Beating the book launch blues

Let me be clear. I’m over the moon to have a novel coming out (in exactly two weeks!). It’s been my dream for decades, and I realize that any problems that come from that experience are good problems to have. All hail You Could Be Happy Here!

Writers today do most of what publishers used to do (a long time ago).
Hence Too Many Hats

And yet. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this combination of joy and anxiety. The anxiety is made up of equal parts fear of exposure and comparing myself to others. I dread readers seeing through my fictional creations to the flawed human being underneath. And I imagine that my work will be judged for not being as pithy as Claire Keegan’s, as subversive as Ursula K. Le Guin’s, or as epic as the work of Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Ridiculous, I know. To put my work in the same sentence as those masters is presumptuous, even if I’m lamenting that I don’t measure up. But I became a writer because I’m a reader, first and foremost, and I imagined that when I finally brought my own book into the world, it would rub elbows with all the best books I’ve read.

It feels more like I’m perched at the feet of the masters, offering up a trinket, paying tribute to their genius.

Comparing oneself to others is the road to eternal dissatisfaction, I know, but sometimes I just can’t help it. I worry that X is getting more and better reviews. Y seems to have boundless energy to pitch media, podcasts, and writers’ conferences, and her efforts are paying off. Z had a ton of people at her book launch event, and it was a lovefest. I have three book launch events coming up in the San Francisco Bay Area, and I was thinking, if ten people show up at each event, I’d be happy. Ok, not happy. But not surprised.

I’ve been posting on social media, but I am very far behind compared to what other authors I know are doing to promote books coming out soon. Some have hired publicists—an expensive proposition. You’re supposed to start at least six months before pub date. Apart from the time issue, I’m weary of wearing so many hats, from publicist to blurb beggar to event planner to social media maven to graphic designer (hello, Canva!).

I have so much to do that all I want to do is watch Dexter reruns (alongside the new Dexter: Resurrection). You know: so much to do that you can’t do any of it, and even if you do, it feels like you’re never doing enough.

I’m a slow learner, but it finally dawned on me: you have to celebrate what you’ve already managed to do, and then slowly move forward, one step at a time. In the last week, I’ve focused on getting the word out about my book and my three book launch events. After my book launches, I can focus on pitching media and podcasts and writer’s conference. Many conferences stipulate that your book has to have come out in the last year if you want to apply to be part of a panel or give a talk. That gives me another year! Woo-hoo! It may be too late for some media coverage, but not all of it.

About getting the word out. I shook off my paralysis, and decided to learn from example. Writers learn from other writers not just how to write, but how to bring a book into the world.

Case in point: a writer pal of mine, Mary Alice Stephens, recently launched her memoir, Uncorked, with a wonderful event at Book Passage Corte Madera that drew over 150 people. She and I are part of a zoom meet-up with Bay Area authors whose work is published by Sibylline Press. Mary generously explained her process.

But first, it goes without saying that you need to write the best book you possibly can, and to be ready to work like a sled dog to promote it.

Before her book launch event, Mary sent out at least 400 emails, to alumni associations, former co-workers, the recovery community (the memoir is about quitting alcohol), and many others. I don’t know 400 people. I don’t even know 150 people, the number who turned out for her event.

But wait. I’ve lived a long life, and I keep good records.

You can promote your book in many ways. One way is to focus on the setting. Everyone loves a hometown story.

My novel is set mostly in Costa Rica. Two decades ago, I moved there, spending several years researching and writing Living Abroad in Costa Rica, now in its fifth edition. Last week, I dove back into my files, which was like visiting another country, another self—the self that crisscrossed Costa Rica solo, speaking with hundreds of people, in English and Spanish, for a 440-page guide that covers everything from health care to labor law. I had piles of business cards and scraps of paper that said something like “Nina O., met in Samara, doesn’t believe in western medicine,” with her email address noted.

Many of the emails I’d collected were old and probably out of service: hotmail, yahoo, and racsa.co.cr, the email address that became moot in 2019 when that Costa Rican company stopped providing email service. But many were probably still good. If I remembered the individual or organization, I personalized the email; for teachers and schools, for example, I pointed out that my protagonist was a grade school science teacher.

Aside from the folks I spoke with as I researched my guide, other people who later read my published guide emailed me with follow-up questions. Other people came to readings and talks and signed up for my mailing list. Still others were private clients who had wanted more personalized service when it came to making the move to Costa Rica.

I sent out over 150 Costa Rica-related emails, consisting of a short note and a graphic that had the book cover, a few blurbs, a synopsis of the book. Even if I don’t hear back from most of them, news of my book is out there, circulating, and best of all, I got to revisit that part of my life, to be reminded of how adventuresome I’d been, how hard I’d worked, and how much fun I’d had in Costa Rica.

Next up, former students. These were easy to personalize because the connection was more recent, and because writing workshops are intimate and intense. I remember my students and their work. This group of emails got the most response—lots of congratulations, and some wanting to know more about my Bay Area book events. But even if only a few former students show up for the events or buy the book, I was reminded of how much I love to teach writing and how I love to hear how former students are doing.

Then I sent out about 90 emails to friends and family. I suspect some of them are tired of me tooting my own horn about the book on social media, but a few wrote back who obviously hadn’t heard the news, and were happy to hear it.

Of course I worry about overwhelming people with news of my book. It’s hard to strike a balance. Then again, this novel is a very long time in coming, and I don’t know if there will be another in my lifetime.

As of this writing, I’ve sent almost 300 emails. I still have piles of more emails to enter into my Contacts app, but I don’t know whether I’ll have time to do that amid all the other things that accompany a book launch, like buying wine for the events, ordering mugs with my book cover on them, and—the biggie—deciding what to wear.

Thanks for reading this far. If you’re in the Bay Area, I would love to see you at one of my book events.