5 Things I Hate About Book Launches (Plus 5 Things I Love)

On my drive home from Orange County last month, the sun was setting just as I glided down a two-lane highway flanked by wildflowers. California in the spring is just dreamy! But it wasn’t only the landscape that put me into a good mood.

I’d just finished an event at Laguna Beach Books, where I read the introduction, plus some of my favorite poems, to more than 20 people—total strangers!—who showed up to learn more about the wonderful combination of food and poetry. In that moment I felt utterly, wholeheartedly happy.

This is one of the good memories, the best kind to savor. I wrote it down in my journal to remember on days when, inevitably, the writing life feels less exciting.

It’s been almost two months since my cookbook was released, which is certainly long enough to have some thoughts collected. Over the years I’ve watched many friends publish books from afar, but since this is my first time experiencing all the joys and challenges that come along with it, I thought I’d share what’s been going well, and what’s been the most difficult, too.

Let’s start with the good news!


5 Things I Love About Book Launches


1 | Feeling like I’m in the right place at the right time

A few days before publication, I went to the beach, which is something of a ritual whenever I need some space to reflect. I just sat on a bench looking out into the sea, thinking of who I was and where I was four years ago when I first started drafting the manuscript. Getting to this moment was a labor of love, and above all, I feel like I’m in the right place at the right time. Seeing my face on the cover of Pasadena Weekly certainly helped, too. 

2 | Seeing books in the wild

Seeing my book out in the wild, as I like to say, is really a thrill. I’ve been assured by seasoned authors that it never gets old. It’s especially wonderful when someone outside your inner circle—like bookstores you’ve never heard of, or a friend’s aunt on Facebook—shares a photo of the book and you get to see it in bookstores, kitchens, and homes around the world.

3 | Expanding the inner circle

On Monday, March 20, a little independent bookstore in Maine posted an Instagram photo. It was a stack new releases hitting the shelves the next day, and Eat This Poem was stuck in the middle of the pile. That was the moment I realized the book would reach people even beyond my own inner circle. I think authors know this to be true, but something about seeing it happening, 3,000 miles away, made it all the more real.

4 | Making poetry more accessible

On more than one occasion a reader has told me “I didn’t enjoy poetry as much before, but now I’m hooked!” This is one of my favorite responses to the book, because it means poetry is taking root in places where it didn’t grow before. One of my early hopes in writing Eat This Poem was to make poetry more accessible, and by including it in the kitchen, giving both cooks and readers alike new ways to experience both of these essential life ingredients.

5 | Recording podcasts

Sign me up! I’ve recorded about six podcasts so far, and it’s been a blast getting to know fellow creatives and chatting about all things creativity, writing, food, and poetry. The conversations have felt effortless, like I’m talking to an old friend (when in reality, we’ve literally just met a few minutes before hitting the record button).

Now, being on the other side of publication is a place I’m loving, but it’s not without its difficult moments. Book publishing isn’t all about editors sending you flowers. Although this did happen to me on publication day, it’s certainly not a regular occurrence. Sometimes when all you see are cover photos popping up online, it doesn’t tell the whole story. With that in mind, here are a few things that are more challenging about the book launch process.

In conversation with Stef Ferrari at Diesel Books in Santa Monica

In conversation with Stef Ferrari at Diesel Books in Santa Monica


5 Things I Dislike About Book Launches


1| All the anticipation

I always feel amazing once an event is over. Actually, even during the event itself, like the one in Laguna Beach I told you about, I usually feel great. I’ve been trained in public speaking and did musical theatre growing up, so even though it’s not my favorite thing in the world, when I’m prepared, I’m relatively comfortable on stage. But the anticipation still gets me every time. The hours thinking, the traveling, the making sure my hair looks just right, picking out what to wear, wandering around the bookstore wondering if anyone will show up. That’s the part that depletes my energy and no amount of deep breaths or mindfulness seems to snap me out of it (although I’m working on it!).

2 | Keeping up with social media

Even though data shows most people aren’t buying books directly from social media (which is why having real, lasting relationships in places like a newsletter or Facebook group is important), it’s still part of the deal to talk about your work online, especially during a launch. Tools like Hootsuite make it easy to schedule posts in advance, and my trusty editorial calendar has helped me plan campaigns, too. The best way to survive is to do as much as you can in advance.

3 | Riding the emotional roller coaster

I’ve experienced the slow climb to the tallest peak, the rush down, and now I’m curving my way around some of the smaller bumps. This theme park metaphor is really just to say there are great days, good days, and average days. I’m not sure I’ve had any terrible days (yay!), but I’ve definitely noticed my energy change somewhat drastically, depending on what’s going on. For example, when a blogger publishes a post about Eat This Poem (super high!), then the next day there’s nothing new and the adrenaline starts coming down. Or, I hear about a potential mention in a big newspaper or magazine (exciting!), but feel disappointed when it doesn’t come through.

