I just noticed in the past few days that my Carina Press books, One More Summer and Jar of Dreams, are 99 cents. I don’t know why, but if it creates sales, I’m good with it. I did mention on Face book that since my Carina Press books and my indie-pubbed novella, Summer in Stringtown Proper, AND the boxed set I have another novella in, A Heartwarming Christmas, are ALL 99 cents, I feel a little like a personal Dollar Store.
Which I felt a little weird about. I’d kind of like to have been a Saks Fifth Avenue or even a Macy’s instead of a Dollar Store.
But I’m not. And neither are the people I write about. They shop at Macy’s and at pricey little boutiques, but only off the clearance racks. They use coupons at the grocery store and drive across town to save a nickel per gallon on gas. “Across town” in my books is only three blocks–totally worth it.
I am meandering here. Wondering…
I don’t take advantage of free downloads of books because I think authors should be paid for their work. I don’t take music I haven’t paid for–though it seems to show up on my phone–and I even feel guilty watching YouTube (this is so good–shouldn’t I be paying for it?) and clicking the play arrow on those videos that pop up on Facebook all the time.
Yet I have no problem only paying 99 cents for a book that someone has put her heart and soul and lots and lots of hours into writing. Is this because I’m a Dollar Store person on the hunt for a bargain? Or is it because we–or someone–has decided that’s what our work is worth?
I’m not even sure of my own answers to this wondering. I’m just curious.