Medium Tips – Again!

I recently encouraged a few more friends and fellow authors to join Medium and I’ve been guiding them through the process and answering any questions they have on getting set up. I thought it might make sense to write another blog post listing the process from start to finish. So, here goes.

Image by Firmbee from Pixabay
  1. Join Medium as a subscriber if you want to earn money! You can join for free and you can submit writing and read other people’s work for free, but if you want to get paid you need to be a subscribed member. It’s just $5 a month and that gives you endless interesting content to read, plus it means you can start getting paid yourself once you have been accepted onto the Partner Programme.
  2. Set up your profile page. You’ll probably find the process familiar if you are on any other social media sites. You need a profile photo and a short bio. Both of these will appear when you follow people. I don’t tend to follow people who don’t have bios or photos, so make sure it is a good clear picture and a nice concise bio. Here is mine as an example: Author and owner of Chasing Driftwood Writing Group and Chasing Driftwood Books. Owner of The Wild Writers Club publication. https://chantelleatkins.com/ As you can see, mine is short and to the point. They don’t allow many characters.
  3. Set up Stripe payments. Once you apply to the Partner Programme you can start getting paid, so make sure you have set yourself up for payments via Stripe. I found it very straightforward. You just follow the cues and enter the information required.
  4. Write an About Me story. To do this, you first need to find the About Me publication on Medium and comment under their pinned submission post to join as a writer. Once accepted, write your About Me page and once that has been submitted and accepted by the publication, pin it to the top of your profile page. Now you have a short bio plus a longer introduction to who you are and what you write. Here is mine as an example: https://medium.com/about-me-stories/about-me-chantelle-atkins-91d0bc990187
  5. Look for publications that would suit you. What do you want to write on Medium? If you only want to write stories and poems, then search for fiction accepting publications. If you only want to write about parenting, then search for those. If you have lots of ideas then reach out to a few publications to get you started. I recommend Promptly Written for the sheer reason they provide monthly themes and weekly prompts to respond to on a wide array of topics. This could be the boost you need to get writing. The Honest Perspective also covers most topics and formats of writing. I also like Modern Women, Rainbow Salad, Read or Die, The Parenting Portal, Know Thyself, Heal Thyself, The Poetry Publication, and of course my own recently set up publication, The Wild Writers Club!
  6. Ask to be a writer for the publications you like. Usually the process is simple. Most pubs ask you to comment on their submission guidelines (to show you have read and understood them) asking to be added as a writer. Some pubs are fussier and require forms to be filled in and some prefer to be emailed directly. Smaller pubs are easier to get into but ask to write for any you think you could contribute to.
  7. Make sure you read their submission guidelines, rules and their work! This is very important. I recently set up my own publication, added some writers and some then submitted work that had nothing to do with my publications topics! So I had to decline them. The best way to make sure you are a good fit for a pub is to read their work. Spend some time on their page reading work by other writers. Don’t forget to engage by clapping, commenting and highlighting! It’s also really good practice to follow at least some of the other writers on that publication and support their work by reading, clapping and commenting. This shows loyalty to the publication and encourages growth and visibility, which is mutually beneficial for everyone!
  8. How to format your written pieces. Some publications may have clear rules on how they want work to be formatted before submitting. If you don’t read and adhere to this, then they won’t publish your piece, and why should they? After all, it is their publication and they may have a certain look or feel they are trying to maintain. Personally I prefer and advise the following check list: Use both a TITLE and a SUB-TITLE. You might as well use both. The sub-title allows you to fit more keywords into your title, which may attract more readers, so in my opinion, you’d be silly not to utilise that extra tool. To correctly format the main TITLE, you write it into the title space, highlight the first T in the word TITLE and then choose the TITLE option when it comes up. It is set out as a capital ‘T’. To format the sub-title, you do the same underneath. Highlight the first letter in your sub-title and choose the smaller ‘t’ when it comes up. This gives it all a nice universal look. You can also add a KICKER above your title. Again, you might as well! A KICKER just gives the reader a bit more information on what type of writing this is. For example you might put: ESSAY/FAMILIES/MEMOIR if you have written a piece about childhood memories. To add a KICKER you merely write it above your TITLE and again, highlight the first letter and choose the small ‘t’ again. This will format your KICKER.