4 | Being back at the beginning

Once you publish a book, it’s officially done. You might be knee deep in promotion and PR and book touring, but the writing process is complete. The only thing for me to do is to dive head first into Book #2, which I’m realizing is perhaps the only thing more terrifying than a book launch. I haven’t been at the very beginning in more than four years, so it’s overwhelming to think just how far I need to go in order to do this all again. I have to constantly remind myself of my own advice: one thing at a time.

5 | Early morning flights

This should come as no surprise, but waking up at 4 a.m. isn’t really my favorite thing. Especially when I have to get dressed, put on my contacts, swipe mascara over my eyes, and go to the airport. But that’s what it takes to get to the east coast before the sun goes down. There are a lot of things I love about travel, but I always get a little bit anxious right at the beginning.

Well, that’s my first dispatch from the world of book launches! Have any questions about the process, or anything I shared? Please add a comment below!

"Tea" by Jehanne Dubrow + Almond Poppy Seed Scones

Almond Poppy Seed Scones from Eat This Poem

In the early days of the Eat This Poem blog, I accepted poetry submissions for upcoming posts. One day, a beautiful little sonnet appeared, and I loved it so much I tucked it away. I'd just started exploring the idea of a cookbook, and knew I wanted to keep this poem to include inside. The only problem was, it took years to finalize and get to the point when I needed to reach out to publishers and poets for permissions.

"Tea" just sat in my file, marked up, underlined, waiting. When I finally emailed Jehanne to thank you for submitting it all those years ago, and the good news that it was going to be published in a book (hooray!), I was thrilled she said yes. And since today is publication day (woooo hoooo!), I thought I'd share this little poem and one of the recipe pairings from the cookbook.

On the topic, some very kind things have been said about Eat This Poem, so I've basically been sobbing happy tears for the past week, and might continue well into April. Being at this point in my writing journey is such a special experience, and I'm trying to soak it up while it lasts! 

Here's where you can find some extra recipes and peeks inside Eat This Poem. You can also read more on the book's press page.

Radicchio Panzanella | Considering the Radish
The Earthy Beauty of Mushrooms | Food Republic
Interview with Jessie Voights | i8tonite
The Pleasures of Eating Mindfully | UpBeat Living
Podcast
Chasing Creative
Podcast | Wild Elixir


TEA

By Jehanne Dubrow

Tonight I’m fruit and clove. I’m bergamot.
I drop a teabag in the cup and boil
the kettle until it sings. As if on cue,
a part of me remembers how to brew
the darker things—those years I was a pot
of smoky leaves scented with orange oil.
Truth is: I don’t remember much of school,
the crushed-up taste of it. I was a drink
forgotten on the table, left to cool.
I was a rusted tin marked childhood.
I don’t remember wanting to be good
or bad, but only that I used to sink
in water and wait for something to unfurl,
the scent of summer in the jasmine pearl.


Almond Poppy Seed Scones from Eat This Poem

Within this brief sonnet, “darker things” from years past go unnamed, and a new language is formed. For fourteen lines, the speaker personifies tea, embodying familiar flavors of bergamot, fruit, and clove while becoming an invisible cup “forgotten on the table” and recalling the “crushed-up taste” of school. It’s easy to put yourself in her place, walking the halls with friends, pulling notebooks out of a locker, sitting in bleachers during football games, trying with desperation to grow into the person you are meant to become.

It takes courage to access nearly forgotten experiences, those that simultaneously shaped and shamed us. Although we might outgrow who we once were, faded memories tend to follow us into adulthood, and sometimes we need a cup of tea to make it right, a moment to settle our hearts and allow both the sweet and bitter leaves of our past to steep together.

Almond Poppy Seed Scones from Eat This Poem
Almond Poppy Seed Scones from Eat This Poem

Almond Poppy Seed Scones

Nibbling on scones fresh from the oven while sipping a cup of tea is a habit I picked up when living in London. But food is only one gratifying aspect of this ritual. What I love most is the state of mind tea places you in. For a few moments in the late afternoon, bodies pause and the mind slows down, focused wholeheartedly on the task at hand: inhaling, drinking, and taking that first, hot sip.

Makes 8

¾ cup buttermilk
2 teaspoons almond extract
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter
1 ½ cup all purpose flour, plus more for dusting
½ cup almond meal
½ cup toasted almonds, chopped
¼ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons poppy seeds
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt

Glaze
½ cup powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon almond extract
3 to 4 teaspoons heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 400°F and set out a baking sheet lined with parchment. Stir buttermilk and extract in a glass measuring cup and put it in the refrigerator until ready to use. Dice butter into small pieces and place in a small bowl; chill for at least 15 minutes. This helps keep the butter from melting as you work.

