It won’t have escaped anyone’s notice that I have a book coming out soon. And having to type that, is part of the reason to write this post. I’m well aware I’m annoying to some folks about it. I’m well aware it’s in part tedious to listen to. But also the anxiety of being tedious and annoying is well tedious and annoying.
And while, for those who find me tedious and annoying, this blog isn’t sadly dedicated to that, it is, as we near publication another of these ‘let’s be honest about making books’ posts.
Let me start by saying so far this is probably my favourite book writing experience to date. Even with a few bumps in the road, both the subject matter, the editorial process and the support I’ve received have made it a joy. And I hope it continues to be. But that said, doesn’t mean it’s not hard too.
It’s hard in a practical sense in that it’s A Lot and it’s hard in an emotional sense in that well it’s A Lot.
Practically speaking first;
I’m doing nine book events (so far) in four weeks (it was 10). Those are the ‘turn up and talk about it’ variety. Potentially (hopefully) adding in some podcasts YouTube and whatnot into that mix. While also social media/blog/press reviewing and writing. That’s a lot. It covers Bristol, Brighton, Birmingham and South/West Wales.
Adding into that mix because life-is-gonna-life, I have traveled to Manchester, London then London again for gigs right before and right in the middle of it. Some might argue this is actually the fault of Noah Reid and The National for very inconsiderately putting their gigs too close together. But anyway. Add into that my job is likely to take me to a couple of places away from home for a day at least once each in that time. Add to that it’s also hockey season, and I can’t be expected to go a month without seeing my boys (ok, that one’s on me). But I’m also evening teaching (in addition to my day job) and theatre reviewing (another side job) in that time….in short, the rest of life doesn’t stop just because you’ve got a book out.
But life is gonna life and while I’m in a lucky position where I have some flexibility in my work, I still…well, work. Now past me was at least sensible enough to book some leave in this- originally, I’d planned to work while traveling/condense my hours, etc. I saw sense and used up my leave…but that’s also now a chunk of leave where I don’t get…well, time off. Because while this sort of creative work is a joy, it’s still work. Much like writing books, it involves using ‘holiday’ or ‘free time’ borrowed from traditional work to get it done. Added to that my ‘day job’ is again in unfortunate timing, at a place where it’s busy with a culmination of this project’s work. It’s just a ballache of a time on all fronts.
What does this mean? Other than the fact I’ll be a terrible friend and barely functioning human for a few weeks? What it means really is any of us lucky enough to get this far in the process of book writing work really hard to make sure the rest of the hard work pays off, often at the expense of other things (personal life, eating vegetables, sleep).
I’ll also add that while I’m in a privileged position where my publisher can contribute to my travel expenses, doing this stuff also comes at a financial cost (feeding yourself and other day-to-day expenses while traveling), and none of this is a complaint. Still, it feels like we should be transparent about it. To make it super clear, authors don’t get paid for book events (Unless you’re a super famous author who probably didn’t write their book anyway…wait, that’s another rant). So we’re talking about, in my calculation around 40 hours plus of unpaid work this month on the book tour (That’s the events themselves averaging 2 hours each, travel to them all, prep of writing various talks, and admin/social media promotion of each). So a full working week’s extra work (unpaid) again, while it generates book sales (hopefully!), doesn’t equate to a week’s salary even on my terrible wages. And I am thrilled to have the opportunity, but it’s also important to be transparent, I think. And it does add up in monetary terms, too- buying lunches, dinners, coffees, and drinks out for all those things adds up, and I’ve had to factor into September budgets. Again, it's just transparency/reality.
Now that’s not the point, but it is the point. Because creative work, fun work, is still work. And it is important to talk about. You can be incredibly grateful for the opportunity but also acknowledge how hard the challenges of it are. This isn’t an academic book, but if it were as well, I don’t have an academic job this book isn’t considered part of my ‘work’ but a ‘side hustle’ and again in comparison to academic friends (who don’t get a lot of time/money to support their books either, but I get zero) I’m doing another kind of juggle to make it work (as are all the other small-scale authors out there like me).
‘Well you get book sales out of it’
Yes, and that’s the aim. Or that speaking well at an event leads to more work. But book royalties aren’t big money for anyone (cough unless you’re that famous author cough), and it’s just a bit of a wing and a prayer that it’s an ‘investment’ of your time that pays off anyway.
And then there’s with events, the ‘what if nobody comes’ factor. And full transparency once again, my fears came true this week when we cancelled an event.
