Posts Tagged Laura Donovan
Got a Kindle? Download “The Wingmen” for free tonight! Help me get it back in the Top 100!
It’s been great to receive so much positive feedback for my book “The Wingmen,” which will be free tomorrow only on the Kindle! Be sure to download and spread the word if you haven’t already done so, and thanks to everyone who has been really supportive this whole time.
If you weren’t a fan, I’m still interested in your perspective, so please feel free to share your thoughts. Do tell!
So what else have I been doing since publishing “The Wingmen”? Working on my new project, which I recently blogged about. I’m working a lot as well, and I’m also pretty excited about gym I just joined. Beforehand, I was part of a fitness center downtown, and it has been great to work out down the street. In addition to exercising, yoga-ing, and writing more, I’m also on a mission to eat better.
I recently had a terrible experience at the gastroenterologist, who I went to visit for stomach pains. She was very helpful but scolded me for being a ball of nerves and stressful person. We concluded that I could use a healthier diet, and I think I’m going to stop consuming white bread. As excited I am about the lifestyle change, I’m still reluctant to go to medical professionals, especially if they’re going to food and stress-shame me!
So this one time, I wrote a book. To be fair, it stayed with me over the course of six years, so it’s not like I spent one specific block of time working on the damn thing. 2013 was my year to finally get it out into the world, so I celebrate the fact that I finally took a risk and finished the job in January. I’ve felt like a new person ever since, and I’ve even started working on something else.
That’s another reason I was so eager to liberate myself of “The Wingmen,” which will always be close to my heart but belongs in the hands of readers as opposed to my own thoughts now: I have an idea for a YA series. Soon after publishing “The Wingmen,” I started writing drafts of this new project on notebook paper. By the way, that’s how it has to be with me. I need to start writing by hand, and if the feeling is right, I migrate everything to my computer. I typed out the first few chapters tonight, and so far, it’s going really well! I think I have a knack for YA, even though I could probably read more books of that genre for research purposes.
And you know how I’m going to acquire that voice? By re-reading my childhood favorite, “Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging.” I devoured the books at age 12 and was instantly obsessed. The last few books aren’t as good as the first, but that’s not unusual for a series. I’m going to order the first one, as I’m pretty sure my mom donated my dusty copy to our local library ten years ago. How sad is it that I’m trying to read my favorite book from seventh grade at age 24.5?
Do you have any other YA book suggestions for me? I’m all ears. Anything to educate myself on the genre, I’m kind of out of the game and I actually want to get an agent for this book (if all goes well, of course). Hey, it took the “Warm Bodies” writer three self-published novels before he landed a book deal, and the same could very well happen to me. I just have to keep moving, writing, and, most importantly, reading. Remember what Stephen King said in “On Writing”: if you don’t read, you don’t have the tools to write. Boom.
Did I mention he was my childhood idol? That guy is a writing machine if there ever was one. Truly a life force who doesn’t get hung up on writer’s block or self-loathing nonsense, which has gotten the best of me in the past. Not so much these days thankfully, but you never know when it could strike again. With the approach of spring, however, I doubt I’ll have anything to be morose about until at least September, a.k.a. hurricane season.
If another one of those psycho superstorms barrels through New York anytime soon, I may actually lose my mind. Our building is still without cooking gas thanks to Sandy, and we’re among the lucky. Some of my friends had to move out of their apartments entirely because of the storm. Others lost everything, including their lives.
Why am I talking about Sandy again? Don’t know, don’t care. Back to the point of this post: I’m stoked about this new project. No matter where it takes me, it feels good to have a new goal and focus in mind. This is a complete work of fiction and I need to spend a lot of time developing the characters, but I’m looking forward to getting to know them. I actually feel like I learn something new about each of them every time I sit down to write the story, and that’s how I know it’s worth pursuing. I’m not projecting any of myself onto these folks. They’re very much alive on paper, I’m just the agent documenting their situations and experiences. The opposite of “The Wingmen,” there’s absolutely no me in this story, and it’s awesome. I don’t want to write another book about my life stories until (and if, of course) I make more of a name for myself in publishing. At this point, I’m 24, and though I have some hilarious stories under my belt (most of which involve my childhood buds, Crystal, Nikita, and Lauren), I’d rather wait until I have some actual credentials to share these adventures with the public. I’ve given you the Reader’s Digest version of our wacky, totally unconventional and totally inappropriate childhood, but believe me, this blog doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface in that arena. But these are stories for another day, hopefully in the not too distant future.