  9. Images. It is wise to add a suitable image to your piece. I usually only add one at the start of my piece, but again, some publications will prefer you to add more and some really don’t like more than one. Check those submission guidelines! To add an image you click on the + symbol and a menu of options appears. You can upload an image from your device, or choose one from the Unsplash site. You must then add a credit under the image stating where it came from. You can also use other free sites like Pixabay. If the photo is your own, just state that. Then add Alt-Text. If you click the image, you will see a box saying ‘Alt-text’ come up above it. Click on this and it will ask you to describe the image for visually impaired readers. This is good practice and some publications are now insisting on this, so you might as well get in the habit of doing it.
  10. End of your piece. You can use the + symbol again to add paragraph breaks or new blocks. I like to add a ‘…’ to separate my main piece from my explanation or links at the end. Some people add these throughout their piece. It’s up to you. It’s a style choice. At the end of mine, after the separator, I use italics and thank people for reading. You can ask for claps, comments and follows if you want, but I prefer not to. Most pubs will allow you to add links or ‘calls to action’ at the end of your piece. If it has been written in response to a prompt, for example, the publication will want you to add a link to that piece. Some ask for their submission guidelines to be added at the end of each piece. Again, read those guidelines! I tend to add a link to the prompt and then one or two more pieces I have written for that publication. This gives the reader the option to read more from me on a similar topic in the same publication and I like to think it shows some loyalty and appreciation to that pub for having me as a writer! You can also add links to your books, if you are a published author, links to websites or other sites such as X or Substack etc. But again, check. Some publications only allow a certain amount of links at the bottom. To add a link, again click on the + symbol and move along the menu bar until you find the option for adding a link. It’s sensible to add links if the publication allows it. If people enjoyed your piece, you are giving them more to click on.
  11. Getting boosted. Writers on Medium can have their work boosted by boost nominators. Some pubs have boost nominators and some don’t. It’s probably a good idea to write for a mix of both. But writing for a pub without a boost nominator is not a problem, as boost nominators don’t just nominate within their own publications. They can nominate anything they come across on Medium. They have 20 nominations a month to use up and the Medium curation team then decide if the piece is indeed boost-worthy. You might get lots of nominations for boosts but not have them actually boosted, or you might win on both fronts. If your work is boosted you will receive an email from Medium. Your piece will then be pushed in front of more readers and you will see more views, reads, claps and comments as a result. This generally means your piece will earn you more money, but it does vary. My biggest earner from a boost has made me $405 so far. It’s still getting reads so it will continue to make me money. But some of my boosted articles have only earned around $15. As for non-boosted, you can earn as little as a few cents or as much as $50 or more! It really can vary a lot. What gets boosted? That would take a while to delve into but for me, it’s been pieces that are raw, honest, heartfelt and authentic, usually on topics that are fairly universal and relatable.
  12. Medium etiquette. Medium is overwhelmingly a lovely, warm, supportive place. It’s a very co-operative place and that’s why it works. It’s reciprocal. It has to be. If you use Medium selfishly, you will not do well. Follow people you are genuinely interested in. Subscribe to get email alerts from them if you really want to support them. Read the Daily Digest email every day. It will load up stories from writers who follow you, writers you follow, and topics it has noticed you are interested in. Read whatever catches your interest, clap and comment to increase engagement for that writer. Every time you read AND engage, you are helping that writer earn money. Support the publications that have accepted you to write for them. Answer comments when you get them. It’s polite to thank people for reading and commenting, and your comment to them also counts as more engagement. Don’t beg people to follow you. I hate that. Don’t comment on people’s work asking them to read your piece on a similar topic. That’s so rude. Don’t be needy. Don’t spam people, don’t try to sell them anything. You can get reported and thrown out, quite rightly. Medium etiquette really needs a longer post, so I might come back to this another day! But it’s really quite simple. Read the rules, learn the rules, pay attention to the etiquette and support others if you hope to be supported yourself.

Okay, that’s everything for now on the basics. If you want to know more about Medium and what a wonderful platform it is for new and established writers, let me know what else I can talk about! Thanks for reading!

format title, sub title and kicker

add image and give credit plus alt text

use title and sub title – alluring, thought provoking

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be real

At Night We Played In The Road – Out Today!!

