Mary is the author of the young reader series called "Cynthia's Attic".

Whenever I ask a non-writer to imagine a typical full-time writer's workload, they look a bit puzzled, before they reply: "Well, a writer... writes. Drinks coffee. Smokes lots of cigarettes. Writes some more. Finishes the book. Sends it off to the publishers. Writes another book."

If only!

Today I'd like to dispel this myth by talking to Mary Cunningham again (see my archives for the previous interview earlier this year, http://yewalus.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html). Mary is the author of the young reader series called "Cynthia's Attic". Welcome back, Mary.

Q: I'd like us to concentrate on your marketing effort for the "Cynthia's Attic" series: what did you try?

A: You're right, Yvonne. If only we could just write! Today's authors must be more involved in marketing. Book one, "The Missing Locket" was published in DEC 2005. I wish I'd known then what I know now. I don't think I'd be struggling as much with sales. I'm so much more savvy about promoting on the Internet. It's such an amazing tool. If you hit the right review sites, blogs, press releases, you can reach so many more people than you can at booksignings or book festivals. These are still important, but mass media is so much more effective. I also have a website, and blog on 7 or 8 different blogspots, plus try to "guest blog" whenever I'm asked!

Q: What worked best?

A: So far, blogs have been the most effective. I'd had one review that was posted on 15 (that I've counted) different blogs, including 2 international blogs.

Q: What didn't work so well for you and why?

A: I've struggled with libraries. Although I've sent personal e-mails to libraries in 8 states, I have very few library sales to show for it. Libraries are hung up on reviews - Library Journal, Kirkus, Publishers Weekly. If your book isn't listed on one of these sites, it's like pulling teeth to get them to add your books to their catalogs. I know other authors have had good success with libraries, so maybe I'm just not hitting the right buttons. I won't stop trying!

Q: Let's talk about Book Three: what is the title and blurb?

A: So glad you asked! The title is Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou.

Colorful Pirates, SuRana, a shape-shifting puma, and an old Cajun guide named Mud Bug, join Cynthia and Gus, in Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou.

The twelve-year-old best friends travel through the magic trunk in Cynthia's attic to a 1914 Louisiana bayou searching for Cynthia's great-grandfather, Beau Connor. Discovering a connection between Beau and Buzzard Jack LaBuse, the meanest, orneriest pirate this side of the Mississippi, leads to a heart-stopping confrontation to recover a long-lost treasure and lift a family curse.

Q: I look forward to presenting an excerpt and the book's cover in next week's blog, Mary. Meanwhile, back to the marketing aspect again: what have you done so far for this latest book, what are you planning to do still, why is it different to or the same as you've tried before?

A: I'm sending out more press releases. Spreading the word through blogs and MySpace. As soon as I have a firm publish date, I'll concentrate on my best markets (hometown, region, book locale, etc.) and also contact bookstores in those areas. In addition to the books my publisher (Quake) will be sending out for review, I'll send books out for review. I've also been asked to write Book Four! I'll never stop marketing, but I also need to find time to write another book. I'm not ready to let go of Cynthia and Gus just yet.

Q: Anything else you'd like to add?

A: I'm proud of the fact that my goal in writing the series is to elevate grandparents beyond homemade cookies and hugs in the eyes of their grandchildren. Cynthia's Attic bridges the generational gap, helping young readers and writers understand that it's okay, and might even be fun, for them to ask questions and write stories about their grandparents before they became, well...grandparents! I regret the fact that I didn't sit down with my grandparents and ask about their childhood. It's too late for me, but maybe I can encourage young readers to be inquisitive and write stories about their ancestors.

Q: And before we sign off: link to purchasing all the books in the series.

http://www.marycunninghambooks.com/ (links to online bookstores and local bookstores may be found on my website)
http://www.quakeme.com/
Amazon
Fictionwise

Thanks, so much Yvonne. It's been a pleasure being your guest!


Colorful Pirates, SuRana, a shape-shifting puma, and an old Cajun guide named Mud Bug, join Cynthia and Gus, in Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou.



The twelve-year-old best friends travel through the magic trunk in Cynthia's attic to a 1914 Louisiana bayou searching for Cynthia's great-grandfather, Beau Connor. Discovering a connection between Beau and Buzzard Jack LaBuse, the meanest, orneriest pirate this side of the Mississippi, leads to a heart-stopping confrontation to recover a long-lost treasure and lift a family curse.





Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou

Excerpt from Chapter Nine:



"How do you reckon they got here, son?"

"Like I told you, Ma, I found them here in the hayloft, all nestled down like they were fixin' to take a nap."

"Well, what do you suppose we should do? Wake them, or let them sleep? I hate to disturb those angelic faces…oh, my heavens! Jay! You don't think they're dead, do you?"

I heard the word, dead, and sat straight up. "No! We're not dead, and who are you?"

"Now, listen here. I'll do the talking if you don't mind."

A tall, thin young man in overalls, resting one arm on a pitchfork, looked down at us. With that deadly weapon in his grasp, I decided to shut my mouth…for the moment.

"What? Where are we?" Cynthia regained consciousness and did a double-take.

A plump, older woman in a huge white apron answered, "You're on the Conner farm, dearie. I'm Samantha Conner and this is my son, Jay.

No wonder Cynthia was speechless. I wasn't too familiar with her mother's family, but their name was Conner, and I'd heard mention of Samantha, Cynthia's great-grandmother. Her grandfather was nicknamed Jay by his dad who thought that 'John Joseph' was too showy for a farmer's son. This might also explain why the man we were looking for, her great-grandfather, Aloysius Beauregard Conner, went by Beau.

"So?" Jay leaned forward, still holding the pitchfork. "We're waiting for an answer."

My mind raced. I could tell we weren't going to lie our way out of this one. Not easily.

"We got separated from our family, sir," Cynthia, over her momentary shock, said smoothly. "We were traveling west, and our wagon…uh, our covered wagon…"

I nodded. So, she did pay attention in history class. "

"…became stuck in a muddy creek bank. My sister, Gus, er, uh…I mean Augusta, and I left to find help and got hopelessly lost."

"Oh, dear!" Samantha threw her hands in the air. "Your poor parents! They must be frantic! Jay, we must help them find their family!" She ran in circles, almost tripping on her long apron, crying…"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

I knew better than to look at Cynthia because we'd both burst out laughing. Great Grandma Sam, was quite a sight. At least her antics took the heat off of us because Jay had to all but tackle his mother.

"Ma. Stop running! We'll find their family, but we need more information."

He must've had a lot of practice calming her down, because the sternness in his voice stopped her hysterics on the spot. "You're right, son. Oh, I'm sorry, girls. I can't imagine the horror of losing any of my beautiful children."

Jay smirked. "Yeah, but Ma, with twelve kids, it might be awhile before you'd know any of us were missing."

She sent a withering look. "Oh, you two dearies. Don't pay any attention to him. Jay, here, is 21, and the baby of the family. But, just because his brothers and sisters are grown, with families of their own, I still fret about every single one of my brood."

Standing behind his mother, Jay smiled and winked. "Now, that Ma has sworn her undying love for all her children, let's get back to you girls."

Shoot! I had hoped we were off the hook. No such luck.