I spend a chunk of my day job ploughing through company financial reports, trying to sort the facts from the spin. My passion for fiction is useful, because most companies have a knack of wildly exaggerating the story of their progress. Rarely do you see business-speak and reheated mince blended together and rearranged so spectacularly on paper. Gloriously meaningless words such as ‘cascading’, ‘re-profiling’, ‘scalability’ and ‘uptick.’
So in honour of this smoke-and-mirrors gobshite, I would like to confirm that there has been a major uptick in sales of Amsterdam Rampant in the last month. While JK Rowling and James Patterson can still sleep soundly in their beds (for now anyway, although I am doing ninja cartwheels in their back gardens at night) it’s been a very nice bounce indeed. Check it out (you can click to enlarge):
What is encouraging is that people I don’t know are now buying the ebook in reasonable numbers. In the first couple of months I was bombarding all my social networking connections with endless spams and many of them took mercy on me and bought it. After this you see a downtick [Neil glances off stage to where a corporate gimp nods encouragingly] during the next few months when I was running freebie promos and working out how to reach a wider audience. And now, finally, the momentum I mentioned in my previous blog seems to be building, the snowball trundling down the hill and gathering a light dusting of ice powder on the way. In February, my launch month, 40 people bought Amsterdam Rampant from Amazon UK – I knew most of them, probably. In July, 41 people bought Amsterdam Rampant from Amazon UK. I don’t really have a scooby who they are.
My feeling is that all manner of connections and inter-relationships are slowly coming together, like rusty machinery grinding into life. As mentioned in my previous blog, my Goodreads profile has been growing. Also, Amazon seems to understand Amsterdam Rampant better – the novel appears now on all manner of “also bought” links, most notably Irvine Welsh’s latest novel The Sex Lives of Siamese Twins (yes, my mother is very proud.)
The whole experience continues to be a total eye-opener. I always assumed I wrote Scottish Literature, when instead it seems I actually write booze-sex-gangster-supernatural thrillers.
Anyway, I’m enjoying the uptick. And now, as I dance off stage in front of a crowd of euphoric shareholders, an overly optimistic song kicks in…