It is publication day for my latest novel, At Night We Played In The Road!

I honestly feel like I have let this book down by not promoting it enough but all summer I have been glued to Medium and other things. I have been working on the current WIP Black Hare Valley when I can, but even that has taken a back seat to Medium! I have just launched my own publication on Medium, The Wild Writers Club, so that has been taking up some time, as well as writing for others.

However, I am super proud of this latest book and the way it connects to a bigger universe of books. If you don’t already know, it is a spin-off from The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series and although it will give you spoilers for that series, it can be read as a standalone.

It also connects to books I have already written as well as the next two books to come out.

You will find the blurb and the link below, but first I’m sharing a wonderful review that just came in from Karen J Mossman’s World of Stories blog. Karen is a wonderful writer, blogger and a great support to indie authors like me, so do check out her blog and her reviews!

Here is the review:

The story begins when Tom the youngest child is a baby and his single father tries to kill him. Alfie is there just in time and the little boy continues to protect his brother as they grow up.

Their father manufactures drugs to sell, this means a chaotic life for the young boys. They find themselves in different foster homes, and even that is fraught with danger.

At Night We Played In The Road, is a powerful and heartbreaking story. But, it’s also a tale of courage and brotherly love. Right and wrong, good and evil present themselves. Some people are born inherently bad, and lure others in. Good people get drawn into bad situations and this is Alfie. I championed him right through to the stiy’sy satisfying conclusion.

This is a big book with over 500 pages. Personally, I prefer shorter reads, but if you don’t mind you are in for a treat.

The author has a wonderful way with words and her writing is compelling. It’s worth checking her out as Chantelle Atkins has a great selection of books. Many cross over or connect with each other in a way I’ve never seen anyone do before.

And here is a link to read a free sample of the book:

As always, your support is invaluable to me, an indie author on a very limited budget!

My Next Book Is Out Next Month!

It’s Friday – usually my blog-posting day, so what better news to share than new book news!

This will be my twenty-second release but honestly, it never gets old. It is still just as much of a thrill!

First, what do you think of the cover? I used my son again – he did the amazing book covers for The Day The Earth Turned series and he also recently updated The Mess Of Me and The Tree Of Rebels for me. This one was so hard to get right though! We went through three other designs before we settled on this one and even then we kept changing our minds about colour schemes. In the end, I think we got it right. It is dark and moody but also quite beautiful and I hope that is what readers will think of the book itself.

At Night We Played In The Road is a spin-off book from The Boy With The Thorn In His Side series and I got the idea about four years ago. At the time I was revamping and adding to that series and in part five I had introduced two brothers called Tom and Alfie Lane. They have small but significant parts in that story and it was obvious that they had an interesting back story to tell. They are drawn into a life of crime, but how and why? I wanted to go back to the beginning and find out what led them to that place.

Here is the blurb:

When Tom Lane was born, he accidentally killed his mother and in the process, his father’s love.

Determined to protect Tom from their father’s criminal business, older brother Alfie must become Tom’s father, mother and protector. It’s the two of them against the world until the day Tom chooses a life of crime over Alfie’s dream of a normal life.

Ten years later the estranged brothers are reunited when a violent gang bring Tom to Alfie’s door with a gun to his head.

Tom’s partners in crime have turned on him and he needs his brother to save him one more time…

A darkly brooding story of brotherly love, belongings and the beginnings that shape who we become.

And here is the opening paragraph:

The first time Alfie Lane had to think fast to save his brother’s life, he was five years old. That moment haunted his childhood, yet, in the years that followed, Alfie somehow found a way to bury the terrible memory. In fact, he has not thought of it since he was a kid, and, as it comes to him now, this fact alone seems somehow more strange, frightening, and catastrophic than the gun being held to his brother’s head. How could he have forgotten?

The preorder link: https://amzn.eu/d/0czWhf1a

Stay tuned because next week I will be sharing the inspiration and ideas behind this book and its characters!

