Thanks for letting us
interrogate you! Can you give us a go-for-the-gut answer as to why you
wanted to be an author?
I don’t remember not wanting to be an author. Since I was
in the second grade or so, I’ve been writing stories and looking for adventures
to write about. During summer vacation, I’d get up, pack a peanut butter
sandwich and roam the neighborhood with my notebooks so I could write the down.
I remember in fifth grade when we had to tell the class what we wanted to be. I
was so embarrassed to say an author. Why did I know at age 10 that it seemed
presumptuous to write books and have people read my words? I worked as a
journalist, a job that paid the rent and allowed me to write every day, but I
felt novels percolating that needed to get out. So I let them, and hopefully,
readers find nuggets of wisdom or emotions that they can connect to in my
writing.
Tell us (we won’t tell
promise!) is it all it’s cracked up to be? I mean what are the perks and
what are the demands?
Perks? On Wednesday afternoons
I get to put aside all my other work and head to the local coffee shop to write
along with other writers. I get to go places in my imagination that I might
never visit in real life. And the places that I love on vacation, I get to live
in them even when I’m not there by sending my characters there.
Sometimes I hear from fans, actual
fans of my book, and that is gratifying. And the other day, I received an email
from an author whose book has sold millions and he congratulated me on my
novels, so I suppose that’s a small level of fame.
As for the demands, if I don’t
sit down and write that novel, it won’t happen. Writing alone can be a little
tedious. Also, the editing and the marketing, the social media and the press
releases are all on my shoulders since I self-published.
Which route did you take –
traditional or self-published – and can you give us the nitty gritty low down
on what’s that like?
I self-published and my books
are available on Amazon in both ebook and paperback. You’ll also find
paperbacks at Barnes & Noble along with other booksellers.
When self-publishing, the most
important thing is to make sure the book is ready. Readers will judge the
author based on the book. If the story isn’t entrancing, if some punctuation is
incorrect, if the cover is cockeyed, readers may put the book away. All the
writing, editing and marketing falls on the author.
And, of course,
self-publishing doesn’t come with the perks of traditional publishing. Our
local newspaper, which I’ve written for, won’t review my novels because I
self-published. I imagine that wall will come down someday.
What’s the snarkiest thing you
can say about the publishing industry (e.g. rejections, the long wait, etc.)
I once got a teeny tiny
rejection from an agent. The whole paper fit in the palm of my hand, but I can
appreciate saving resources.
The reason I decided to self-publish
came after a response from an agent and her assistant. They were in New York,
and I figured they were around 22 years old. They loved the plot, my writing,
the characters, but… they didn’t think people would be able to relate to the
problems the main characters had. In the midst of dealing with teenagers
growing up, going off to college, dropping out of college, making bad
decisions, the women weren’t sure what to do with their own lives. The agent
and her assistant’s responded that they thought that was kind of sad. And I
blew up. Yeah, it’s sad, but it’s also reality for so many women who’ve devoted
themselves to raising kids and suddenly find their nests’ empty. That’s when I
decided maybe New York agents didn’t understand the average, aging woman, and I
self-published.
Tell us for real what
your family feels about you spending so much time getting your book written,
polished, edited, formatted, published, what have you?
My kids are older now, and my
husband is a saint about helping around the house, so they don’t complain. My
dad reads my novels, and each time he’s convinced that I’m writing about myself
and he feels too much pain for the characters.
What was the craziest or
insane thing that happened to you in the book publishing process?
Because I self-publish, I need
to have strong editors and proofreaders to make sure my books meet high standards.
In my most recent novel, I preset the publication date on Amazon and added a
document with mistakes to be a place holder. I planned to replace that file
with my perfect manuscript after my final edits. I had hired a proofreader who
told me she would be finished by a certain day. I set the publication date for
a week later. She updated me and said it would definitely be ready a few days
late. You’ve probably guessed by now that she never completed the proofreading.
When I ran to Amazon to change the publication date, the deadline had passed
and I couldn’t even replace the mistake-ridden file.
In tears, I realized that
people who had pre-ordered my novel would get that draft. I watched the clock,
waiting for the novel to be published so I could replace it with a cleaner
version. That taught me about hiring reliable editors, and not to promise my
novel before it’s ready.
How about the social
networks? Which ones do you believe help and which ones do you wish you
could avoid?
Blogging and connecting to
book bloggers seems the most helpful. I made those connections before I
published my first book and a few complimentary words from a book blogger can
help boost my book sales. I also have an author Facebook page and run ads with links to my book, which helps. On Goodreads, I’m able to connect to
readers more easily, which is always fun.
Book sales. Don’t you
just love them (or lack of?)? How are you making the sales happen for
you?
