Downton Abbey, Barnes & Noble, and Me

by Carola Dunn

A few weeks ago, my editor told me Barnes and Noble had picked my 19th Daisy Dalrymple mystery, Anthem for Doomed Youth, to be part of a nationwide promotion for Downton Abbey. Yes, I was excited!

The third season of the popular series is set in England between the wars--WWI and WWII, that is. Besides books about the period, B&N were looking for novels set at that time. They planned to have 5 or so copies of each chosen book on display near the checkout counter, in every store in the US. St. Martin's was to do a special reprint of the paperback edition for them.

My editor said the four-week promotion was to begin on January 8th. So on the day, I trotted along to the local store. I must have circled the store 3 times before I decided I just wasn't going to find the display. All the booksellers were busy, so I came home disappointed and tried to call them. Impossible to speak to a Real Person, or to leave a message, or even to stay on hold. At last, later that evening I got through.

The person I spoke to had never heard of a Downton Abbey promotion. He looked it up on his computer, and couldn't find anything that mentioned it. :-( 

I emailed my editor. I also asked my Facebook friends to pop into the nearest B&N if they happened to be passing and see what they could see. My editor contacted Macmillan's "B&N person," who promised to get onto it.

The responses I had from FB friends were not encouraging:

"There is a Downton Abbey display here in Naples, FL, but no Anthem for Doomed Youth."

"Checked the store in Fort Gratiot, MI. No Downton display but Anthem is on display in the new Mystery section."

"This was unfortunately the case last night at the W. 82nd location in Manhattan as well. I had called ahead and put Anthem on hold, but before I retrieved it, I sought out the Downton display to check out what else they had out. I found it on the endcap of the aisle that contained Mystery. So when I didn't see Anthem on display, I found it only a few feet away. I feigned ignorance tho just so I could ask an employee to find it for me and then mention I thought it was part of the Downton promo. I doubt it did any good, but I did want to mention it to them. Still glad to have a brand new copy of Anthem, which I hadn't read yet, but it was disappointing."

"I found the Downton Abbey display at the Ithaca Barnes & Noble - it was about 7 books on an endcap (no "Anthem"!). I caught a fellow and asked where the "Anthem" books were. He pulled out a paper with the particulars about the display, and it didn't include yours. He checked the computer and they had 5 new "Anthem"s, it said they were supposed to be in a "Cash Wrap" (?) "up front". We found them stacked on a desk; so I don't know where they are going to end up. But I did impress upon him that all your "Facebook friends" would be looking for the "Anthem"s." 

And have to laugh at this one, I guess: "Went to B&N in Woodland Hills yesterday and they were gone. Had been there just before Christmas. The sign said they closed 12/31/12."

I forwarded all these and more to my editor, at his request. Whether they helped or not I don't know, but I'm very grateful to all those who took the time to check. Three cheers for Facebook friends!

On Sunday, I returned to the local (Eugene) store. There was Anthem, right by the cash registers, with a selection of other books set in the time period! I asked if they'd like me to sign them, which they did, and even dug out some of my other titles for me to sign.

When I got home and turned on the computer, there was an email from my editor--he had found the same in his local B&N.

I'm not sure what the moral of this story is. Be patient and they'll get around to it? Or persistence pays--keep bugging till they act?

One way or another, I'm happy to announce that if you go into a Barnes and Noble store in the next few weeks, you may--or may not--find a Downton Abbey promotion that includes Anthem for Doomed Youth!

Read about the book here: 
http://caroladunn.weebly.com/1/category/anthem%20for%20doomed%20youth/1.html
  (scroll down a bit)

Or read an excerpt here:
http://historicalfictionexcerpts.blogspot.com/2013/01/anthem-for-doomed-youth-ii.html 

It's also available as an ebook.

A Powerful Image

By Mark W. Danielson

This isn’t my photo. I borrowed it from a Facebook friend. I’m posting it here because of the powerful images it provokes. Better than the best prose, this picture speaks volumes because it captures our hearts. Why is that? Is it because of the eagle, the cemetery, or both? Let’s start with the eagle.

More than a symbol of the United States, the American Bald Eagle is perhaps the most majestic bird in existence. A master of air and fierce hunter, one cannot help being in awe. We normally see this bird soaring or attacking with its talons out. Perhaps this is why it is so heartbreaking to see it perched atop a tombstone in a veterans’ cemetery.

Even without the eagle, this cemetery photo is chilling as we imagine the young faces of those buried in the endless rows. Futures denied and future generations lost because of war. In the background, the mist and low sun forge a solitary setting. Add the perched eagle and eyes start to well.

What makes this photo especially interesting is how the eagle hides the veteran’s religious affiliation. Without realizing it, this bird demonstrated that people of all denominations die in the name of the sword, but in the end, dead is dead – at least in our dimension. No political rhetoric or medal can change that for these veterans, but even death cannot strip them of the honor. This is what these cemeteries are for -- to pay homage and honor their memories.

