A Chaos Author’s Guide to Surviving Events

A Chaos Author’s Guide to Surviving Events

At the beginning of the year, I made the decision that 2024 was a no-events year for me. They’re exhausting, and a cocktail of endorphins, humiliation, and ego-stroking only creatives can understand. I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion among writers about cons and festivals. I will explain further in this guide that no one asked for, but I kept thinking about after attending NYCC (Which was incredible, more at the end). I used to show up at cons and festivals and not know what to do, but over the last 12 years or so, I’ve learned how to maximize my time before and after events. So, here goes.

FIRST OF ALL, HOW DO I GET INVITED TO AN EVENT?

As blobs of sentient matter, we have been programmed to anticipate invitations. There are the dreaded birthday parties at school, prom, weddings, someone’s dog birthday party, corporate parties. But an author waiting for an invitation to a convention or festival or bookstore, is a special kind of hell no one can prepare you for. For me, events have been the only way to get face time with readers and colleagues. I love the energy and love and creativity that readers give their writers. When I did the event circuit more often pre-pandemic, I could count on seeing certain writer friends at the same places, and certain readers. I’ve also attended events as a reader, without being invited as a professional, and still had an amazing time

Keeping in mind that this is a single experience, here are some scenarios: 

It’s 2011. I’ve just sold my book and somehow (probably through twitter) found my way to a debut group. Here, other authors who are in my same newbie situation can navigate the new, shiny, world of publishing. My book isn’t out until June 2012, so it isn’t my time to do events yet because there’s nothing to sell (yet)! I still go to local book events and introduce myself to booksellers. The very first time I did this, the bookseller told me I could not do an event at her store, because my book wasn’t coming out in hardcover. Rude! But I kept attending events, this time at OTHER bookstores, who were much friendlier. Attending local events for fellow authors, especially in your genre, is a great way to support the community. 

I also attended conferences on my own dime. Some, like RTCon (The Romantic Times Convention) was how I met 75% of the writer friends I still have now. I was not a “guest author” of the con, also I wouldn’t have had books to sell yet, but I loved my time there. 

It’s 2016. I have a YA trilogy and an adult trilogy under my belt. I have my 7^th novel coming out. This time, my publisher decided to send me to three industry conferences (that I can remember). The American Booksellers Association, the American Library Association, and Book Expo America. The publicist also pitches me to some festivals for after my book is out. What is the difference? 

A tangent…

Signing conventions like RT (rip), all the Comic Cons, Book Bonanza, ApollyCon, SteamyLit, RARE, etc. etc—These are fan conventions. Writers go as talent. Here you have hundreds of authors all at once, thousands of participants, with craft and general panels. Some conferences accept applications. Some, the programmers have writers on their radars, and send them invitations through their agents or publishers (or directly!). Unless your publisher is footing the bill, this is coming out of your own pocket. For instance: Book Bonanza in 2023 cost me about $3000 to attend between hotel, flight, the con fees, shipping, ordering my own books, swag.

Book Signings can be solo events, panels, but usually organized at a bookstore. How do you get a book signing? You, the author, introduce yourself to the events person at your indie. Sometimes a bookstore is so small they don’t have one, but the managers and staff do double duty. If the idea of cold introductions makes you break out in hives, have your agent do it. Or, if you have a publicist and marketing team, ask if they can set something up. I’ve had signings where a single person attended, plus the nice booksellers who sat down just to have bodies in the audience. I’ve had events with 100 people. These numbers fluctuate and are not an indicator of your self worth. There will be other events, I promise. But whether you’re speaking to 1 person or 100, give it the same energy. 

Industry conventions like the American Book Sellers and Librarians associations, respectively, are places where the publishers take the lead. They’re showcases of catalogs. (Forgive me if I don’t know how this functions on the Indie side.) Here, publishers have chosen a set of books to represent their publishing season. It’s like a coming out party for your novel, sometimes there are hors d'oeuvres. Authors dazzle, or panic, or dazzlingly panic through meet and greets, anxiety-inducing teas, and sign ARCs. 

Book festivals are community or city centered. The LA Times, Tucson, Brooklyn, Miami Book Fair…these tend to have the backing of schools and universities, or funding from the cities themselves. These are also perfect if you’re a local author and can attend.

Tangent over….

It's 2017. I was invited to keynote SirenCon, a feminist SFF convention. Here, the festival covers travel, food, and a speaking stipend. I was honored and surprised at the invitation and accepted right away. I can’t say there’s anything I “did” to get invited as a speaker here. But the more books you publish, the more you do to connect within your genre community, the more organizers can get to know your books and keep you in mind for events. 

HOW DO I BEHAVE AT EVENTS? 

While I’ve had grand ol’ times getting tipsy at the author functions, I’m so glad there wasn’t much of an Instagram presence at these events. And again, none of this might work for you, but I keep to these basics: 

• Be patient. Everyone is having a crisis. Books might not arrive on time, a speaker’s flight is delayed, the hotel has run out of ketchup on day one, someone’s reservation is missing, someone got dumped. We walk around carrying our own invisible little worlds, and we want others to be patient with us, so return that. 

• Introduce yourself. I never expect anyone to know my name, let alone pronounce it. So, when you meet someone, say your name. A simple, “hi I’m XYZ” helps. Even to refresh someone’s memory. Plus, It’s really presumptive to assume anyone knows your name. Or, if you perhaps have a popular name, say your last name because otherwise I have to text someone I know all like “who dat?” 

