The Reluctant Self-Promoter

Heretofore, I have never had the opportunity to use the word “heretofore.” But I do now. Heretofore, I have not blogged about anything in particular. Oh, I always planned to do a “writing” blog but never got around to it. Instead I would blog about missing my kid or taking care of my mother or taking walks or occasionally about politics. My blogging was sporadic and random.

Now, however, I am blogging for a purpose: to track my journey as I attempt to promote my new novel, Picara (note inclusion of title for promotion purposes, which I had to go back and add). I am doing this because that may be the only way I can stand it. If I write about the rejection and the humiliation and all the other things I dislike about self-promotion, at least it will serve a purpose. Something enjoyable (writing) will take place as a result. Also, I think it will keep me on track. I will continue to put myself out there like a youtube wannabe movie star because that is what I am supposed to do if I want to keep doing this thing that I love. Keeping a blog will nudge me (I hope) in the right direction. And maybe some other reluctant self-promoter will realize he or she is not alone.

To clarify, I don’t actually mind giving readings and book signings. I like it. I like meeting people who have read my work or who are planning to read it or who just like the cover of a book I wrote. And I love doing workshops for people who write or who want to write or who think they might want to write. That stuff is fun.

What is not so fun for me is getting out and pushing myself. I’m not sure why, but that part is painful. Just the other day I was reading a chapter in a book on women’s health as research for a freelance gig. And I came across the definition of “borderline personality.” This was interesting to me because about 20 years ago I was married for all of about three weeks. My then husband and I saw a therapist once who later told my husband that I might be a “borderline personality.” I had no idea what that meant, but I damn sure didn’t appreciate it. I mean the guy had talked to me once. And I was not the one screaming and kicking doors in. (BTW, former husband and I are now friends again; we have forgiven each other.)

So now, 20-something years later I read the description of a borderline personality: “poor self-image; unstable relationships; mood swings; impulsive behavior; extreme fear of being abandoned; self-destructive behaviors. . . .” Damn, that was me at one point in my life. For the most part, I’ve managed to quell the craziness. No one who knows me now would call me impulsive or self-destructive. My moods aren’t any worse than any other menopausal maniac. I am separated from my current husband, but we were in a stable relationship for the past 18 years. As for abandonment, well, I’ve experienced it bigtime and handled it okay. So . . .all that leaves is poor self-image.

I’ve been working on that. For a long time. So part of my mission here is to be honest while at the same time not berating myself. My Science of Mind friends and mentors say to be careful of your words, be careful what you own. I think it’s okay to own up to the fact that I’m a reluctant self-promoter, but that I’m willing to do it. So tomorrow I’ll call up the local B&N once more and mention that the girl on the cover of my book goes to a high school near their store and that we might get a few of her friends to come for a book signing. And I will call up the funky little import store on Central Avenue again to see if they’ll be willing to be the venue for my party. And I’ll call the bookstore in Durham and try to convince them to have me do a book signing there in conjunction with a local radio interview. I mean, I’m not Pat Conroy. I’m Pat MacEnulty, and they haven’t heard of me in spite of my five books. So they don’t jump up and down like they’ve just won the lottery when I call ‘em up. This is going to take some effort.

In the meantime, I am grateful for Lorri, who is redesigning my website and serving as a stand-in publicist. And for Lynda, who invited me to San Miguel de Allende, and Heather at the Portland Library for saying, “Come on up!” Their support balances out the not-so-great things about this venture. It’s a beginning.