So, I’ve written a book. And I’ve published a book. But there is more to do.
Here comes the part nobody warns you about: once your book is “out there”, you discover that “out there” can be a very quiet place unless you are prepared to talk about it. And that means talking about it a lot. Your creative side is part of the old you, with the marketing and promotion side being the new you.
Learning to speak up
Public speaking used to terrify me. It was something to be avoided at all costs – until the day I ran out of places to hide.
“Would you mind speaking at the Bradford Combined Court Centre, as the usual person can’t?” asked a director at the law firm where I worked.
It felt more like a statement than a question, implying my name was already down. I took the hint and reluctantly agreed, whilst at the same time trying to remember if my employment contract had mentioned having to embarrass myself in front of large crowds.
I was now responsible for explaining what a typical day was like for a wills, probate and property solicitor to students on the SPRUCE Law Programme – a programme for young people thinking about a career in law. My task was to highlight the skills they might need, as well as the advantages and disadvantages of this career path, by giving them an honest account of my own working life – but maybe not such an honest account of the mess that was my desk. Adding to my presentation notes that I was a solicitor because I couldn’t think of anything else to do was something else that might not be worth mentioning.
I spent three weeks rummaging through files, pulling out the most interesting stories and the clients I’d never forget:
· the ones who relied on me
· the ones who ignored me
· and the one who said, “Why should I believe anything you say – you’re a solicitor, for God’s sake.”
I packed these stories up into an anonymous compilation of the words of the wise (me) to those considering a legal career, then spent several nights feeling anxious, wondering how it would be received, until the day of the talk finally arrived.
Waking them up (and myself)
My slot was at the end of their three-day course, at the end of the day, after lunch, in a warm courtroom. In other words: peak snooze time.
They needed a jolt.
“Wakey, wakey,” I said. “You won’t be coming to work to snooze, as there will be a receptionist to pay for, an assistant, books, and professional indemnity insurance. You will hear some very sad stories on a regular basis, but you can’t adopt every granny and grandpa you come across. This isn’t social work – that’s a different career. We help people, but we must also get paid for our work.”
They sat up, listened, and even laughed at some of my anecdotes. For the first time, people were really listening to me – and they wanted more.
I was invited back the following year, and the year after that, too.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe I wasn’t that bad at it after all.
From terrified speaker to book promoter
After my book launch, a friend said, “I couldn’t stand up in front of people and speak like that.”
I knew exactly how she felt; that used to be me.
These days, I can enjoy talking about memoir writing and my journey to self-publishing, whether it’s at the local library, the Buxton for Books event, or any other opportunity that comes my way to share my news – I’ve got a book up on Amazon.
While publishing the book was a complex process, I’m finding that the best part is standing up, speaking out, and sharing my work with others. If someone like me, a formerly terrified solicitor, from her desk on the high street, can discuss her working life with teenagers and share insights on memoir writing with strangers, then perhaps the most daunting part of sharing my work isn’t the public speaking – it’s having the confidence to believe that my voice and my story are worth listening to.
Thank you to all the reviewers who have posted such positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.