I’m still getting used to the idea that I’m an author. It really struck me when I attended my first book club discussion group for my novel, Losing Control, with a group of ladies I’d never met before.
I was scared to go alone, so I asked my book marketer, Raven, to go with me. Neither one of us knew what to expect, so we did the only professional thing we knew to do. We brought a snack to share, and we arrived on time. We were the first ones there and the hostess, Sheres, offered me a glass of wine, which I happily accepted. I sat down at the kitchen island to chat with the only other guest there, Pam, and soon I remembered why I love being a part of book clubs – wine, food, and carefree conversation. Eventually, others began showing up, and an hour later we were ready to get started with the whole point of why we were there.
About sixteen women gathered on couches, love seats, and folding chairs with glasses of wine and plates of food. One woman called in on Facetime, and she was propped up facing me on a cellphone stand on the living room table. The nervous jitters returned when Sheres said they would start with a rating of the book from 1-10, with 1 being the worst and 10 being the best. I told myself I would smile no matter what they said. There was no turning back now, anyway.
The first two women gave me a 7 because they said they were frustrated with the ending. I giggled to myself, because the whole point of the ending was to shock the reader and leave them with questions. In the end, I received mostly 8s and one 10. I was happy with the ratings of my first novel, and I stopped holding my breath (which I didn’t realize I was holding until I couldn’t breathe). I wondered if all authors went through this – this weird feeling of being naked and nervously holding your breath while strangers critiqued your nude body parts.
Anyone who is a part of a book club knows that there are always a few people who don’t read the book, and this was no exception. About five guests hadn’t read my book, so the ones who did gave a blow-by-blow (no pun intended) account of the novel. I turned to Raven and whispered, “Oh my God, we’ll be here for hours if they break down the entire book!” And sure enough, we spent more than an hour with different people detailing each chapter of the book.
I can’t explain the out-of-body experience I had listening to women talk about my characters and plot lines as though they were real. It was fascinating and surreal. At one point, two women started to argue about what “they” meant when “they” wrote this. The argument heated up, and finally someone pointed to me and said, “The author’s right there! Just ask her.” Oh yeah, I’m “they.” I’m the author!
There were a few times when I had to defend why I had a character do what he or she did. And another time when I had to clarify what was hinted at but not in-your-face clear. One of the highlights of the night was when the ladies began a debate about whether the various Losing Control scenarios could or do happen in real life. The side discussions were PRICELESS! My favorite question of the night was – #TeamRey or #TeamJonathan?
Four-and-a-half hours later, it was over. I signed a few books, took a group picture, and hugged my new girlfriends goodbye. Raven and I had made it through the first of many Losing Control book club parties. Since then, I’ve done a reading of the shower scene from chapter one (a hilarious situation for another blog), book signings, and a variety of book club discussions, including a coed group. They’re all unique and special experiences, but I’ll never forget my first.
