Ah, The Joys of Being a Writer

 RHYS BOWEN:

As all of you know by now, I've just had a new book published. This has meant almost daily Zoom interviews, including one scary one in which I just had to talk to the little camera on my Mac with no interaction with the audience until questions at the end. Was anyone there, I wondered. What had I already said? Wasn't it completely boring? 

The interviews are better, but by the end of the day I tell John that my cheeks hurt from so much smiling. You can't look grumpy on Zoom.

So no in person book tour this time. It did not make sense to visit Phoenix and Houston when the temperature was too hot to venture outside. So... the stores send me books to be signed. I lug in heavy cartons. I sit. I sign. I repack.

When I was a teenager I wrote a poem about a writer.

It began, “He sits in his lonely garret.

Night and day his fingers pound the keys… and there was something about words escaping from his churning brain.

But that was how I thought of a writer in those days. Alone. In his garret. Creating madly.

The funny thing is that the creating madly is only a small part of what we do today. Before we write we have an idea. This leads to a proposal, or outline that my agent, then editor has to approve. Then comes the creating madly part.

But then the work starts. Publicity wants blogs, and videos and gives us graphics to put up on our social media. It is expected that we have a Facebook page, Instagram, X… I draw the line at Tiktok. Oh, and a newsletter for which we have to harvest subscribers. And answer endless fan mail, and send off review copies, and hold contests and mail stuff to winners. This means  buying padded mailers, writing envelopes, ongoing trips to the post office. All of this, of course, takes time and energy.

Usually there are book tours. When I was newly published I dreamed of these… being whisked around in a limo, stepping out to adorning fans, staying at posh hotels, flying to the next town.  All of those are true, but they are exhausting. A few days are fine. By the second week I can’t remember the name of my hotel, let alone my room number (I’ve learned to take a picture of the door so I won’t forget). An airport a day is not fun. Neither is being crammed into a plane (usually one of those regional aircraft with five inches of seat space). And there is never a time to eat. Five o’clock before the event is too early. Nine thirty after the event is too late. Most nights it’s cheese and crackers and a glass of wine to help me sleep. That fancy hotel restaurant never sees me. And the car comes at six in the morning to fly on to the next town so breakfast is oatmeal at Starbucks as I wait for my plane.

I don’t want this to sound like whining because I realize how very grateful I am. I know many writers would love to have this chance, and what’s more I love, love, love, meeting the fans, hearing their stories. I am so touched when I hear that my books made a difference at a tough time in their lives.

In my early days I was not sent on a publisher’s tour. I set up a tour with other writers and what fun that was. We’d get back to the hotel room at night, flop onto our beds, and laugh at the absurdity of what had happened that day. We’d drive through thunderstorms and, on one occasion, because I was navigating pre-smart phones, I directed Lyn to drive into the center of Manhattan by mistake. It was comforting to have a buddy to commiserate with when the crowd was two people and to cheer with when things went well. I miss those happy times!

All Jane Austen had to do was send off her manuscripts then take a nice walk through a charming little wilderness nearby. I wonder how many books she would have written if she’d had to do all the social media for Pride and Prejudice?

Authors, what do you dislike most about social media and publicity? And readers what do you like best about staying in touch or meeting your favorite authors?