Writer's Life: Day 3,439

I’ve always had this idea in my mind - even though I have been doing this crap for fifteen years - that proper writing meant an artist with a vision, sitting (or standing) at their desk, crafting a novel, delivering it and then moving on to the next one. That the publisher then took care of everything else.

There was no way those fabulous writers from the ‘lost generation’ were getting bogged down with promoting themselves. Hemingway and Fitzgerald were geniuses who would shit literary gold and that was that. So why the hell have I spent my morning recording something for Spotify to publicise the audiobook of BAD INFLUENCE? - my new book, available 18th June. (Feel free to pre-order.)

Well, it turns out, that’s the way it is and, seemingly, that is the way it has always been.

Hemingway selfies. #Yolo

Fitzgerald wrote short stories for Scribner’s and Esquire, tailoring the content for those audiences. Why? Because they paid well and got him recognition. There are letters where he openly discusses pricing and marketability. The dude knew a little something about branding.

Hemingway was similar, though he courted publications like the Paris Review and Transatlantic Review, and he made sure he rubbed shoulders with the likes of Ezra Pound and Gertude Stein, who were influential editors in the Paris literary scene. Not to mention Maxwell Perkins, who edited some of the greatest literary talents of all time. (There is a book called Max Perkins: Editor of Genius, which is well worth reading. Or you could watch the movie Genius, starring Colin Firth as Perkins, which is okay.)

He also carefully cultivated an image for himself. He was a war veteran, a fisherman, a boxer. He was into bullfighting and hard drinking. Where Fitzgerald was clean-cut, Hemingway was raw masculinity.

Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald were like the Beckhams of their day. Newspapers would cover their lavish parties and sometimes volatile but passionate relationship.

It all helped sell books.

Well, that’s what I’m telling myself because I am entering that part of the year where I have to do promotional things for my upcoming publication.

This morning, day 3,439 of being a published writer, I waited until nobody was at home and set up a video shoot. The instructions said that I should remain natural and not like I am trying to sell something, nothing too scripted. Below these instructions was the exact script I had to follow. (I changed a couple of bits because I couldn’t say that my own book was ‘razor sharp’, I’d sound like a dick.)

I dropped a couple of c-bombs but got it right on the fifth go.

Not bad.

It went slightly better than the other video I had to record for my publisher where I had to pause while nobody was asking me quick-fire questions and then give my answers. I’m sure it will all be edited together seamlessly.

And here is the worst part, BAD INFLUENCE is a book that pokes fun at social media influencing and reality television; it’s one of my favourite topics, as those who have read any of my other books will know. This means that a great way to publicise this book is through social media content. And there are a lot of video ideas that I am expected to film that draw on Tik-Tok trends that I know nothing about and will make my children cringe if they see them.

But, I will do them. (Reluctantly.) So, if you see any of these videos, feel free to give them a thumbs-up and know that I am dying inside while telling myself, ‘If its good enough for Hemingway…’

I’ve just hit the halfway point on the book I am writing, provisionally titled THE BORROWED PATH. I like it. But, now that I have arrived at this midpoint twist and I’ve built this world to set the story in, I’m wondering whether I can say the first 40,000 words in 1,000 words and start the story at this point.

Fun, huh?

My plan is to get to the end, as I have planned, and then maybe change the structure if this slow-burn approach isn’t cutting it. (I’m trying something different.)

Oh, and I’ve been shortlisted for an award……

All of the bios on my social media accounts say the same thing: Award-losing writer, drinker, and non-preachy vegan. I thought it was kind of funny but it became a bit of a ‘thing’ when I was recording the Let’s Get Lit podcast with SJ Watson.

I love this category because none of the other festivals have an award like this. I also love it because it really suits what I do and the things that I write.

The list is curated by a board but the winner is picked by readers. Which is great, but also the thing that kinda sucks for me because I don’t have as many of those as some of the writers I am up against.

The first time I was up for this - it was called something different back then - was for GOOD SAMARITANS, but I was up against Will Dean, who I knew would win because, not only does he write well and has many more readers than I do, he has done a Hemingway and cultivated this Man-in-the-woods persona. What’s my brand? Drunk vegan? It’s not the same. (Just to clarify, I’m certainly not coming down on Will Dean. I know him. I like him and I’ve read most of his books. He gets stuff right.)

The second time I was up for this was for SUICIDE THURSDAY. Erin Kelly won it that year. She doesn’t live in a hole in the ground with a hundred cats or anything. She’s not a big game hunter or an MMA fighter. As far as I can tell she just writes good books. (The Poison Tree is one of the best debuts of the last fifteen years in this genre, in my opinion.) But she does sell a lot of books and, therefore, got a lot of votes.

These people can’t help being successful, and most writers really can’t help being more successful than me, so I go along knowing that I am not going to win and my silly social media bio can remain in tact, and I’m grateful for the little bit of publicity it gets before my newest book is published. (It’s actually published on the day of the awards ceremony. Bittersweet.)

I have my theories for this year’s winner but if you wanted to vote for me (or any of the other categories - The Midnight King is Great, as is anything by Sarah Pinborough) then you can do that here: VOTE

The only thing left is to sort out a launch party. This will happen, as it has for the last few years, at Fourbears Books. I’m not a fan of launches, as I have mentioned, it feels like one-too-many pats on the back, but this is my tenth book with Orenda and we should really have a bit of a knees-up with an egg-and-dairy-free cake. (See how I’m leaning into the drunk vegan brand?) Book HERE. (It’s free.)

In some of my paid posts, I have given advice to aspiring writers by showing them what I do and telling them to ignore it. So, here are the things I should be doing to promote myself and here are the things I am actually doing:

Cultivate a persona - I rely heavily on authenticity because the other option feels heavy to me. The problem is, it’s not interesting to be a non-preachy vegan who likes a bottle of wine. I would get more traction if I was more judgemental or confrontational to meat-eaters or shouted my mouth off when I’ve had a drink. But who has the energy for that?

Network constantly - I can’t. It feels insincere. Networking is also a little too people-y.

Remain visible - Or shut down your Twitter account and don’t tell anyone that you’re on Substack or have a podcast. Also, writing a novel is, and should be, a fairly invisible job.

Create controversy or mystique - I think cliffhangers are…

Publish consistently - Wait. I do this one. I don’t think a book a year is enough, in fact. Unless this means on social media, in which case, fuck.

Turn lifestyle into marketing - I post pictures of the books I read and the whisky I drink. What more do you want?

Anyway, I need to head off, learn a couple of dances, sleep in a tree, send a text to that writer I don’t get on with, and film a video that mimics the TikTok ‘Put a finger down’ trend. Whatever the hell that is.

Maybe I’ll wear my Meat is Murder t-shirt.