What To Expect When You're Expecting A Book
It is approximately one month until the launch of my new novel, Few and Far Between. If you’re on the island of Ireland, in April, come join me at one of the many events I’ll be taking part in. They’re all listed on the events section of this website, (or will be, as soon as I get round to putting them there). Few and Far Between will be my ninth book (or ninth major publication as we like to say in the industry). I’d like to think that at this stage, I might have learnt a little about the fine art of launching a book into the world. Based on the anxiety dreams I’m currently enjoying, I fear I have not learnt anything. I am writing this blog to remind future Jan, when she comes to launch her tenth book, (if indeed, there ever is a tenth), that she always feels this way around about book launch time and these feelings are valid and probably not peculiar to her and usually begin to dissipate roughly three days after the blessed thing hits the shops.
Here are ten things you might expect to feel in the run up to the launch of your book.
(NB. the following points are probably irrelevant to writers currently in receipt of the focused attention of a massive PR machine. I have a wonderful PR team and they do amazing things to promote me and my books but I am not the kind of author who gets branded merch and I still do a lot of my own PR, pitching articles and events and hustling for writing-related opportunities)
Expect to feel reasonably ambivalent about your book - You have been living with it for a very long time. It is no longer sexy or fresh in your eyes. It is that massive weight you’ve been lugging around for the last two years. It is rounds and rounds of meticulous edits. It is an idea you were consumed by quite a long time ago. What you want to talk about is the book you are currently researching/writing but nobody is asking about it.
Expect to be overly aware of your book’s flaws - A novel is never truly finished. Even after the umpteenth edit, you’ll still be able to articulate where it could have been better and how you might, if you were a different writer -say Ishiguro, or someone equally adept- have ironed out its inherent flaws. But there comes a point where you have to launch your imperfect creation into the world. Take comfort from Walter Mosley’s words in Elements of Fiction, “finally, I reread a batch of changes, see problems in the work, and yet realize that I have no answers. This is when the book is finished. The novel will never be perfect and neither will you.”
Expect to feel like an absolute chump promoting yourself at every given opportunity- You may want to pull a Salinger, and remain in the shadows, quietly waiting for your genius to be recognised, but a lot of people are going to want you to go hell for leather at the promotion and talk your book up to outlandish heights. It is brave. It is ground-breaking. It’s the best book you’ll read this year. It is Ulysses crossed with Middlemarch and totally perfect for BookTok. It helps a bit if you attach the following caveat to every self-aggrandizing social media post, “sorry, me again. I feel like a total div, shouting about how great I am.” (Full disclosure, it doesn’t help at all).
Expect to be exhausted - In the weeks running up to a book launch, a heap of extra work will land on your desk - articles, interviews, podcast, daft questionnaires, admin in all in its most banal forms. I usually find myself doing around twenty extra hours of book promoting admin per week in the six weeks before a book comes out and consequently arrive at launch day feeling like i’ve been run over by a truck. I recommend prepping as much of this work as you can early on and yet, rarely pay heed to my own advice. You find me scouring old articles I wrote for foreign magazines, in the hope of discovering low-hanging fruit, (ie. shit which I can recycle for an English-speaking audience).
Expect to be broke - A follow on from the point above. You will not receive any payment for most of the articles, interviews, podcasts and daft questionnaires because you are promoting your book. Don’t worry, your efforts will naturally translate into sales which you can then enjoy as royalties, (approximately a decade from now).
Expect to feel like a fraud - At no point in your writing life will you ever be asked so many questions about your practice and craft. You will answer these questions convincingly and eloquently all the time thinking, “hold on now, I have not written a single word in three months because all my writing time has been eaten up by people asking me about writing books.” You will occasionally find yourself sat on stage in front of a modest literary crowd, compelled by the urge to tell everyone, you’re probably never going to write again. Do not do this. The assembled masses will think you are joking. They will laugh at your misery.
Expect to be a bit paranoid - Most of the people who matter most to you will buy your book the week it is published. They will then say nothing about the books for weeks. You will automatically assume they did not enjoy your book. You will imagine them meeting in coffee shops and on street corners to discuss just how much they didn’t enjoy your book. You will grow cagey around these people who matter most, avoiding, at all times, the one question you desperately want to ask, “well, what did you think of my book?” When you finally get round to asking, two or three months later, most of these people will apologise and say, “I’m sure it’ll be great. I just haven’t got round to reading it yet.” (See also the lag between sending out advance copies and people reading the bloody things).
Expect to find your book unrecognisable - By the time you get to publication day, you’ll probably have a fair idea what your book is about. This is not to say the reviewers will understand your intentions. (And don’t even get me started on Goodreads. It’s like the Wild West of choose your own interpretation in there). Someone once reviewed The Fire Starters as an extended metaphor for 9/11. Someone else said The Raptures was unbelievable because the children came back as ghosts. (I’m guessing this person was not familiar with the writings of Henry James). Even if the reviewers get what you’re trying to do, you may find that you’re being marketed in the most baffling way. (If you’re from the North of Ireland and you write anything even vaguely Troubles related, brace yourself for being touted as a cross between Derry Girls and Milkman.)
Expect to fly solo, (it’s not the worst) - Don’t expect your nearest and dearest to turn up for every single event. There are days when you’ll be fed up hearing yourself read the same passage and make the same jokes whilst answering the questions you’ve answered a hundred million times before. You wrote the book. You’re responsible for it. Best case scenario, you’ll eventually make some money from sales. It is unreasonable to ask your partner/friends/extended family to be there every time you get up on stage. It is now your job to talk about writing. If you were a plumber you wouldn’t keep asking your mum to watch you unblock toilets. In defence of flying solo, there is a certain amount of freedom which comes from looking into an audience and not recognising a single face. It is, for one thing, way easier to lie and get away with it.
Expect to have a wee moment (or six) - Lest you think it’s all hard work launching a book, let me emphasise that there will be nice moments too. It’s nice to see your book on the shelves of your favourite bookstore. It’s nice to look across the room at a book launch and think, all these people are here for me and it’s not even my funeral, furthermore, at least ten of these people are not here under duress. It is nice when people say nice things about your book in the paper and online. It is even nicer when real readers come up and personally compliment you, (can I advocate for more of this sort of thing?) It is nice when someone asks you to sign their book, even better if it’s one of yours. Be careful when signing books during launch week. Last time round it all got a bit overwhelming for me. I signed two books to myself and dated a stack with the following year’s date. (I like to think of these as collector’s items, rare and valuable, future books).
If you also find the process of releasing a book, a little discombobulating, remember that the associated verb is launch. Books get launched. As do careers and ships and space rockets. For the feinthearted writer I recommend launching your book like a hand grenade; pitch it as hard and far as you can, then cover your ears and run away.