So, even though I’ve got a couple more promotions and interviews set for “The Wingmen,” it feels great to direct my energy at something new and exciting, not to mention totally different for me. At the end of last year, I promised I’d get my act together in 2013. So far, I’ve kept my word. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be completely done with this project come December. Let’s just hope the process for whatever is next is much shorter than that of “The Wingmen.” Six years is a lot of time to sit on an emotionally draining book!
As you could probably tell, the whole “publishing a book” thing has really turned me into a crazy person. Well, a crazier person. Last week, “The Wingmen” saw huge success on Amazon, and I’m sorry to say it didn’t fare quite as well my second promotional day. Sad face.
Scratch that, I should really just pull up a photo of Grumpy Cat and shame those of you who didn’t write a review as promised. Thankfully, that job was done beautifully by a couple other people, who gave “The Wingmen” fair and glowing reviews. Thanks, guys!
As I’ve said before, I don’t care whether you loved or hated “The Wingmen” — your review would still be helpful, so if you want to take it to town, by all means knock yourself out. If you’d like to praise it, well, that would be cool, too! Here’s what most have said about it:
-The best character in the book is Carrie (agreed), a rude classmate who says inappropriate and nasty things for shock value but secretly has a big heart.
-Molly needs to have better self-esteem and not obsess over her undeserving ex-boyfriend (tell me something I don’t know, but teenagers are inherently flawed creatures. It would be weird if someone of Molly’s age wasn’t a little off or irrational).
-The greatest interactions are with Molly and her family, and as the story goes on, it becomes easier to understand why Molly had such a rough time letting go of her relationship with Jon.
-There are too many characters (I know, I know! Once I’m on a roll, I can’t stop).
-Molly is endearing and you want her to ultimately come out ahead, even though she makes poor life choices at times.
-The plot is really, really sad (so is life! Get used to it!).
That pretty much says it all Now get your free Kindle copy before the promo period ends at 3 a.m. ET!
I just did an interview for PM on the book, so be sure to check that out too! Thanks to my boss Elena for setting that up and being so supportive of this venture.
So here’s the deal: I’m doing another free promo for “The Wingmen” on Thursday February 28 and would love for you to download and review it if possible! You helped me make the top 60 contemporary fiction books on Amazon last week, let’s get me the #1 slot!
Who’s with me?! Because I love you all, I’ll include an excerpt below. One of my favorites too, not to mention the toughest emotionally to put in words. Decide for yourself whether this is the story for you (note: it’s told from the perspective of a 17-year-old high school girl):
“Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don’t.” – Stephen King, “Hearts in Atlantis”
Flashback: June 2005
I denied there was something off about our relationship for a long time, but I couldn’t ignore the emotional distance between us when he was away at his family’s summer home in late June the previous year. Our families had a thing for traveling during the warmer months, but we had different vacation schedules, meaning we had limited time together before his upcoming August move to the east coast.
Jon used to joke that our parents coordinated family trips together so we’d never have to be apart for too long. Still, it seemed like we were always saying goodbye to each other. So, when Jon stopped complaining about all the separation and didn’t bother getting in touch with me while at one of his summer homes, I began to wonder what was going on in his head and whether he was done with us.
Though days away from flying to southern California for UCLA acting camp, I was pretty squirmy in late June, which always brought about a mixture of feelings in me. You spend all year eagerly awaiting summer only to find that it can be a major source of boredom, at least in between big activities. Though thrilled to attend my upcoming UCLA and Boston University arts programs, I worried I wouldn’t see much of Jon beforehand, especially since he’d been in Half Moon Bay for more than a week and his dad had inexplicably extended their stay. I hadn’t thought much of it until my mom pointed out that the extension meant Jon probably wouldn’t get back to Santa Cruz to say goodbye to me before UCLA camp, and because his dad distrusted me, my mom suggested this was a calculated move to keep the two of us apart. At first, I thought she was reading too much into it, but started to feel nervous when Jon continued to ignore my text messages and make no effort to see how I was doing.
