Last weekend, I had a rather tight schedule with a trek to a bookstore in La Grange, Kentucky for a signing event on Friday, followed by an arts and craft show closer to home on Saturday.
My emotions leading up to any sort of event are a mixed bag. The excitement of sharing my work with others forms a foul concoction when blended with an unhealthy dose of imposter syndrome. Add a shot of anxiety about forgetting something I need or putting my foot in my mouth and you have a cocktail I like to call a “Misery Martini”… shaken, not stirred.
If you’ve ever met me at such an event, you likely never guessed I was a bundle of raw nerves. I’ve had 51 years to perfect the facade of the guy who knows what he’s doing. I cover with humor and stories. I lean into my genuine pleasure to meet you…even while feeling like a fraud.
Thankfully, I know feeling like a fraud and being a fraud are too vastly different things. I can tell a story. I can build worlds. So, somewhere amid the anxiety, I find a way to rest on the stuff I feel confident about. While not every book is for every reader, I feel fairly certain that most people will enjoy reading The Christmas Cabin. When I tell someone All That Waits in the Night was inspired by my love of The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery and see their eyes light up, I assume they’ll enjoy the ride if they buy my spooky little book.
On Friday, at the lovely From The Ground Up Books and Resources in the aforementioned La Grange, the rain kept foot traffic to a minimum. And those who braved the weather did not do so to have awkward conversations with the author they’d never heard of. An author who, by the way, feels compelled to at least engage a little. I usually ask what they like to read. If they say a genre I’m active in, I’ll suggest my book. If they answer with a genre I don’t write, or haven’t written yet, I’ll recommend a fellow author. (It’s not commission work, but we indie folks have to look out for each other!)
On Friday, most people responded with “mystery/thriller”, which is not my area. I used the opportunity to recommend DiAnn Mills, whom I recently met at last summer’s Imaginarium convention in Louisville. DiAnn is not only a skilled writer of 97 books but a compassionate and gracious woman. She doesn’t need my support, but it’s an honor to point readers in her direction.
I’ll be honest, friends. I was a bit bummed about the lack of foot traffic and the tepid response of those who wandered in. Not that I thought my presence would drive people into the shop, but because it was my first ever bookstore event…and I likely built up the notion of what it could be in my imagination. But then…
A couple wandered in near the end of the event, hunting for books for their grandchildren. A conversation ensued about Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, which led to them asking questions about the publishing industry and the changes I’ve seen over the last 5 years. The more we talked, the more comfortable I felt. So comfortable, in fact, that the time to pack up my table and vacate came and went while we chatted. It turns out they know several of my Imaginarium friends and bought a copy of my book just as I started packing up.
I doubt they’ll ever see this, but Larry and Peggy DeKay, you made this writer’s day with your kindness and insightful discussion. While sales didn’t go the way I’d hoped on Friday, you made the trip to La Grange worthwhile. And From The Ground Up Books and Resources was a lovely place to perch for a few hours. The rain did nothing to dampen my appreciation for your invitation.
The next morning, bright and early, I packed up some books, a few prints of my artwork, and my 13-year-old son and headed for the Sellersburg Fall Festival and Craft Show. This was only my second event of this type, and it was exhausting and exhilarating. I say exhausting because hauling heavy books (I need a cart!) is hard on my back. I say exhilarating because I had the best conversations with folks and sold past my goal for the day.
My son, Jacob, has wanted to work at an event with me for some time. I always balked at the idea because he gets antsy when he has to stay in one place for long. But this event was to have food trucks, bounce houses, and lots of cool crafts to see, so I gambled on the notion that he’d be able to last the 6 hours…and boy, did he!
He took it upon himself to pass out flyers (that were just meant to be a takeaway from my table) which led person after person to my booth. Many of them told me what a polite young man I had working for me. Over those 6 hours, Jacob more than proved he could be an invaluable help to his old man, and he did it all with a smile on his face.
The day overflowed with so many unique moments. It was the first time someone stopped by my table to tell me they had already read some of my work (The Christmas Cabin) and recommended it to friends. Another person came by, who had received a copy of my little Christmas tale as a gift from a mutual friend. She also mentioned that she sees me in our local coffee shop all the time. I told her to be sure and say hello the next time she spots me in the wild.
The woman selling tumblers in the booth behind me bought two books from me before the day was over and mentioned that she’d been reading books from another regional favorite. When I asked her who, she mentioned my friend, Stephen Zimmer. I was delighted to tell her that Stephen was currently editing my fantasy series. On and on, the day brought fun and joyful interactions. And my nerves and that naysayer called Self-Doubt grew quieter and quieter.
If you’ve read this far, you may wonder why I’m telling you all this. Well, simply put, it’s because we all face moments of struggle–days or ever seasons where anxiety or intimidation threatens to stop our forward momentum. We can’t let it. Every time I feel unsure of myself, something good stumbles into my story to remind me that larger hands are at work in the mess and the mire. Every time I wonder if what I do matters, someone brings a kind word or talks to me excitedly about this passion we share for the written word.
Don’t let anxiety or imposter syndrome keep you from your goals. Put that “Misery Martini” down. Your voice is unique. Your path is your own. If, like me, you find it hard to believe in yourself…then let’s believe in each other.