Whisk dry ingredients together in a large bowl, then scatter the butter on top. Blend using a pastry cutter or two knives, until small pieces form and it resembles coarse meal; this can take about 5 minutes. The butter doesn’t have to be the same size (some pieces will be larger than others), but it should be evenly distributed throughout the flour. Pour the wet ingredients over the top and stir until the dough just comes together and big, crumbly clumps form.

Gather the dough together with your hands and transfer it to a lightly floured cutting board; pat into an 8-inch circle. Cut 8 wedges and transfer to the baking sheet. Bake 16 to 18 minutes, or until golden.

To make the glaze, whisk sugar with the almond extract and cream until thick but still able to drip from the back of a spoon. When the scones have cooled slightly, drizzle the glaze on top.

Almond Poppy Seed Scones from Eat This Poem
Almond Poppy Seed Scones from Eat This Poem

From Eat This Poem: A Literary Feast of Recipes Inspired by Poetry by Nicole Gulotta, © 2017 by Nicole Gulotta. Reprinted by arrangement with Roost Books, an imprint of Shambhala Publications, Inc. Boulder, CO. www.roostbooks.com

What Eat This Poem Is Really About

Photo by Peter McEwen

Photo by Peter McEwen

In elementary school, I always cringed whenever I was assigned a group project. I was the kid who believed she could do the report/presentation/research better, faster, and more successfully than any of my classmates.

I wanted to work alone.

This remained my guiding philosophy for years until, slowly but surely, I started embracing the benefits of creative collaboration.

I can probably thank adulthood for this. As kids and as students—even with part-time or summer jobs—life is decidedly more simple, and time more abundant. As I’ve honed in on what I’m good at (writing, mostly), and what I’m not (photography, website design, etc.) I’ve enjoyed the benefits that come from doing my thing, and letting others do theirs.

My first clue was in high school, when I edited the literary magazine with a friend under the supervision of our creative writing teacher. For months we read submissions and put them in just the right order, then we worked on the layout, and finally, our teacher took the pages to Kinko’s and had the issue printed and saddle stapled. We were so proud! We made this! 


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By the time I started writing for Life & Thyme magazine, I knew what I was good at. I remember spending one morning sitting inside Providence restaurant, across the table from Michael Cimarusti, a chef with two Michelin stars to his name, talking about fishing and sourcing ingredients.

I asked questions while a photographer roamed the restaurant, then I walked back to my car feeling so… light. So happy. It was a warm day in February, and I had the windows rolled down and was looking at the bright blue sky feeling like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

The best part was after finishing the story and sending it off, photographers, editors, and designers went to work creating the issue. All I had to do was contribute my part.

The 11-year-old me never saw it coming.

Photo by Peter McEwen

Photo by Peter McEwen

And now, there is a book. A cookbook. The one I’ve been telling you about for the past year.

The more time I’ve spent on the other side of writing, and focusing more on marketing and promotion these past few months, the more I’ve realized just how amazing it is to publish a book at all. But not for the reasons you might think.

A book is a collaboration.

There are artists, designers, editors, agents, publishers, publicists, librarians, bookstores. Without all these people and their talents and shared visions, the book would still be a word document on my computer. In 12 point Times New Roman font.

It wouldn’t be able to do what all books are meant to do.

Whether it’s to teach, encourage, instruct, or inspire, books are beginnings.

Books are an invitation, the start of a relationship. They are meant to live in your homes and form to the rhythms of your life. They last.

There are lots of ways to describe Eat This Poem, and it’s always a copywriting challenge to choose just the right words to print to the back of a book or copy and paste to an Amazon profile.

The book is, in fact, about food and poetry, and the intersection of these two mediums. It's also about bringing more meaning to our meals.

But it's also about this.

Eat This Poem is a call for more stillness.

Reading a poem and cooking a meal are, quite simply, acts of self-care.

This is especially true on days that are full, sometimes rushed, and peppered with to-do lists. 

So let's be quiet, just for a moment.

Let's read, let's stir, and let's see how our hearts feel afterwards. 


We have three opportunities each day to pause, savor, eat.

Poetry forces us to slow down. Food does too, when we let it.

The combination of the two is, I hope, is permission to take a few minutes out of your day and truly enjoy your meal, the spiritual nourishment of poetry, and the physical fullness of the recipes paired with it.

As always, thanks for reading. Thanks for for letting me onto your screens, and now your bookshelves.