The filming - by Annie Try

     Do you like promoting your books, or yourself as an author? I find it hard, preferring to squirrel myself away somewhere and start yet another W-i-P, or even do some ironing. Anything rather than shouting ‘I am an author - read my book!’

On Friday last week I had a spot of filming to do. No, that’s not clear. I was filmed along with my editor Amy Scott Robinson as she interviewed me about my latest book, The Dangerous Dance of Emma JJ.

I have filmed myself doing little talks for church services during Covid, so I thought it was manageble to just talk about the book, almost as if it had been written by someone else. (I did wonder about talking about myself in the third person, but as the whole idea was to sell books I thought that might be counterproductive.) So after a fair bit of positive self-talk, re-reading my own book and rehearsing what I might say, I was prepared. 

But what about the journey beforehand? This concerned me. Rightly, as it happened. My SatNav refused to recognise the postcode I’d been given, so it was back to using the map app on my phone. I had no way of fixing the mobile appropriately in the car, so I did something new to me, which was to listen to the route with no visual prompt.

I have an uncanny knack of getting lost, so was pretty sure I would be. The app told me the journey would take 58 minutes so I had allowed an hour and three-quarters. I didn’t get terribly lost - only the sort of lost where one circles a roundabout twice (or so). But I felt lost as the stern man in my phone guided me down narrow, then even narrower lanes. I had been travelling for nearly an hour and a half when I was relieved to be told I had reached my destination. I drew to a halt then tried to match my surroundings to the little map Amy had supplied for the approach to the building. At that point I realised I hadn’t reached my destination at all. I had stopped by a different farm from the one on the map.

I was still turning the little map upside down, then over to the side trying to work out where I was when a young woman came out of the farm to see why all the dogs were barking. I lent on the gate that told me ‘BEWARE OF THE DOGS’ and explained I was heading for Kevin Mayhew Publishers to which she replied ‘Never heard of them’ rather forcefully as if she didn’t believe me, which was not very useful. But I remembered part of the name of the farm near the publishers and all became clearer as she softened her approach and helped me sort out where I should be.

So, ignoring the stern voice in my mobile, I headed away from his repeated pleas to turn around and found the right track.

It was lovely after I arrived -  four of us went to the studio and after arranging some of my books on the shelves behind us, Amy and I climbed onto some rather high bar stools, Sam and Kevin began filming us. Amy had problems with her stool spinning round randomly and I forgot to say rather too many things I wanted to say, but couldn’t remember until long afterwards exactly what they were. But otherwise it went fairly smoothly. I even managed an extra very short, unexpected soundbite. 

Overall, it was a great morning. I enjoyed meeting some of the Kevin Mayhew team and talking about bookish things, and I was served coffee and gluten-free biscuits. I began to feel like a real author (does imposter syndrome ever go away?) Afterwards, I even found my way back home without too much trouble (apart from a slight hitch when calling in on my grandson and forgetting exactly where he lived).

So, to summarise, I feel quite smug that I have successfully completed some book promotion.

Although I haven’t seen the edited film yet - which is a bit nerve-racking. What if it’s all too bad to use? What if I put people off buying the book because I seem too muddly/old/vague/odd? Maybe I’ll tackle the ironing pile and try not to think about it.

Annie Try writes fiction with a touch of faith. As well as The Dangerous Dance of Emma JJ published by Kevin Mayhew, she has written three Dr Mike Lewis stories published by Instant Apostle.