I read my old diary from July 2001 this morning. It had a working title for the novel I hoped to write one day. (Hey I did it! Please download India’s Summer right now. Just press that little Amazon BUY button, you won’t regret it and even if you do it’s only the price of a Starbucks’ coffee.) Anyway, back to the diary…
Diary of A Madwoman – How one Crazed Mother Moved her Husband and Two Teenagers From A Sleepy English Village to Gilt-edged Beverly Hills – an alcohol-fueled account of one woman’s attempt to reinvent herself.
I wrote long hand in those pre-laptop, pre-iPhone, pre-Mac days. How much has changed since we arrived eleven years ago this week.
My book India’s Summer (endorsed by Hollywood celebrities and a rattling good read) has been published at a time when social networking has taken over the planet. Amazon rules book sales and everyone has become stars in their own reality show. To make yourself heard over the fray, you need to shout loudly; become a brand, launch your website, Facebook, Tweet, Blog and tell the world how unique, witty, intelligent, kind, generous and spiritual you are. You have to create a platform for yourself.
I am not known for my shy/retiring persona (gross under-statement see previous posts). Even so, I balk at blatant self–promotion. This is not serving me well. Culturally I’ve been trained from an early age to deflect compliments, apologize, make light of my accomplishments.
“Yes.” I will say. “I DO have a title but I’m not a real Lady.” (Why do I say this when I got the title from the Queen?)
“Yes. I’ve written a book. It’s not really literature, it’s a good beach read though…” (Why do I say this when it took me a lifetime to write it and I know it’s better than that?) It’s a great couch read too and perfect for a long haul flight. Go on. Go wild. Press that Amazon BUY button.
Americans learn to rattle off their resumes in any situation. I struggle with that. I don’t want to turn into the person who uses every social occasion to promote my online profile. I don’t want to alter my relationship with my friends by asking for contacts. It makes me uncomfortable. I hint. That’s what I do. I hint. (Go on. You know you’ll feel better if you press that Amazon BUY button.)