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I only have an iPhone, not a full computer or laptop from apple; But I feel like publishing, and I want to get on the iBooks store if possible. Is there an App or 'google drive'-style website I can write with on my iPhone that will save or be submit-able to apple in an .iBooks or .ePub format?
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Jun 5, 2016 14:09
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I'd recommend exploring Draft2Digital for your iBook fix. https://www.draft2digital.com/partners/
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Jun 5, 2016 14:20
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Yeah just write it on your PC and then submit through D2D. Smashwords is another option, but it's not as good.
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Jun 5, 2016 14:42
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EngineerSean posted:Here's the Kindle Firsts and their respective ranks. I'm also tracking them all on SalesRankExpress so that I can see when they all magically change rank at the same time. I'll gladly admit I'm wrong if these aren't all in the Top 6 with some absurd simultaneous leap at some point in the next three days. This finally happened last night. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B017LGAKEQ - spent the past few days in Top 20, made sudden leap from #17 to #5 at 6 am PST 06/05/2016 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B013P22OIU - spent the past few days in Top 10, made sudden leap from #9 to #1 at 6 am PST 06/05/2016 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01A8G7OE0 - spent the past few days in Top 20, made sudden leap from #11 to #2 at 6 am PST 06/05/2016 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B017RBIZII - spent the past few days in Top 20, made sudden leap from #20 to #8 at 6 am PST 06/05/2016, then moved to #3 by 9 am. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01619OXG0 - spent the past few days in Top 20, made sudden leap from #10 to #4 at 6 am PST 06/05/2016 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B014WBAUDO - spent the past few days in the 60-80 range, made sudden leap from #77 to #9 at 6 am PST 06/06/2016, then moved to #6 by 9 am. You might say "Well maybe they just made a big email push or something" but not only did I not receive anything crazy (and I'm subscribed to these) but the time period makes it basically impossible. Nobody bought or claimed free copies of that last book in a short enough time period to push that book from #77 to #9 in a single update period. It's artificial and directly hurts their competitors. It happens every month so I'll be tracking it again next month as well. EngineerSean fucked around with this message at 15:51 on Jun 5, 2016 |
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Jun 5, 2016 15:48
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EngineerSean posted:Kindle First wankery  Aw, man. This has gotta hurt the sales of the people whose books were pushed out of those places- seriously a gross move.You could maybe argue for the others being natural jumps, but that last one...
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Jun 6, 2016 01:55
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EngineerSean posted:This finally happened last night. Do you crosspost this poo poo to kboards or somewhere else public and popular? It seems like an appropriate topic to get the foaming-mouthed masses all good and foamy about.
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Jun 6, 2016 16:26
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Kindle First...it means they get the first rankings 
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Jun 6, 2016 16:32
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Trustworthy posted:Do you crosspost this poo poo to kboards or somewhere else public and popular? It seems like an appropriate topic to get the foaming-mouthed masses all good and foamy about. Kboards is loving scum and every time that I've posted evidence about something (for instance, proof that HM Ward didn't actually lose 75% of her income from kindle unlimited) I get a bunch of trolls disregarding my proof and saying "but how do you know?" until I get an IP ban.
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Jun 6, 2016 19:04
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You couldn't pay me to get involved in a Kboards argument
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Jun 6, 2016 19:06
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A good question that could be asked would be "How much does this gently caress up the Author Earnings report, since a data snapshot from May 5 would indicate at least six authors that look like they're making a million dollars a year but are not?"
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Jun 6, 2016 19:55
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Some interesting KDP nonsense. Mailing list person emails us talking about how he or she can't find the first two volumes of one of our book series. That's odd, we think. Check KDP and no big Banned marker. Links to the book page through KDP work and I can download hem through KU just fine. Go into the search bar and nothing. Book 3 is there, 1 and 2 are gone. Look under the author page, not listed. Author central also doesn't see the book. Emailed KDP and got a "we're looking into it, more later." Anyone else get a book shadowbanned?
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Jun 6, 2016 21:35
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EngineerSean posted:proof that HM Ward didn't actually lose 75% of her income from kindle unlimited please say more about this, first I've heard of it.
