My first book presentation was a terrifying prospect for me… So much so that I managed to postpone it for more than a year, hoping I would get away with never celebrating the launch of my book. Maybe my book would still reach its readers through searches on Amazon and referrals through friends. I also kid myself by saying it would be so much better to just concentrate on my next book instead of wasting my time talking about my last book. After all, writers write, and my book was “out there”. So, what was the problem?
The problem was of course that nobody knew about my book. Even if someone knew, he or she wouldn’t have a clue that I considered it to be my personal masterpiece, that I had planned to write before I would die. That it was the book that would have knocked me out of my socks if I would have read it myself. That I considered it part of my legacy, the thoughts, and insights I wished to be remembered by after I die, at least by my children and my children’s children…
Even if a person knew what the book meant to me, this would seldom encourage them to read my book. After all: what’s a masterpiece or a legacy worth of a person who’s standing on a soap box all alone in the park?
It didn’t help that I would consistently be so shy and vague about it. “What’s your book about?”, a person would ask from time to time. I would mutter something about the big life questions, that you can find out if God exists or not by reading my book and that is was written in a creative way. Sometimes I would add that you can also give God another name like Cake or Love if it makes you feel better or that I shared my knowledge as a modern-day mystic in this book.
The word God was usually enough to scare off most potential readers, especially in the Netherlands. “Oh, she’s one of those…”, they appeared to be thinking, after which they would make some retreating comments, backing out of a deal in which they would be forced to read about God or interact with someone who had obviously lost her sense of reality.
“The word God was usually enough to scare off most potential readers, especially in the Netherlands”
I challenged myself to do better than that. I had to be able to talk about my book in a way that would invoke some interest. Especially because my first few hundred readers, had confirmed that there was a lot to be loved in those pages. Some cried, some laughed, some did both, and almost all readers liked my style and my way of explaining certain concepts.
The circle was also growing larger than only people I knew personally, with readers from nine countries in the world. I received a fan mail from a stranger, telling me that she had received a beautiful answer from God after she had followed my advice. It made me cry when I read her story.
So I decided to organize a small-scale reader event in my hometown, almost 1,5 years after the launch of my (still unseeked) book Seek the Unseekable on Amazon. I dubbed it the Early Fan Night and invited people by mail and Facebook. Nothing about it felt comfortable. If anything, it gave me more fear than I ever had before.
The worst part was going to the bank and getting 300-euro worth of change, so I would have an abundance of small bills and coins to pay people back after they would purchase an entrance ticket or a book. It felt enormously awkward and risky, especially after so many years of financial troubles. But I forced myself to move through all the discomfort. It just had to be done, and one day I would be really good at it, I vowed to myself with clenched teeth.
An hour before the people arrived, I was a nervous wreck. My husband joked about it and said everything would be fine. But I knew it was a lie. I had worked half the day to prepare for the event, but somehow hadn’t managed to prepare my presentation and the cute, little presents I had wanted to give to my guests with a code for a free e-book inside.
“My husband joked about it and said everything would be fine. But I knew it was a lie”
When the first guests arrived, I still wore no make-up, I just found out I had bought the wrong size coffee pads for the coffee machine and the machine had suddenly started to pour out water with no cup in place. To just name three of at least ten things that were definitely not in shape yet.
The guests were lovely and admired the venue. “Do you come here often?”, they smiled, assuming that I must be a regular yoga client of Heart House, to be able to rent their stylishly decorated living room. “No, this is my first time”, I muttered… “I found them on the internet…”.
Somehow, I managed to slap my make up on in the ladies room, serve my guests filtered coffee and even move self-confidently through the event, appearing as if it was my daily business. For sheer lack of preparation, I just relied on my improvisation talent, telling myself that if anybody could talk for hours about my book without any preparation, it would have to be me. So, I should be ok…
I first told my guests about the surreal circumstances of my very first book, a youth novel that I had to write within six weeks for a Dutch publisher when I was still in my twenties. It’s a crazy story. Everybody was laughing. We were with thirteen people, all sitting around a huge, rustic table of about ten meters long. I decided I might as well ask the guests to shortly introduce themselves to get an interactive vibe going.
They all introduced themselves, told the others how they knew me and what they thought of my work, adding their preferred language for the book (Dutch or English). My sixteen-year-old adopted son Paco, had been handling the ticket sale at the door as a real pro. His introduction was short and sweet: “My name is Paco. I know Barbara since I was 3 months old and I think her book is best in English.”
