Sunday, December 7, 2014

ADR Magazine Sales Numbers

I saw a blog post recently in which a short story writer guessed that about 100 people would read any short story he published. I saw another blog post a while back in which a writer guessed that a particular magazine only sold 50 copies per issue.

I used to do the same thing--guess at how many people had a read a given story I had written, usually based on the number of comments at the end of the story or, I don't know, nothing. There's not a wealth of info out there.

I've put together the following stats on sales for the first three ADR issues. I'll have numbers for issues 4 and 5 in the spring.

Issue #1: Released November 2013. Sold 608 ebooks and 36 print copies.
This is our bestselling issue. I'm not exactly sure why. We lowered the price to 99 cents back in the spring, so that may have something to do with it.

Issue #2: Released February 2014. Sold 254 ebooks and 36 print copies. Free promo 206.
This one was at $2.99 much longer than the first issue. The free promo was great for getting magazines into the hands of readers. But we saw a big drop off in sales following the five-day promo. Since then we've dropped the price to $1.99, which has boosted sales some.

Issue #3: Release June 2014. Sold 126 ebooks and 24 print copies. Free promo 151.
More or less the same as issue 2.

I can confidently say that if we publish your story, far more than 50 or 100 people will read it. In fact, the average so far is 479 total copies distributed per issue. Even issue 3, which has been out less than six months, has 300 copies out in the world.

Still, it would be nice if there were some way to crack the top hundred on Kindle. Guess I'll have to turn ADR into the leading periodical for gay, billionaire dinosaur porn

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

The Story Behind A Pack of Lies

I wrote this very short book (long short story? I don't know, I get tired of labeling fiction) about a sleazeball reporter, Lionel Kaspar. It's called A Pack of Lies and it's one half of Two Bullets Solve Everything, along with a shorty by Ryan Sayles. 

This is the most autobiographical thing I've written. I took many of my experiences as a reporter for The New Haven Register and the Iowa City Press-Citizen and shuffled them around, distorted them a bit, put them all through a noir filter. 

I often took everyday reporting situations and thought about how Kaspar might try to manipulate those situations to his advantage. He's not very good at it, but he's extremely immoral, which always helps. 

Reporting as a career always struck me as ideal for crime fiction. The obsessive gathering of information by using whatever tactics available. The way the newspaper business has decayed and how the futility of the thing covers you like a film. The smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee/booze. The ink on the flimsy pages. The pressure to lie, cheat, and steal your way to the middle. Not to mention what reporters cover--embezzlement, adultery, murder. 

I've wanted to write about all this for a long time but hadn't found a way to. My first novel was about journalism--and that manuscript will never see the light of day. I managed a few short stories. But, for whatever reason, I never hit the groove until this book. Writing in Kaspar's voice felt natural. 

That's why I'm continuing to write about him. Yep, there's more ridiculous blackmail schemes, elaborate lies, and crushing self-hatred to be published by ADR Books.

Monday, December 1, 2014

OUT NOW: Prodigal Sons by Mike Miner

Matthew Flanagan is living the American dream. A plum job at an ad agency. A hot wife. A beautiful home in Southern California. But something is eating him up inside and a nasty drinking habit is about to cost him everything.

After his life finally collapses around him, Matthew disappears to Vegas with a girl he barely knows. When word reaches the Flanagan clan back in Connecticut, Matthew's brothers Mark and Luke are sent on a mission to find their brother and bring him home. It's a longer and darker journey than either of them planned on.

At turns funny and moving, Prodigal Sons is a hard-boiled American odyssey. A family saga with the heart of a crime novel.

"The work of an extravagantly talented writer, Prodigal Sons is one of the best debut novels I have ever read.” --Sterling Watson, author of Suitcase City, Fighting in the Shade, and Sweet Dream Baby.

"Miner’s wicked electric chair humor calls to mind the best of Elmore Leonard and Charles Willeford." -- Patrick Michael Finn, author of From the Darkness Right Under Our Feet and A Martyr for Suzy Kosasovich.

Available as an ebook at Amazon US and UK, and as a mass-market paperback

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Sneak Peak of Prodigal Sons, by Mike Miner, coming from All Due Respect Books December 1

Matthew Flanagan was awake a long time before he opened his eyes.
Fragments of a dream lingered. Decaying at the end of a street, a crooked house squatted. Matthew didn’t recognize the house, but he knew there was something inside that he needed. Creatures protected it. What sounded like mad dogs, monsters that barked and bit. In the distance, a melody of keys jangling, cop shoes squeaking and the industrial hum of fluorescent lighting; the familiar music of jail.
            The Beverly Hills Police Department did not have bars on its cells. Instead there were thick glass doors which looked less forbidding than they should – Matthew felt a bit cheated. In the movie version of his life, he’d put bars on the cell. The glass was strangely more isolating than bars; even the air he breathed was trapped inside. Through it, he could see the police desk and the officers doing their thing. Instead of a bed, prisoners were given a mat to put on the concrete floor. A cheerful orange, the color of a Good Humor Creamsicle, decorated the walls. The thought of eating a Good Humor Creamsicle made a rumpus in Matthew’s stomach. A clock hung on the wall behind the police desk but he couldn’t see its face. He was pretty sure it was Saturday morning, but if the female cop at the desk walked over and told him it was the following Friday, he wouldn’t put up much of an argument.
            The khaki-uniformed woman filed papers and chatted with someone Matthew couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear what she said. It was like watching television with the sound down and no remote control to change the channel. He wanted desperately for her to look over and acknowledge him, but she didn’t even glance in his direction.
On the floor on the other side of the cell, his cellmate slept the sleep of the damned. His snoring was an echo of the mad dog snarling from Matthew’s dream. If he’d had it, Matthew would have paid a million dollars to be able to sleep like that. He thought about pounding on the glass to get someone’s attention, but he didn’t know what he’d do with it.

He started to case the cell. A table against a wall held checkers, a deck of cards, a year-old Cosmopolitan professing to know “The Secret to His Orgasm” and, to Matthew’s surprise, a remote control. He picked it up and tried to turn up the volume of the scene outside his cell but he still couldn’t hear anything. He was amazed to see a television mounted inside a cage in the corner of his cell. It seemed to him that things were looking up, but he was like a man heading toward an oasis who is not convinced it’s real until he actually sips the water. He touched the power button and the TV came to life. It got two stations, CBS and the Weather Channel. Hurricane Felix was crashing into Aruba and Georgetown was playing Seton Hall in basketball. He settled on the hoops and shuffled the deck of cards. A game of solitaire commenced. All in all, he thought, if he could just murder his cellmate, he’d be willing to stay here for quite some time. This was a much nicer cell than the last two he’d spent the night in. He made a mental note to commit his next crime in Beverly Hills. As the snoring continued, he tried to piece together the broken shards of his memory.

Monday, November 17, 2014

OUT NOW: Two Bullets Solve Everything

Two noir novellas for the price two.

(Yeah, you heard me!)

In Disco Rumble Fish, author Ryan Sayles rewinds to the 1970s, when Richard Buckner rolled with the city's SWAT team. Tasked with finding a criminal associated with a mobster's violent jailbreak, Buckner and company prove there's nowhere to hide when you kill one of their own.

In Chris Rhatigan's A Pack of Lies, newspaper reporter Lionel Kaspar is out to find the truth and advocate for social justice. Just kidding. He's a scam artist of the lowest order out to make a quick buck off of whoever crosses his path. But the comfortable niche he's created for himself is about to be crushed.

We hope to make this part of a series of double features. Check it out now at Amazon US and UK