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Jun 6, 2016 22:02
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angel opportunity posted:You couldn't pay me to get involved in a Kboards argument Tell me about it.  quote:A good question that could be asked would be "How much does this gently caress up the Author Earnings report, since a data snapshot from May 5 would indicate at least six authors that look like they're making a million dollars a year but are not?" Honestly, apart from the general "see, there's money to be made!" point, I don't know how much value we really get from each individual AE report anymore. We've seen plenty of signs that Amazon is willing to manipulate poo poo however the gently caress they want, so I don't know if we can assume that the merit system really applies anymore (at least not firmly enough for $$$ approximations). Amazon clearly manipulates the Top 6 and has been for months, and we know they've been doing their little search-order manipulation for the better part of a year now. How far off is that from, let's say, ye olde B&N Rank #126 lockdown? I'm inclined to take with a grain of salt any data provided from a source (Amazon, not AE) that willingly manipulates it while saying that they don't.
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Jun 6, 2016 23:37
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Malloreon posted:please say more about this, first I've heard of it. I'll give you the short version since the rest has been lost like tears in the rain http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/28/technology/amazon-offers-all-you-can-eat-books-authors-turn-up-noses.html?_r=0 quote:Holly Ward, who writes romances under the name H.M. Ward, has much the same complaint about Kindle Unlimited. After two months in the program, she said, her income dropped 75 percent. “I couldn’t wait and watch things plummet further,” she said on a Kindle discussion board. She immediately left the program. Kindle Unlimited is not mandatory, but writers fear that if they do not participate, their books will not be promoted. She parroted this all over the Internet, even specified that it was Amazon only (she was part of a sweetheart deal where she was able to be in Kindle Unlimited without giving up exclusivity) and that her royalties on other venues remained static. Her income supposedly dropped 75 percent, yet this was a graph of her sales rank:  All Arrangement books were roughly the same, I overlaid three that I had complete data for that period. The payout for a borrow was $1.30 or so at the time, and her sales rank went from roughly 4000 to roughly 500 on every book in the series (reflecting eight times more borrows and sales), with a possible royalty cut of 33% per copy. When I posted this data, she said basically "How dare you, after all I've done for this community" while other posters fixated on the fact that I didn't have access to her sales reports or fixated on the fact that, even with a 500% increase in borrows and sales, if only 95% of her total borrows and sales went unpaid for (what they refered to as "ghost borrows") that the numbers would add up. The proof was there but nobody wanted to look at it. Of course, things haven't gone superbly for Ms. Ward since then.  I've brought up a number of obvious lies from both Amazon and authors since then but nobody wants to pay attention to the numbers and I always get banned for challenging the status quo without, I guess, root level access to the Internet.
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Jun 7, 2016 02:42
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Of course all that really is moot since many erotica authors lost like 90% of their income when Kindle Unlimited switched their payout schedule.
