I just finished, as of today, a month of promotion for my most recent book, Make Me Yours, and I have to say, I'm exhausted. Can I get back to writing now? Please. Pretty pleeeeease.I didn't go to RWA national this year; I had too much to do and-- I confess-- I thought I could use the $2,000 better elsewhere. Like most of America I'm making more careful money decisions these days, and trying to make the most of each promotional opportuniy and each promotional dollar. So I did a lot of on-line interviews, blogs, a couple of talks to groups, stock signings, and participated in Ask the Author sessions that lasted weeks. . . for RT and the Cherry Forum's Book Discussion. We did a couple of viral e-blasts, produced a pod cast for Harlequin, and I did a couple of print interviews-- that unfortunately won't show up until the book is officially off the shelves. It may not sound like a lot, but each event took days of planning and execution, appointment making, driving, meeting, dressing, speech-writing, e-mail or blog checking. . . my poor ms sat untouched for three weeks!!
I'm used to spreading promo out over three or four months prior to, during, and just after release. This "series" kind of promotion where everything is focused more closely around the release month is very intense and totally new to me. So, I'm mentally exhausted and trying to find the creative sparks to continue to write.
And of course, with every round of "meet the public" I find myself wondering why it's so important that we romance/women's fiction writers put ourselves out there with our books and make ourselves so accessible.
The short answer is: that's our industry. The romance genre has grown and developed differently than the other publishing venues. A lot of it has grown on the backs of relationships between readers and writers, between authors and un-published writers, and between industry professionals and writers-- both published and not-yet-published. There are good aspects to it -- the sales, the camaradie, the good energy, the feelings of community and belonging. . . and of course the opportunity to garner reader reaction.
As a writer, most of the time I feel like a comedian playing to an empty house. It's hard to gauge reaction without seeing and meeting our readers. And no matter how many reviews you get that say you've written a good book, there's nothing like seeing the delight or excitement in a reader's face to make your day. Week. Month. Year.
However, there is another side to such interactions. . . one that writers whisper or groan about at conferences-- usually behind locked hotel room doors, for fear of alienating someone, anyone.
The plain truth is: there are readers who are far from complimentary, gracious, or even sane. There are readers who assume a deeper intimacy with a writer than is healthy (MISERy anyone?) and begin to track and follow a writer. Stalking potential is one reason that most writers use PO boxes for mail and have more than one e-mail address.
There are those readers who, no matter how friendly or generous or well-intentioned a writer is, become disappointed or jealous or feel deprived of the attention they're due and go to extremes. . . posting scathing critiques of books on sales outlets, slandering authors to other writers and in writer groups, posting hateful comments on author web sites or blogs. It's the equivalent of throwing temper tantrums in public. . . "Look at me, look at me-- I hate you!" A few show enough style and wit to make their venom publicly palatable and bring out the ugly and atavistic in others. . . these are the ones who build a reputation for being "cool" or "bitchy". . . and spend a great deal of energy tearing down other writers for fun and attention. (I have only one name in mind as I write this, but if you think I'm talking about you, here, then I probably am.)
I am a working writer with stories to tell and a life to live. I have had a child nearly die, a beloved husband die, lost two in-laws and two parents. . . all within a space of ten years. Through it all I kept writing. I am not saying this to curry sympathy; I'm simply stating the facts of my life. A number of my writer friends (including ones on this blog!) have gone though similar and even worse trials during similar periods. . . and they continued to produce books and honor the expectations of their publishers and readers.
It isn't easy, writing, when the very heart has been ripped from you or when you're so exhausted you can't see straight from caregiving. And yet many writers do it again and again. Yes, there are writers who lead charmed lives and who never seem to have troubles-- at least very few. But over time, the ups and downs of life catch up with us all.
There are times when writers simply can't be sociable or generous or gracious. . . and don't feel like broadcasting the details of their lives in explanation or apology. Frankly, we don't owe readers that. They have no right to demand explanations or excuses from us for their expectations. And when they do demand it-- we have to draw the line and step back from it-- refuse to play blame games or be hurt by their inappropriate reactions.
What we do owe readers is the best damned read we can produce. We cannot be responsible for the mood they are in when they pick up our books.
Half of a great read is the stuff a reader brings to the story-- images from the reader's own world that she supplies to furnish and upholster the story. If a reader is angry, distraught, skeptical, or bitter when they pick up our books, they're going to find a less than satisfying story. No way to avoid it. Remember "willing suspension of disbelief"? If a reader is determined to keep one foot outside that suspension of disbelief, there is nothing we as writers can do about it. There hasn't been a book or story published, anywhere, ever, that can't be torn apart by a cold, analytical approach that refuses to suspend disbelief and welcome the writer's voice. Shakespeare included. You can always find something to criticize in a book.
If a reader is not in the mood to be entertained, she won't be. Count on it.
So, there's my rant. I had intended to mention that one woman from someplace who posted nasty things on my own web site and went from on-line store to on-line store posting virulent slams about how terrible my book was and what a fraud I was. But honestly, I've forgotten her name and most of the details. And I can't tell you how pleased I am to realize that. Her problem is. . . her problem.
In writing the best book I could write, I have honored my sole contract with my readers. I've tried to be friendly and accessible and to share my thinking and my process with those who are interested. I've tried to be welcoming and helpful and supportive of my fellow blogmates here and of our wonderful readers and contributors. But I'm not perfect. If someone feels a great need to point that out, for their own purposes, that's their problem. . . not mine.
And here's the proof: some of the biggest names in the business are infamous for being awful to their fans and wretched to their peers. Yet, they sell like mad. And some of the sweetest, warmest, most evolved and compassionate people you'll ever meet. . . sell pitfully few books.
It makes sense when you think about it. How many of the 100,000 people who buy a book can possibly have met and been influenced by the writer's warmth and personality?
It's really all about the books themeselves, folks.
And right now. . . I need a nap.
Got a reaction to my relatively civilized rant? Let's hear it! Feel free. . .
