There was a movie I saw years ago about kids learning to play instruments with the Suzuki method. At one point, a little boy, he was eight or nine years old, said to the film maker, “You just have to accept the fact that you’re going to sound lousy for a while, before you become good.” Then he played an incredible piece with extraordinary panache. I think about that film clip from time to time. When one has an aptitude for responding quickly and picking things up, the harsh reality of a limited skill set can feel overwhelming.
That was certainly my experience with the subjunctive tense when learning French. It was also the case when grappling with the concept of layers in CAD (computer assisted design), and it’s been true with the rule of “Don’t put it down, put it away.” This is in addition to an infinite number of details that are a part of our everyday lives.
“You do a thousand things, none of them well.” An employer once told me. His comment still echoes more than twenty years later. Not because it was hurtful, but because it was true. Yet, as a person who does do a thousand different things, I can assure you, dear reader, that only part of it is true.
So far, this year of the Dragon, has brought its share of challenges. Egregious billing accompanied by inexplicable goobledy-gop from web hosting services amidst the daunting climb of making a mark and selling my books. Both the relationship with tech and selling one’s work feels like the part of learning an instrument when one still sounds lousy. But it is the year of the Dragon and that is what I am.
In this episode of Angry Dead Women, I start a face book group and learn how to conduct myself when a social media book tour is happening.
And get this, while those things are occurring on-camera, believe me when I say, that off-camera I am taking my relationship with tech by the horns whereupon I will wrestle it to the ground, until I am satisfied that I understand how the heck it works.
Meanwhile, book marketing does require some courage. To that end, last week, Jaime Kinyon held my hand as I strode into bookstores hoping to peddle my wares. At the first shop, the manager was on a zoom call and not available. At the second I garbled my words, then hightailed it out of there before the manager could respond. Afterwards, driving to Princeton, dear Jaime gently coached me on what to say in an effort to prevent my fainting or hyperventilating at our last stop. Just before we went in the store, I said, “You should speak.” Then I hid in the stacks only to emerge at the cash register whereupon I bought more books than I could hold.
So both of these tasks, tech and marketing have yet to be mastered. But by the close of this calendar year, dear reader, I tell you, the mastery will be done. Perhaps not well, but most certainly, it will be done with panache.