BLOGGING WITH BEVERLEY: Tuesday Tips and Tweaks

This week author Vicki Batman joins us with her tip. Vicki is an avid Jazzerciser, handbag lover, mah-jong player, Yoga practitioner, movie fan, book devourer, cat fancier, Best Mom ever And adores Handsome Hubby.

Vicki’s Tip on Creating a media page for your book

Once your book is published, you will want to talk about it...a lot! And over and over. That’s where a media page comes in handy. Here’s what my blank one looks like:
Note: all margins are .5 x .5 x .5 x .5. Text in Verdana font size 12, aligned on the left.

Book Title:

Release Date:

Author:

Publisher:

Word Count:

Page Count:

ISBN: / paperback

ISBN: / digital

Book Cover: attached separately

Long Blurb:

Short Blurb:

Excerpt: limit to one page

Author name

Author photo: attached separately

Author bio:

Find Author at:

Website:
Facebook:
Twitter:
Pinterest:
Goodreads:
Author Central:
Google+:
Other web/blog sites:
Email:

Buy links for Book title:

Amazon ebook:

Amazon paperback:

Publisher ebook:

Publisher paperback:

I fill in the blanks and save the file as: name of book media kit Ex: 080614 VBatman Temporarily Employed Media Kit

I open a folder and entitle it: book title media kit Ex: TE media folder

Inside the folder is the media kit file; covers in various sizes, author photo. Another short excerpt. That’s it!

I have used this method for almost a year now and no one I’ve shared with has complained. If anything, they have used too much! It’s a go-to place you’ll visit often. Many times, I’ve copied from the kit. No more scrambling around to find stuff. If you would like to see the one I created for Temporarily Employed, email me at: vlmbatman@hotmail.com .

And now, direct from my Temporarily Employed media kit, an excerpt to tickle your fancy:

Excerpt from “Temporarily Employed”

“Yuck.”

Pretty much covered the whole freakin’ day.

A blinding red-white, red-white strobe, reflected in my brand new Wrangler’s rearview mirror, seized my attention. The police. I tossed my hands skyward, ready to surrender. I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Like I'd commented this a.m. to my roommate, Jenny, “Today, anything’s possible.”

My Bad Day checklist included:

- Crappy job interview, one which might have provided desperately needed income.

- Wore gut-busting panty hose on a hot day which had now worked past my waist and strangled my diaphragm.

- A barely blowing air conditioner indicated something had malfunctioned in my new, fun car.

I stole another glance in the mirror, and with great reluctance, flipped the right turn indicator. My vehicle coasted to a stop on the shoulder of Boston Avenue in my hometown of Sommerville, a nice suburb located between two large cities. Four lanes of cars and trucks zipped by as I sat there where every single one of my family, friends, friends’ friends, and their friends—including Rat Fink Suzanne—would see a police vehicle positioned right behind mine. Gleefully, drivers would chant the “Ha-ha, got you, not me” ditty.

How embarrassing.

After killing the engine, I flopped back in the seat. Shooting the morons the finger was an idea. Nah. I'm too exhausted to care.

A litany of: "No, not hiring." "Just filled the position." "You're over qualified." "You're under qualified…" tornadoed through my head. Coupled with the intense job search through various outlets like the internet and completing numerous online employment applications, no wonder my body had been depleted of all life force.

Not even a breeze blew to take the edge off the unbearable summertime heat. Tangled wild trees and dry scrubby bushes banked the roadside. The grass had taken on a scorched look. Rolling down the driver’s window, I surveyed my surroundings. Nothing great. Nothing new.

I stole a glance in the side mirror at the policeman who strode purposefully along the shoulder. The gravel crunched under his boots. He looked huge, probably because his uniform, which appeared to be bulked with a bullet-proof vest, made him resemble a buffed-up superhero in size. Exceedingly intimidating.

Sigh. When things went wrong, they were really wrong.

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