End of the Writing Year (Or Holy Smoked Cocktail Wieners, It’s Almost 2014!)

ImageEvery year–EVERY YEAR–New Year’s seems to sneak up on me and whack me upside the head with a “Hey, you! Put down that cocktail wiener and get serious here! What’re you going to do different this year, huh? What about your definable goals, your glorious writing aspirations? Have you got any flippin’ worthwhile thing planned besides trying a different dipping sauce?

And because I’m cleaning/recuperating from all that Christmas cheer (and rather enjoying my little pigs-in-a-blanket), my brain often says, “Pffffft.”

But not this year, friends. This year, I had to come up with a blog post for December 29th over at The Muffin. And so way back in, oh, mid-December, I put my writing thinking cap on and took a few minutes to consider what I’ve learned not to do in 2013.

The way I look at it, I’m halfway there, as far as that whole New Year’s voice whacking me upside the head. And come New Year’s Eve, I’ll figure out a couple definable goals, glorious aspirations, and possibly a couple worthwhile writing things, whilst casually enjoying a cocktail wiener (and a champagne cocktail, too, now that I think about it).

Because, you know, coming up with what to do is way easier, right?

(And may you ring in your 2014 with glorious blessings and much writing joy! Thanks so much for joining me along this journey and let’s do it all over again next year, okay?)

What Not To Do Wednesday on Book-Signings

ImageFirst of all, grasshopper, I’d like to say that largely, the book-signing was a success! I sold plenty of books and had quite a chunk of change to donate to my church. And I had a ton of fun, visiting with new friends like Rowena Cala and old friends like Debra Mayhew (and her cute cohorts!).

But of course, being the very human me that I am, I made mistakes. And I shall go forth and learn from them. Perhaps you will learn a thing or two as well.

One cannot, of course, control the weather. But one must use common sense when it comes to weather conditions when a book-signing event is held in the great outdoors. 

For instance, if it’s very, very windy, one’s sign (a glorious sign, by the way) might fall over. Constantly. And one might find oneself tending to a sign. Again and again and again. Unless one had the forethought to bring something as simple as Packing Tape. Or perhaps stable objects to bolster the sign (Books and a rather large purse are not as stable as you might think. After all, I had to sell the books.).

I had plenty of suggestions from the peanut gallery as to what I should have done about the sign. And I can tell you what I thought about doing with the sign. But ultimately, I just bore up (and the sign fell down) until the wind swooshed out of the festival. (Approximately one hour before it was officially over.)

Also, if it’s very, very warm (along with the wind), one might not want to bring chocolate kisses. (Not that folks will not eat smushy chocolate kisses. They will, very happily. In fact, I think kids rather prefer gooey chocolate. I’m not so sure their mothers feel the same way.)

The most interesting What Not To Do, though, involved my preconceived notions about Chicken Soup for the Soul books. I assumed that most people understood how these books worked–that the books were a collection of stories, and my story would be one among a hundred others.

Many people were familiar with the brand, but there were just as many who were being introduced to these books for the first time. And at first, I didn’t quite understand that people didn’t quite understand. So I’m afraid, grasshopper, that I wasn’t really doing my job.


Rowena buys a book.

At some point, I realized that it was not enough to just sit there, smiling prettily and saying that I had a story in each of the books I was selling and hoping the sign would work for me. I had to…oh, what’s the word? 

Oh, yeah. SELL the book. When I stopped long enough to talk about Chicken Soup books, explaining how I happened to be in them–that I was a writer–and talked about my stories, I connected with folks. It’s true that I sold a handful of books to friends who came specifically to buy a book from me. But I sold the other handful to people who were passing by, folks I didn’t know (or know well) who were “hooked” by my individual stories rather than the book itself.

So, bottom line, don’t have a book-signing unless you’re prepared to do the selling that goes along with it. Your voice might be a bit worn out, your smile might feel a bit bedraggled, but when all is said and done, grasshopper, it’s well worth it!