Making Friends in a New Town is Like Writing After You’ve Become a Publishing Orphan
by Debra H. Goldstein
The first time I was orphaned by a publisher, my book, Maze in Blue had been in existence for less than six months. Until, as my plane was about to land for my first Sleuthfest, I opened the e-mail telling me my publisher was going out of business, I’d been on cloud nine. The book, a mystery set on the University of Michigan’s campus, was selling well. I was enjoying the opportunity to hobnob with and fan-girl writers I’d admired from afar and to meet other newbies like me. Best of all, I was booked for conference panels, bookstore signings, and book club presentations for at least the next six months.
When my plane landed, I was in a tizzy. Every agent and author I spoke to at Sleuthfest gave me the same advice: “Write something new.” Great advice, but could I? For weeks, I only wanted to roll myself into a ball and hide, but I didn’t. I attended the panels, signings, and other presentations with a smile on my face that hid my inner turmoil. Even winning an IPPY award for the book didn’t change my personal feelings. Despite my emotions, I knew I had to take the advice to write something new, continue taking craft classes, and redouble my networking with other authors.
Basically, I had to fake it until I made it.
I had the same reaction when the publisher of my second book, Should Have Played Poker: a Carrie Martin and the Mah Jongg Players Mystery, decided to end its mystery line. Although I once again felt hollow inside, this time there were other authors who gave me emotional support as I followed the advice to write something new. Happily, things worked out with Kensington soon publishing the first of five Sarah Blair mysteries.
As I write this, I’ve just moved from Alabama to Georgia. In doing so, I will be nearer to one of my daughters and her family, but I’m leaving behind a great network of friends. Although I know a few people in the Atlanta area, I’m going to have to force myself out of my comfort zone to make new friends. If you give me a microphone, I can be funny, but small talk and reaching out to people is much harder for me. From my writing experience and life in general, I’ve learned that it’s simply a matter of faking it until I make it.
Fingers crossed that the lessons I’ve learned from writing will translate to being in Georgia.
