Book launches and how to survive them

I wasn’t really looking forward to my book launch. There were aspects of it that were wonderful to anticipate: seeing some people I really love, eating some delicious chutney (Smy chutney, not my own home-made stuff) and enjoying some wonderful cheeses. There were some last minute surprises of a very positive kind, like Barefoot Wines pitching in to provide the superb Californian tipples that my guests were lucky enough to sample. I knew the good pots would be a hit, as they had promotional pens given by Gardening Tools Direct and lovely courgette seeds donated by Thompson and Morgan. And little bags of fruit and vegetable shaped sweets … that was always going to be a big hit! But, to be honest, I gave up sleeping, eating and enjoying life for about a week before the launch.

I’m not a natural self-promoter (very few writers are) and so the idea of standing in front of people and talking about my book was nauseating. And yes, I have done this kind of thing before, but never solo. Promoting an anthology is soooo much easier, because you can talk up the work of writers you admire who are published alongside you, rather than puffing hot air into your own collapsing ego.

Still, I did it. The venue was amazing. My dress was a triumph. The food was brilliant. Loads of people wrote limericks (two literary agents and a publisher got together to judge the limerick competition) and even more drew vegetable portraits. 72 people walked through the doors and 40 of them walked out again with a copy of “Minding My Peas and Cucumbers” – some of which got signed, but if you were one of the people who didn’t have time at the end to get a signature from me, just let me know and we’ll sort something out. There are pictures here of most of the evening and there’s even a YouTube Video although I don’t intend to link to it!

Having lots of things for people to do really helped – it stopped me being too much the focus of attention and allowed everybody to be doing things, rather than staring at me, expecting me to do something clever or entertaining. Allotment folk are quite competitive too, so the contests led to some good-natured rivalry which was fun to observe.

I loved most of the evening, panicked through some of it and really hope that the same is true of book launches as they say it is of childbirth – that you forget the pain by the next one …

Thank you to everyone who came along, you were all amazing, and I hope you had as good a time as I did.

Blimey – book launch!

Yes, I’m still panicking. I do now have something to wear – a 1950’s sheath dress with an abstract fruit and vegetable print, plus some rather cute green leather shoes with floral buckles.

• I do have wine – donated by the awesome Ali of Barefoot Wines who is coming along to give lucky attenders at taste of California’s delicious wineries.
• I have chutney (my own) and real chutney – from the eminently tasty Emmerline Smy who is bringing her delicious relishes for folk to try.
• I have competitions: including a limerick competition to be judged by my own excellent literary agent (who, let me say, hates limericks, so this may be an ordeal for all concerned) and prizes … oh, you should see the prizes! The basket of crochet fruit, (the strawberries being but a single example), the beautiful circular strawberry bed, the honey pot …
• I have activity packs for littlies with fuzzy things and googly things and cute things and all that good stuff.
• I have (well, not yet I don’t but I know it will be there on the day) chocolate apple spice cake, made by my mother, a cook of almost unlimited talent.
• I have goody pots with seeds and sweets pens and all kinds of wonderful things inside and goody bags to take goodies home in.

And I have fear. Terrible, 2am fear. Suppose nobody turns up? Suppose too many people turn up. Suppose everything goes wrong?

So, for the last time, I promise, I’m asking you to join me to celebrate the launch of my book, “Minding My Peas and Cucumbers: Quirky Tales of Allotment Life”, 22 March 2011 18:30 – 20:30, West Blatchington Windmill, Holmes Avenue, Hove, BN3 7LE.

Radio Adventures

This is what a radio studio looks like.

If you are likely to be on t'radio, it's a good idea to take a bottle of water so you can moisten your throat, to have a few key words written down so you can remember them (like the names of the people you are speaking to, sounds daft but that can go right out of your head) and to wear really comfortable shoes!I also had a little pot of Hotel Chocolate morsels, almonds and dried cherries, to keep me going, and a copy of my book, just in case anybody wanted to query anything I'd written.

My thanks to: Stuart at Radio Northampton, Sean at Radio Merseyside, Liz at Radio Cambridge, Stuart at Radio Stoke, Mike at Radio Hereford and Worcester, Simon at Radio Newcastle, Mark at Radio Wiltshire, Malcolm at Radio Oxford, Phil at Radio Humberside, Fitz at Radio Devon who made me giggle, Heather at Radio Manchester, David at Radio Gloucestershire, Andy the keen allotment holder who's just had to give up his plot at Radio Kent, Rony at Radio Sheffield, the lovely and totally unexpected last minute intervew with Ellie at Radio York and last, but not least, the charming allotment sceptic Sarah on Radio Sussex. To Yanina who calmed my nerves and made me a fantastic cup of tea just when I needed it, my eternal gratitude, and to Dean and the team at Summersdale for creating the buzz that made the interviews happen, much, much kudos!

And to anybody who was hoping to hear me speak in the next 24 hours - I don't have much of a voice left!

Hubris, gratefulness, politesse?

I’ve spent a couple of days now, staring at the little heap of my books that was delivered on Monday.

They stare back.

I am paralysed by knowing what it is good, or fair, or right to do in this situation. I am sending books to people who have been instrumental in its genesis, and to whom I know it will be welcome as a mark of my esteem, if nothing else. These people include my excellent first reader, my best friend since High Shcool and my writing compatriot Bunny Goodjohn.

Then there are other people: important people, and ones that I would like to thank. Most notably A.L. Kennedy and Jonathon Porritt, both of whom gave generous and charming quotes for the book jacket.

But.

Is it hubristic to send people a copy of a book they’ve had an advanced read of? Does it look arrogant? Would they prefer something else or would that look as if I don’t have confidence in my own book, or that I didn’t rate them highly enough to send them a copy? Well, I think they both know I rate them rather highly: Jonathon has been a leading contributor to the environmental field since I first entered it more than 20 years ago, and I’ve valued working alongside him tremendously. As for A.L. … well I’m on record as saying she is a goddess to me.

And yet I’m terrified that sending the damn books will seem brash, and not sending them will seem ungrateful and ungracious, and as a result the books are sitting on my dining room table, next to ready labelled envelopes which seem to grin at me maliciously with their open flaps whenever I pass.

And then, if I do send them, what to write in them? And why didn’t my parents send me to calligraphy classes as a child so that even if I can’t find the ‘right’ words I can produce some nice-to-look-at ones?

So I distract myself by stuffing seeds, sweets and limerick first lines into the flowerpots that are serving as goody bags for the launch, which somewhat eases my mind until I start to worry that nobody will turn up and that I will have to take all the flowerpots home again …

And then I go and crochet something, to take my mind off the subject that I was using to take my mind off the subject of the books ... this publishing stuff is actually quite stressful, you know?