The Hitting Of Walls
When Enthusiasm Curbs Itself <NOTE: apologies if this is a repeat email- Substack glitched the original issue- sorry for the inconvenience. Please notify me if you aren’t seeing this 🤔🤣>
Hitting The Book Launching—Marketing Wall
Did you ever carry a load of packages to UPS and feel awkward and empty-handed when you left? More to the point, do you know that flat feeling, the post-event planning ‘I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself’ uselessness?
In the months leading up to a book launch, you organize and coordinate production schedules with interview opportunities. You may have hired a publicist to handle it and guide you through it. There’s sleeplessness and a buzz through your bones as if you’d consumed a Venti at every Starbucks on every other corner. The high is addictive and nerve-wracking as launch day approaches and the partying begins. There’ll be book signings, events, festivals, podcasts, interviews and so much more. Exhilarating.
Shy? Introverted? No matter. You’ll push yourself out front, learn to speak in public, and holy crap—sell yourself and your book so hard your friends will run when you approach. But you’re on a roll. Sales are decent. Bookstagrammers are mentioning you. Reviews are (mostly) favorable. We’re doing this!
By the end of the first three months, your contract ends and your publicist bids you adieu. You’re on your own to do it and you grasp how. Except you lose steam. Hit your wall. Can not market a grain of salt, let alone your book. You move aimlessly, trying to reignite the excitement.
Deep down, you know a book launch is a tortoise paced race. Three months is the kickoff and you can take your time getting to the end game. This is your opportunity to recharge and get back to the thing we’ve all been craving during our launch—writing.
Gift yourself the time to get back to the craft and nurture yourself and your next book.
Whoa! How did you know I was thinking that?
Have you ever read someone’s article, and it makes you go, “Whoa, they can hear my thoughts?” Currently in a very stuck-stuckiness with the next manuscript, Boola Bos words hit me spot on:
“It’s not that you’re lazy or unmotivated. It’s that you’re overloaded with responsibilities and struggling to prioritize your writing. You’re doing everything for everyone else rather than focusing on your own creative work.”
Read the article and suggested solutions here 😊
Read It:
Thanks to the aforementioned book launch, I fell far short of my reading goals for 2024. Here are a few of the favorites I hope you’ll check out
Are you looking for your next great Book Club pick?
Join Adventure’s By the Book’s Pitchfest
16 fan-favorite authors, including New York Times, international, and bestselling authors, as well as authors you may be meeting for the first time will deliver 16 fast paced and fun presentations to help you choose your 2025 reads (plus *Giveaways*)
And Now For Something Completely Serious…
🚫 Intellectual Activity
For those of you just joining us, the story begins with a diagnosis of a small brain aneurysm which required surgery when it grew to 4mm. You can read details in the Snarkastic archives.
So I’ve survived brain surgery. Bravo, you say. Now what?
During the readiness planning phase, as I prepared for potential demise, I also prepped for recovery. There were a slew of books I’d waited to read, and of course, manuscript editing. Easy and relaxing things to do while supine.
When the doctor instructed “no intellectual activity,” it didn’t seem plausible that reading and writing, my favorite entertainment, fit that category.
Whining is not effective. Pleading a useless waste of energy. The medical advice was still the same. Were they serious? I should lie on my back counting ceiling pock marks for the next two weeks?
Um, yes. Pumped up on blood thinners—if you looked at me I’d bruise—I was still at risk for stroke and other complications. Swell. Release me from the hospital with the potential for dying. Isn’t that what I came to fix? Thanks, bud.
The motion of the car ride home nearly did me in. Bright lights were painful in my eyes, noises were an assault. A hangover would have been easier. Whoever invented blackout shades is my hero.
Because my aneurysm hadn’t ruptured, I never experienced that worst headache of your life symptom—until my first night home. While my head felt like it might explode, a wave of nausea overcame me. You can’t vomit, sneeze, or do anything uncontrolled if you have a brain aneurysm or new stents in there. Cue increased terror. My doctor assured me it was “JUST” a migraine. I was incredulous, but relief came by morning. I understood, then, that overtaxing your brain hurts! The brain is an organ, and mine had been traumatized. It was going to be a slow recovery. Patience was something I needed to grow accustomed to. By the second afternoon, I was remarkably better. And bored. There was no harm in peeking at my computer, right? I squinted as the screen light hit my eye, quickly lowered the brightness and typed my password. And then the universe crashed my computer.
Last Licks
Our hearts go out to all those affected by the LA fires
Amen on the book buzz burnout : )