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Jun 7, 2016 02:45
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Hey guys crits on this piece? CONNOR Connor 'Con-Man' Mann's smirk was infuriating. He ducked his tall, handsome frame under the seven-foot high doorframe, and flashed his insufferable grin at Harper Bella Swansdottir. Harper looked up at Connor as he entered the bar, and she tripped--like a totally relatable ditz. Connor smirked down at her half-inch heels, and he grinned handsomely when he realized she probably never wore anything but shoes that a nerd would wear in some science lab. She was too short, and her frizzy hair was pulled back haphazardly. She wasn't the kind of woman Connor usually went for, but he bent down below another seven-foot-two-inch doorframe--as the bar had a small foyer area--and swaggered toward her. "I'll have a whisky, on the rocks, clean," Connor said, grinning devilishly. He didn't look at Harper, because he didn't need to. What kind of man just walks right into a bar and orders a whiskey while there's a lot of other people already waiting? The kind of man who demands Harper's attention, that's who. She was looking at him now--of course--and her face was burning red hot, which Connor could see as he finally looked at her confidently. She even had a small and relatable pimple on her forehead, and Connor smirked at that, knowing how far below his usual standard this woman was--but drat, did he want to protect the gently caress out of her. That's right, Harper was being hit on by a guy with low cheekbones and a mere five-figure salary--and a 5'11" stature to boot. Yeah, even with the boots he was still shorter than six feet. hosed up. Connor slammed his whiskey down--which had already arrived instantly--and slid the glass across the bar. He lept off his stool and shoved his powerful, muscled chest between the low-income creep and the awkwardly endearing Harper. "What's the matter?" Connor smirked, "Is the Beta Beta Beta fraternity having a bar crawl, did I miss the memo?" He grinned charmingly back at Harper. "This guy bothering you?" "Uh, aren't you my stepbrother?" Harper asked. "Heh," Connor said, "What is this, October 2015? No, I'm the crown prince of Moldaria." He wasn't really the crown prince--not yet--but fudging the truth was how he got his nickname: Con-Man. "Right," she said. "Your Highness." "More like His Tallness," Connor quipped. "I'm moonlighting as a QB though, for the Ottawa Otters." "QB?" Harper asked, pushing up her glasses. "What's that?" "Quarterback," he said. If he could win the pendant in the Superbowl, securing his place as MVP, the King of Moldaria would bestow upon him the crown, though he'd have to reach up quite high to get the crown onto Connor's 7'4" head. It was a long-con, Connor Mann knew, but man, it would be the biggest paying con of all time. "So," Connor said, "How about we skip the part where I neg you and lower your DEF, and we gently caress hard, fast, and unprotected, and make a secret baby?" HARPER Who was this guy, and why was he so infuriating and frustrating? And sexy? And tall? He looked to be at least 7'6", but Harper was never good with the Imperial system. Though if this guy really was a loving Prince, she'd have to get used to it. Because Princes were Imperial--these words are vaguely related. Speaking of measurements, lengths, inches, and standards...just how big was this guy's dick, Harper wondered. There was an easy way to figure out-- She giggled suddenly and without warning, and when she tried to stifle the giggle, she snorted. Connor grinned down at her, infuriatingly, and her face burned crimson. "Did you just...snort?" Connor grinned. "Uh," Harper laughed, "It's a medical condition. My pharynx is bifurcated.” "That sounds nerdy as hell, so I guess you just negged yourself into submission," Connor said, "So let's get out of here. Come on, my Ferrari is outside." *** Harper shouted over the roar of the six-figure engine--more money than the low cheekbone guy made in an entire year, the guy who disappeared without mention in the previous scene. "Connor, um, why is a prince driving a Ferrari? Shouldn't you have a driver and bodyguards?" Connor smirked. "Have you seen my body? Does it need guarding? The only thing that I'm vulnerable to is too many women trying to jump me at once, and once I drop my badboy persona to commit 100% faithfully to you and our future secret baby, women will be jealous...but they'll respect that commitment, and they'll leave us alone." It made sense, Harper supposed. She realized suddenly that she had forgotten to take her birth control for the past two days, which was so ditzy and relatable. Connor drove recklessly, and he shifted even more recklessly. The RPMs kept going up, and he shifted, making them go down. He jerked the wheel and did a cool drifting maneuver around the corner, ignoring the stop sign. "I have diplomatic immunity," Connor said, grinning. "I don't have to stop at those things." He shifted again, he must have been in eighth or ninth gear by now, Harper wasn't sure. "What about red lights?" She asked. As if in response, the light in front of them--which must have been at least 800 feet away--turned yellow, and he shifted again. And again. And again. The expensive engine was purring like the panther that Harper could secretly shift into. He shifted the car five or six more times, and did a very cool brake slamming thing to stop in front of his mansion. “Shouldn’t you live in, uh, a castle?” Harper asked. “This is just my fuckpad,” Connor said, “My castle is in Moldaria, where I’m the prince of.” CONNOR She nodded. This kind of fast thinking is where Connor got his nickname--Con-Man--from. She totally thought he was prince, and now she was going to bow down to him. Way down. He smirked just thinking about her, on her knees, submitting to him. And maybe he’d even get a blowjob. But no, as soon as he bent Harper over and ate her out until she came four times, his cock was throbbing and his balls were aching. He needed to spill his princely seed, and secure a secret heir that even he wouldn't know about. It wouldn’t even be an heir until he won the big game in the bottom of the third down, but Connor was confident enough to believe his own con. Connor stood up tall--7'2" tall, to be precise--and he prepared to gently caress...
