Blog

One of the most irritating pieces of advice given to me when I was starting out was that I should start marketing my book before I’d even finished writing it. I had no idea what that meant. How was I supposed to promote a book that didn’t exist?

The Wooden Ring began fourteen years ago with a question about Cordelia’s missing journey in King Lear. After finding an agent but not a publisher, the novel waited on a hard drive until its author was ready to rebuild it as a story of legitimacy, duty, power, magic, and pirates.

Marketing before publication doesn’t mean shouting “My book is coming!” for two years. It means knowing your reader, giving them somewhere to find you and building familiarity before asking for a sale.

Three covers, several expensive lessons. I look at what redesigning The Chic Crone taught me about book cover design, genre signalling, thumbnail readability, reader expectations, print colour, and the hidden costs of changing a published cover—including lost recognition, outdated promotional materials, and Goodreads complications.

A book cover is more than decoration—it signals genre, tone, audience, and professionalism before a reader ever reaches the blurb. Drawing on expensive lessons from The Chic Crone, I explore thumbnail testing, print colour, designer briefs, series branding, and how the right cover helps the right reader recognise your book.

At first glance indie publishing looks overwhelming. My advice is not to look at the whole thing at once. That way madness lies. Break it down into individual pieces, work through them one at a time and celebrate ticking them off on the master document.

Finished the manuscript? Congratulations — and welcome to the next challenge. In this first Adventures in Self-Publishing essay, I explore the shift from writer to publisher, the reader-facing decisions that follow, and why self-publishing is more than pressing upload and hoping for the best.

Rowanswood began as both refuge and rebellion: a cozy fantasy village where older women are not side characters, but the heart of the adventure. This reflection explores Crones, later-life magic, myth, reinvention, and why the most interesting chapter is never presumed to be over.

Creative work is increasingly public. We share updates, track metrics, and celebrate milestones. But being seen doing the work is not the same as getting better at it. On the difference between performance and practice, and why the deepest growth often happens offstage.

You can write a million words and still not improve. Repetition builds comfort. Deliberate practice builds skill. The difference is what you choose to pay attention to.