In which celebrating the fifth anniversary of a book is mostly a distraction because *gestures to everything*
I like to think that I would have done this under normal circumstances, but the truth is that I would have probably just bought myself a cupcake and called it a day.
In 2015, my life changed forever. I mean, technically it happened in 2014, because that's when the first cheque cleared, but it's nicer to tie it to the book, I think. Anyway. My novel A THOUSAND NIGHTS was published with this absolutely glorious cover, and I took myself out for a drive.
I had never been on book tour before. I'd had a few events, but I wanted an ADVENTURE, and I could AFFORD IT, so I packed up my car and went to Chicago. And then St. Paul. And then Iowa City. And then Denver. And then Salt Lake City. And then Omaha. And then Kansas City. And then Pigeon Forge. And then Charleston. And, finally, Columbus. Did I sell a lot of books? I don't think so. But I learned all the words to Hamilton and met a few dozen friends IRL for the first time and saw bookstores and libraries and kids and the US Rockies, and that was pretty cool.
I never imagined I'd be here.
That trip reminded me that I could travel. I had loved it, as a kid and a student, but then I didn't have any money and, more critically, I had a spinal injury that mostly meant I spent all my time lying flat on my bed. My NIGHTS tour got me started again. I could go and do things, and, a couple times a year, that's exactly what I did. I drove to Newfoundland. I went back to Scotland and Australia and New Zealand. I explored Iceland and the Faroe Islands and Norway.
Publishing A THOUSAND NIGHTS gave me space to recover from my injury, time to commit to writing, and the financial stability to become a professional author full time. And I kind of thought that I would be able to keep traveling, even if it was only to see friends (which: make friends who live everywhere. you'll miss them, but you get to go SEE them, and that's cool too). And then the pandemic happened.
In a lot of ways, I was very lucky. I lived by myself in Canada, and my local stores reacted immediately, shifting to curbside pickup for anything I could possibly require. I launched three paperbacks, which let me practice for the launch of Queen's Peril. Queen's Peril was a Star Wars book, so I knew my readers would find it, even if bookstores were closed.
And still, I went steeply into a depressive spiral that lasted most of the summer. Depression lies, so I told myself that it wasn't THAT bad. That I actually had it pretty good. That I definitely shouldn't tell anyone how wretched my life was, because it would make me look selfish. It went about as well as you're imagining.
As fall proceeded and the darkness (literal and otherwise) got closer once again, I found myself reaching for...anything. I had cancelled most of my book events for PERIL (twice: once for the pandemic and then again because no one felt like celebrating that week), and I was desperately missing...literally everyone. I turned to Instagram, to Old Firehouse Books, to anyone I thought might chat with me for an hour and make me feel less alone. And people kept saying yes.
And it helped. It helps me to have a plan. To have a schedule. To feel like I'm doing something. To have a reason to do my hair and pick out a nice scarf once a week. My coping mechanism in the spring was baking, but now it's baking and self-promotion, which is kind of insane, but I'm leaning into it. It's important to do what you can (and it makes my parents happy. Pocket friends, you make my parents so happy.)
So I'm on Instagram every Friday this month, talking about the book that saved me, and now it's saved me twice. Let's not make this a once-ever-five-years thing. I don't think I can deal with it. You can find the stories on my IGTV once the liveshows are over. Like that tour five years ago, I don't think I'm going to sell a lot of books, but I am going to make connections, and that is enough for now. I hope it helps you, even if it's just 30 minutes of thinking about something else.
(If you buy a copy of NIGHTS at an Indie bookstore or through bookshop.org, you can email the receipt to ekjgiveaways@gmail.com and I will send you a handmade, signed and personalized bookplate, which you can stick in the front of your book, and it will be ALMOST not entirely unlike meeting at a con. It has to be the hardcover due to Shenanigans, but it's very pretty, and if you buy another book of mine, I'll send you plates for as many as you buy. US/Canada only, ends Oct 31, 2020.)
Books don't always stick around. I'm so, so glad that A Thousand Nights has. That it's five years later, and you can still buy it. Sometimes, it's even on shelves. That's never a guarantee. Thank you for reading about that girl, who fights because the alternative is not fighting. Thank you for desert nights and sand-blasted days. Thank you for embroidery threads and the careful art of henna, inking hands. Thank you for the love of her sister, for the determination of her mothers, for the humility of her father.
Thank you for finding your own name for the girl who fought the monster and saved the king. She's yours now, and you keep giving her back to me. Even five years on.