“His introduction was short and sweet: “My name is Paco. I know Barbara since I was 3 months old and I think her book is best in English”
I started reading chapter two, about my first mystical experience as a teenager in search of God’s existence. I enjoyed reading this part, just as I had enjoyed talking about my experiences as a writer. At the same time, I felt sorry for my guests that I more or less forced them to listen to me. One of the guests looked as if he was having a hard time. He rested his forehead and his eyes in his hands as if he was getting emotional. Although he wasn’t making any sniffing sounds, it looked intense, as he remained in this position during the entire chapter.
I managed to keep on reading, even when my husband got up, and moved behind me to pour me a drink, just when I reached an emotional part. It was hard to concentrate. It made me remember that we hadn’t made any video- or audio clip of my presentation. I first hoped he would be filming. But he wasn’t… So, what was he doing? All these thoughts make it difficult to focus on reading. I didn’t touch the drink because I wasn’t thirsty. Later he explained to me that my voice had sounded dry…
My biggest surprise was the reaction of my listeners. They wanted me to read another chapter and adamantly agreed with each other that I should use my expressive voice and way of storytelling much more often. They loved to be read a story by me, and they loved to listen to my experiences! To the level that they even felt compelled to read my book!
“My biggest surprise was the reaction of my listeners. They wanted me to read another chapter”
Could this be true? That I never realized that I had another obvious talent besides my creative writing? And that this talent was the same thing I had been avoiding all this time: to speak about my writing? Wow, I didn’t see that coming!
So, thank you, dear Early Fans for accompanying me so generously in my path of self-discovery as a writer and a speaker. I will be hosting many more reader events, small or big, now that I have tasted its sweetness and solidarity.
Of course I made some beginner mistakes that I will avoid in the future. In our family evaluation at the end of the evening we made a whole list of them, ranging from no fee for drinks (when you sell entrance tickets) to not staring at my guests when I’m reading.
To clarify the latter: my husband had told me that I had been glancing at my guest with his head in his hands a lot during my reading, which according to him had made everyone stare at me, why I was glancing at the guest so much… “But I thought he was almost crying!”, I reacted in defense. “And it made me tell the story even better!” We got into an argument about it. I even wanted him to stop talking, as I started to feel more and more indignant and insulted.
My wise and cool son Paco, who is also a performing guitar player since a few months, came to my rescue. “Mom did well for her first time”, he told us. “All the important things of the evening went right.”
We gave each other a group hug and headed home on our three bikes with all the bags and boxes. As we peddled back through the night, I could see a future where our cooperation would grow to professional levels, maybe even become our main source of income and adventures.
So, can I recommend it to another yet undiscovered, self-published author on Amazon? Absolutely! It was scary as hell for me, but I’ve never felt so much support for my writing.
I must admit that I didn’t break even with my costs, even though the entrance fee was five euro per person. This was mainly due to the rent for the room — 120 euro for a few hours is quite steep and although the place was utterly charming, I will definitely look for a cheaper venue next time. I also didn’t expect to sell only three books during the evening!
On the upside half of my guests had a book already. Now they were actually going to READ the book, which had been the missing part in their experience. Most guests said that they had a good time, agreed to be on my mailing list and wanted to attend the next Early Fan Night. Two guests wanted to be more actively involved and offered to proofread my new stories and books.
The unexpected effect it had on myself was by far the best reason to do it again. I would never have guessed how interacting with my readers would motivate and inspire me so much and in so many ways!
It made me look for an old manuscript the guests had been curious about, which I found the next day. When I read some parts again, I could see what was great, but also what could be stronger. It just needed some reworking and polishing…
It made me curious how I could use my voice, video clips and performance to promote my work better in the future, wanting to experiment with this, and waking up the next day with a happy, new idea: how I could transform my book into a play.
It made me want to translate my work in Dutch, now that I finally understood how it is for non-bilinguals. For me English might be a more intimate, poetic, and creative way of expressing myself, that’s even hard for me to translate in Dutch. But for most Dutch people (however skilled in English) it still is a foreign language, that’s further away from them rather than closer, especially in a personal, narrative style.
Most importantly: it made me happy that I’m an actual and authentic writer with actual and authentic readers to interact with. No more fears or doubts from now on. I am finally who I was always intended to be. Just more growth and joy on a path that will hopefully be long and prosperous!
Barbara Dagmar de Roos
This blog was originally posted on Medium.com on November 30, 2017https://medium.com/@BarbaraDagmar/to-host-or-not-to-host-a-book-presentation-6493b1ec1a70