Yes, book sales are
exciting – for both the money and the proof that people are actually reading my
words. Most of my sales come from Amazon, so when I set up my novel to sell
there, I carefully researched the subcategories. When my book pulls up into the
top 10 or top 25 in a subcategory, more readers will notice it and that will
increase my sales.
My book is listed with Amazon
Prime as well, which means that members can get it on their Ereader free
through Amazon Prime. In the past, I got notified how many times people
downloaded my book. Just this month, Amazon Prime started keeping track of how
many pages people read. Seeing people read thousands of pages in a day feels so
exhilarating. I keep checking my numbers.
What is one thing you’d like
to jump on the rooftop and scream about?
I’d love to jump on the roof
and scream with excitement that I have moved to the South of France, and
someday, maybe soon, I will. I’m obsessed with France and anything French –
books, movies, food, blogs, the language. My husband and I plan to move to France,
and maybe we’ll even run a bed & breakfast like the characters in my novel The Summer of France, but that will be
the only similarity.
About The Book
Title: The Summer of France
Author: Paulita Kincer
Publisher: Oblique Presse
Publication Date: July 1, 2013
Format: Paperback / eBook / PDF
Pages: 255
ISBN: 978-1300257332
Genre: Women's Fiction / Travel / Adventure
Buy The Book:
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-summer-of-france-paulita-kincer/1113110596?ean=9781300257332
Discuss this book in our PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads by clicking HERE
Book Description:
When Fia Jennings loses her job at the local newspaper, she thinks she'll have the chance to bond with her teenage twins. As she realizes she may be too late to create the perfect family, she's saved by a phone call from her great Uncle Martin who operates a bed and breakfast in Provence. Uncle Martin wants Fia to venture to France to run the B&B so he and his wife Lucie can travel. He doesn't tell Fia about the secret he hid in the house when he married Lucie after fighting in World War II, and he doesn't mention the people who are tapping his phone and following him, hoping to find the secret.
Book Excerpt:
Fia
The quiet of
the house mocked me as I rummaged
through the Sunday paper looking for the travel pages. I ignored the
meticulously folded “Help Wanted” section of the newspaper and the yellow
highlighter that my husband had placed on the counter to remind me that I’d
been unemployed for two months and needed to find a job – soon. The ring of the
kitchen phone saved me from isolation and from a job search as the thick accent
of my aunt came across the crackly line inviting me to move to France.
After a few sentences in the language that Aunt Lucie
considered English, she handed the phone to my great uncle Martin, and I heard
his booming voice.
“Fia?” he called as if using a bullhorn rather than a
telephone. Uncle Martin, the baby of my
grandfather’s family, ventured overseas as a teenager to fight in World War II,
found a French wife, and stayed.
I’d never traveled to France to visit him, but Uncle
Martin always came home for the family reunion at the beginning of summer.
Hearing his voice on the phone, I glanced at the wall
calendar, assuring myself it was late June and Uncle Martin’s visit had ended
nearly two weeks before.
“Uncle Martin! What a surprise. How’s life in France?”
I asked in a quiet voice meant to encourage him to lower his volume.
Uncle Martin continued to bellow. “Look, Fia, let me
get right to the point.” He hadn’t lost his American directness. “Lucie and I are tired.
We
need a break, maybe a permanent break.”
“What?” I gasped my voice growing louder to match his.
“You and Aunt Lucie are…but you can’t be…you can’t break up?”
“No,” I heard his old man grunt across the phone
lines. It sounded as if he said something like “Zut!”
“Listen. Don’t jump to conclusions,” he chastised me.
“We’re tired of working so hard. We’re old and it doesn’t look like any of
Lucie’s relatives are gonna step forward and take over. That’s why I’m calling.
Will you and Grayson come over and run this place?”
“This place” is what Uncle Martin always called the
eight-room bed and breakfast that he and Aunt Lucie ran in a small village in
Provence. Lucie’s family had owned the home for generations, wringing olive oil
from the trees and wine from the grape vines. But as big cities and ample
education called, the younger branches of the family moved away. When Uncle Martin
and Aunt Lucie found themselves the only ones living in the big, old house
during the 1970s, they decided to capitalize on a tourism boom and turned the
house into a bed and breakfast. They encouraged American and English tourists
to stay, and, after A Year in Provence came
out in 1990, their business exploded with people who wanted to see the land
that Peter Mayle described.
“We thought you could take over,” Uncle Martin blared,
“obviously, since you’re not working.”
Thanks, Uncle Martin, for reminding me again of my
current jobless status. When a huge
conglomerate bought our local newspaper and combined resources with the paper
in the next town, I became superfluous. So, after years of writing about home
design, I sat staring at my own shoddy decorating. I tried to look on the
bright side. Now I actually had time to try some of those design tips. To add
depth to the alcove next to the fireplace, I painted it a darker color. Next I
added crown molding around the opening from the living room to the dining room.
