Becoming a Public Author

On the way to my book launch I read How to be a Public Author by Paul Ewen. It’s comic gold. As preparation for an event - well it prepares you for any eventuality.

Francis Plug attends a string of stellar author events. Here he is at a Salman Rushdie talk:

‘My £8 ticket is equivalent to two and a half well-filled glasses of wine. So far I’ve had seven glasses, so I’m up. The wine table is unattended, so I help myself to another bottle before heading back into the theatre. Salman Rushdie looks over to me as I scuttle towards my seat. It must be distracting to have someone moving about like a frilled lizard while you’re trying to talk.’

Later he writes:

'Perhaps we’re currently experiencing the golden age of author/reader interaction, but I suspect, for most contemporary authors, it’s nothing but a friggin’ nightmare.’

The night before the launch I take a sustaining draught of solitude. I like people, but I burn out on sociability. I revel in the singleness of my hotel room, the mini kettle with one cup, and the narrow bed. On the telly Florence (and the Machine) leans out from the Pyramid stage and touches drifts of hands. I don’t think I will need to be hoisted by security guards. What if no one turns up?  

It’s June in England and it’s hot. English villages and fairs are made for each other. Girls have bows in their hair and stop mid run for two turns of a hula hoop. Chair legs sink into hot grass. Organisers look at their watches and move things. Tea and cake is served on mismatched pastel and flowered crocks. Winter feet are aired. Ants tickle. I have to make an effort to be nervous in such an atmosphere but I manage it. 

I check the venue. It’s a small marquee. I recognise my publisher from her picture on line. She has very sweetly brought flowers (from her own garden) chocolates and a card. She gives me piles of books to sign. People enter the humid tent, sit down and wait.

 Oy Yew is a middle grade/crossover book, in other words it appeals to all ages. We pitched the talk at both children and adults. The tent fills with adults. I'm told it’s difficult to attract MG readers to an event unless the writer is already a big name. It's a shame. Like Francis Plug I have an anarchic inner child. I relate to children.

Thankfully the adults find enough content to smile, respond, take notes and buy books. No one darts between the seats like a frilled lizard. Perhaps if I offered wine...

What I learned and some advice for first time public authors.

Read Francis Plug as preparation.

Support indie publishers. They are very nice. 

Don't carry your flowers around all day. They will wilt.

If you do a presentation with a dog, people will look at the dog and not you. (The cartoonist, Brick, secured his dog to the altar of the chapel where he was speaking).

Only thought makes things into ‘friggin’ nightmares’.

Eleven-year olds don’t decide to go to book talks. When taken by parents to culture, they trail. Eights and nines are more open. Children in schools are captive and will happily receive you as light relief.

Buy food before you get on the train else you will be forced to spend a large part of your advance on a packet of quavers.

I am now a public author. That means I am available for any event, anywhere. Lakes and mountains preferred.
Email anasalote@aol.com

Imagination is quantum ergo fairies are real

Welcome to ‘The Forgotten and the Fantastical’ Carnival This post was written especially for inclusion in ‘The Forgotten and the Fantastical’ carnival, hosted by Mother’s Milk Books, to celebrate the launch of their latest collection of fairy tales for an adult audience: The Forgotten and the Fantastical. Today our participants share their thoughts on the theme ‘Fairy tales’. Please read to the end of the post for a full list of carnival participants. ***

I believe in fairies because:

You know how the quantum world is like a soup of potentials. It’s only when we look at the soup that a dead cat bobs to the surface, or a carrot. Between the soup out there and the observer in your head the material world arises.

   But what if the mind fixes potentials inside itself? Is that imagination and is the result any less real? The difference seems to be that imaginary carrots can't be seen by everyone till they are fixed in speech or art or writing.

   There is evidence that fairy tales straddle the worlds of ‘reality’ and imagination. The weasel seen hitching a ride on a passing woodpecker is a fairy tale interruptus.  

   When my daughter wrote to the tooth fairy: ‘Are you rill?’ TF replied at length on a scroll of birch bark tied with grass. When Grace found it, there was a hush; reality crept away, leaving the stage to star-robed imagination.

Too cutesie? Cast off the sugared pink tutu and come to the dark side. Remember The Owl Service?Our Bertie has owl patterns on his high chair. He flicks his head from side to side and regards them with deep mistrust. He keeps a rice cake in the pocket of his dungarees as a protective mandala.

Now owls are appearing at secret locations all over my house. Rice cakes will not shield him.

What causes these tears in the quantum fabric? You do, hopefully. Imagination sometimes needs helpers. They help the fairies of Crewkerne woods to carpenter tiny doors. They teach tooth fairies to write, and paint owls hiding under bath towels. They dress as BFGs, climb ladders and peer into nurseries.

   There are forces ranked against the helpers. They wear corporate lanyards and organise life into terms and conditions and bulleted criteria, in a jargon that makes every sentence seem like a rearrangement of the same dead words. Dickens called it Gradgrindery. I call it NVQs. First it makes the imagination frantic with boredom and constriction. Then it stitches the quantum weave tighter and tighter imprisoning fairies, owls and giants.

   For children the inner and outer worlds are permeable. The weave is still wide enough to let the fairies through. Helpers might move on from airy fairies to Yeats's host and Rosetti's Goblin Market, but they stay child-hearted. And here’s another powerful thing they do. They read to children.

The Forgotten and the Fantastical is now available to buy from The Mother’s Milk Bookshop (as a paperback and PDF) and as a paperback from Amazon.

It can also be ordered via your local bookshop.

Any comments on the following fab posts would be much appreciated:

In ‘Imagination is quantum ergo fairies are real’, Ana, at Colouring Outside the Lines, explains why we should all believe in fairies and encourage our children to do the same. ‘Wings’ — Rebecca at Growing a Girl Against the Grain shares a poem about her daughter and explains the fairy tale-esque way in which her name was chosen. In ‘Red Riding Hood Reimagined’ author Rebecca Ann Smith shares her poem ‘Grandma’. Writer Clare Cooper explores the messages the hit movie Frozen offers to our daughters about women’s experiences of love and power in her Beautiful Beginnings blog post ‘Frozen: Princesses, power and exploring the sacred feminine.’ ‘Changing Fairy Tales’ — Helen at Young Middle Age explains how having young children has given her a new caution about fairy tales. In ‘The Art of Faerie’ Marija Smits waxes lyrical about fairy tale illustrations. ‘The Origins of The Forgotten and the Fantastical’ — Teika Bellamy shares her introduction from the latest collection of fairy tales for an adult audience published by Mother’s Milk Books. -- www.mothersmilkbooks.com For the latest news, please subscribe to our email newsletter via our website.