Blogging, Writing, and Publishing

A few weeks ago, I spoke at a security conference as a subject matter expert. While there, I was able to sell books and provide advice and assistance. This article provides a way for me to share what I did at the conference and hopefully give you ideas on how to do it as well.  and how you can to. Last week a major magazine contacted me asking to provide an article for their publication. Regularly I receive emails request security advice. Why? Because I am recognized as a security expert. How? Recognition of quality preparation (for more information on the how,  view the 5 year plan to become an expert in your niche . One of the excellent benefits of self publishing is the professional credibility that you can enjoy. Whether writing fiction, reference or self help, you’ve got a message. The research you’ve conducted as you’ve developed your message makes you a subject matter expert. Perhaps you’re like me and have always desired to write articles, teach and...

Which works better, paid advertising or free internet opportunities? I still think (and have the numbers to back it up) that informative and attractive blogs provide the best marketing for your book. After all, you are the expert on your book and who else better to talk about your book than you. I recently ran an experiment with LinkedIn and Facebook. If you’ve read Get Rich in a Niche , you might remember that I loathe advertising. Against my better judgment I reluctantly decided to once again pay to advertise my books and publishing company. Using Facebook, I created four ads; three for books and one for Red Bike Publishing. Each ad is a pay per click ad and I set my limit to $10.00 a day. I gave each ad a max of a $100 limit before pausing it. I also limited my ads’ exposure to demographics likely to buy my book. For example, for my security clearance books, I set the ads to be visible for 22-55 years old and/or small business owners and/or professionals with technical backg...

John and Sandy entered the hut as Numah and Tucker fearfully withdrew. Marta, having fought long and hard on behalf of the boy’s welfare, fell into the waiting arms of Sandy, and let herself sob with frustration. “We’ve got to do something, Sandy. He won’t even listen.” “We’ll do something. Don’t worry,” Sandy replied. John kicked at the dust and pretended to look at something on the ground. “I’m sorry, John, I didn’t mean to lose control in front of you. I’m just frustrated,” said Marta. Marta saw the witch doctor snicker, then continue with a professional but I-know-what-I’m-doing, and-you’re-too-simple-to-¬recognize-greatness attitude. “Don’t worry, Marta, I understand what you have been through. I’ve been through less frustrating situations, but didn’t handle them nearly as well as you are this one. At least the doctor is still standing.” Sandy laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I haven’t ruled out violence.” Marta allowed a chuckled. Marta saw recognition in Mewpa’s eyes. He often refe...

The next morning, John set Buttercup down for a bumpy but otherwise perfect landing at the Tarampura airstrip. He made a mental note that the strip of land carved from brush and trees would have to be groomed before it got out of hand. He also noted Marta wasn’t there to greet him. “Hi, John! Are we going to fly on this nice day?” Tucker asked. “I don’t think we can. The nurse and I still have a lot of villages to visit,” John said. Numah smiled a bashful greeting. “Where is Marta? Doesn’t she come to greet friends anymore?” asked Sandy. “She want us to bring you. She fight with the village doctor,” Tucker said. They climbed hurriedly to the village. They could hear Marta yelling loudly in the local dialect. When frustrated, she threw in intermittent English. “What do you mean waving these feathers over him? This isn’t going to do any good. Just give it up and let me help,” Marta begged. The witch doctor just grunted and continued his magic. Multi¬colored sacred bird feathers fluttered...

“We’ve done all we can. We’ll let the medicine and God do the rest. Why don’t we catch our breaths now?” said Marta. “I could use a breather.” John followed Marta to a cool spot in the shade of her hut. Business as usual, he thought as he watched a couple dig up sweet potatoes. “Steve is probably wondering what the blur was going through the middle of Tiom.” John laughed reflectively. “Waiting for you was painful,” said Marta. “I haven’t stopped rushing until just now. I radioed for the medicine, and Steve had it waiting. He handed it through my window right there on the runway. Next thing I knew I was flying back,” said John. “I think my heart has stopped pounding. You may just be a hero. Who knows what would have happened had you not been here.” “I’m sure everything would have been fine.” John looked at her approvingly. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m glad you were here. I think you were right the first time,” said Marta. “When?” asked John. “When you came today. I think you were rig...

  CHAPTER 10      High in the mist-filled mountain tops two figures danced excitedly around their chubby friend. Another tall and lanky character observed it from under the wide brim of his bush hat. He allowed himself a rare smile. The boys have earned some excitement.      “Bart found the ore. Finally, he did something besides trying to kill us with his food,” Charles said excitedly, much to Bart’s dismay.      “My food gave you the strength to carry on. Didn’t it, Angus?” Bart said, looking hopefully to the boss.      “Kissing up to him won’t get you much,” said Roger. “But finding this gold will.” He grabbed the short and stout Bart in a headlock and rubbed his dirty hair heartily, excited that the months of mining had finally been rewarded.      Bart smiled in his goofy manner, enjoying the much needed praise.      Roger and Charles let out a roar of pleasure as they tossed the baseball-...

“What'd you do that for?” Angus yelled. “He was going to eat me,” the overweight Bart whined a little too loudly. He still had his shotgun poised over his head. “No he wasn’t, you fool. He probably heard all the commotion you made and came to investigate,” said Charles. “What in the world was this aborigine doing up at this time of night?” Bart complained, laboring for air. “Probably guarding the camp from lads like us,” Charles chided. “Keep it down! Did you have to hit him so hard? I think he’s dead,” Angus chastised. “I said I didn’t mean to. You shouldn’t have brought me here. You should’ve left me to guard the camp instead of Roger,” Bart continued to whine. “This stuff scares me and I hate walking through it. I can’t believe you made me come.” “We needed someone competent to stand by at camp. We didn’t think you could cause trouble under supervision,” Charles continued. Angus dug into his back pack and pulled out an ornament he took from an Asmat warrior he fo...