So far, mostly, I spent my time trying to stay
positive so an amazing job would find me,
and I watched cable TV shows about happy families. Who knew The Waltons was on five times a day? Mix
that with the Duggars, that family with 19 kids on TLC, and my days just flew
past. I slowly realized that driving my kids to sporting events and
extracurricular lessons did not count as quality time. Inspired by those TV
families, I amplified my efforts to pull my 14-year-old twins closer. When they
ambled home from school, I’d suggest some family activities. “Let’s draw a
hopscotch on the driveway!” I’d say. Their eyes rolled wildly in their heads
like horses about to bolt. “How about making homemade bread together? We can
all take turns kneading? Or maybe an old fashioned whiffle ball game in the
backyard?”
They suggested we go out for pizza or visit a sporting
goods store for new soccer cleats or swim goggles. I declined, picturing the
credit card bills I juggled now that I didn’t have an income.
Bills. Ooh! I couldn’t see Uncle Martin’s invitation
to France winning approval from my husband, Grayson, who had just been
complaining about money.
As a two-income family, we had paid bills on time and
planned our next extravagant purchase. Of course, my pragmatic husband, the
almost accountant, never used credit cards. But with my own income, I wasn’t
that concerned about using credit cards. When I started to run a balance, I
made the minimum payment every month. No need to inform Grayson who would’ve
disapproved of my indulgences. Not that I bought things for myself. Nothing but
the best for our kids with their private swim clubs, technologically engineered
swimsuits, travel soccer teams, and state-of-the-art skateboards. I hadn’t
bothered to save for an emergency but spent and charged as I went along until
the bottom dropped out of journalism.
“Uncle Martin, you know we’ve always dreamed of
visiting you and Aunt Lucie, but without a job now, I just… I can’t see it
working financially.”
“I’m not talking about a visit,” his voice grew
agitated. “I’m talking about you moving in here and running the bed and
breakfast. I’d send the plane fare to get you here. You, Grayson and the
twins.”
I sat stunned for a moment, so Uncle Martin repeated
himself.
“I’ll send you the tickets. I’ll just buy them online
for you, Grayson and the twins. Both of them.”
My kids were always “the twins,” as if sharing a womb
14 years earlier made them one entity for the rest of their lives.
“Whoa. That is heavy stuff,” I slid onto the swiveling
bar stool. “We can’t just move. Leave our house, school, Grayson’s job.”
Even as I said it, I felt hope rising in my chest.
Yes! I waited for a job to come to me and it did. A spectacular opportunity. I
pictured myself in a flowing skirt and low-heeled, leather sandals walking
along a dusty road away from the market that would line the village streets.
I’d carry a canvas bag with French bread jutting from the top as I headed home,
the pungent fragrance of a cheese wafting from the bottom of the bag. Although
I’d never been to France, I watched any sunny movie set in Europe. The women
always wore skirts and had leisure time to linger along the roadside, smelling
the lavender.
I heard the front door slam and my husband’s heavy
footfall in his casual Sunday topsiders as he came in from the office. Even on
a Sunday, the work at Grayson’s accounting firm was plentiful.
I turned my back on my approaching husband and said
into the phone, “When are you thinking, Uncle Martin?”
“I’m thinking… NOW. Last week,” Uncle Martin’s voice
rose again. I cupped my hand over the phone to try to smother the sound of his
bellowing. “I’m tired of dealing with these snippy tourists. I want to roam
around the world and give other innkeepers a hard time.”
“You make the job sound so enticing,” I tried to laugh
lightly so Grayson, who was drawing nearer, wouldn’t realize the importance of
this conversation. The idea began to form in the back of my mind: We could make
this happen -- with a little cooperation. I shot a hopeful glance toward
Grayson as he walked in the room. I quickly raised my eyebrows twice, which I
thought should give him an indication that good news was on the phone. He
looked grim and tired – the horizontal line between his own eyebrows resembled
a recently plowed furrow.
“Look, I’ll have to call you back later,” I hissed
into the phone and punched the button to hang up as Grayson threw his aluminum
briefcase on the island. His look turned from grim to suspicious.
“Uncle Martin,” I said with a blasé wave toward the
phone. “He has a business proposal…”
I tried to sound nonchalant, but I guess my eagerness
showed because Grayson dropped his head on top of his briefcase for just a
minute before he stepped toward the cabinet over the refrigerator. He opened
the door and pulled down a bottle of Scotch.
This conversation might prove more difficult than I’d
anticipated.
Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kCyorexMfo
About The Author
Connect with Paulita:
Author Website: paulitakincer.com
Author Blog: http://paulita-ponderings.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/paulitakincer
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/PaulitaKincer
Virtual Book Tour Event Page
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