Showing posts with label emotionally invested. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotionally invested. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

A Personal Investment


And no, I’m not talking about stocks and bonds or whatever, but writer’s conferences. They all cost money. More importantly, they cost us time. As do book signings, and gatherings, and other bookish-type events.

But we go, partly because it’s necessary, and partly because the investment of our time, and often our money, is most likely to have a return. The writing profession is like one of those slow growing bonds that has potential to pay off, but might take a ridiculously long time. Or not. Depends on who you talk to.  

No two investments are the same. No two writing conferences cost the same amount of money, nor do they all run for the same amount of time. And then you have to look at what classes or discussions they offer, and other services, and what’s included, and if you’ll need to also pay for accommodations and transportation…

You get the drift, yeah? So how do you make a decision like that? Especially when, like me, you would prefer to go to everything, be involved with and support everyone, yet have limited funds or time to do so? (I still have yet to find a time-turner.)

Recently, someone kindly reminded me that it is my debut year, and that I need to make sure each thing I attend is going to be worth my investment. And she’s right. I do. These things add up. Both the cost and the time commitments. Suddenly, I have deadlines to keep and swag to buy and promotions to run.

Last week, I missed a conference I have attended for years, because it is now a long distance conference for me (when it wasn’t before), which would have included buying a plane ticket, staying in a hotel, and probably renting a car. During that same time frame, I also missed two or three other fun signing events. In May, there is another conference, another similar situation. I choose to attend that one instead. Because we can’t do everything or be everywhere, no matter how much we wish we could.

How do you choose your best investment of time and money when it comes to your career?
(Stay tuned for Friday’s post, when I will answer this question myself.)

Friday, July 13, 2012

If I Write it, They Will Come

Recently, an important bookseller commented on liking to plan events for authors they know will draw a crowd, even for their first book launch. And I was surprised by my own internal reaction to the discussion, because I know—absolutely—that regardless of what my book is about, or who publishes it, or what is the intended target audience of my work, people will come.

This is not me having a big ego or thinking a lot of myself (quite the contrary). This is me having confidence in the people who are important to me, and who I absolutely believe will be there for me—to support me—not just because they’re my fans, but because they either love me, or because I have shown up to support them. The very idea is truly, unbelievably humbling.

I have an enormous family. Seriously, huge. If I were to plan an event and even 25% of my family members were able to come, that would = a crowd.

But it’s not just about my family. There are people who are not related to me, who are my friends. True and loyal friends, in whose lives and/or careers I have become emotionally invested. Sometimes this means spreading myself thin, or driving long distances, or donating time, money, and other services or goods. Sometimes it means staying out late to lend a shoulder, or encouraging someone who needs a boost, or meeting an out of town friend for cupcakes and chatter. The point is, as my grandmother, and then my parents taught me, this is what it is to be a true friend. And because my friends matter to me, I believe I matter to them.

So when the bookseller talked about planning events for authors who can bring a crowd, I smiled, nodded, and thought, yeah, okay. I’m totally launching my next book here. Because I have the best friends and family in the world, and if I plan it, they will come.

I might not be able to talk without bawling, but the day is coming, peeps. Count on it. And you’re all invited.