Common Author Freakouts, Part 5: But What About My Book Party?
By all means, have a book party if you're vaccinated. I mean, unless you hate parties. You should celebrate this huge achievement! Just be honest about about what, how, and why you want to celebrate.
Book party planning is a near-universal source of author agita.
As a cake-loving extrovert, I never could have predicted this before I saw it in action. I mean, I LIVE for parties. How could planning one ever inspire anxiety when you can have cake at that party and also have complete control over what kind of cake it is? And also put your OWN BOOK COVER on that cake??1
Over the course of many years as a literary agent, however, I’ve realized that whether or not they are hosted by authors themselves, book parties are mucho stressful, and it’s kind of a “no duh” why.
Book parties are like weddings. For the focal person or people, there’s a lot of, shall we say, surprise emotional undertow.
Book parties, like weddings, involve a large-group celebration of a monumental, intimate, transformative development in one’s life. The guest list generally includes everyone whose validation, approval, and attention one desires most. There’s deep, personal vulnerability involved as well as an implicit financial ask.
Unlike weddings, however, there is not a lot of external understanding about the emotional turmoil involved in a book party for the guest of honor. Weddings are solemn, formal, make-the-damn-trip-or-else occasions. Book parties? Eh, on par with a happy hour. For them. Not you. For you, it feels like an unrelenting taser of feelings, electric and uncomfortable feelings, all the feelings.
Here are some specific book party-related things authors freak out about.
Typical anxious questions authors ask me about book parties include:
Who is supposed to provide the books for my book party? Can I ask my publisher to provide me with free ones? Or should I be selling them at the party instead? How do I sell them if I want to do that?
When and where do you think I should throw my book party? Will more people come on a weeknight or on a Saturday?
[X or Y relative] has asked if she they throw me a little book party at her house. Is that okay?
Why isn’t my editor or publicist coming to my book party? Don’t they care?
If I hate parties, do I have to have a book party?
How can I have a party that gets people buzzing about my book? Like, one that sets literary Twitter ablaze with FOMO and journalists want to cover?
No one’s volunteered to throw me a book party. Can I ask someone to do that? Or can I throw one myself?
And here’s how I answer all of these: obnoxiously! Instead of giving them the specific information they’re seeking, I launch into a baffling big-picture monologue on what book parties are, mean, and might be for them. GEE, THANKS, ANNA.
For real though: to have a successful book party, what you need first is not practical information (although I will eventually give you that) but holistic self-understanding.
Here is the monologue about book parties I would give you if you asked me these things yourself.
You do not have to have a book party.
From a book sales perspective, parties are “eh” at best. Even the big, awesome ones generally move a couple dozen copies max, and most of those go to friends and family who would have bought your book elsewhere anyway.
However, if you want a book party, even a little, for any reason, DO IT.
If there were ever a good excuse for a celebration, it’s publishing a book. Unlike your birthday, you earned this and did it on purpose. Unlike your wedding (….I hope...), you got to this moment through years and years of relentless effort, struggle, perseverance, pain, and uncertainty. And unlike a 1970s key party, this one probably involves a lot of people you do not want to sleep with, but you do want to thank.
Accomplishment, bookending, thanks: all of these are great reasons to have a party. PR *might* be, too, but only if you are famous, notorious, unusually fascinating, or well-connected. (More on that in a moment.)
Please have a party unless you only think you should have one for the book sales.
Very few authors actually have the kind of public profile that even might translate into sales-generating publicity for their book party, let alone huge sales at the party itself.
Emphasis on book sales-generating publicity. Non-famous but wealthy socialites might be able to convince Washington Life, Capitol File, or the local equivalent to send over a society page photographer. This will not sell anything.
When stranded on the toilet, I love a good society pages perusal as much as anyone. But you do know that society pages exist to get you, the photographed, to feel flattered, buy prints, and talk up the magazine…right? It’s profitable PR for the thing *they* want to sell, not you.
If you want to have a book party, don’t feel like you need to justify that desire by telling your friends/family/publishing team you’re doing it “to sell books.”
One common reason people freak out about book parties, or about asking friends to throw them book parties, is their Internalized Puritanical Bullshit. They think this will come off as narcissistic unless they can come up with some “productive” justification like “the book sales” or “it’s good PR.”
