Writing Was The Easy Part

Right about now, if I were Candace Bushnell, I’d be picking out my red carpet outfit for my celeb-filled book party thrown by my world renowned publisher, where I’d announce that my novel – sold in bookstores nationwide -- is being made into a feature film or television show or both.

But I’m me, a copywriter turned author. My debut novel “Fat Chick” has been published by a small, yet established press, and so far offered exclusively online at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.

May I someday know the glamour side of being a published author, with agents, managers, publicists and “handlers”. Until then, I will know the hard work side, which does not stop after the manuscript is written, as well as sold. Currently, I am blogging, emailing, posting, phoning, making a show of myself all over Facebook and, along with my publisher, sending out review copies in the hope of getting some juice for my “good read.”

Celebrities (such as “The Maverick”) get begged to be on talk shows and in glossy magazines to discuss their latest literary contributions. Those brought into the market place by large publishing houses have their publicity departments to help them spin. My “publicity department” is a woman at The Vineyard Press named Fran.

We of the small press – humble publishing beginnings if you will – have to get out and DIY. After 25 years as a New York City ad agency copywriter, I figured if I could promote the products of others, I could certainly do it for myself. Together, Fran and I are like the little engines that could.

Fat Chick – The Novel is a print on demand book, which means that as soon as the publisher signs off, it becomes available. The publisher had told me we were shooting for it to come out in September of 2009, but there were some mishaps and delays along the way and the date kept getting pushed back. Since we didn’t have a release date, advance press only led people to seem ambivalent. So we waited.

When the book first finally went up on Amazon in early December 2009, I was elated, yet immediately overwhelmed at how much there was to do. My excitement turned to panic. Before I could go full steam ahead, I first had to really psych myself up into a positive place.

I began by being grateful. With or without Bushnell-type fanfare, my book was published and out there for people to purchase. I thought back to a year ago when I, a 50-year-old New York freelance writer, was standing in my friend Diane’s kitchen during a small get together, haranguing to my other friend Ellen – and whoever else would listen -- that I didn’t know how, or if, my novel would ever get published. What a difference a year makes.

I then had to get my energy up with my attitude. I told myself that I couldn’t drop the ball now, not after all the work that had been put into the book thus far.

Starting back when I was about twenty-five, I talked about writing a book, mainly because all the senior copywriters I worked with at my ad agency were always working on their novels, just as the art directors were working on getting their gallery shows together.

But talking doesn’t make it happen and, quite frankly, I was more concerned with my copywriting career. I'd worked on staff at ad agencies all over New York for about 15 years. When my first child was born I went freelance. I felt very fortunate to be able to care for my baby, while I worked mostly from home. I did that for ten years and found it was a truly rewarding experience for me, until about five years ago, when my clients started keeping things in-house (theirs not mine).

In my mid-forties, I had to reinvent myself – yes, like Madonna.
I started writing essays for a local Manhattan newspaper, where I now write a bi-monthly column. I gained confidence when The New York Times bought my essays as well as The New York Post, and some magazines and websites.

With long form writing now a way a life for me, and my advertising job excuse no longer on the table, it was time to write my book -- and I finally knew about what. Over the years I had decided that having balance in my life really improved the quality of my whole life.

I would tell my story with a weight loss theme. I had always been a yo-yo dieter and finally decided once and for all that I was tired of either being overweight or so thin that if I turned sideways you wouldn't be able to see me. There had to be something in between. Perhaps if this balance could be achieved on the outside, it might also happen on the inside.

I had no interest in a memoir, albeit a popular, sellable genre. Quite frankly with people out there like Kirstie Alley, Valerie Bertinelli, Marie Osmond and Carnie Wilson telling their "I'm-fat-I'm-thin-I'm-fat-I'm-thin" stories, I didn't think a non-celeb could really compete. Also, that wasn't the story I wanted to tell. I wanted to talk about getting off the yo-yo and not settling at either end of the diet spectrum. I thought my point would be better made if I used my imagination.

I also wanted to write a book that didn't rely on the clichés usually found in women's fiction: blaming the fashion/magazine industry that so many blame for women's bad body images; having the male best friend be "the one" all along; having everything be perfect once the weight comes off.

The story is about a woman who tires of being the skinny waif as much as she did being the fat chick, and wants off the yo-yo in order to live life in the middle -- both physically and emotionally.

There is a subplot about the combative relationship the main character has with her mother. The result is not a fairy tale where everyone hugs it out and promises to change, but a more realistic story of forgiveness (which really takes weight off your shoulders, if no where else), accepting people as they are, then moving on.

Besides the main character, there are strong supporting female characters, who also prove inspirational: the de facto heroine of the story is a plus-size model. The main character's best friend has a very healthy view about body image ("Look, no one's ever gonna drool when I step on the beach. Page Six is never gonna care where I ate dinner last night, and..." she continued as she held up her arm and poked at the upper part making it jiggle, "...see, my Grandma Suki's body-snatched me, but I could give a shit. I have a man who loves me, a baby girl I cherish and a good job. To me, that's a model life.") And there's a young, anorexic woman who serves as a cautionary tale.

It took me two years to write the book. I got an agent right away, however, although I believe he tried his best, could not sell it after a year. He told me to, "put it aside and write something else." I didn’t feel slighted, because I had heard other writers say that they had been told the same thing by their agents. I guess it’s standard stuff.

I realized though, that I had written the book I wanted to write, parted ways with the agent, and made up my mind to sell it myself going to small presses, since big houses don't like to deal with authors directly and my former agent had already approached them.
Because I stayed true to my motto: “Let the other guy give up,” I got my deal in May 2009.

I had done all this, not to have an excuse for a party, but because I had a tale to tell.

The people who know this dieting routine all too well, however, could only have the story touch them, if they knew about it; hence began my media blitz.

First off, I sat down and wrote individual letters and send copies of the book to those from whom I hoped to get a review (preferably favorable) including Oprah (yes, I know, good luck.) When I call to follow up, I hear things like, “There are two hundred books piled in my office,” or “No I haven’t read it yet.” It gets a little disheartening knowing I am now competing to get attention for my book the same way I competed with other writers for a contract. To keep going, I once again envision myself in Diane’s kitchen a year ago, and remind myself I’d rather be competing for space in the book review columns.

When, if, my book gets some positive reviews, my plan is to use them as leverage with bookstores to get book readings/signings happening. Perhaps even the public library will buy copies, which would make for a nice boost in sales.

Clearly, there’s still lots to do. Regardless, writers write, so I’ve made sure not to let lapse my “write for at least an hour a day” rule. Despite the excitement/anxiety/hubbub of the past few months, I now have the first draft of a second novel. If publishing lightening should strike me twice and book 2 ever gets published as well, I’ll throw the book party myself.