Blurb-Soliciting Is a Lot Like Breast-Pumping

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

It occurred to me the other day, as I sat down to buff my wishlist of blurbers for Bittersweet, that seeking people to say nice things about one’s book is remarkably similar to pumping breastmilk.

The metaphor doesn’t run particularly deep (it’s certainly less resonant than the “publishing a book is like giving birth” metaphor that gets tossed around a lot), but the truth is, both activities have something illicit, and a little sad, and a little desperate-feeling about them, at least in my experience.

I didn’t pump a whole lot with my son, because I was working from home. But those few times I did, I found myself in some dark room somewhere staring at my breasts, trying to think about my son and waiting for let-down. And there is nothing that will make your milk not let down more than really really REALLY wanting it to. Then there was the milk itself, which had to be poured and carried and kept cool, and the people I was dining with, or working with, who studied me, perplexed, when I emerged from whatever dark room I had been in. And then I had to decide, do I tell them, or not? Because people you’re having dinner with really don’t want to hear about how you were just hooked up to a milking machine.

How does this relate to seeking blurbs?

First of all, like pumping, asking for blurbs feels definitely like something you want to keep on the down low. It’s rare to admit, and broadcast (as I guess I am right here), “I really would like someone famous/ well-reviewed/ with a bestseller to say something nice about my book because gee, then maybe a reader who likes their book will pick mine up in the bookstore and say, ‘Hey! X likes this book! I’ll read it!'” I’m not sure many writers want to believe that getting someone in the heartland to buy their novel would be helped by such a stamp of approval. But you know what? It is. My aunt, a religious reader, says she absolutely swears by blurbs. And they are here to stay (although I’ve found most writers dread asking for them as much as they dread being asked to write them), so, like pumping for a breast-fed baby, you just gotta seek them out.

Second (and this is probably why most of us keep this part of the process a secret), there’s a sense of inevitable failure. It’s guaranteed that someone whose work you love and admire, who you’ve just got your heart set on blurbing you, will just give you a flat-out “no.” Us writers are used to rejection, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. Most times when I pumped and stored a lot of milk in anticipation of a date night? The kid wouldn’t take the bottle. All that milk I’d made (all those books I’ve read, those letters I’ve carefully crafted, those FedEx packages I’ve paid for) ended up being for naught.

Finally (and perhaps most importantly), I find myself getting greedy, and I hate feeling greedy. When I was pumping, I was always looking at that line on the plastic bottle– could I get 3 ounces? 4? I was never fully satisfied. Likewise, I found with my last book that I was always hungry for one more blurb, believing that whoever gave me the next stamp of approval would be the one who’d send the book straight to the top.

This time around, I’m trying to be more even-keeled about the whole thing. If I haven’t already, I am reading the most recent book of every writer I’m seeking a quote from, because I’m asking the same from them. I’m doing my best to let each writer know how much I appreciate the work they do, and how it has influenced my own. And I’m celebrating the small victories– the writer friend who has said an enthusiastic yes, and is reading the book on her vacation, for example. Just like looking down at my plump baby and feeling proud of those thighs, I’m believing in my book, in the fact that this process is a necessary step in it finding its way out into the world to shine.

Same View, August 18th and 19th

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

Yesterday the dock was filled with family– my parents, my husband and son, my aunt and uncle from Seattle and my aunt from Provincetown. And the bay was filled with boats:

 

Nearly to sunset, I snuck back down to the water for a glimpse of the clouds:

 

This morning, the dock was empty again, and I left it for a day of work in the city with a heavy heart. We’re heading to Maine tomorrow for a week on a different lake, and I certainly can’t complain! But I will miss this view. I’m glad I’ll be seeing it again for Labor Day weekend before heading back to life in the city and September:

 

Same View, August 16th & 17th

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

Yesterday evening was another cool one. I took this pic before we went for ice cream and to the grocery store, our big outings of the day:

 

After the grocery store, we drove up to the causeway that leads up to the Lake Champlain Islands and found ourselves halfway between a rainy night and a sunny evening:

 

I spent today on the dock, reading and eating and chilling out. David got in a swim:

 

And later in the day, the grandparents took the kiddo to get ice cream, so David and I sat on the dock, watched the yachts pull in, and enjoyed the quiet:

 

Knowing Vs. Doing

I see this gap all the time: “KNOWING” vs actually doing. To me, this gap is bigger than the knowledge gap we pretend education is all about. That all the information in the world is often useless if we don’t take action based on it. Have you ever worked a job where management talked about solutions, and talked, and talked, and talked… but nothing ever changed? So too are the lives of many writers.

So when I work with writers, it is all about action.

If you aren’t living the life of a writer, then you are merely an anthropologist, studying their habits from a distance. And that gap is huge. It’s the same gap between singing in front of a mirror into a hairbrush, vs getting on stage at a local club or cafe and actually singing to an audience.

Every day, I work with writers to help them get past their biggest challenges. I constantly get emails, or panicked messages with titles such as “STUCK,” with an explanation that the writer has hit a wall. They are working hard to find their audience, to engage with those who are ideal readers, to find time to write, to feel like any of this makes sense. And they get lost, or lose focus, or motivation.

The wall is rarely knowledge-based. I mean, sure, I teach courses, and in doing so, share LOTS of knowledge. Strategy, tips, resources, step-by-steps, etc. And that is why people think they sign up for them. But really, the value they get is this:

TAKING ACTION. WITH A BUDDY.

Huh? Let me explain. My friend, and a client, Miranda Beverly-Whittemore talked bout this recently: THE CURE FOR BUTTERFLIES? GET A BUDDY. In other words: everything feels better when you have a buddy with you along the way.

What we often need is someone to work with, someone to help us crack the code. Another writer recently wrote this to me: “I have to get out of my own way.” That is typically the biggest obstacle to success – not the barriers others put in front of us, not some critical piece of missing knowledge, not some “secret,” but rather, getting out of our own way.

This is what I help folks do. I help writers get out of their own way to find success.

Thanks!
-Dan

Same View, August 14th & 15th

This is part of the Bittersweet Book Launch case study, where Dan Blank and Miranda Beverly-Whittemore share the yearlong process of launching her novel. You can view all posts here.


by Miranda Beverly-Whittemore

The sky was foreboding last night before we went to pick up David at the train station.

 

We could feel a September breeze on the air and I wondered if it was already time to mourn summer.

 

But this morning when we awoke, it was sunny and bright again, a reprieve from autumn just yet. We weren’t the only ones who were happy: