My Metaphorical Baseball Field

If you build it, they will come.

Kevin Costner followed this advice in Field of Dreams and it worked out for him. So how about for a fresh-faced author, huh? 

If you write it, they will read. 

I wish it were that simple. 

I wrote the book, I published the book, and now people should read the book, right? But first, they have to actually find the book. They. have to see the cover, read the synopsis, and decide whether they want to take a chance. Maybe they chat with me, enjoy my enthusiasm and easy banter, and want to help a gal out. To those of you who have done just that. Thank you. Thank you very much. For those who do not know who I am and haven't seen my book at all: therein lies the challenge. My potential readers aren't ghosts that will magically find the baseball field in the middle of Iowa farmland. No, these are readers in the flooded wild of capitalism, already inundated with products of varying quality. How am I supposed to be found in the giant pile of recreational purchases? 

I'm trying my best, putting myself out there, doing all the things. But, man, this author beat is a tough one. I'm out there working book fairs, craft shows, and festivals. I'm hosting Ladies' Night Out programs at libraries, using my class management skills to help me engage potential readers with party games and discussion. And I'm doing the social media thing, posting, filming, and trying to capture my authentic self all in the hopes that someone will choose me. 

The only way to survive this gig is to not take myself too seriously and laugh when the outcome isn't quite as expected. It's a good thing I've been laughing at myself for forty years now, because there are moments where it could easily slip into mopey woe-is-me self-deprecation. Don't get me wrong, I've had those moments, too. However, I'm finding the more "failures" I have, the easier it is to brush off. It's like playing the field, and this time I'm not referring to the baseball field analogy from before. No, like the dating field (which I thankfully wasn't part of for too long). 

In all honesty, I'm a people-pleaser searching for a sense of accomplishment, asking for that pat on the head, whining like a puppy for a sign of love. But by putting myself out there and experiencing rejection, I'm getting more and more comfortable with that previously-feared brush off. So maybe that's why I became an author. To fix the part of me that seeks fulfillment from the acceptance and praise of others. 

And if so, it's working. I think I'm becoming stronger in my sense of self. 

But I'd still really like to sell books. 

So I'll keep building my metaphorical baseball field and hope some ghost players come wandering in and decide to stay awhile. Otherwise, what do I have? Just an empty, dusty pile of dirt? No thanks. I'd much rather try to run the bases than hang in the dugout. 

Okay, that's enough sports metaphors for me. Catch me on the socials or come see me at an event. I'd love to try and win you over!