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Jun 7, 2016 21:40
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angel opportunity posted:Hey guys crits on this piece? I feel like Harper needs to really drive home how ditzy and relatable and relatably pimpled she is. Also, I don't think you found nearly enough adjectives to tack on to Connor's grin. I want to see the lights of the bar glinting off of his insufferable/handsome/devilish/charming teeth in my mind's eye, goddamn it. Also you need a car crash at end for them to climb mysteriously unharmed from and then have unprotected, questionably consensual sex on top of. Bam, top of the indie romance list.
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Jun 7, 2016 22:42
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I think you spent too much time working on a satirical piece making fun of the industry you work in, to be honest.
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Jun 8, 2016 21:12
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I mean bravo goon sire
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Jun 8, 2016 21:13
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EngineerSean posted:I think you spent too much time working on a satirical piece making fun of the industry you work in, to be honest. it took me an hour or so lol
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Jun 8, 2016 21:13
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angel opportunity posted:it took me an hour or so lol That's still more time than it was probably worth, honestly.
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Jun 8, 2016 22:38
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Finger Wagon posted:That's still more time than it was probably worth, honestly. Disagree. That poo poo was funny as gently caress. And could actually be used as a trope guide.
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Jun 9, 2016 16:24
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Let's not argue about the precious hour I squandered... *smirks*
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Jun 9, 2016 16:31
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angel opportunity posted:Let's not argue about the precious hour I squandered... Art is never an hour squandered. It's pissed away.
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Jun 10, 2016 02:55
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All of you shut up. Its beautiful.
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Jun 10, 2016 09:50
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Air Force Trump slammed down onto the hard asphalt like a Spartan warrior’s shield colliding with a border-crossing illegal. The multi-million dollar brakes kicked in, sending up plumes of white hot smoke as Chinese rubber tore off the tires in chunks and bands. The wheels finally came to a stop in the middle of a vast private air field. Three black limos sped out to idle behind the stair car that slowly wheeled into place. An airtight seal hissed, releasing jasmine and lavender into the sour New Hampshire air. Gazing into the open portal on the side of the Boeing 787, all was darkness. Nothing stirred in that primordial gateway. Then, as if by a miracle out of the Old Testament, it appeared. Like a wave of light breaking over the dark horizon, Trump’s hair crested out into the uncaring breeze. Combed-over and levitating by forces that only six decomposing bodies in the Nevada desert could attest to, his strawberry blonde hair jutted forward like a glaive-guisarme. “New Hampshire,” Trump said to himself as he stepped onto the top of the stair car. “Jeezus,..”, “Sir?” a young hispanic man said, emerging from the plane. “No, not you Jesus. Good job with, uhh, whatever you did in there,” Trump said, gesturing back at the plane. The man slowly looked back at the plane then back at Trump. “I’m the pilot. I flew it.” “Magnificent job. Really, really good job,” Trump said, nodding in agreement with this sentiment. “Close the door. I import that air from Aberdeen. In Scotland.” He stepped down the stair car as Trump Force One’s hatch closed behind him. At the bottom of the stairs waited his band of harpies. Trump didn’t know their names. He knew he’d called them each a racial slur at some point, and out of fear of them having evidence of that, he kept them around. They probably got paid five figures a…week? A month? Trump’s brows pulled down into a furrow as he tried to recall how often salaries got paid. It had to be every week. Bread and milk don’t last a whole month. Not that it mattered: their salaries only had one comma in them. One of the troll’s faces split in half, a mouth of twisted teeth displaying in a rictus grin. He extended a greasy paw at Trump. “Mr. Trump, sir, it’s an honor to-“ “Very nice, really great job you do here. Magnificent really.” Trump said, deftly