Dancing In The Dark Won’t Keep Us Alive – short story/future novel idea

Last week I responded to a prompt on Medium and wrote this short story using two characters I had already created for a potential future novel. The prompt was musical; you had to choose a song title and/or lyrics to respond to and I picked Dancing In The Dark by Bruce Springsteen. For some reason the characters of Cody and Anya popped into my head as I feel like their entire story is very much a dance through the dark… This is a very rough and shortened version of how I think they will first meet and put their dark plans into action. See what you think!

Image by DelilanVan from Pixabay

When the newsflash ended our eyes met across the cafe table. The coffee he had offered in apology for kicking my bag across the floor had been barely touched, and suddenly I had no appetite for it.

I didn’t know his name yet, but the great scrawny scarecrow of a man raised his eyebrows at me. ‘Don’t tell me that surprises you.’

I glanced back at the TV, which had moved onto commentary and coverage of the protests already building up outside parliament. I scanned the cafe and saw the other customers frozen in shock, their foreheads furrowed, their lips moving without speaking.

‘He really said that?’ the waitress behind the counter questioned, before dismay and anger filled her face. ‘Jesus Christ, I voted for that lot! He really bloody said that, didn’t he?’ She looked our way, shaking her head in fury.

I smiled and nodded. ‘He really did say that.’

The scarecrow cleared his throat, his eyes on me. ‘Cody,’ he said, with a wink. ‘And you are?’

‘Anya,’ I told him, ‘and no, it doesn’t surprise me. Nothing surprises me anymore. The better question is, what are we going to do about it?’

A huge grin lit up his face. ‘Now you’re talking. I knew you were my kind of girl.’

Maybe he was flirting, who knows? It was one of those moments for sure. Life-changing — and everyone in that cafe felt it. There was something heavy in the air, yet it was crackling with electricity and Cody was staring at me in pure hunger. It felt like we were standing on the edge of the universe and somehow, though I knew we wouldn’t survive, I was ready for it. Ready for something.

‘What did he say?’ one of the old women by the window asked, her voice cracked and trembling. ‘What did he say about us?’

‘Why are they surprised?’ Cody lowered his voice, leaning in closer. ‘It’s hardly a shock, is it? Extremely rich and powerful person doesn’t give a shit about the rest of us? Jesus, where the hell have these people been living?’

I nodded, still grinning. He was right. I was right. Suddenly, we were right. Everything was happening. There was a crash out the back and a frustrated scream from the waitress.

‘What’s the point in anything then?’ one of the other old women asked.

‘It’s all kicking off now,’ someone else commented.

Cody and I looked back at the TV. Sure enough there were violent protests breaking out all over the country. We saw police leaping out of vans, batons raised. We saw crowds charging down the streets of London. We saw windows being smashed.

‘I need to close up!’ the waitress yelled from somewhere. ‘We all need to go home!’

Cody held out his hand. ‘Care to dance?’

‘Dance?’ I took his hand. It was weathered and warm. He was a walking talking scarecrow with his straw-like blond hair sticking out from under his grey beanie. Under his black duffel coat I glimpsed a white t-shirt with The Clash emblazoned across it.

‘This could be the end,’ he said with another wink. He scooped up my bag and handed it to me and we left the cafe arm in arm, staring into each other’s eyes. ‘And if it is, I’d love to dance with you, Anya.’

‘Everyone always thinks it’s the end,’ I quipped, as we pushed through the doors and out into the rain. It soaked us in seconds but neither of us cared. We pulled our coats around us, linked arms again and started to walk along the side of the harbour.

‘True. There will be outrage and protests for a few days, then everyone will go back home and back to work like the good little sheep they are.’

‘Indeed they will. They’ll probably even vote for him again next time.’

‘His career won’t be over,’ Cody agreed. ‘He’ll find a way to milk it and monetize it. They always do. He’ll be on Celebrity Big Brother before you know it, winning the viewers over.’

‘You can almost predict it. Still,’ I caught his eye, ‘it was a hell of a thing to get caught saying.’

‘Yeah, but at the same time any reasonably intelligent person knew already, right? Yet somehow it’s a genuine shock to some people that the establishment don’t give a damn about them.’ Cody laughed and shrugged skinny shoulders under his heavy coat.

‘So, a dance?’ I reminded him.

