In the northern reaches of Tanzania's Serengeti National Park I waited for the perfect picture.
A gorgeous leopard draped itself across a tree branch about 15 feet from our jeep. I should have been grateful just
to see it. With another week of Safari left to go, this sighting was the last of the "Big Five" animals most sought
after by visitors to Africa: cape buffalo, elephant, lion, rhinoceros, and leopard. Instead, I agonized over my
inability to take a clear photo of the leopard's profiled face, the coloring of which blended flawlessly with the
branch it rested on.
I waited and held my breath - the back of my 35 mm camera pressed against my nose, my left hand cradling the weight
of the telephoto lens, and the index finger of my right hand poised above the shutter release button. The leopard never
turned its face toward the jeep. As I peered through the narrowness of the camera lens, the leopard stood up on the
branch it had reclined on a moment before, and crept into a thicket of leaves, taking with it my opportunity for a
perfect picture.
As I lowered the Canon AE-1 from my face, I felt cheated. Not only had I missed my shot but I'd also missed the
experience of appreciating this magnificent animal in its natural surroundings. I was so busy focusing on a souvenir
for the future that I was left empty-handed in the moment. This out-of-body-experience felt familiar, a prickly
reminder of missed joys in my persistent attempts to harness tomorrows.
I saw three more leopards before leaving Africa, elusive though they are. As many as a dozen jeeps roared to each
sighting, awash in a frenzy of clacking shutters and whirring batteries. Each time, I left my Canon on the seat. With
my chin resting on my folded arms inside the jeep's window frame, I observed each leopard.
And didn't hold my breath.
In February, The Lesson of the Paper Clips made it into nearly 200,000 Connecticut homes via the weekly cable
television program The Book Authority. Produced since 1994, this weekly program helps viewers learn about the
publishing industry and improve their writing and marketing skills. The 30-minute program was a lively one-on-one
interview with me about lessons learned from publishing my first book.
In the previous installment, Gina began experiencing a phenomenon she read about prior
to publishing her first book: Writing and publishing are the easy parts. Marketing? That's a different story. In this
episode, Gina returns from Africa and tries to find the physical, emotional, and logistical balance to stay the
creative course.
I'm not sorry I went to Africa. I only wish I hadn't traveled to Africa exhausted. Fifteen days in the bush, five
national parks, and moving every two days to different camps and lodges only compounded the hectic schedule I'd
maintained leading right up until I left the United States. I am a woman of extremes, best equipped to find life's
middle ground only after the pendulum of experience has swung as far as it will go in either direction. So, upon my
return from Kenya and Tanzania, I completely gave in to my mind and body and spent the next two days in bed.
That wasn't working, either.
For one, it was time to get up and go to my day job. Second, my offset printer was waiting for my signature on the
proofs for The Lesson of the Paper Clips. Every two days they sent me friendly, automated e-mails about the
status of the print job I initiated in November 2005. The thought of making a detailed review of every aspect of my
book's dust jacket, foil stamping on the hard cover, and the interior pages, and facing the logistics for receiving
delivery of 3,000 books overwhelmed me. I'd barely had enough energy for re-entry into the United States. I had none at
all for a book marketing campaign.
However, as long as I put off finalizing my print run, I couldn't execute on a key component of my distribution
plan: the targeted bulk sale.
How do I market my first book while writing my second one, working 40 hours a week, freelancing, and still have a
social life without completely draining again? The answer: continually remind myself that forward movement is as valid
a measure of progress as rapid movement, and act accordingly. And this above all else: to thine own self be fun.
I ask myself a question a friend always asks me when I sound burdened rather than energized by an endeavor - "What
if it were fun?"
The answer - marketing my book is fun when:
- I'm rested.
- It happens organically.
- I allow it to surprise me with new information and opportunities.
- It originates from the heart rather than the mind.
- I flow with events rather than try to force them.
- I take a break from it and then return with fresh eyes and spirit.
I had a ball writing and publishing The Lesson of the Paper Clips. My new challenge is to carry that same
giddy excitement through to the marketing and distribution phase of my publishing adventure. One of the best things
about being an independent author is I'm not confined to the three-month window trade publishers grant authors to turn
a profit on an initial book run. I have the rest of my life to market The Lesson of the Paper Clips. I might as
well have fun doing it.
In the next episode, Gina's energy returns and she learns how to put the fun back into
marketing.
Cheryl from Simi Valley, California writes: "I am currently working on a 1,000 piece M-M (jigsaw) puzzle. When I am
up against an obstacle that I can't fix, I work on my puzzle. It causes me to be diligent and patient. It makes me stop
and focus on that one piece, that one variation of color or hint of light that will bring me closer to my goal. Step by
step, one piece at a time, I gain the confidence that I need to move forward and celebrate the joy along the way."
Tell me about your Symbol Life. How have your own metaphors for living shaped you? What leaps have you taken? I'd
love to hear about them.
Thanks for taking time to read my newsletter. I'll be writing to you again in April.
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