Book launches and lessons and loveliness

Thirty years ago my grandmother saw me working on something at a table and asked what I was doing. "Writing a story Nana" I said to her. Thirty years later, she came to my first book launch for From Dark Places, held in Manchester last week. And it meant the world to both of us. It was a good day to have it in some respects: the day after my son's 4th birthday, the day before my grandmother's 74th birthday. That just felt right.

It was a crazy weekend, and I learnt a lot of lessons, which I thought I'd share here.

Bring it on

What do you think is the thing a debut author fears most in the run up to their first reading and book launch? Zombie apocalypse? That no-one will turn up? Losing their voice?

Well, thankfully, only the last of those three fears came to pass in Manchester. At one point I thought the second one would too, but thankfully that didn't happen. But yes, I started to lose my voice on the Wednesday and by the Friday morning it was gone completely.

Cue a great deal of Strepsil eating, gargling with TCP and a total vow of silence until that evening. When the time for the launch came, my voice was a gravely imitation of itself, and had no power to it at all. But that was only one worry.

Back to that second one on the list. People were slow to arrive, which was fine, as I had it in mind to start later than the billed starting time. But then a couple of people got in touch to say they were ill (much appreciated) and I heard on Twitter that one of the guests I was most excited about coming was held up due to train problems – also fine. But a few people who said they were coming simply didn't show up, and I started to panic.

So much so, I went bright red, and I mean really red! You could have fried an egg on my face. I was having a quiet panic, worrying that my Dad had been kind enough to hire a wonderful room at the Cornerhouse for me, and I was unable to fill it.

But, thank goodness, more people arrived and suddenly the room felt pleasantly full – panic one was over.

The first lesson learnt…

… Even when people say they are coming, they may not come and won't necessarily let you know. Don't assume numbers based on anything except who is in the room.

The unexpected star

A week before the launch, I was losing sleep over whether everything would work out well. Then on the actual day I woke up without a voice. Brilliant. But by then, buoyed up by the fantastic support of my online friends and a certain someone I will mention later, I managed to lose the anxiety. I didn't freak out about the lost voice, because I had a solution: my son.

The Bean was a star. He sat on my lap, I whispered in his ear and he related what I said. It meant I could welcome everyone whilst saving the ragged ends of my voice, and involve him too. And he was fantastic!

The second lesson learnt…

… Sometimes when something goes wrong, the solution can make the event even better than it would have been.

All's well that ends well

I really enjoyed reading aloud to the group. I was surprised by how much actually, it was the first live reading I've ever done to that many people. I spend hours in my recording booth, making audio books with no response or feedback at all. To see and hear people laughing (at the right places thank goodness!) and enjoying my work was bliss, even if my voice sounded like I was a late night DJ who smokes fifty a day.

Books were signed and sold, lovely people were met and there was a good atmosphere. When I asked people to put prompts in my favourite multi-coloured velvet hat a al The Short Story Club, the response was fantastic! It felt like a wonderful way to bring my little book into the world. And the immensely cool Isabel Joely Black was there (@TheCharmQuark) who live tweeted, took pictures and wrote up the event too! Wow, thanks Joely – and here is the link for the rest of you: http://joelyblack.com/?p=4292

Sunny Sunderland on the Sunday

Very early on the Sunday morning (still exhausted from the launch and my grandmother's birthday on the Saturday!) I set out from Manchester up to Sunny Sunderland to meet the lovely Sam (@futurenostalgic) who I have been friends with online for about 2 years.

Sam has done the most amazing things for me in the run up to the event. He made posters (that are easily adaptable for my other events and look fantastic) and made bookmarks and sent detailed directions and well, just organised me when I was simply too busy and swamped by launchiness to think more than thirty minutes ahead.

And for my fellow twitter friends, he really is every bit as lovely in real life as he is online!

We were both hoping that some writers would be coming, and people from the local book groups too, but alas, it seems the glorious sunshine was too tempting and they didn't show. But I had a great time chatting with Sam and his family and I got to meet the lovely Fiona who I've been chatting to online too, and sign a few copies in person for them. They treated me like royalty, and even made me one of my most precious surprise presents ever: an "I am brave" badge which I adore. Sam wrote up a post about the event which is here: http://future-nostalgic.blogspot.com/2011/04/emma-newman-on-tour.html

I learnt two lessons from that event:

Meeting people in real life is really, really important to do when you can.

And secondly – the most important lesson of the whole weekend:

Your book launch / event is just one possible thing out of a list that people can choose to attend or not – it is not the most important event that month that has kept them awake at night. They have not waited all their life to be there, and the book you have poured your soul, sweat and tears into for many, many hours is just another book to them.

And you know what? That's okay.

I have been freed of a kind of madness that descended over me last week. I lost sleep, I worried, I obsessed, but the events over the weekend have put it all back into perspective. Of course this is still hugely important to me, but it's back in its place.

And the dates for the next events will be set much further ahead! But that's enough from me, time to make some food for me and the Bean. I'll leave you with one of my favourite pictures from the event; the moment I signed my grandmother's copy. I love you Nana.

That felt good