If I was teaching a writing class, I would ask my students to write a short story about this photo. No doubt some would share tales of their loved ones while others might debate politics. Certainly whatever stories they share would be extremely personal and touching. I would than ask them to write a brief description of this this photo. Some may pronounce it the bite of approaching winter while others may pray for eternal peace for those who died for their country. But since I am not a professor of creative writing, I am opening this up to our blog readers. What, exactly, do you see in this photo, and can you describe it in a sentence or two? The challenge is yours.

Reflecting on a Milestone

By Chester Campbell

Yesterday was my birthday, and I was overwhelmed by all the good wishes I received on Facebook. I'm not a prolific Facebooker, maybe once a day, sometimes not at all. But it's heartening to bask in my moment of glory at the passing of another milestone. Actually, the dictionary defines milestone as an important event, a turning point. When you're in your thirties or forties, another birthday coming along may seem a bit bothersome, but at my age you wear 'em with pride.

Hey, I'm still here.

Coming so close to Thanksgiving, my birthday was a time to look back and be thankful for all the friends I've known, the people I've met, the places I've seen, the things I've accomplished and, most of all, the family whose love I have experienced.

I thought about Johnny Green, my early boyhood best friend, who didn't make it past his forties. We did a lot of wild things together, like riding our bicycles to the Nashville airport (without our mothers knowing, of course) and paying five bucks apiece to fly in an open-cockpit airplane. This was back in the thirties. I reminisced about my high school and college buddy, Dan Leech, with whom I did equally outrageous things. Dan had a Model A Ford he'd gotten from his grandfather. When we were at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, we'd drive it home and back. Traveling U.S. 70 late at night, we'd turn off the headlights and navigate the winding road by moonlight.

As a newspaper reporter and later a local magazine editor, I met countless people both important (at least in their estimation) and ordinary. While working for a PR agency, I wrote a campaign brochure for Dr. Winfield Dunn, who went on to become governor of Tennessee. I worked on it with his campaign manager, a young lawyer named Lamar Alexander. Lamar went on to become governor, and I was impressed that whenever I saw him, he always called me by my first name. I haven't seen him in years, but he's now one of the most influential Republican senators.

I did numerous interviews as a reporter. One I remember distinctly was with the violinist David Rubinoff, better known as Rubinoff and his Violin. He had come to Knoxville to play with the symphony. I walked into his hotel room, introduced myself and he started talking. I don't remember if I said anything else but "thanks" before leaving, but he was a tour de force. He insisted on giving me a little violin-shaped card with his autograph. I probably still have it somewhere.

Among the not-so-eminent, by normal standards, people I've encountered was a man whose name I can't recall. He wandered into my Sunday School class one morning looking for a cup of coffee. He was dressed in jeans and a clean but well-worn shirt. This was several years ago before such attire was common in church. He told us he was homeless. He was fairly new to Nashville and had lived with another guy but moved out. He joined us for several Sundays. We kept him in coffee and donuts, when we had 'em. Eventually he moved on and we never heard from him again.

I've had lots of friends who enjoyed life as they found it, never making it big, but never having the desire to. A lot of them are no longer around, which happens when you keep on having birthdays. We joined another Sunday School classes when the old one dwindled to nearly nothing.

I saved the family for the last, though it really comes first. After the mother of my children died, I remarried. Sarah brought along two children, three grandchildren, and now three great-grandchildren, to add to my four kids, eight grandchildren, and one great-grandchild. When holidays like Thanksgiving come along, it's pandemonium at our house. Fortunately, lots of people bring food, so Sarah doesn't do a lot of cooking. We had 26 people last Thursday, and it's a good thing nobody called the fire marshal. All of my crowd wasn't there, with a son and his family in Pennsylvania and a daughter around Atlanta. We'd've had to move into the garage if they had been.

The youngest member of the family is Link (don't know why they spell it that way, his name is Lincoln). He turned two yesterday, on my birthday. His mother and dad threw a party for him on Sunday. So I wouldn't be left out, they had a small cake with "Chester" on it and one candle. I extinguished it with one puff. Forgot to make a wish, but what the heck.

For all those well-wishers, I had a great day, and I'm looking forward to number 85. I'll have another book out before then, if I stay off Facebook and get the writing done. So pardon me if I'm a little scarce on the Internet for a while.

Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave

By Beth Terrell

Heard any good tweets lately?

If you haven't been living under a rock (I almost have, but that's another story), you've probably been hearing a lot about social networking lately. Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, CrimeSpace, LiveJournal, and a host of other sites that encourage cyber-communication are now being used by authors to connect with potential readers and --hopefully--broaden their fan bases.

