Flossy, flossy
13May2007 Filed under: JournalishI think perhaps I’ve been misrepresenting my life on Electrolicious. I’ve gotten the impression via emails and comments and conversations that I’ve mislead you all into thinking my life is in some way glamorous. That I wrote a book and now my life is all champagne and gold ingots showering down. Please allow me to dispel these misconceptions by telling you a little about my trip to San Francisco this weekend — which was filled with magical people and important conversations, but far from the stuff of limos and private jets.
As with all my book promotional trips, I flew to San Francisco on my own dime. My publisher doesn’t have a budget for any sort of touring, so I scraped together the cheapest flight I could find, which had me getting in shortly before midnight on Thursday. I’d begged an old friend for a place to stay (no promo budget for a hotel), only to find a few days ago that the friend was actually going to be out of town for the weekend. This lead me to do a little scramble Friday morning, calling Vera and begging her to let me stay at her house that night. (Thank you, Vera!)
Unlike last Friday, I had no press engagements before my evening reading. While Vancouver media seemed interested in the book, no one in San Francisco (radio, tv, or newspaper) wanted to talk to me about it. That was fine, since as last week proved, press appearances don’t result in anyone coming to the reading, so why bother? I had Friday to myself, and I spent it first with my friend Travis, and then bathed in color at Vera’s.
My reading Friday night was in a the children’s/young adult corner of a small indie bookstore. There were 10 of us there (including me), and I stood in front of a shelf of stuffed animals and did my thing with my sock puppet. The small crowd included my aunt, several blogging buddies (Vera! Amy! Leila!) and their guests, an old raver friend, and an Indiebride.com reader. 10 people.
I am so incredibly grateful and appreciative of each of them taking the time to come to the reading — I’ve done several book events where only a couple people show up. Any reading with a few friendly faces is a blessing compared to sitting at a table by myself wondering how long I should wait before calling it a wash, packing up my fuck taffeta shirts, and dragging my sorry ass home.
Friday night was an extra success because I sold a few books at the end of the reading. My cut of the books sold amounts to about $7.50, none of which I’ll see because I’m still earning back my small advance. My advance was no five figure sum allowing me to quit my job. It was approximately one month’s worth of pay, most of which I’ve spent promoting the book since it came out. One month’s worth of pay for a project that I’m finishing two years of work on. This is not the stuff of mortgage payments.
Are you getting the picture here? In San Francisco I scraped by on the good will of friends who are willing to open their homes to me and take time out of their lives to come to my reading. This isn’t some sort of glitzy fabulousness: this is the raw, simple kindness of loved ones keeping me from falling flat on my face. And for that, I am endlessly thankful.
My trip to San Francisco was filled with dear friends and deeply appreciated moments. But be not ye fooled by all my preening and boasting and blabbering on this website: my life is not the stuff of flossy dreams. It’s my birthday this week, and my plans include a scary medical procedure, a visit to a new therapist to try to figure out why I’m always freaking out, a couple days fielding upset emails from people about an event I do for fun, and another book event that will pull 10 folks if I’m lucky.
Don’t worry: I’m fine. But don’t go getting fooled by my bluster and thinking that what you see here is all there is. I hold the darkness close and tight late at night, and it’s only through the blessing of my friends and family that I’m not a complete wreck.
Thanks to each and every one of you for all the support.
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10 Responses to “Flossy, flossy”
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Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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gillian
May 14th, 2007 at 5:32 am
i’ve never commented before but your post moved me. i just wanted to say you don’t have to justify yourself to anyone. i admire you for what you are doing. you go girl.
Maven
May 14th, 2007 at 7:21 am
Recently I was idly wondering why I seem to attract people who appear to have their shit together but who are in fact kind of a mess, and at the same moment I realized I’d just described myself and pretty much everybody else and I started laughing. We’re all just trying to hold it down, right? I can tell you’re not looking for affirmation or sympathy with this post, but I will say nonetheless that I think it’s righteous how many risks you take.
About a year ago I heard a woman in her early 40s say that her life had always been good, but that in her late 30s she’d really come into herself and settled and gotten peaceful. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of that since, while trying to reassure myself that clarity can’t be that far off.
Abigail
May 14th, 2007 at 9:15 am
Oh, what a fabulous post! My close friends who were witness to the inner workings of my book launch/tour/sales will also appreciate it!
It’s not that you are misleading people, Ariel. It’s that many people make assumptions. Namely, that seeing you on TV or hearing you on the radio automatically equals to earnings in your pocket. The only numbers the public ever hears that are connected to books are the big numbers (like Hilary Clinton getting an $8 million advance) so they assume that being and “author” makes EVERY writer “rich and famous.”