When four days passed without so much as a “hello” from him, I sent Jon a short text message, which of course went unanswered. Two days later, when I hosted a dance party at my house, I called Jon to give him some updates and say my friends and I wished he could be at the gathering. In the past, he would have laughed and thanked us for the sentiment, but that night, he barked at me for interrupting a conversation with his family members.
“Yes?” he said upon picking up the phone.
“Hey, it’s Molly.”
“Long time, no talk. How’s it going in Half Moon Bay?”
“Fine,” he muttered, and that was when I heard the chatter in the background. I recognized his father’s voice and knew I’d interrupted something.
“Are you tied up or something right now?”
“I’m with my family,” he said. “You should know this. I’m on a family vacation, Molly.”
“Obviously,” I replied, irritated that he had the audacity to criticize me for reaching out during “family time.” After all, he’d called several times during my March family trip to Florida and said the distance was too much for him. Now I was the inconsiderate nag for wanting to see how his vacation was going.
“I’m talking to my uncle and dad.”
“Okay, well, we can catch up later if you’d prefer,” I said.
“Yeah, I think I’ll go.”
“See you, Jon. Love you.”
After a pause, he responded with, “later” and hung up.
That was the first of many times he’d put me in a sour mood with his aloof tendencies and passive, short sentences. I found it odd that so few words could cause tidal waves of emotion to come crashing down on me. I knew my default reaction was destructive and unhealthy, but believed it was out of my hands.
Though wounded, I decided to set aside my concerns that night to focus on the dance party. I did, however, bring his peculiarity to my friends’ attention and even put him on the spot by dialing his number after we’d eaten three boxes of Round Table cheese pizza and downed several liters of Mountain Dew. We were all hyper on the phone, and while he was much more eager to engage in this conversation than the previous one, he dodged my “I love you” declaration when I said goodbye to him and ignored my text message inquiring why he’d stopped saying those three words to me.
I buried the confusion until sleeping bag time, when the majority of the girls collapsed on the floor of my bedroom and snoozed heavily. I’d climbed into bed with my best friend Erin, and because we were close enough friends to know the stage of the other person’s sleep, I nudged her with full awareness that she was awake enough to have a serious conversation, even if it had to start off with partially coherent sentences on her end and in-depth questions from me.
“Jon was especially cold with me today.”
“That’s not unusual. He has his ice queen moments, just like the rest of us.”
“Yeah, but things have been weird lately,” I said, rolling onto my back to look at the “Walk to Remember,” “American Idol: Season One Tour,” and “8 Mile” posters taped to my ceiling. “He’s dismissive and won’t say ‘I love you’ at all, even when I say it. How humiliating is that?”
“Well, if you think about it, Molly, nothing bad has really happened,” she said. “It’s just that nothing good has really happened since he’s been away, either.”
“That’s what I don’t get. He has always been happy to drown me with affection. The shift makes no sense.”
“You’ve been dating for more than six months now, though. The honeymoon stage doesn’t last forever, as we learned from my experiences with Corey, and you mauling Jon with texts and phone calls isn’t helping.”
She was dead on, but I didn’t think writing someone every four days was the same as hovering like a helicopter parent. Still, I nodded at her assessment, which essentially marked the end of that conversation.
Turning to face me, Erin propped herself up on one elbow and said, “Just wait it out. Let him come to you on his own terms. He loves you, so he will come around.”
Several minutes later she was asleep; but I remained awake for at least a half hour listening to her steady breathing as I thought about everything she and Jon had said, until my mind finally gave out.
Jon gave me the silent treatment for the next two days, and when I finally briefed my parents on the situation, which was either grave or a non-issue, they provided some possible explanations.
“Didn’t you say he gets no reception on the family house boat?” my dad inquired over dinner. “Maybe that’s why he hasn’t called you.”
“Yeah,” I responded, gulping down a spoonful of Rice-A-Roni without even chewing.
“I don’t know, I think it’s bizarre that his family kept lengthening the trip so Jon wouldn’t be able to see you off to UCLA,” said my mom, ever the distrustful cynic, which I was slowly but surely becoming.