Please do not do this. If your friends are not seasoned booksellers, they’ll feel like they failed if their party for you isn’t a QVC whole-stock sellout. And if they know publishing, they’ll know it’s a fig leaf, and they will be annoyed.
IT IS OKAY TO WANT A PARTY JUST BECAUSE.
IT IS OKAY TO WANT A PARTY JUST BECAUSE.
IT IS OKAY TO WANT A PARTY JUST BECAUSE.
Do you know what all, ALL, non-psychopathic human beings need to feel okay? Ritual, hope, plans, in-person company, connection, regard. These things are, like, Maslow’s-hierarchy fundamental. They are the opposite of stupid. On the contrary, compared to them, book sales are stupid.
As you plan your book party, do not be surprised if Godzilla feelings harsh your mellow at random, baffling times.
In my family, we have a phrase: “it’s not about the coat.” It’s our way of referring to the moments in life when one gets disproportionately upset about a mild setback because it’s a nicely fungible stand-in for some huge, amorphous inner turmoil.2
Book parties are wont to create many “it’s not about the coat” moments. For instance, you, the author, might not know until you’re ready to start party planning that book publishers pretty much never plan or help out with them. At all. Ever.
When you DO realize this, even though it’s normal, you might get upset—so upset that you feel weirded out and ashamed, like you’re being a big, needy baby.
Ditto if your editor, agent, publicist, or best friend RSVPs “no” to your party, which they often do if the party isn’t happening where they live. You are not being a needy baby if you are upset. Publishing a book will make any repressed neglect or inattention trauma you have ever experienced come farting straight out from the bowels of your subconscious. It just will. You are only being a baby if you blame this extreme upset rooted in past trauma on the people who inadvertently triggered it today.
As you plan this party, do not fall prey to unrealistic expectations and “if/then” thinking.
Your hypercritical parents are not going to come to your book party, weep at what an amazing and accomplished adult you have become, praise you lavishly, and never criticize you again.
Your nemeses are not going to come to the party and say, “I surrender. I could never accomplish something more significant or attractive than this.”
Your emotionally unavailable crush is not going to show up and say, “as of this moment, you are officially so impressive that I will become a completely different person for you and forthwith pitch my woo.”
Your emotional problems are not Cinderella’s poverty. They are not going to disappear by magic because of a single party.
Stop expecting this kind of external circumstance to change your internal landscape. Stop it!!
If you happen to be someone whose platform actually DOES justify one of those PR/marketing parties that’s, like, “My Book: a Gala Event at Bloomingdale’s, hosted by Purina (R),” you need to start planning for it at least 6 months before you want it to happen. AT LEAST.
This is not my field of expertise, so to be sure, I asked my friend and occasional co-conspirator Kate Gardiner of Grey Horse. (Grey Horse is a fantastic media strategy, communications, and PR company that has helped plan several events of this nature, including some of my clients’.)
Here’s what she texted back: “Six to eight months in general is best because it allows you to bid out vendors, assess possible partnerships and put together pitch decks for possible collaborations. It also allows you to arrange longer-term print options and other hard to arrange situations and scenarios.”
FYI, this is also true if you’re not trying to snag corporate sponsors, but you’ve got deep pockets and the kind of book party you want is more “gala” than “happy hour.” Big events need big lead time. Don’t Fyre Festival yourself.
You should absolutely sell vs. give away books at your book party unless the attendees are a small group of ENORMOUSLY influential people or a small group of ENORMOUSLY meaningful friends and family.
If it’s one of the latter two, ask your publisher for an extra box of copies. In the unlikely event they say no, use your author copies, which are meant to be used as gratitude/calling-card copies for family, friends, and any sources, librarians, or people like that who helped you with research.
In all other circumstances, sell some goddamn books. I said not to have a book party just to sell books. I didn’t say not to sell books if you do have a party. OF COURSE YOU SHOULD!! Every book sale counts.
Here’s how you do that: you or the person hosting your party should call the events department at your favorite local indie bookstore. Almost all indie bookstores or indie chains have a designated person or group of people whose job it is to sell books for the store at parties.