• Research. If you’re on a panel, google your panelists! If you can, read their books. I know when I’ve had several panels, it becomes hard to read 15 books before a conference, but I try to familiarize myself with what these books are about and who I’m sharing space and community with. 

• Greet your panelists. This feels like an obvious thing, but I’ve been in situations where I go to say hi to everyone, but one author doesn’t say hi to anyone. Part of me was ready to be dismissive and annoyed, but then he said hi at the end and said he was nervous. So being patient came in handy.   

Leave your ego at home. I do think there’s part of being a creative that simply comes with a dash of narcissism. The idea that we are willing to put our word spaghetti out there for strangers to love and hate and mock and love some more, requires even a flash of confidence. Embrace it. You’ve got the goods! So, what do I mean when I say “leave your ego at home”? I mean this isn’t about you. Unless the conference or event has your name on it—don’t worry, I’m not planning ZoCoCon anytime soon—you’re there as part of a community.

This word gets tossed around a lot, but even within the large BOOK COMMUNITY there are small subsets. This happens when you find your people. Friends you can walk around a festival with or attend panels to support others. They are a sounding board.

What happens when you don’t leave your ego at home? Idk, but I think you set yourself up to have a rotten time, if not in the moment, then down the line.

A caveat…

Look, it’s hard to know how a festival or event or conference or convention will turn out. The best you can do is be prepared, have back-up plans, and go with the flow. The only thing you can and should control is your own attitude and presence there.

I’ve had colleagues get mad at me for not going to their festival panels because I chose to go to a coffee shop and write during my break. I’ve reached out to authors to connect who never wrote back or simply had no interest in an author friendship. I’ve had book signings at conventions where I sold literally 6 books in 4 hours and felt utterly humiliated because other authors were selling hundreds. I’ve missed panels because I did not write my schedule down correctly, so this one is truly my bad.

It is not my job to balance everything that goes wrong at a professional event, or other people’s behaviors towards me. But when I walk into an event, I know I’m there to present my author self, to meet readers and fellow writers, have a good time plus a dirty martini, and go home. I have learned patience over the years. There are situations that call for rage, but that’s a different newsletter.

These are all cautionary tales. You will figure out what works best for you when navigating this landscape.

BUT, WHAT HAPPENS IF I DON’T GET INVITED TO A FUN THING?!

For a long time, I didn’t know how to get to attend one of these. I would see other writers go and wonder why not me?! You might ask yourself, why didn’t my publisher choose my book? Why didn’t this festival accept my application? 

There are many factors. 

• Maybe your book wasn’t out this season, and you should remind your publisher of the events you’re open to attending. 

• Maybe there aren’t arcs out in time for the event. 

• Maybe it just didn’t happen.

Let’s say….if you really, truly dream of going to the LA Times Book Festival, tell your team. Your agent and editor are your messengers. You should feel comfortable and safe communicating that with them, because no one can read your mind. When I did this, the publisher team said they would be happy to pitch me, but there was no budget to send me. I weighed my options, and ultimately decided against going, but told them to keep me in mind when something changed. 

I’ve had years where my publicist pitches me, but I don’t get selected by the event coordinators. I’ll try again next time. I’ve also been invited to romance signing festivals, and I knew I was only getting an invitation because there was public outcry that the authors of color were less than 10% of attending authors. I still went, had a jolly good time, though I was not invited back for 2024, which I honestly did not think twice about since it’s not in my yearly budget this time. 

When I see that programming already has badass BIPOC women on deck, I don’t go “why not me?” I go, “YASSSS” for them. There is no room in my life to envy what another author has. (This is different than calling out publishing for lack of inclusion and equity). I’ve seen too many authors eaten up by their own ego and narcissism that I wonder how they can enjoy the very thing they’ve worked so hard for. I’ve seen people depressed over the lack of invites to Coveted Festival ™.

Don’t let a lack of invitation harden you or make you bitter. It doesn’t service your craft. I hate the advice that you need thick skin to navigate the world. Even if you need thick skin for armor, keep your heart open.  

OTHER PRACTICAL THINGS

This has gone way longer than I intended. As I was enjoying my NYCC, I keep thinking how glad I was that I knew my way around the Javits. There have been times when I don’t know where I’m going. Some festivals include a town map, and while the Javits is as big as some towns, the maps don’t always help. So… 

• Give yourself half an hour longer than you think you’ll need. Whether it’s getting dressed or getting a cab. 

• Screenshot or write down important numbers: publicist, helper of the day, event staff. I was almost late to a signing but I called and texted to let them know I was ON MY WAY. 

• Bring a convention kit—mints, hand sanitizer (germs!), LOTION, pills for nausea, band-aids, (I always carry an extra tampon because someone is going to ask for one, and it might be your uterus surprising you), and deodorant. I forgot mine and had to buy it on the show floor. I have always either used, or gifted something from my con-kit. 

• Have a snack in your bag. I don’t care if it’s candy or protein, but every day this week I forgot my own rule. I forgot to eat lunch and felt dizzy and dehydrated by 3PM. Shout out to Macmillan who had croissants at their booth which I scarfed down like the gremlin I am. 

• Comfort cute is your friend. I know. MORE FASHION. MORE FASHION. But signing and standing and running around required sturdy shoes and clothes. Whatever you feel good in is the way to go. 

• Thank the people who work with you. Your publisher is not your employee, nor are you theirs. They are your partners, so thank the people who run your lines. 

• Thank the convention and festival staff. Often, especially at local festivals, people are volunteers. They need as much patience as you do. 

I hope this is helpful. But most of all, have the best fucking time. 

Love, 

Zoraida