What I believed and wanted to believe were two different things. My dad came up with the comforting possibility—that Jon hadn’t meant to blow me off, but was simply tied up with family matters on the boat. My mom told it like it was, but seemed a tad unreliable with her conspiracy theory. To get some answers once and for all, I excused myself from the dinner table, rushed to my bedroom, nestled into the far corner of my room, and called Jon. To my surprise, he picked up after two rings.
“You,” he said in a low voice.
“‘You’ can be anyone. Don’t act like you’re so special.”
“Very funny,” I said, waiting for him to speak up and ask about my day, or even to simply regale me on his own trip that was apparently so awesome he couldn’t be pulled away from it to talk to me, but there wasn’t a peep out of him for a solid minute.
“You rang?” he finally asked. By then, it was unclear whether he was being serious or joking.
“Just calling to see how everything has been,” I said, twirling my hair. “I hadn’t heard from you in a while and thought you’d forgotten you even had a lady back at home.”
“I’m enjoying myself a great deal. Lots of R&R and chilling out. I actually just got back from a game of tennis with my cousin’s boyfriend.”
“Oh, cool. Have you been on the houseboat at all?”
So my dad’s theory was ruled out. It was always a bad sign when he was wrong. That, I decided, would be the right time to throw Jon a curveball to figure out what exactly his deal was.
“Hey Jon?” I said after our second minute of silence. “I love you.”
Make that three instances of minute-long silence.
“Why won’t you say it back anymore?” I asked, peppering in some fake laughs to hide the level of my frustration.
After a pause, he answered, “Why do you need to hear it to know it’s true?”
“Okay, look. I’m not playing these games. Can you please tell me what’s going on with you?”
“It just dawned on me the other day that I’m going to be leaving soon,” he said. “I just don’t think I can love you anymore if I have to leave you.”
“Well, you’re not taking off for college for another month,” I said.
“It’ll come sooner than you expect. I won’t have the option of loving you anymore once I’m gone. We’ll be in different places,” he said. “I’ve just spent a lot of time thinking all this over the past few days.”
“I wonder if your dad anything to do with it,” I said, remembering his father’s Valentine’s Day interrogation tactics. “Considering all the time you’ve spent together on this trip.”
“He actually said absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Jon said. “He’s on your side, you know.”
“That’s a first.”
“Molly, this isn’t about him. My father had nothing to do with my overall view, which is that we just can’t do this for much longer.”
“So are you breaking up with me right now?” I asked.
“No,” he said after a pregnant pause. “I just think it’s best if we accept what’s coming.”
“Does that mean you don’t love me anymore?” I said.
“I honestly don’t know right now.”
“So when you said you loved me all those times in the past, you didn’t know what you were talking about?”
“I really don’t know, Molly.”
The conversation was going nowhere and becoming more pathetic by the second, so I ended it moments later and broke out into sobs, chucking my cell phone to the other side of the room and leaving it there all night.
Though I wanted nothing more than to keep this news to myself and show no trace of disappointment, I wound up telling my parents everything and asking for their advice. Besides, they’d known I was upset for a while and waited until we crossed paths in the living room to ask about my updates.
“Did you finally get a hold of Jon?” asked my dad, who was drinking a cup of herbal tea on the couch.
“Yup. He says he doesn’t think he can love me anymore because he’s moving in a few weeks,” I said.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” my mom said. “I can’t believe he’d do this to you the day before you’re supposed to leave for UCLA.”
“I completely forgot about that,” I said, running a hand through my hair as I remembered I needed to finish packing for my 11 a.m. flight.
“I have a feeling there’s more to the story than you’re getting, Molly,” my dad said as he plucked his car keys from the kitchen table. “Want to be my wingman?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, needing something sweet to take my mind off the confusion spinning through my head.
On the drive to Baskin-Robbins, I explained that Jon had essentially said he never really loved me. It was kind of awkward to share this information with my dad, who really didn’t need to know any dirty details of my relationship, but he kept a straight face and appeared unaffected by some of the cheesy parts of my story.
“How does that work, though?” I began. “How can you love someone one day and lose that feeling the next?”
“He’s in a rough place and doesn’t know what he’s doing. Don’t take anything he says seriously,” my dad explained, pulling into an open parking space in front of Baskin-Robbins. “But you know what? If he’s going to dismiss you like this, he doesn’t deserve you in his life, anyway. This is about him, Molly, not you.”
“That’s what everybody says when they want to hide the truth,” I said, hopping out of the car just as my dad reached for his leather wallet.
Though I gobbled my cup of Gold Medal Ribbon within five minutes of the BR employee serving it, for the life of me I couldn’t think about anything other than Jon that night. I wept silently in my bed until 3 a.m., when I decided to glance at my cell phone for the first time since shoving it out of my sight that evening. The only person to have contacted me was Erin, who called to ask if I wanted to see “Wedding Crashers” with her, Miranda, and Corey the following day. I’d already watched it in theaters, though. With Jon. I declined the offer and agonized that unlike Erin, Jon hadn’t tried to reach me at all.
I don’t know why I expected otherwise, but a part of me hoped he would have sent a follow-up note to give me clarity and peace of mind. Sadly, he wasn’t ready to calm my nerves yet, and as such, I wasn’t going to let him off easily. Using all available characters, I wrote him a series of emotionally charged texts informing him just how much he’d hurt me. I said I couldn’t believe it had been so easy for him to ignore me upon crushing my spirits and leaving me hanging. It was dramatic, but tiring enough to make me drift off to sleep. And I was relieved something did the trick.
Though it’d been a restless, text-free night after 3 a.m., I rose early the following day to finish stuffing my suitcase. Packing didn’t take long, so I climbed back into bed to get a little more shuteye before it was time to eat breakfast with the rest of the family. Just as I was about to doze off, I heard my mom and dad talking loudly in their bedroom. They hadn’t even bothered to close their door or speak in low voices, as they probably assumed I was still asleep, so I caught much of their conversation, which was all about me.
“I hope this doesn’t affect her camp experience,” my mom said. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll meet a nice guy there and forget about Jon.”
“Molly’s not like that. When she wants something, she fixates on it. I just worry this isn’t going to end well.”
Then my dad provided her with information he’d purposely withheld from me. Thanks to his own father’s work demands, my dad spent his final year of high school in Melbourne, Australia. It had been rough on all five Doyle boys to relocate from Westchester, New York to another country—the other side of the world, really—but my dad adapted after establishing a social circle and meeting a stunning sylph with long blond hair. They dated his entire senior year, but when it was time for him to return to the States to attend Fordham University, he realized how much he would miss that leggy, willowy Aussie.
Nevertheless, he ended things with her right before getting on the plane to Los Angeles and then New York. She actually accompanied him to the airport to see him off. Once the 24-hour flight had ended and my dad arrived at his dorm in the Bronx, he climbed into his twin bed and bawled his eyes out for two days straight, as he was certain he would never see his first serious girlfriend again. After all, they were basically in different worlds. He hadn’t seemed miserable during their farewell, but he missed her more than he could ever say or show.
That, my dad said, was probably similar to the way Jon was feeling. I liked my dad’s anecdote but doubted it was like my own reality. Jon didn’t seem upset at all, whereas my father was heartbroken to leave this special young lady forever. Though he could have very well been hiding his sadness from me, I knew Jon didn’t see me in the same glowing light in which my dad saw Aussie Girl.
I forced myself not to cry all morning, but threw a pair of oversized Pacific Sunwear sunglasses into my purse for the airplane, where I planned to mope in silence. I smiled all throughout breakfast, nibbled on my cream cheese bagel, and chatted with my parents on the journey to San Jose Airport. As we moved through the winding roads of Highway 17, I incessantly checked my cell phone for any new messages, only to find texts from Erin and Miranda inquiring how I’d been doing. They knew all about Jon’s change of heart and wanted to make sure I was going to be all right. Yes, I explained, I was great. I was about to spend seven days in Los Angeles with my godsister, Blakely.
It was actually my mom and godmother’s idea to have Blakely and me sign up for the acting program. We both enjoyed drama class and hanging out every summer, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity for the two of us to reconnect and put our performing skills to the test. I stayed at her San Diego house the night before the first day of camp so we could drive up to LA together.
Blakely, who was a year behind me in school, asked about my boyfriend within the first half hour of seeing me. Because I’d already gotten my sulking, crying, and pouting out of the way on the hour-long flight over, I had reached a point in which I could talk about everything without my eyes welling up. Besides, it was actually kind of cathartic to discuss my situation with Blakely rather than with my home friends and relatives.