Another misconception, which you address here, is that authors make a living off of book sales. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked to do a reading somewhere with no compensation, but with what they think is a great incentive: “You can sell books there!” Little do they know that what I “earn” on the books (which may or MAY NOT be purchased that day) doesn’t actually go into my pocket.
Most people are stunned when I break down the business reality of non-A-List authors. You do it here beautifully.
By Jane
May 14th, 2007 at 9:30 am
You said it right and clear and well for all of us who have published books! Put me right back there. The only thing I’d add is this, and maybe it’s not true for you: I grew up with the same idealized image everyone has of what it’s like to publish a book. It’s that image that enables the fantasies. Realizing reality was quite a crunch for me. It took me years (if ever!) to get over the feeling that if only I had been better, etc. etc., my book would have gotten the attention I wanted.
amy.leblanc
May 14th, 2007 at 1:02 pm
on my way to work this morning, i was drafting up an email in my head i intended to send to you privately, but i think this is a good place to put it.
i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but i’m very proud of you. in terms of our mutually-shared interests, talents and aspirations, you’ve done very well for yourself, in my opinion, certainly far more than i’m accomplishing on the same topics, and these days i consider you a bit of a role model.
anyone working for themselves, running a business, or trying to make it as any kind of artist (which writers are) knows it’s not glamorous dealing with contracts and insurance papers and bottom-lines and budgets and schedules and appointments and such. so, in that sense, i’ve found it a great consolation that you’ve found so many positive (and FUN!) things to note in this venture. i certainly wouldn’t want to read an endless blog about what a pain in the ass it all is. sure, it’s good to be informative, but i think you also aspire to inspire people, and you’re doing that by taking lemons and making lemonade, even if only in some respects here for your readers while sucking on the raw lemons by yourself, late at night under the blankets.
i also think there’s still a great deal of personal disconnection via this medium, and if people are projecting their ideas of what it means to be a published author (glamorous and perk-filled), that’s more because of pre-existing notions that what you’ve represented here. i think you’ve represented yourself and the experience quite appropriately, considering the platform.
….and that, i think, leads into your next book, doesn’t it? i can already see it peeking through the lines of your text….
much love,
a
Brodie
May 14th, 2007 at 2:45 pm
First, great post. Moving in fact. The reason I have read your blog since, well, forever. I want to clarify one simple point. Glamorous wasn’t a reference to your pocketbook or level of affluence. I’ve read along enough to note that isn’t the case with you or your writing. It was more a relative comparison, I suppose. My life = not glamorous. Yours=more than mine. I read your blog because you two live an aspect of life that is not present in mine. Travel! Seattle! Hip Furniture! Book Authoring! Circus classes! Bali! Canada! (ok, maybe Canada doesn’t need an exclamation mark…) Regardless of money and bling-bling, yours is a FUN life to read about. Maybe someday I’ll start once again with my own blog, but until that time comes, I’ll take a bit of vicarious thrill in the lives of some strangers up in the NW.
heather
May 14th, 2007 at 7:09 pm
i’ve always loved reading your blog, and will continue to do so..
but i am confused as to why you thought you had to justify yourself by making it clear that things are still difficult for you.. i know i would still respect you regardless - doing well and being successful is not a bad thing. you don’t have to show that things are still “hard” for you to be a good person.
Ariel
May 14th, 2007 at 7:15 pm
Heather, the motivation wasn’t justifying myself — it was more just calibrating other’s projections about what my life is like, based on what they read on Electrolicious. I realized that since I only share the most positive aspects of my life, people get a slightly warped picture of it … assuming that it’s all good, when in actuality this spring has been incredibly difficult for me. There are a lot of things going on in my life that I don’t write about on my blog, and since I only give people a positive keyhole into my life, I feel like sometimes I need to make sure people understand the dark realities beneath the self-promotional, publicly facing exterior that is this blog.
rosie
May 15th, 2007 at 8:57 am
I so hear you (re: comment above) - that’s the most difficult thing about blogging for me. Based on a few paragraphs published online, people think they have you all figured out. It’s like, you don’t want to be all peaches and sunshine on the blog all the time, because that feels fake, but then the second you write about feeling shitty, everyone suddenly assumes you’ve gone deep into the depths of despair, and bring on the prozac!
The ups and downs….that’s just straight up LIFE. But I constantly feel like I have to justify myself too.
emily
May 15th, 2007 at 10:35 am
Work. You’re an author, a writer. It only appears you have a lot of fun shit going on out there, Ariel. Especially to me, here in Iowa, SAHM, three kids. Traveling to BC, SF, simply LIVING in Seattle for god’s sake provides great images of freedom, but not glamor. Your sprig of greens here to my right could be a metaphor for the grass being greener…
Realizing people have the right to label me however they will without defending or explaining myself is a great power of confidence.
p.s. I love reading your blog. Appreciate your writing style - what’s it called in writing when you write like you talk? Checking your pictures.