes from reading a romance novel or short story. I have covered a chapter or two into these three books, but it’s safe to say that I look forward to reading these three to the end.
Other updates:
- I tried a detox plan this week and failed the first day by taking a cup of coffee.
- It seems as though my kinky hair will be free from braids for another week. 🙂 I don’t know what I’d do without conditioner. I took to my friend’s advice, got an avocado and some natural yoghurt to make some treatment paste.
- I ate the avocado.
- I will use the yoghurt to make a chilli paste because today is bhajia Saturday!
- Started out my Monday by visiting a close friend, babysitting and running back home to avoid clashing with demonstrators on the streets.
- Received news from YALI stating that the program I was looking forward to had been postponed to June next year. I sank in my chair, reached out for some tea and just sat there wondering why of all that is good and evil, such a thing could come to pass!
- It’s taking me a while to get better for I’d struck a nerve when I stepped on Bonnie’s bone and so I have days when I can walk with ease and those days when I have to set an ice pack on the sole of my foot for ten minutes and follow it up with pain killers.
Have a lovely weekend.
nilichoandika 