After a stroll to the Carlsbad Baskin-Robbins, I explained to Blakely that Jon had said he wasn’t sure he could care for me on a romantic level anymore given our changing circumstances. He was at a crossroads. Blakely, who had never been in a relationship before, listened attentively and appeared to process the entire story, but she expressed doubt that Jon and I had ever really been in love in the first place.
“I know I’m a year younger than you, but you’re only sixteen, Molly,” she said. “How can you actually be in love at this age?”
“That’s a good question, but all I know is how I feel. I can’t, however, speak for Jon.”
“He’ll come back to you. Just wait.”
And he did. Kind of. While Blakely and I were out at the mall and ice cream shop, Jon left a message on my voicemail about tying loose ends and patching everything up. I had left my phone at Blakely’s house and listened to the message soon after returning to her room.
“Hey Molly, it’s Jon. I’ve decided I want to make it work. We need to talk about a few things, but I’d like to keep this going, so call when you get a chance and we’ll talk it up.”
There wasn’t much to make of the voicemail, and in need of a real explanation, I dialed his cell phone number immediately. Within seconds, Jon was on the line and far less curt than he’d been the previous week.
“I just wanted to say that I’d like to continue dating until I have to leave,” he said.
“Does this mean you were going to split up with me after returning from Half Moon Bay?”
“That’s what I intended to do,” he said with a sigh. “I figured I’d break it to you gently, but I don’t think that’s necessary yet. You just have to know that we can’t be together in a month’s time.”
“But why? Is there a reason you’re so against the prospect of dating me from afar?”
“It doesn’t work that way after high school, Molly. I’m starting a new life, and you need to wrap up your high school life without me,” he said. “When you wrote in my yearbook that you wanted to stay together after I left, I was at a loss for words. I never once considered this going beyond high school.”
“I signed your yearbook a month ago,” I reminded him, bringing images to mind of the two-and-a-half-page space I’d used up in tiny print. “Why didn’t you say anything about it earlier?”
“I put it off as long as I could until my cousin Brenna stumbled upon it and said I needed to sever ties with you immediately.”
This was kind of a shock. I was rather irritated that one of Jon’s female cousins would try to take control of the situation, but maybe that’s just what Jon needed. Someone to push him to do what he wanted most.
“Brenna was adamant about getting it over with,” he continued. “She had a similar experience in high school and wound up spending three months in bed because she couldn’t understand why her boyfriend had abandoned her.”
“I’m not going to spend three months in bed, Jon. That’s not what I do.”
“I just thought it would be easier for you to move on if I turned into a jerk. I’d rather you hate me than hate yourself.”
“Why would I hate myself?” I said, laughing even though his insinuation was far from humorous. Sure, I was a little clingy and obsessive but I wasn’t depressed, and he was beginning to speak as if I could not survive without him. I started to see why some of my friends had dubbed him arrogant.
“The point is we have to end things in a month. I’d appreciate you being on the same page with me here.”
“Sure,” I said, only half processing what he was saying. I felt so blessed to have him in my life for another few weeks, even if the inevitable split was going to be tough. At that moment, I didn’t have time for excitement or anxiousness, as I had to get ready for camp, so I explained to Jon that I needed to get off the phone.
“Good luck this week,” he said. “Let your comedy flag fly.”
“Thanks,” I said, hesitating before running the following words together. “Love you.”
After a pause, the line went dead and I was left with a dial tone.
He was much more receptive to “I love you” the next day, when he called three times and left two voice messages. I’d been away from the phone all afternoon and tied up with my camp itinerary, and because Blakely and I had different schedules, I spent a lot of time with some of the other kids, one of whom tried to hold my hand. Though unsure of where Jon and I stood, I didn’t want to spoil any semblance of a relationship with him by mingling with this boy from Louisiana, so I declined the southern fellow’s offer to take a late night campus stroll and retreated back to my dorm, where Blakely and I caught up about our day. With so much overstimulation and activity, the phone and Jon were far from my mind, and it felt great. The separation was actually liberating, even though it was nice to hear him say he loved me that night when I returned his call. While I appreciated that the feeling appeared mutual again, I didn’t understand him anymore. You never knew which Jon you were going to get: the generous, motivated political junkie or frosty future lawyer. For a while, I gladly accepted either identity, as I was content to have him in my life at all.