I’ve been freelance teaching for several years now. I’ve had to cancel multiple events for low attendance. I work in theatre, and I’ve had canceled shows and low attendance shows. I am tough and rational in those situations. But I still had a cry yesterday. It’s one thing to cancel a workshop, or have 3 people turn up to a show or whatever. But feeling like you failed before you even started. Or worrying this was an omen for things to come. That was a tough moment. There were many reasons to cancel, and it was the right call. But it was still tough. It still felt like the ‘nobody wants to come to your party’ feeling and I can’t and won’t pretend that doesn’t hurt- that feeling you don’t have anyone who cares enough. I’m always shocked that people DO care to turn up to things and I’m always surprised at people I didn’t think I knew well or cared do. But then on the flip side, I’m also always hurt that people I thought did care…don’t show up. Again that’s just the honest truth it’s hard sometimes. maybe it’s not personal but, to quote ‘You’ve Got Mail’ ‘it is personal to a lot of people, it’s personal to me’
And let’s face it all of it is a bit of a wing and a prayer this book-writing business. And that’s where the emotional impact comes in too. The ‘oh-holy-shit-I-wrote-a-book’ also quickly morphs into ‘oh-holy-shit-I-wrote-a-book’ because you must then deal with people’s thoughts on said book.
Now on the whole, I’m fairly good with this. I survived academia after all and while that left me burned like a campfire marshmallow, it also toughened me up. Seriously, Doctor Who Bros, you can’t hurt me like my PhD supervisors did I promise you. But in all seriousness, this is not my first rodeo and I know now how I need to manage and cope with negativity. But that doesn’t mean some won’t seep through, especially in a passion project like this one. I wrote this book because I love the subject matter, and I won’t pretend it won’t hurt if (when) someone comes for something I’m particularly passionate about. It’ll make me a very sad penguin if that happens.
Right now too that’s the problem, I don’t know what they’re going to come for and that’s in many ways worse. Because I will imagine ten things they won’t even notice, and what will get noticed will be something I haven’t thought of. Right now I’m assuming the worst about thoughts on some sections that might not get a second glance while someone will find a way to stick the knife in on something I never imagined. Or perhaps, perhaps it’ll all be fine, perhaps people will love it.
I did, after all get some lovely review quotes. From people I trust. From people who are experts too in what I’m writing about. But I also got a full ‘reviewer 2’ experience on it. Pointing out a variety of things I never imagined to be an issue. And to quote Pretty Woman, ‘The bad stuff is easier to believe.’
With this book too, I know I’m writing about things people are passionate about too. Which is great, because I hope that means they read it! But it also means they will have…opinions. And while I’m a bit *penguin gif* ‘come at me bro’ to the Doctor Who Bros who have nothing better to do than nit-pick, I’m also worried I’ll have got it wrong for someone who it matters too. It’s one thing to annoy some people who were looking for you to fail, but another to get something unintentionally wrong and annoy someone connected to what you’re writing about or someone for whom that little thing you got wrong matters. And that I worry about because I wrote a book out of passion and love and it matters, and I really don’t want to have fucked that up.
Because I don’t know if people realise that too…we as writers (most of us) don’t get upset at negativity because of ego, it’s because we want so passionately to have done right by readers.
But add to that this book is a queer book. And I’m a tough old queer, but it’s not a great time to be publicly queer right now. And any of us would be lying if we said that didn’t creep in, didn’t scare us just a fraction of the ‘what if’. And the answer here is simple, I’ll probably go full Stuart Alan Jones and lean into it ‘Queers. Because I’m queer. I’m gay. I’m homosexual. I’m a poof, I’m a poofter, I’m a ponce.’ (I can’t quite claim all the things Stuart is but I’ll definitely channel that energy).
But it’s just another thing, isn’t it, being queer, writing queer work. Another exhausting thing of ‘what if someone…’ and I think that’s actually, in writing a book that’s truly a celebration of 20 years of queer work, and queer change…that’s a really sad thing actually. But we move, rally, channel Stuart Alan Jones and Hazel, and fight.
It’s fitting that all of this too is his too is this weird unknown…something in the ether right now. Because it reminds me of the greatest writing turn of phrase I ever learned. For when something is *right there* in front of you but not quite on the page, not quite an idea, not quite anything, it’s called ‘the maybe’. Who taught me that? Russell T Davies of course.
I’ve lived by ‘the maybe’ as a writing mantra for years, and to adapt that theory for a moment that’s what the book is in right now ‘the maybe’. Or it’s currently, to borrow from Doctor Who an impossible thing (come at me Bro for that reference etc.). But it might be out of my mind and on the page now, but it exists in the ether a little while longer, imagined not quite real until the rest of the world encounters it.
And then it will. And then what? Who knows. So I guess it’s Allons-y and hope for the best.
Order the book here.
Catch me at these events (links here)
Mine arrived today! I love it already.
I'm rooting for you and am loving the book - sorry I'm so slow at the moment! 😘