bypassing the mouth breather. But this put him squarely in front of the next member of his cloying retinue. “Mr. Trump, welcome to New Hampshire. I think you’ll find that the ground team is very dedicated. We’re performing very well: voter engagement is up across all demographics by twelve percent!” he said, spittle coagulating at the edges of his lips. Trump had to fight an urge of revulsion. That such a creature managed to crawl from whatever cesspool birthed it was some kind of perverted miracle. That it stood before him now was testament to the existence of eternal evil. “Good job. You’re doing a great job here in New Hampshire. Really magnificent. Uhh…remind me how you spell your name again?” Nine black hairs shot out of the man’s nose as he snorted. Trump’s hand clenched into a fist at his side. Having to do this dance over remembering the useless syllables that let you command someone made him scream in fury when he was alone. “Oh, there’s just the one ’n’,” he man said, his thick black rimmed glasses fogging up with his body’s excited fumes. “Yeah, ok. Look, uhh…I have a very important job for you. Can I trust you with something of utmost importance?” Trump said, his teeth clenched at he leveled his gaze at the man. “Top secret stuff. Really magnificent.” The man’s eyes went wide, the same look he surely got when a plump bug skittered past his hole. “Yes, sir.” “Good. Good. Very good. I need you to fire the driver of that,” Trump said, thumbing back at Air Force One. “You…you want me to fire…?” the man said. “The driver.” Trump said, lips pursing as he nodded. “The pilot? You want me to fire your pilot?” “Yeah, he’s getting lippy. I don’t put up with that. No way. I don’t do it. I have incredible amounts of patience, more than anyone else I know. I’m known for it,” Trump said, gazing off into the distance. “But he just went too far. Plus, you know, might not be here totally legally? Ok, good job.” Trump broke past the rest of the vultures and made it to a limo. He dove in, the mewling calls of his retinue silenced as he slammed the door shut. He looked down at his bespoke suit, scanning for evidence that one of them touched it. He’d burn it if it came to it. “Mr. Trump,” a throaty voice said from the other side of the limo. Trump was six and a half feet of pure muscle, trained to kill if need be. Without even thinking it, he launched across the limo, his fist cocked back. He was up in the man’s face before either of them could blink. He smelled of Axe Body Spray and Pepsi. Trump’s other hand sank to the man’s soft love handle. He grabbed it ferociously. “M-M-Mark Watner!” the man shrieked. Strange last words, Trump thought. “Who the hell is Mark Watner?” “Me! Sir, I’m Mark Watner. I’m your principle coordinator here on the ground, sir!” Weakness flowed out of him. He’d never fought for his life in a Turkish bath house before. loving millennials. Trump considered killing this man. No one would miss him. Just two parents somewhere secretly ecstatic that this thing won’t be living in their basement any longer. But, no. He had more important things to do today. His hand released the man’s love handle, his fist lowered to his side. “Great work you’re doing here. Really magnificent,” he said through gritted teeth.
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Jun 10, 2016 15:06
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Damnit i'm nearly there, keep going
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Jun 10, 2016 15:59
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— “…And that’s why New Hampshire is my favorite place in the whole country. I’m serious,” Trump said, nodding at the group of cud chewers that had assembled in front of his Trump Bus. Trump had learned a trick after decades of being in the board room: form a flame in your mind’s eye and focus on that. Don’t think about the masses of middle class parasites in front of you. Don’t count their pairs of dead eyes as they glanced down at their phones. Just think about that flame. “Trump for America, baby! New Hampshire is my kinda town!” Trump turned around stepped up onto bus, his security detail filing in behind him. Trump sat down on his chair and held up a crystal tumbler. From out of his eyesight a decanter tipped and filled the tumbler half way. “Did I say I wanted half a loving drink?” Trump said, his other hand hand slamming a fist down on the armrest. His knuckles, thick from punching sequoia trees in California, dented the 24K gold plating of his chair. The decanter tipped again, filling the tumbler to the brim. The syrupy bourbon sloshed, running a line down Trump’s white knuckle. He extended a dry, scaly tongue and lapped at the life giving nectar. “Tastes like America,” he said, his spirits lifting for the first time that day. The gross man from the limousine trundled down the aisle of the bus towards Trump. Trump locked eyes with the