Sorry. No can do. Because during the 2-24 months between signing your contract and watching for the UPS man to delivers your box of freshly pressed books, you got plenty of work.
On Friday, May 21st, I’ll be participating in a panel with the great name of What to Do Before You Debut at New Jersey’s indie bookstore Watchtung Bookstore with Therese Walsh and Shelley Stout in New Jersey. Jenny Milchman, the organizer and an organized writer if there ever was one, emailed the panel with questions we might expect. Her questions gave me much food for thought, which, as I’m so very fond of my own opinions, turned into this post.
There is much to do and not very much in the way of ‘how to’ material. As a self-described book junkie, I know there are shelves of books on how to write, how to get an agent, how to get published, but not that much on what to do after you sign the contract (though there is a selection of useful how-to-promote books, which I’ll include with part 3 of this series.)
For the secrets of debuting, one turns to the underground. The surreptitious sisterhood and brotherhood of debut novelists finding each other in the dark as they grope around (sounds far sexier than it is) and share the secrets they’ve learned from already published brethren.
Some of which is great.
Some of which isn’t.
As I waited for my book, I was told by the experienced “don’t expect to get on Oprah” (I wasn’t,) that waiting was “the quiet before the quiet,” (hey, thanks for depressing me!) that I “don’t need to spend money on an outside publicist” (very glad I ignored that one) and, my personal favorites, “don’t get too excited” and “don’t pay attention to reviews or Amazon numbers” (and just who do you recommend lobotomizes me?)
On the other hand, the very best handholding and advice I got was from my launch sisters and already-launched sisters.
Thus, I’ll begin my advice on what to do before you debut with this:
1) Make friends in the writer’s community and be generous when you get there. Live by the rule ‘treat others as you’d like them to treat you.’ Backspace for Writers is one place They engender generosity from writers on all levels of publishing experience and found some of my best advice. Writer’s conferences can help. Writer’s communities such as Grub Street for Writers are invaluable.
Surprisingly, I found one of my best and most generous launch-sisters on twitter (hello, Beth Hoffman, author of Saving CeeCee Honeycutt, which has had major and well-deserved success.) Twitter had a great group of writers helping each other. (More come.)
1) Get. Your. Domain Name. If you have not yet done this, immediately, yes right now—stop reading this—buy your domain name for your future website and/or blog. The link I’ve provided is a tutorial in the process. Why are you still reading this—go! Buy!
2) The moment you sign your contract, start a mailing list of people to tell about your book. My agent drummed this advice into me and I am eternally grateful for it. She warned me it would take far, far longer to make this list then I could imagine and she was dead-on right. List everyone you know. Find their addresses through the online white pages (you will be amazed how many people you can find.) Find their emails if you can. People you worked with, went to school with, cousins twelve-times removed, college friends, college enemies, and everyone you ever slept with (come on, they’ll be curious, right?) Camp connections. Boy scout troops you led. Congregations. Places you volunteered. People you once babysat for. Neighbors. Everyone.
Do a little each day. It will grow. It’s the perfect place to start your pre-pub work.
2) Look in the mirror. Do you like what you see? Yes? Great, move to number 3. However, if you could use improvement after years living in sweatpants, and letting go of all standards other than bathing, consider this:
Visit a great hairdresser. Do this well before you will be taking your author photo. I went to the hair whisperer of Boston (and it would take an act of God for me to tell my husband how much he charged.) I told him to do anything he thought might improve my looks other than making my hair short. He promptly made my hair short. Luckily I loved it, but I loved it even more after the second cut, when I was able to better articulate my wishes.
Men, is it time to shave off your beard? Wear a shirt that wasn’t manufactured in 1985?
Women, lipstick is not a sin. Play with make-up. Visit make-up counters. Tell them you need photo make-up and let them play (it’s free and trust me, they will love it.) Go shopping for flattering clothes, but clothes you’ll feel comfortable with while giving readings. Google ‘how to look good.’ Take pictures of yourself. Be brutal.
This is not vanity. (Okay, maybe a little.) You are putting together the image you want to project. Plus, how often in life do you get to shop and do your hair and tell the world “it’s for work?”
Coming soon! Part Two: Websites and Social Media
*****
The dark drama of Randy Susan Meyers' debut novel is informed by her years of work with batterers, domestic violence victims, and at-risk youth impacted by family violence.Randy Susan Meyers’ short stories have been published in the Fog City Review, Perigee: Publication for the Arts, and the Grub Street Free Press.
In Brooklyn, where Randy was born and raised, her local library was close enough to visit daily and she walked there from the time she figured out the route. In many ways, she was raised by books, each adding to her sense of who she could be in this world. Some marked her for horror. Reading In Cold Blood at too tender an age assured that she’d never stay alone in a country house. Others, like Heidi by Johanna Spyri, made her worship her grandfather even more. Some taught her faith in the future.
A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by Betty Smith was the only bible Randy ever owned, her personal talisman of hopefulness. Each time she read it, she was struck anew by how this author knew so much and dared to write it.
Randy now lives in Boston with her husband and is the mother of two grown daughters. She teaches writing seminars at the Grub Street Writers’ Center in Boston.






