Many of these bookstores require a minimum number of sales, e.g. 25-30 hardcovers. If you don’t want to be on the hook for buying unsold stock up to that minimum and suspect sales will be modest, do one of two things: find another local bookstore that has no minimum, or sell books yourself, shotgun style.
Shotgun style = bribe people to buy the book on their own. Tell your guests that if they bring their purchased copy of the book for you to autograph, show you a receipt, OR nervously purchase a copy in front of you on their phones as you stare at them smiling nearby like Hannibal Lecter, they will receive a special prize. This could be a raffle ticket for one big thing (how about a novelty carved human skull??) or something small like an attractive, cheap book-themed bracelet you have bulk ordered from Etsy.
If you end up paying for anything related to your book party, remember that entertainment and promotional costs are a tax deductible business expense. (You do have an accountant, right? Please tell me you do.)
What a great book party looks like
A few weeks ago, I went to an amazing book party. It was heartfelt and joyful. There were toasts, tears, gorgeous custom decorations, a reading, AN OPEN BAR, and lots of delicious food. I stayed for like 5 hours. I regret nothing. Wow, have I missed parties.
Our host was author Kelsey McKinney—not a client, but a friend. (::Pitchman voice:: her new book is GOD SPARE THE GIRLS, a novel as elegiac and aching as a Texas twilight, all about the pain of growing up and figuring out what the actual deal is with your life and family, as opposed to the story your parents have told you you’re living. Buy it!!)
This party struck me as pretty much the ideal book party. Every single person who attended seemed to leave it feeling profoundly uplifted and happy.
I asked Kelsey if she would answer some questions about it for me and all of you. (Apparently, this newsletter interviews people now!) I’m just going to copypaste our text exchange from here, because I’m lazy.
Me: OK, so here are my questions: when did you decide you wanted to throw a book party? What did you want from the experience? Where did you get those amazing book title banner/garland things? And did the party satisfy you in the way you hoped it would?
KELSEY: 1) I am extremely bad at enjoying anything. I’m always trying to downplay my own success and ruin good things by moving right on into the next piece of work to do. But I have also been in therapy for 10 years! My very good current therapist encouraged me to remember that publishing a book was my Life Goal, and to try and treat it as such. I didn’t really know how to do this well, but we brainstormed and I decided a party was the answer in the lull period about 3 months out when the book was done but there was no publicity for me to do yet!
2) I wanted it to be fun! Three of my very close friends (because I was overwhelmed and stressed about the book) offered to help “host” the party and helped me plan and organize it. My number one priority in all situations is what I will eat so I knew I wanted good food and good drinks and for everyone to have a nice and chill time.
3) My friend Jess had them made by a creator on Instagram (@loveartmexico)!
4) I was surprised by how much I needed the party. I knew from my therapy that publishing the book wouldn’t change my life drastically but I don’t think I realized how much like a normal Tuesday publishing day would feel like. I had a ton of work to do but I couldn’t get myself to feel proud of myself. The party forced me to feel proud of myself because all my pals and my family were saying how proud of me they were and making me cry! I felt really full afterward remembering that no matter how the book does sales wise I had still accomplished something big! Also the food was really good!
Number four, people. NUMBER FOUR.
Life is about the people you love and the people who love you. Have a party if you have those people in your life, because wow, is it something to cherish. A party with those people will sustain you for a long, long time, filling you and them alike with joy and gratitude.
Moments like that are all that matters in life. All. Really, truly. I mean, that and food.
(From right to left: Kelsey; my beloved client Olivia; me, standing on one leg for unclear reasons because this is how socially awkward I’ve become in 2021; Kelsey’s agent/glorious human Dana Murphy)
Am I now fantasizing about peeling off your sweet, sweet book cover fondant and chewing it lustily in front of you, the author, as you look on aghast, because yes, I really love the taste of fondant that much? Mmm. Good. You bet. ::pervert eyes::
Why we call it this stems from an incident my sister once had with an inebriated and sobbing business school friend that was, you guessed it, not about the coat.
So helpful. I’m three months out from release day! ! And I just committed to my venue. I feel vulnerability hangover already and yet the slightest best excitement.