Publishing a Book Forty Years Ago vs. Publishing a Book Now

 

As I was doing my massive book giveaway this summer, I realized that I had published my very first book, Luisa's American Dream, in 1981. Now, forty years later, I am publishing my 61st book, Boogie Bass, Sign Language Star, coming out from Holiday House on August 3. 

Forty years ago, books were just. . . published. There it was, my book, out in the world. I don't remember even knowing what the "pub date" was, or indeed even knowing that there was such a thing as a "pub date," though I suppose there had to be a particular date on which the book came to exist as a physical object available for purchase. But that date certainly wasn't on my radar as its author.

There was no such thing as a pre-publication "cover reveal" on Facebook and Twitter, because there was no such thing as the internet. Indeed, there weren't even any personal computers, not to mention laptops and cellphones. I typed that first book on an IBM Selectrix typewriter. There was no such thing - or at least I didn't know of any such thing - as a "book launch." And if there had been, I certainly wouldn't be telling people about it on my blog, because there were no such things as blogs. 

The commonality across the decades is that, both then and now, it's a wondrous - and anxious - thing to publish a book, to pour one's heart into its pages, work through all the stages of publication with the publisher's editorial team, and then to send it off to make its brave way into the wide, wide world. I feel the same joy - and trepidation - now as I did four decades ago. 

Boogie Bass, Sign Language Star is the fourth and final title in a four-book chapter book series set in an after-school program, where every month (and every book) takes place in a different month-long after-school camp: cooking camp, comic book camp, coding camp, and now, sign language camp. 

The research for the books was as fun as the writing itself. I did know something about cooking when I wrote Nixie Ness, Cooking Star, but comic books and coding were completely new territory for me. (I might note that "coding" as an activity for kids didn't exist forty years ago, either!) 

Sign language was most challenging of all: American Sign Language is extraordinarily beautiful as a form of human communication, but not easy to describe in words, especially in words for third-grade-level readers. But Boogie fell in love with it, and I did too. 

Dear readers, you are all invited to my (virtual) book launch for Boogie Bass, Sign Language Star, on Tuesday, August 3, 6:00 p.m. Mountain Time, hosted by one of Denver's treasured indie bookstores, BookBar (where you can browse a wide assortment of books AND have a glass of wine and delicious munchies). Indeed, I wrote part of Boogie's story, pre-pandemic, sitting on one of their comfy couches. 

Here's the link to the event if you want to come. All are welcome! 

Swedish Death Cleaning? Or Swedish LIFE Cleaning?

I've been proceeding with great cheerfulness on my current project of "Swedish death cleaning" -  clearing out one's mountains of accumulated stuff NOW to spare your grieving children/heirs the arduous task of dealing with it later.

I not only donated hundreds of author copies of my own books, I also cleared out heaps of other books from my bookcases, using the rule of thumb that if I was never going to open this book again in this lifetime, I might as well let someone else enjoy it. 

I had a stylish friend come over and review the contents of my closet, helping me sort clothes into piles to be donated, to be altered for better fit, or to be actually worn once again (to give my same three or four favorite items a much-deserved rest). 

I tackled boxes in the attic of stuff that was once my mother's and once my husband's. 

I even found a home for a box of fabric left over from my quilting days (some thirty-five years ago), by offering it on a neighborhood email list. 

When I told my younger son about this new obsession, he didn't seem as relieved as I expected. In his usual quiet, matter-of-fact way, he said, "Mom, everybody has to clean out a house at some point in their lives, and you just do it." Certainly, however much I do now, there will be plenty for him to do later, so I'm grateful that he is already predisposed to face this task with good grace.

But his comment made me realize how much I'm doing this project not for him, but for ME.

I'm now entering the third third of my life. The curtain is about to go up on Act III. For the first time in decades, I have no caregiving responsibilities for anyone but myself. )Cue Diana Ross singing, "It's My Turn.") And I've been making some hard but good decisions about my professional future that are going to lead me in a radically new direction, as yet to be determined. 

Will I move to Paris? Or Latvia? Or somewhere totally unexpected? Will I stay here but fill my days in some entirely new way? The future is a blank slate for me, blanker than it's ever been before. 

It will be easier to write the next chapter of my story, whatever it may be, if I make not only emotional but physical space for it. (Give yourself the treat of watching my friend Elizabeth Dulemba's fabulous TED talk, "Is Your Stuff Stopping You?"). 

I am making room for something wonderful to happen.

So now I'm off to brave the box that has my high school papers in it... 

What Should An Author Do with Hundreds of Old Author Copies?: My Gigantic, Ginormous, Gargantuan Book Giveaway

I published my first book exactly forty years ago, in 1981. 

I'm publishing #61 (Boogie Bass, Sign Language Star) and #62 (The Lost Language) this year.

For each book published I get a contracted number of complimentary author copies, often in both hardcover and paperback (and sometimes in foreign language editions - ooh!). When a book goes out of print (as most of mine eventually do), I may get another batch of free copies as a consolation prize. Over the years, I've given away a lot of these books to friends, provided baskets full of them for silent auctions, and sold them at author appearances. 

But, after publishing 62 books over the course of four decades, I still have a LOT of copies left. 

I counted them up: the total came to 462 books, housed in a repurposed linen closet, and in cartons in my attic, and cartons under my desk. 

I've been thinking quite a bit these days about "Swedish death cleaning," the practice of getting rid of excess stuff so that your grieving children/heirs won't have to do this after you're dead and gone. I don't expect to be dead and gone for another twenty years, or more, but I figured I might as well Swedish-death-clean these books while I'm still spry and agile. 

So I dragged them all out, organized them in piles all over the floor, and pondered their fate.

On Facebook I solicited ideas for what to do with this many children's books, all by the same author. Dozens of people responded. I was hoping for - and received - wonderful suggestions of organizations that have programs already in place to distribute books to children in need of them (see below). I preferred this simpler approach to trying to do-it-myself, contacting schools (in the middle of the summer) or hospitals (toward the end of a pandemic), or wandering around town stuffing my 462 books into Little Free Libraries.  

What I hadn't expected was how many people said, "Send them to me!" "Send them to my classroom!" "Send them to my school!" "We'd love some!" "We want them all!" 

At first I thought I would apologize for not being able to make individual donations. All that packaging, all that labeling, all that lugging of padded mailers and boxes to the post office! I would just pick one or two of the wonderful big organizations and ship them everything.

But . . . I wanted to send a book or two at least to this high school friend's granddaughter, and this college friend's nephew, and this librarian I met at a conference, and this former student, and this neighbor from long ago, and this committed teacher....

So: I now have 22 smaller packages (padded mailers containing a couple of books and cardboard boxes with half a dozen, or eight, or ten books) in my car to take to the post office, plus four large and very heavy cartons. Don't you feel sorry for whoever is behind me in line?! And my floor is STILL covered with books!

I love sending these book children out into the world to everybody who is kind enough to welcome them. 

Let there be books for everyone! 

In case you have your own big heaps of books to share, here are some of the organizations mentioned in response to my social media post:

The Lisa Libraries (this was the one mentioned most)

Reach Out and Read (this is the link to the Colorado chapter; I believe it's a nationwide program)

Appalachian Literacy Initiative 

Books to Kids (donation program from local indie bookstore Second Star to the Right)

BookGive (donation program from local indie bookstore BookBar)

Bess the Book Bus

Let there be books for everyone!