Saturday, December 31, 2016


As an artist it's hard for me to treat my writing as a job, but that's what I have to do. I have to plan and make deadlines for myself. I can't just write when I feel like it. I have to set time aside for writing and write, research or plot during that time. Between a full time job, a part time job, family and writing, it's hard for me to keep my shit together. Throw any new stress my way, and things get really messy. 

I was planning on having both The Artist and The Zombie Book out before Christmas this year...but crazy drama and a massively debilitating sickness on the home front put a damper in my productivity. The Zombie Book is only half written and it took everything I had to get The Artist out before 2017...I wanted the my favorite editor to have one more go at it and I wanted my favorite model to adorn the cover, but I couldn't have either if if was to hit the digital shelves before midnight...I will change the cover later, but it's out and it's good. 

Starting in the new year I'm taking 85 hours worth of classes for a part time social working job on top of my full time job, family and writing, so maybe I'm being overly ambitious, but I'm hoping to have The Zombie Book out in a few months and then have the 2nd Serial Series Novella (The Librarian) out by Fall 2017

Tuesday, December 27, 2016


I seem to always be searching for the best covers for my books, but I usually come back to these drawings...

So if I go back to my black ink drawings, this might be the new cover for Toxic Warrior, Raina Kirkland book 5. What do you think?

Monday, December 26, 2016


So every December I price my books at $0.99 because I know how the holidays can destroy your budget, and I figure that if someone needs an escape from the madness and their blessed heart chooses one of my novels to do so, then I'll make it easier for them. But, time and time again I find that people don't want to buy 99 cent books. 

Normally my books are $3.99 each. Which is about $1 profit to me, and the books sell okay...I mean, they're no hot cakes by any means. But I feel my sales aren't too shabby for a nobody with no marketing talent, no massive fan base and no consistently charming presence on social media...At lower prices, $0.99, $1.99 and $2.99...the books don't sell. I don't understand it, but $3.99 seems to be a good place. 

A lot of more famous authors sell there digital books at outrageous prices, like $15.99...what is that, like $13.00 profit per book...But then again, they have people working for them, huh? Marketers, editors, assistance, agents. I just have me. Then again, again, they're selling books in the thousands or millions, MILLIONS! I'm literally selling tens of books, TENS! LOL 

I'm getting the itch to redesign my covers again...for the what, fifth time in as many years...we'll see. Do you think my covers truly reflect my books?

Friday, December 16, 2016

Some Jokes.... Or Whatever

Sometimes I'm kind of But I forget my jokes all the time. People are forever telling me to do stand up or write comedy for a living, but I'm far too insecure to do anything about it. I'm fairly certain that if someone put a camera in my face and was like, "3, 2, 1, be funny now." I'd just shit myself. At the very least piss myself. I've always had a weak bladder and laughter is the enemy of a weak bladder. It sucks. When people laugh, I laugh. When people cry, I give a shit usually, but if someone is laughing at my joke, I will totally crack the fuck up...and then inevitably pee myself...Maybe I could wear Depends or something. I don't know.

I do sometimes tweet or Facebook post things I find humorous, but I've been told that most of what makes me funny is my timing, inflection and facial these things don't transfer well in writing.

Like, people are always put off by someone eating phallic shaped food. Hot dogs, gross! Bananas, OMG! Right? But no one bats an eye at someone guzzling down milk, just swallowing all that...oh well. Maybe you're not laughing at that funny observation, but believe me, there's like a 75% chance that you would be laughing if you saw and heard me deliver it...Is it a compliment when someone says your face makes it so much more funny...Uh, thanks...

People are always seeking happiness, but I think I'd be much more fulfilled with a whole more ways than one. ^_^

You can picture a butt farting in slow motion. How the butt cheeks clap together...I don't mind if my butt claps when I fart, but if it asks for an encore I'm going to freak out.

Sorry, dirty mind, dirty jokes.

A video posted by Diana Graves (@dianagravesnovel) on

You know what...If I get more than 100 comments from different people on this post, I will go to an open mike stand up comedy thing in Seattle, Wa.

Thursday, December 8, 2016


It really is the season of giving; as in giving all our money away! As if dishing out massive money for presents isn't enough electricity & food costs more in December, and all those hours at work don't seem to add up to anything at all...

Right now I'm feeling the pinch big time because a pipe busted and that cost money to fix and clean up, then we had to have some electrical work done, costing nearly $3,000! So, yeah our mortgage will just have to be paid late for the first time ever, and I'm still not done Christmas shopping...

So as you can see, I know how hard this time of the year can be. And doesn't it just make you sick that the time when you want to escape into a story the most is the time when you can't afford to buy a new book? 

For this reason I've made all my books just 0.99 cents each for the full month of December. 

Friday, December 2, 2016


I'm Tired

Madeline Kahn

Here I stand, the goddess of Desire
Set men on fire
I have this power
Morning noon and night it's drink and dancing
Some quick romancing
And then a shower
Stage door Johnnies always surround me
They always hound me
With one request
Who can satisfy their lustful habits
I'm not a rabbit

I need some rest
I'm tired
Sick and tired of love
I've had my fill of love
From below and above
Tired, tired of being admired
Tired of love uninspired
Let's face it
I'm tired
I've been with 1000's of men
Again and again
They promise the moon
They always coming and going
Going and coming
And always too soon
Right girls?

I'm tired
Tired of playing the game
Ain't it a crying shame
I'm so tired
God dammit I'm exhausted

The rest of the lyrics can be found at But that is pretty much me right now. ...but not with sex. That is the one thing I could do with more of. I can count on one hand how many times the hubby and I have had time for such things this year, and that's a crying shame. No, I'm tired of pretty much everything else.

Renovating the house was such a stress. I told myself, "Oh as soon as it's on the market, I can finally rest!" It was on the market for 2 days! Now it's paperwork, contracts, electrician bills that kill and waiting, OH THE WAITING IS KILLING ME!!! Will they buy it? Won't they? Will their lender let them buy it?


Of the two novellas I started in October, The Artist is really close to being done. Just some tightening of the plot and some editing...The Zombie Book is still about halfway done. I was hoping to have them both done by now and in the final editing stages, but I am behind. I blame myself. I can't seem to write at home. Not a word. At work, I can usually carve out an hour after all my work is done, but these past four weeks I can't think at night. My brain is drained. I'm exhausted in the worst way. Red Bull alone sustains me.

My eyes are burning as I'm writing this...I don't know if it's the mental and emotional drain of selling my home and living with my mother during the processes (not that my mom is the problem. It's being the official diplomat between my family and my husband, that's the fun bit)

Maybe my love for writing would win out against my lack of focus if I had some reviews for my latest book, Toxic Warrior. That's not me fishing for reviews. I'm just stating a fact. It's hard to be a self starter when you're never certain of yourself or what you're doing. Toxic has been out for more than two months now and sales are low and there are zero reviews...that sort of thing makes an artist think, maybe I'm wasting my time. And when you start to think like that, writing becomes a reminder of a failure.

So there I am: in financial, emotional, artistic limbo...