In Which Phones Are Abhored

I’ve been dragging my feet long enough.  Starting in May, I have three months to promote my story in the Cup of Comfort series.  I’m torn.  I donwanna.  But really, I wanna.  It feels arrogant and vulnerable to say, “Hi, hello, do you want to interview me?  Would you like me to come do a book signing?  I know that you have absolutely no idea who I am.  kthx.”  But really, I need to buck up and learn how to do this.  So I’ve thrown off my shyness.  I’m remembering my New Year’s Resolution to do things that scare me.

This morning I looked up a few local bookstores.  I was thinking, hey, they’ll give me an email address and I can make a formal request for a signing opportunity.

Nope.  I have to call.  Physically call.  Like, on a phone!  I have to pick up a phone in my hand, and then dial numbers, and hold the thing to my mouth!  And a stranger will pick up the other end, and I’ll say things, and the stranger will answer, and this stranger and I will have a stilted, awkward dialogue where I throw myself on their mercy.

I abhor you, phone.  I abhor you.

I mean, calling my friends is one thing.  But even then, I usually send off an email.  How many times have I shown up on your call list, Illiterati?  Hate hate hate!

I’m thinking of just going in person, because I conduct myself better in person than on the phone.  I can read faces and body language.  The phone leaves you in the dark.  Not to mention that the second I pick the dastardly thing up, my children turn into wild, shrieking banshees.

Anyway.  I’m going to call/barge in and try and set some things up.  I’m also going to email (I hope!  Please let me email!) the local newspapers, and the newspapers back home for interviews.  I’m actually excited to talk to the people back home, because it’ll be fun.  I’ll try and do a signing at the library or something, (we don’t have a bookstore) hopefully when I come up to see Jan.  So Jan!  We need to coordinate!

I suppose I should be afraid that I’ll show up at a reading and nobody will come.  Honestly, I’m not fazed by that at the moment.  If I can strap myself down and make these phone calls, the hard part will already be finished.  That’s my real fear.  That’s my real dread.

That, and getting lascivious fan fic about asymmetrical bobs.  I know it’s coming.

 

0 Comments on “In Which Phones Are Abhored”

  1. i am convinced you don’t even have a phone. It’s connected to a smoke-signal generating device which transmits binary code which you then convert into email.
    yes… that’s it.

    but, seriously: GO FOR IT! We’ll drag people to your signings. Including storm troopers.

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