Welcome to our fall 2019 series, “Promoting Your Book.” In this series, the site’s regular columnists will discuss an element of marketing that’s worked for them. Nowadays, every writer needs to have some involvement in the promotion of their work. Ideally, this series will give marketing novices a starting point, or writers with some experience a notion of how to do things better.
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By Gwen Florio
I just got back from the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers’ annual Colorado Gold Conference in Denver. I’ll participate in the Montana Book Festival in my hometown of Missoula this coming weekend, and in just a few weeks I’ll fly to Dallas for Bouchercon. All of which makes me one happy writer.
It wasn’t always this way.
Other than the Montana Book Festival, where for years my participation was that of an awestruck audience member, I didn’t go to any writers’ conferences until I had my first book contract. Those early ones were terrifying on two fronts – to my introverted little psyche, confronted with hundreds of people, all of whom seemed to know each other, as well as to my inadequate little bank account. Why on earth did people subject themselves to these things?
You Get Smarter
I spent most of those first conferences avoiding actually interacting with anyone by going to every single panel and presentation I could, and ducking into ladies’ rooms in between (I have fond memories of the very nice bathrooms at the Bouchercon host hotel in Raleigh, N.C.).
But a weird thing happened: All those panels? Once I settled down and started paying attention, I learned stuff, stuff that almost certainly would have sped my publishing journey by years if only I’d taken advantage of these conferences earlier. And I’m still learning—just last week, a presentation on writing synopses helped me goose some weak parts of my WIP.
Because Community
Something else happened. Invariably, while waiting for a panel to start, someone would start chatting with me. I’m not a complete recluse: If someone launches a conversation, I’ll (wo)man up. At my first Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers’, the woman sitting next to me in an agents and editors panel invited me to join a critique group, something that’s proven one of the most rewarding experiences of my writing life.
And at ThrillerFest, I met J.J. Hensley in person, who until then I knew only because we shared a publisher and were both finalists for the same award. Luckily, neither of us won (I almost mean that). Pretty sure J.J. was my entrée into The Thrill Begins, an equally rewarding professional experience.
Those rewards are tangible—for instance, invitations to contribute to anthologies, forcing me to up my game so as to be worthy of seeing my name next to all those others—but beyond that, the sense of community and encouragement is invaluable. Because, no matter how supportive your family and friends are, it’s only so often you can subject them to lengthy conversations about, say, exposition, or the essential use of three-by-five cards.
As a friend said this weekend, you start going to conferences for what you’ll learn, and you keep going because of the connections you make there. For my own part, where I once had to steel myself for them, now they’re my favorite parts of the year.
But Is It Worth It?
Because, wow. Those travel expenses and registration fees sure add up. But the expenses are tax-deductible, and there also are ways to cut down. RMFW invites people to submit presentation proposals; if you’re chosen to give one, your registration is free. You can share a room (I don’t, but only because I need that introvert down time). You can cut back on the martinis, although seriously?
More to the point, remind yourself that it’s an investment. It means you’re taking yourself seriously as a writer; that the things you’ll learn will make you a stronger writer and further your writing career, and the connections and the deep and lasting friendships you’ll make are worth every cent, and then some. Then go to the bar, order that next martini, and while you’re at it, order a round for your new friends, too. Because next year, someone will be ordering one for you.
Gwen Florio is the author of the Lola Wicks mystery series, termed “gutsy” by the New York Times. Montana, the first book in the series, won the Pinckley Prize and a High Plains Book award for debut novel. Her standalone novel set in Afghanistan, SILENT HEARTS (Atria), came out in July of 2018. Florio lives in Montana.
To learn more about SILENT HEARTS click HERE:
Previously in Promoting Your Book
E.A. Aymar on Hosting a Good Book Event