man filling the space between them with Trump’s fury and spite. If this motherfucker is going to interrupt drink time… “Uhh, sir…” he said, his words bubbling out like a kitten’s farts. “No,” Trump said, sipping his bourbon while staring at the man. “What? I didn’t even-“ “Whatever it is. No,” Trump said, the gorgeous fire burning it’s way down his throat. Warmth bloomed inside him, like a hot summer breeze that finds its way into a crypt. “I just-“ the man said, his hand clutching together in front of him. “No,” Trump said, his open mouth spilling bourbon back into his glass. “You called it a town,” the man said. “What?” Trump said, putting his bourbon down. He was going to have to wait to enjoy it. Eleven hundred dollars a glass and it was getting warmer in his hand. “You…you said New Hampshire is your kind of town,” the man said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “So. loving. What!” Trump said, his voice hot with alcohol fumes. He loved this feeling, like he was a dragon that could ignite the whole world and watch it burn. “It’s what you say on a political campaign. It’s politics, diarrhea brains.” The man stood in front of Trump, stunned into silence. Trump could see the man’s reptilian brain trying to process what was happening. He went in for the kill. “Do you have diarrhea for brains? I bet you do. I bet you’re a loser. Let me break it down for you, loser. When you are powerful enough to travel around and, oh, I don’t know,” Trump said, pausing or effect, “run for the highest office in the land, you go to lots of places. At each place you stop, you stand in front of a bunch of god drat morons, and you tell them how great their little poo poo hole is.” “But-“ diarrhea brains said. “Shut. Up. Now, you’re from here, so I don’t expect you to actually understand how the world works outside your two-horse town. I’m from a magical place called New York City. The Bronx has more people in it than in your whole lovely town of New Hampshire, and that’s just one of the boroughs. Now, diarrhea brains, you might be thinking that I told an itsy bitsy lie to those country bumpkins, and you would be right. Is New Hampshire my kind of town? No, it’s not my kind of town.” The man seemed to reel from the assault of knowledge. Just like when what’s his name found that burning bush that talked. His shoulders slumped, and he sat down in one of the seats. Trump coolly gazed at the beta male. Had they been lions on the Serengeti, Trump would have torn his genitals off, ensuring his weakness did not carry on. He ran his tongue along his teeth, fantasizing about his incisors sinking in… A wide woman flopped herself next to Trump, her arms glistening with sweat. “Sir, we have a situation,” she said, enveloping him in a fog of nacho cheese and paperback books. Trump recoiled from her, his body wanting to burrow through his Italian leather recliner and punch through the side of the bus. To rejoin his primal kin as a hunter and master of the lands. “Oh?” he said, his teeth bared in savage warning. This ambulatory sack of meat jabbed an appendage down at her cellular telephone. Trump looked at it with distrust. He didn’t believe in the things: they interfered with a man’s potence. And Trump was going to plant his seed far and wide. “Yes, sir. There’s just been a top level security warning issued for you. ISIS has just tweeted that you will not leave New Hampshire alive,” she said, her body struggling to inhale enough air to keep her form alive. “You did a good job. Really magnificent. Great stuff,” he said, slamming back the last of his bourbon. His brain processed the noises her cavernous maw had made, but they still didn’t make any sense. “Who did what now?” “ISIS, sir. The terrorist network,” she said. Trump nodded sagely. “I’m the only man who can kick their rear end,” he said, his response as automatic as pulling a hand off of a hot stove. “I’ll bomb them back to the stone age. Drones. America. It’ll be real…really good. Magnificent.” The lumbering shape of floral patterns seemed to pause and consider her next move. “What should we do about the security alert, sir? The State Department wants us to-“ “Shut up,” he barked, flinging his empty crystal tumbler to the ground. His gaze was drawn forward as another large object loomed closer on the mountainous road. Trump, apex predator, could sense weakness getting closer and he would not suffer it to live. He vaulted to the front of the bus, stepping across the driver’s safety line. “Uhh…Mr. Trump, please get back behind the line,” a dark shape said from Trump’s periphery. Trump sneered, his eyes locked dead ahead. It was another bus! “Go faster.” “Sir, we’re almost doing the speed limit,” the driver said, his voice wavering. “Do it or they won’t even find your body,” Trump said, barely above a whisper. The louder purr of the bus’ engine brought a smile to his lips. Trump was on the hunt again!