Social networking is weaving a virtual web of relationships for friendship, entertainment, and yes, business, but with all the options, how do you know which is best? And what's the most effective way to use these social networking tools without alienating the very people you're hoping to connect with? There's been a lot of discussion about social networks on the Murder Must Advertise list lately, and most people seem to agree that the soft sell is the way to go. Make friends, participate in discussions, post some "This is what I've been doing with my book" updates, and you can build an audience without feeling like a snake oil salesman. I succumbed to Facebook, after months of resistance, and have made contact with friends I haven't seen in years, like the guy who was in my Sunday School class when we were kids and whom I haven't seen in...ahem...quite a long time. A lot of those friends ask about my book. Some of them buy it. This is nice, but it's a perk. The relationships are worth cultivating, even if they don't result in book sales.

Still, I know I'm not making the most of the medium, so while I was at Killer Nashville, I picked up a book called Social Media Marketing an Hour a Day by Dave Evans. This immensely readable book is chock full of information about building a platform through social networks such as the ones I mentioned earlier. Most important, it teaches you how to do it without spamming others or engaging in otherwise obnoxious behaviors.

I'd tell you more about it, but I'm just beginning to delve into it. With my book being reissued in October, I'm going to need all the help I can get, and weaving a virtual web of friends and readers seems like a good start.

See you on Facebook?

Flattery Will Get You Everywhere

By Chester Campbell

I’ve always heard that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I’ve decided to flatter that upstart browser known as Mozilla Firefox. Have you read about the marketing campaign they’re doing for the launch of Firefox 3.5 today? It’s billed as “the fastest Firefox ever” and they’re out to knock our socks off worldwide with a buzz event called “Shiretoko Shock.”


My answer is a campaign for the re-launch of The Surest Poison 1.0 (that’s number one in the Sid Chance series). There’s no doubt that it’s the fastest-paced Chance mystery yet. My buzz event is called “Awe Shocks” (pronounced “aw shucks”).

Borrowing again from Firefox, here’s what you and all my other millions of fans need to do. Tomorrow, on July 1, set your alarm for 1:00 p.m., which corresponds to The Surest Poison 1.0. If you use the 24-hour clock, that’s 1300. At precisely 1:00 p.m. CDT, the Awe Shocks will start in Nashville and move westward around the world. When it’s 1:00 p.m. in your local time zone, you’ll tweet away on Twitter, fiddle around on Facebook, space out on MySpace, blog, flog, whatever, making sure all mankind knows about that great new Nashville mystery.

When the round robin makes its way across the globe and back to Nashville 24 hours later, we’ll touch off the Super Awesome Shock. At precisely 1:00 p.m. CDT on Thursday, July 2, everybody around the world will inundate the web with blogs and tweets and posts and whatever else you can think of to cap off this massive rally. Don’t forget, it all happens at:

Thursday, July 2—
• 2:00 PM Eastern (New York)
• 12:00 PM Mountain (Denver)
• 11:00 AM Pacific (San Francisco)
• 8:00 AM Hawaii (Honolulu)
• 7:00 PM London
• 10:00 PM Moscow

Friday, July 3—
• 3:00 AM Tokyo

Get ready to howl!

Incidentally, if you haven’t seen the Firefox plan, click here.

Gimme a Break

By Chester Campbell

Last week was Spring Break time in the schools around here. Some systems take the week before Easter, but I suppose the Metro Nashville folks were too afraid the ACLU would jump them if they gave a row of holidays just before the Day of the Resurrection. It might look like they were favoring Christianity over Buddhism, Confucianism, Hinduism, Muslimism—is that a word? Anyway, you get the idea.

Our live-in grandson attends a Christian private school, so what the ACLU thinks is no concern of ours. But most private schools follow Metro’s calendar to keep things nice and neat. As a result, we had Spring Break last week like everybody else.

The break was that we got to sleep late every morning instead of getting up at the crack of dawn. By the way, you may not realize it, but dawn actually does not crack. I have listened on several occasions just to be sure. It slips in on little cat feet like Sandburg’s fog.

We were quickly spoiled by getting up past 8:00 a.m. I’m usually in bed by eleven at night, or shortly thereafter, so I stored up several extra hours that I’m preparing to give back this week.

When I rolled out of bed this morning—well, scooted would be a bit more accurate—to put on the coffee pot, it was pitch dark outside. Have you ever seen pitch? If you’ve seen tar, you have. And it’s pretty doggone black. It was just getting decently daylight by the time I pulled my chair up to the breakfast table.

I hate getting up early, but I accomplish a lot more in the office when I do. After I complained about too many interruptions, my wife started driving the kid to school. It isn’t that far. And when she gets back, she dutifully makes my morning cup of cappuccino. By then I’ve read emails, put a twit on Twitter and showed my face on Facebook.

But guess when I finally get around to writing my blogs? Shortly before the news at 10:00 p.m. Hint: it is now 9:47.

So this dude is done. I’ll put it up for broadcast at 12:01 a.m. and head for the living room. Spring Break is only a fond memory. But it was great while it lasted.