© Copyright Laura Donovan 2013
How many of you are as excited for February to end as I am? Why has this month felt so slow and painful? January was colder than February, so I can’t keep complaining that the weather’s doing it.
Regardless, February has been fairly good to “The Wingmen,” which y’all need to order and read if you haven’t already done so! Send your reviews my way as well, and get ready for my second free promo on Friday! Last time, you got me to #61 on Amazon…Get me to number one!
So, as Molly’s dad would say, “Will you be my wingman?” Please say yes. I’m actually without a wingman at the moment, and lord knows I don’t walk well alone, at least during colder months.
What else, what else? Oh, PM interviewed me about my joining the staff! Feel free to read and/or share, I had quite a fun time interacting with the commenters on my goals for the site. Some were surprised I call myself a conservative and read “left-leaning” publications such as Slate, The Atlantic, Jezebel, The Week, etc. Here’s what I have to say to that: I don’t believe in limiting myself, and it helps me to read the work of writers I don’t necessarily see eye-to-eye with. And, you know, I don’t exactly think all Republicans should be following WND 24/7. No thank you.
It’s only fitting that someone with my maturity level would get this for a book ASIN:
If you don’t get it…never mind.
With that, look at how well “The Wingmen” fared in the Contemporary Fiction and Teens sections! Thanks for helping me reach this all-time high, guys Now let’s get it to number one next week! Thanks again for all the downloads! Feel free to do it now if you haven’t had a chance yet.
All right, all right, I know you must be sick of all my gloating and shameless self-promotion, but let me ask you this: how would you feel if you carried a story around with you for nearly seven years, sent it out into the world before it could totally dictate (and ruin) the rest of your life, and developed a solid audience after immense uncertainty and reluctance? Relieved and free, and you’d probably annoy those around you at least a little bit.
Honestly, I’m just so glad to have this book, which has been haunting me since freshman year of college, out in the open. I’ve dreamed of this day thousands of times, and only now do I feel justified for all the times I thought people would actually crack it open and dive into the plot. Sure my book has some typos (so does “Fifty Shades”!), but it’s as done as it’ll ever be, and so far, I’ve heard nothing but positive things (although I welcome the negative, too!). My favorite comment comes from my friend/former coworker Heather, who says it captures the YA voice well. Several people say the main character Molly is charming and endearing, and that’s exactly how I wanted her to be perceived. She makes a lot of dumb choices in the book, but that’s part of being a hopeful teenager.
At any rate, today I participated in KDP Select’s free promo period, which made my book a top-selling teen and contemporary fiction book!
This was even cooler to see — that’s MY BOOK a few spaces away from J.K. Rowling’s novel:
Needless to say, I’m pleased, especially since I have a few more promo dates left and those will help keep my book at the top of the charts.
It’s not too late for you to download your free Kindle copy! Do it before midnight and I’ll love you forever.
So yeah, it’s really nice to finally set this story free. Now I have more time to work on my next project, which will be…God knows what! Stay tuned.
So, funny story: my friend became an Amazon bestseller after doing several free promo days for her book, “Unleashed: Live the Balanced, Centered, and Sexy Life You Deserve.” Because I’m a follower (and a huge Diana Antholis fan!), I’m copying her and offering the Kindle version of “The Wingmen” for free tomorrow only.
Please don’t make me bust out my puppy eyes again. I’m so done looking this pathetic and mousy all the time:
So, from 12 a.m. PST to midnight PST on February 21, you can get the Kindle version free of charge! Several e-book distributing companies are helping me promote, and you can assist by downloading!
And please do provide your input. I promise I can handle even the most scathing of reviews. Every ounce of feedback helps
I woke up this morning to see someone purchased 12 copies of my book overnight. I don’t know who you are, but I will love you forever!
For those of you who’d rather not spend your hard-earned money on my book right now (no sarcasm there, I totally get it), you may get a free digital copy on Thursday, thanks to Kindle Direct Publishing’s free promotional program, KDP Select. I’m going to be doing five free promotional days for “The Wingmen” in the next 90 days, so take advantage of one of them if you’re short on cash. Please return the favor by helping me spread the word