Decide to be extraordinary -Epictetus
I purpose to be an extraordinary presenter. That doesn’t mean perfection; but it does mean I give my best to every reader, bookseller and volunteer I meet.
The speaker’s circuit isn’t an easy one. It involves tailoring your speech for the audience, travel, selecting the right wardrobe, making sure your hair looks just so (more on that later); and – most important- taking care of your voice before a presentation, which means no bread or starch, and only water (lots of water) before taking your place behind the microphone.
I am grateful to the RoseGlen Literary Festival staff for retaining me as keynote speaker in 2022 when the pandemic canceled last year’s event. This wasn’t my first keynote event; and fortunately, my calendar is filling for the rest of the year. Like every other author on the speaking circuit, all events for the past two years cancelled. Authors have “struggled mightily” as my friend is wont to say.
Saturday morning dawns and I am excited. I can’t wait to meet readers. You’ve heard me say many times, Readers are everything. I say it because I believe it. With that in mind, please follow me to Rose Glen. If you’re a regular subscriber to my blog, you’ve heard me talk about this festival many times. I’ve volunteered for 8 years because I believe in literacy and the power of the written word. Illiteracy rates are climbing and now, more than ever, we need make time to read, give books as gifts, share stories with others.
Be the person who carries a book with you into the waiting room. Let people catch you reading. We need to plant the literacy seed in everyone we meet.
The morning began in preparation. I had packed multiple dresses and two pairs of shoes because experience taught me long ago one should be prepared. In the shower, while conditioning my hair I noticed a fragrance that was decidedly minty fresh. Imagine my shock to learn the maroon tube of conditioner was actually toothpaste!
Frantic, I re-lathered, rinsed, and towel dried my hair then quickly realized my hair would be a frizzy mess unless I could dig up something from the bathroom closet in my father-in-law’s home.
I found this, a bottle of Dep. Now, the ladies in my novel, Outbound Train, are familiar with the magical hair product Dippity-do, a gel one uses to style (and hold) your hair for eternity.
Readers, let me tell you, this DEP hair product was a lifesaver. I joked from the stage that my hair will not move again until the mid-term elections. I believe my words may ring true.
Entering the doors of the conference readers find authors offering a variety of simultaneous workshops. Poets, naturalists, mystery writers, romance writers, sci-fi and historians form panels that offer something for everyone.
Entering the room to deliver a speech never gets old. There is a magic waiting, and for this particular conference, the room looked like an image from a fairytale. What then should a keynote discuss?
What more does this conference need? In a word, it is perfect. Photo Credit: Renea Winchester
Mr. McMahan asked that I share stories from my writing journey. Like other authors, the path from inspiration to publication is arduous, filled with pitfalls of despair and moments of elation. There are no overnight successes in this business.
For those who began writing their own version of the “Great American novel” during the pandemic, please know I have been writing for eighteen years. Beginning with short stories, non-fiction, how-to books, weekly newspaper columns, and finally, a transition to novels. All traditionally published. There are no shortcuts in this business.
Authors hold secret meetings about our publication woes. We talk about a saturated market where thousands (yes thousands) of titles release daily. We whisper about the literary pecking order, and how your work can be stellar, but ultimately, the publisher’s credibility carries the most weight. Authors bemoan how social media creates a false reality, one where readers believe everyone is buying books, but few are during a recession. In this faux-reality, readers think we don’t need their support. Authors are trapped in this social-media cycle struggling to reach our audience while knowing in our creative souls the readers hold our careers in their powerful hands.
Authors also stand on the shoulders of others who refused to give up; those who took gut-punches of rejections and recognized there are no short cuts. Authors who inherently understand this gig isn’t easy, but is so rewarding. Authors who partner with booksellers, buying books long before putting a single word on the page. There is a community among wordsmiths; booksellers are the cornerstone.
Stories matter.
Literacy matters.
Supporting each other, matters.
Inside this community, members do not take without giving; they do not tell others you are a risk not worth taking; they do not compete, they share and celebrate. Inside the writing community, others recognize an empty cup and tap you off so you can continue.
Let’s be honest, haven’t we all needed a little “tapping off” just to make it through another day?
And this, my friends, is why my time behind the microphone is vital. How does one convey the importance readers play in the literary community, in society as a whole?
How can I tap off those whose cups are empty?
I could have stayed at the microphone for hours connecting with this audience of glorious readers, but statistically we tune out any speaker who crosses the 25-minute mark. And so I began.
I began with an icebreaker about my Dippity-do hair. It is not lost on me that my morning drama provided a moment of laughter at my expense. I transitioned to quick stories about the people who raised me. I write about strong women, because failing wasn’t an option for the women in my family. I am confident the women in Outbound Train: Carole Anne, Barbara and Pearlene wanted to give up many times when life got rough, but quitting wasn’t an option.
In truth, quitting isn’t an option today either.
While I didn’t share the secret author conversations, I did speak honestly about personal heartache along the bumpy road to publication. Readers can spy a fake from a million miles away.
I shared my hopes and the unexpected magic of becoming an internationally published author. (Yay France! And fingers crossed for a Russian translation). I spoke with gratitude and humility. The multiple awards I’ve won will become hollow trinkets of success without readers. It is for them, and because of them, that I write.
I spoke of the heartache and wanting to give up. I gave thanks to those supporting writers who believed in me.
I was honest. I was vulnerable. I extended the hand of friendship to everyone in the audience.
Genuinely.
Sincerely.
Humbly.
I am kin to Carole Anne, Barbara, Pearlene and the other heroes in Outbound Train. Do not shy away from our hardworking hands when we extend them to you, for to do so reveals something dark and judgmental within the human psyche.
We are here today because someone before us did the hard work. We are equal. We are stronger together, always.
After the presentation, I gathered with the amazing team from Moonpie General Store who sponsored the festival and served as bookseller. In between signings, we discussed my “Bologna Book” and the tradition of banana moon pies in the Winchester family. Once again, I am reminded how food brings us together, and how words heal the soul if we allow it.
For those who didn’t attend the conference, or who didn’t have time to stop at the table and purchase a copy of Outbound Train, or Farming, Friends & Fried Bologna Sandwiches, signed copies are available. Give the fine folks a jingle at 865 428 5708. They will take care of you.
All too soon it seemed the conference was over. Time to pack up, return home and ready myself for the next conference. As always, I am grateful to you. Please follow me on Goodreads and mark my books “to be read” if you haven’t already.
And despite a minty-fresh halo hovering above me, my hair looked fantastic.
Renea Winchester is a multiple-award winning author who is internationally published. She is working on her next novel.
Renea Winchester 