Yesterday I applied to about fifty marketing websites for At Death’s Door.
Many of them said on their websites that this is not a sure thing. The usual suspects from last time toted how they’ll totally have my ad on their page on the Twenty-fourth.
They didn’t last time, if they don’t this time, I’m going to be pissed.
Like I said before, they are offering a free service, but it’s apparently not guaranteed. Their confirmation email should not say that it will be in their newsletter if it’s not going to be in their newsletter. Is that too much to ask?
One said that I had been accepted and will be posted, I believe it even had links to the pages for me to go look at on the day and share and such on. I will look, if it is there, they may be my new favourite for communication.
And of course, there were the forty or so sites which are not guaranteed. Oh, I still applied to them all. To all the sites I could find. I also have a list of Facebook pages to post to the day of.
I’m starting to work on ad copy, something that will fit into a 140 characters or less. Hash tags and tweets and places to do the things. Beth has one page which worked one time, but it’s also a free service and seems to have a good spread. It doesn’t disappear immediately.
Having done all that, I went out with a work friend at nine thirty and didn’t get home until after one in the morning. Walked home from downtown…
I am not disturbed by the fact that I walked forty minutes at one in the morning. It was even warm still.
It’s the up at six, legs being annoying, wine still lingering in my mouth after brushing my teeth twice, feeling. It’s the “I don’t want to do this” feeling. Which could also be the “please, marketing, please, please, please, work.”
In the mean time, I’ve got a full work day ahead of me and I don’t want to be bright or cheerful. I want to curl up and sleep.
Aya DeAniege 