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Jun 10, 2016 20:01
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EngineerSean posted:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B017LGAKEQ - spent the past few days in Top 20, made sudden leap from #17 to #5 at 6 am PST 06/05/2016 Lol I've been out of town but they pumped these all to the top of the store AGAIN on June 15 at 5 PM, simply incredible that Hugh Howey can write some dumb article about Amazon getting mad about book promotion sites when they themselves manipulate the list so brazenly.
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Jun 18, 2016 13:39
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The whole situation is bad news. People on author forums have been talking recently about what form 'KU 3.0' might take, fixated upon what Amazon might change about the pages read system and KENPC calculations. I think this is probably the next seismic shift, though. They want more control, and with Kindle First rankings fuckery, Goodreads paid promo, and now this, they're starting to try and wrest it back. I guess we just wait and see how far they go.
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Jun 18, 2016 16:41
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So, I have a bit of an issue. Someone just gave one of my books a one star review, accusing me of stealing the title of another book that came out several years ago in another genre. It's the only review the book has, so now its sales have tanked. Does amazon care at all if I flag the review as inappropriate? Should I just delist and republish with another title? For the record, its super-romance so the title is by no means super-original. A quick search showed three other books with the same title, all of which also have reviews by the same person complaining about title theft.
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Jun 21, 2016 11:01
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ArchangeI posted:So, I have a bit of an issue. Not much you can do, unfortunately, apart from just taking it down like you said and renaming it.
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Jun 21, 2016 16:23
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I had a guy I was arguing online with give three of my titles one star reviews in retaliation. Amazon did nothing, but each title had dozens of 4-5 star reviews at the time so it didn't matter much.
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Jun 21, 2016 16:38
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ArchangeI posted:So, I have a bit of an issue. This honestly makes me wonder what the chances are that the reviewer is either the author or a friend of the author of the book they claim you're stealing the title of. It does sound like the weird, vaguely narcissistic sort of thing a particularly self-important author might do, imho. But yeah, as you suspect and Bardeh said, I don't think there's much you can do but republish it under another title. Anything else that might help is probably not worth the effort.
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Jun 21, 2016 17:20
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Bardeh posted:Not much you can do, unfortunately, apart from just taking it down like you said and renaming it. That's what I thought. So, it's on Kindle select, so I'm guessing that I have to wait for the select term to end (in September, of course), depublish and then publish as an entirely new book (and probably have to tell people that it's the same as the old one so they don't buy it twice). Simply changing the title of the book doesn't remove the reviews, right?
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Jun 22, 2016 05:55
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Right. I'd do it sooner rather than later since any sales are not going to count towards the "new" book's rank. I think you can unpublished at any point regardless of if it is in select or not. It will always be on your bookshelf.
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Jun 22, 2016 07:38
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The Fuzzy Hulk posted:Right. Amazon won't throw a fit if I publish a book with the exact same content under a new title? What is keeping me from doing that with all my old content to get it back into the "new release" queue?
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Jun 22, 2016 07:52
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ArchangeI posted:Amazon won't throw a fit if I publish a book with the exact same content under a new title? What is keeping me from doing that with all my old content to get it back into the "new release" queue? Amazon will only throw a fit if you do it over and over and over again. If the first title was bought a lot (which it sounds like it wasn't) you might expect angry reviews from that, but it's probable that you have nothing to worry about.
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Jun 22, 2016 10:01
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It did reasonably well and stayed in the top 100 of the genre for about two months, so there is a certain amount of people who bought it. I'm guessing I will just have to make it very clear that this book previously had a different title. Does Amazon remove unpublished books from people's kindle after a while? Thanks all.
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Jun 22, 2016 11:17
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ArchangeI posted:Does Amazon remove unpublished books from people's kindle after a while? Never. And "Top 100 of its genre" tells me nothing really.
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Jun 22, 2016 15:25
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