‘Somewhere chaotic,’ he mused, looking around. ‘Somewhere we can watch the world end.’

‘Or plot its downfall?’

He flashed another dazzling smile. ‘Now you’re talking.’

‘Hilsborough Hill?’ I suggested, nodding to the rolling green hills that looked down on us and out to sea. ‘It’ll be beautiful up there this time of night.’

‘And just us, dancing in the rain.’

We set off, hand in hand, two perfectly dysfunctional strangers. While the small seaside town exploded in outrage behind us, we followed the harbour-side until we started to climb the majestic hills that looked down on it all. As we walked we heard glass shattering as windows were smashed in, cars screeching and crashing, people shouting, sirens blaring.

I agreed with Cody. It wouldn’t last long.

The Deputy Prime Minister’s cruel, cold words would be washed over in the days that followed. The media would brush them off and rewrite them. The truth would be painted over with another more digestible one. The tabloids would turn on the protesters and paint them as the true aggressors. Others would watch the violence from home and feel frightened and isolated. The excuses would begin.

He didn’t mean it. It was taken out of context. He’s only saying what we’re all thinking! I mean, come on, he’s not wrong, is he? He was only joking! No one can take a joke these days! He’s getting cancelled, that’s what it is. And anyway, he was right, wasn’t he?

The media would find a new story. They would wash it all away but I knew the truth wasn’t going anywhere. We knew. We had always known. He had confirmed our worst fears and he had, for the first time in a politician’s life, spoken the truth.

At the top of the hill the wind and rain swirled around us and Cody and I embraced.

‘It’s nice to meet you, Anya.’

‘You too. Feels like fate.’

‘It really does. What a day! And life is so short.’

‘It is. Just look at them.’

We looked. We saw the little town glittering back at us, small untidy lives and unfilled ambitions and dreams only glimpsed at night. We wouldn’t be like them, like slaves to the system. We would be free.

‘I’ve never felt so free,’ he said to me then. ‘I’m thankful to that twisted bastard for finally saying it.’

‘We were right all along,’ I replied and he nodded, pulling me into his chest. I could feel the bumps of his ribs and I watched the wind pulling at his hair, trying to free it from the woolen hat.

We held onto each other and danced. The darkness consumed us and the hill we stood on felt like nothing, like it wasn’t even there. The rain soaked us, the wind battered us and still we danced, out eyes closed, our bodies pressed together.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said then.

‘What is it?’

‘I’m getting sick of waiting,’ he said with a yawn. ‘Sick of waiting for the goddamn apocalypse. Even this won’t bring it you know. Not fast anyway, not fast enough for me. There will still be jobs and money and bills, right to the bitter end.’

‘You’re right,’ I said, looking up into his face. ‘Tomorrow they’ll all get in their cars and drive to work to make the money to pay the bills and then they’ll get old and die and never realise they were a slave to bastards like that. That he laughed at them all along.’

‘They’ll deny it,’ nodded Cody, ‘even to themselves. But I say, how about we wake them up?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I’ve been thinking about starting a movement. Anya, you and me, and a few others. There’s nothing left to lose, you know? He said it himself. We heard him say it in his own words.’

‘Yes, we caused climate change and we knew it all along and we didn’t care, and we still don’t care!’ I repeated the words Giles Forbes-Roberts had been caught on camera exclaiming with such arrogance, such gleeful light in his eyes.

‘They’re all going to die anyway,’ Cody continued, repeating the MP’s words and mocking his Eton bred accent. ‘That’s just the way it is. Jesus Christ, up here we all just wish it would hurry up, you know? Less of them would be better for us, that’s what we always say.’

‘Let them die,’ I grinned, ‘we’re quite happy to just let them die.’

Cody threw back his head and copied the raucous drunken laughter of the MP as he lounged against the bar with champagne in hand and no idea the young lady he was talking to was recording his every word.

‘Let them die!’ I shouted, spinning with Cody, dancing in the dark as if nothing could touch us. ‘Why don’t they just hurry up and die?’

‘Do you want to hear about my movement then?’ Cody asked, holding me close as we rocked and swayed to the music of the waves smashing the rugged cliffs below.

‘If it involves violence towards people like Giles, I’d love to.’