This, according to meteorologists, is the first completely snowless winter in Victoria in recent memory. I was gone on purpose for most of the gray and gloomy months, leaving when the last golden leaves were still falling from the trees and coming back when the same trees were covered in blossoms. But still, when I think of ways to describe my life these days, the word “flurries” comes to mind.
I made a big mistake when my first novel, The Four Seasons, came out. I had the idea that the publicist assigned to my book would put the necessary effort into helping it do well. I know now that these overworked people juggle multiple books at a time and spend only a few weeks on most titles, including mine. If I had known that, I might have hired a publicist to give a debut book the boost it needs. Instead, sales were less than stellar, though foreign rights did very well, and the book languished. I still hadn’t figured this out through three more books, with my own efforts consisting of little more than crossing my fingers and reaching out to my limited range of contacts.
Aloha Wanderwell Takes the Wheel is my fifth novel, and my sixth book (the one other one being non fiction, Until Our Last Breath). While pondering the mid-list fates of my other novels, I decided it wasn’t too late to get it right for this book and do what I should have done the first time. I’m working with a publicist from Books Forward, and with a small press, Sibylline, that is genuinely interested in the success of the book, and it has made such a huge difference. Right now, though, I am at the crazy flurry stage, doing all I can to bring the book to the attention of libraries, social organizations, bookstores, conferences, book festivals, and online influencers, while my publicist and publisher are going full tilt as well.
For me, this makes my days sometime feel less like juggling balls than swatting at a swarm of gnats. Or snow flurries. A much gentler analogy. But just as with snow, the flurries are often just the beginning before the white stuff really begins to fall. In this case, I welcome it. The more of this figurative snow, the more the publisher, publicist and I are likely to succeed in giving this book the audience it deserves. And maybe, years after publication, my other books will get a new round of love as well.
This photo was taken from the front door of my home during another, much snowier winter in Victoria. I may live to regret wishing this upon myself, but I look forward to that kind of blizzard for my book.
