Books usually launch on a Tuesday (similar to how movies usually release on a Thursday)
My birthday was a couple months away on a Tuesday
This opportunity would only occur every 6 or so years (give or take a leap year)
So I seized the opportunity, and you may be wondering: Was it worth it? It’s okay, I’m wondering the same thing…
The cons of publishing a book on your birthday:
It was hectic and exhausting and overwhelming. I didn’t have time to celebrate – I had to fix my website, ship preorders, update social media, figure out why Amazon hadn’t listed my book yet (note: it was my error, newbie probs), organize a blog tour, request reviews, order collector cards, find the best deal on crime scene tape, plan a booklaunch party, and on and on and on.
Anyhow, it’s a lot to have going on while also wanting to celebrate your own presence in the world. And yet…
The pros of publishing a book on your birthday:
….What better way to celebrate your own presence in the world than celebrating the achievement of one of your biggest dreams come true?
Sure, we could celebrate my birthday. But would this introvert ever plan a costume party at a coffee shop for her birthday? Of course not.
On the other hand, would this introvert plan a costume party at a coffee shop for her booklaunch? OF COURSE YES! And you all did not disappoint:
I could not have asked for more from a booklaunch party. And, on top of that, my birthday basically became a murderous-booklaunch-themed birthday:
You don’t need an excuse to have a huge costume party for your birthday. Or a huge party of any kind. You’re worth celebrating just for being you.
But, if you’re an introvert looking for a reason to plan a big shindig, a booklaunch might be just the thing to gather people on your birthday 🙂 I’m not sure if I’d do it again or not, but I will say I wouldn’t have traded that experience for the world.
Julia. I have neglected Julia far too long and she’s appearing everywhere. Haunting me in the people I meet, the clothes I wear, the stories I hear. It’s funny how the pieces of a person just fall into your lap when you’re busy attending to other things.
It started with Julia. No, not my character, a real person. She was sitting just a couple rows in front of me and I wanted to take a picture, because it was her, it looked just like my Julia. But it’d be weird to sneak a picture of a stranger in such a small room where it’d be noticed, even weirder to explain my stalkerish tendency. So I resolved to simply catch her full name during introductions and look her up on Facebook or Instagram because all the modern teens have those. And then it happened: she introduced herself as Julia. This really was my girl! Scarless, no blemishes to be seen, but a Julia that looked exactly like my Julia nonetheless.
Then the moment of truth came: Julia had left the building and I went to look at the sign-in sheet (which was available for all attendees to email each other. I wasn’t a total stalker. Others were copying the list as well.) And darn it! this girl’s name may as well have been Julia Smith. I searched Facebook and Twitter fruitlessly, for there were thousands of results and no mutual friends to bump the right one to the top. I’d lost her!
As a side note, I totally hope I encounter her again this year at the same lecture, and then I will fiercely force my friendship on her by taking interest in her work or something. And hope I don’t get a restraining order as I all too quickly ask for a group selfie 😉 I’m not a creeper really!
Sigh. This is what happens when a writer encounters their character in the real world. As if I’m not mad enough without this pull towards insanity…
Next came the story. There’s a book already out that sounds scary like my character, only with real life happenings and not paranormal urban fantasy. Some sort of teen angst Julia drama book. And I suddenly worry that I’m losing my chance, that someone will take her story from me and publish it so much faster than I ever could. Sure, every story has been told and it’s just a retelling, but Julia’s story is all mine and I don’t want to share.
Then came the Julia. Not my Julia or the Julia lookalike, but another Julia, one looking to join our writer’s group. How would this Julia take it when I read a story about her namesake falling to little bits in front of her? I don’t quite know, but she shockingly seemed okay with it when I summed up the story in forewarning. But with the name Julia semi-regularly on my tongue and referring to someone other than my character, it hearkens me back, back to the Julia I’m supposed to be living life with, or writing life with I suppose. Julia doesn’t like to share my attention, and her name is her name and my lips can’t utter it without regarding her specifically. My stories don’t deal in the most self-denying characters.
Most recently, it’s shown up in clothes. What would clothes have to do with Julia? But then there was the LuLaRoe craze. The outfits with names of people – Carly, Joy, Irma, Randy, Cassie, Ana, Nicole, Mimi, and – you knew it was coming – Julia. And suddenly the Julia is covering my newsfeed, as if my real-world encounters weren’t enough. Social media brings up Julia like the plague, only a plague of fashionable comfy clothes (Woot woot!).
And once again, I feel the beckoning. I could wear her clothes in honor of her. But I have to sit with her too. I can’t just have her in my everyday life without taking the time to chat and tinker and understand what’s going on in her head and in her world. Her story needs to be out there for the world to see, like all the other Julias that are invading my life. I have to share this space with my Julia, the one and only most important Julia. Characters don’t want to share with the real world. Authors are demanded to live in the fictional universe until the character releases their grip, and balance is not something my characters will understand. Would yours? Does anybody understand balance when it comes to someone else’s life?
So on that note… World, meet Julia. My Julia. You have all your Julia’s out there, and they’re just wonderful and I like encountering them. But there’s my Julia too.
She’s a little broken, a little unsure. But she’s got a story she’s ready to tell. And I’m busy writing it.