Expectations and Author Readings
As a 31-year-old with a slew of invisible illnesses, I thought I was pretty good at managing my expectations. But readers, it turns out that even in my early thirties, I do not know everything.
I know! It came as a shock to me too.
My first reading was for my new novel, sweethearts (not a typo, the title is lowercased), at Broadway Books in Portland, Oregon. It was also my first solo reading, which meant I had an entire hour to fill with me and more me.
I spent $130 on giveaways, homemade cookies, takeaway pins, wine, water, ice, napkins, and cups. One of the giveaways took about an hour to make, the cookies took about four, the takeaway pins about five. I shopped online for a few hours and in-store for another one.
The reading was posted on every local website’s calendar and even put in one of the local magazine’s print issues as the flagged book event of the night.
But guess what?
Seven people–other than my family–showed up. Two more came at the very end to buy the book.
How many was I expecting? At the very least twenty, at the most fifty.
Look at those numbers: 7. With an expectation of 20–50.
Was I disappointed? Well if you want my honest answer, yes, I was. I tried not to be, as I was so happy to have my book out in the world and see some great faces in the audience; still, I felt a little let down.
Was the event amazing? Oh, absolutely!
Readers/listeners were rapt as I told them about my love affair with darkness and read them part of my new suspense novel, sweethearts.
After I read, everyone bought a book or two–my debut novel was for sale, as well. Then half of the people came with me to dinner around the corner to a cute pub. Oh, and the very best thing: my family flew from North Carolina to Oregon just to attend my reading.
Though I had lofty expectations and put so much of myself into this event, the turnout was slim. But the event was a smash. I made a good portion of my money back, and I enjoyed myself immensely.
Will I make 40 cookies and buy 6 bottles of wine next time? Not a chance. Will I spend hours and hours upon more hours marketing my event instead of putting more words on the page? That’s another no.
The biggest part of being a writer is writing. Author readings are great, satisfying, and can bring in some money. However, in the end, writing novels is where my passion lies. Putting more words into the world will be greater than any single event, more satisfying, and bring in more money. (Just being honest).
More importantly: Writing is what gives me life.
So I say to hell with expectations, to hell with comparing yourself to other authors, to hell with believing any part of your worth lies in a reading’s turnout.
I say, write the hell out of your novel, and do events for fun.
That’s what this process should be about, right?
