Here I Am--Over Here... by Liz Flaherty

I hate promotion. With every fiber of my wrinkled and exhausted being, I hate the whole syndrome of here I am and here's my new book--please like me!

Do writers actually say that? No. Does it actually feel like that? Yes.

We talk about promotion among ourselves and the conversation is often exciting and hopeful. Great ideas are shared and successes celebrated. We share tweets and Facebook posts and guest shots on each other's blogs. As I have said often enough that it may be superfluous here, writers are the most generous people on the planet.

We talk about reviews, about paying for them, begging for them, flinching from ⭐⭐⭐ or, God forbid, even fewer. We laugh about who we need to sleep with to garner good reviews or why people bother reviewing books they haven't read. Yeah, we laugh, but it's bitter.

In the name of promotion, we give away our work. Sometimes it is in response to loyalty from readers, and we're happy to do that. Other times, however, it is with the hope that we will get new readers who are willing to pay for the rest of our backlist. I think it works for some writers and I'm glad for them. For some of us, we are left with I gave away 56 books and sold two. Really?

Am I really that bad? Am I the only one who wonders that on a daily basis?

There are the failures--the real ones. Campaigns that result in big bills and meager sales. When we acknowledge that far from earning a living, we spend more than we make. Days when the dreaded word hobby crosses someone's lips or our own thoughts. Library talks or book-signings when virtually (or worse, literally) no one comes.

Promotion gives us days when we've spent more time scrolling the internet than getting words from our hearts and fingers to the manuscript in progress. We can blame social media for that. Or our own lack of focus. Or the fact that we love talking to other writers. (What can I say? I love talking to writers.) 

At the end of the day...my day, at least...it is promotion that draws me away from being productive, that takes more time than anything. Some of it because it's fun--I love blogging. I enjoy Canva and its open invitation to create graphics. We love seeing our own names and covers on the internet. Guilty again. Mostly, though, my scrolling is done with anxiety. Has anyone commented? What are the Rafflecopter numbers? Have my sales rankings budged? 

This morning on our daily G-Chat, I told Nan, "I always thought I'd age out of writing books--it may be the promo that does me in." I wasn't being hyperbolic. After a long, hard hiccup in 2021, I decided to keep writing books--at least for a while--because, in truth, I love it a lot.

But then there's the promotion. The 100s of $$$ spent. The hours devoted to organization...and reorganization...and agonizing. Should I do this...or this...or try that again...or--

I don't know. I just don't know. 

~*~

In the name of the aforementioned and much-maligned promotion, I hope you'll take a look, buy (or borrow from the library), the Word Wranglers' books. Not only ours, but other writers', too. Read, enjoy, review. I don't have the words to say how grateful we are. 

Liz