Impossible - things are happening
In 1965, which was apparently a very good year for musicals, Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote the lyrics for a musical version of the fairy tale Cinderella. It included a song called “Impossible” which concluded that “Impossible things are happening every day!” I believe that is true. My book is edited and proofread. My graphic designer is now beginning the process of interior layout and design of the manuscript. By the end of January, or hopefully, not later than mid-February, I should have a fully-revised book ready!
No longer do I have to be embarrassed that it is simply an amateur production. Professionals have had their hands and eyes on it and have given it their blessing. I can proudly offer my book to the world, but the question then becomes, does the world really want my book? The answer is, not really. The world is awash in books, movies, TV shows, blogs, vlogs, podcasts, and various other social media. In other words, the world is inundated with entertainment and distractions and with far too many books.
So, the aspiring author, having invested months if not years of his or her life, as well as at least a modest amount of money if not a small fortune, is faced with a sobering prospect. Once he or she finally releases the book, it will sail out into an ocean of indifference and proceed to sink into immediate obscurity. If this sounds like a grim view, let me say that it is not drawn from my dark imagination, but from most of the online experts who offer their advice to would-be authors. They counsel us not to expect too much.
What am I to do? The answer is, once again, I simply have to do the impossible. I’m getting used to it. I just have to defy all the odds and somehow find a niche for my little book. I want it to find a home in at least a few hearts and minds, where I hope that it might reside for a short while before it fades to black. People tell me that I am a cynic for saying things like this, but I disagree. I am actually a romantic, first, which is why I undertook this quest. But I am also a realist. I know that I soon have to face the music.
The good news is that I get to select the tune. Today I thought about the song, “Impossible” because it articulates the human ability to face the facts and seek to overcome them with optimism and determination. There are few nonfiction (NF) books that sell more than a hundred copies or so – the usual number of family and friends that an author can persuade to lay out $10 or $20 for a book that many of them suspect will be awful. The number of NF books that sell 1,000 copies is even fewer, and fewer still sell 10,000 or 100,000. And the height of folly is to expect that an NF book will become a NY Times bestseller.
It feels like being on the edge of a cliff with a parachute or a hang-glider. Someone is shouting at me to run over the edge and assuring me that I will fly like a bird, or drift down lazily like a leaf in the wind. I want to believe that I can achieve the miracle of flight, or at least avoid plunging to my certain death. But I need more than words of encouragement. I need some reason to trust the damn parachute. It is, after all, just a thin piece of cloth, attached to me with some bits of string; on it, I am risking my life.
So it is with the upcoming launch of my book. There is the merest sliver of hope that anyone will ever buy it or read it. The odds against it succeeding are tremendous. But I am going to give it a good shove and pray that it takes flight. I started with the idea to try to make it appeal to everyone. I wrote it in simple language and avoided delving into the technicalities of global health, my professional career.
But I just read an interesting article by a self-appointed expert (he has sold over five million books by the way). He says that, far from trying to reach everyone, I just have to find a select few people. The trick, he advises, is to find the people who will be most passionate about the book, or about my experience, and rave about it to others. I suppose it makes sense. It’s like sky-diving or hang-gliding. It’s not for everyone. If you are going to jump out of a plane or off a cliff, you want the experts there to show you how to do it right.
So, now I am plotting how to target a few small, select groups of people who I imagine might want to read the book. This expert says to figure out what is really unique or unusual about you or your book. Define your tribe, he says. Make the definition very specific. Define the things that make you who you are. It is quite interesting to stop and think what those few things are. I have come up with four things so far.
One, I grew up in Indiana in a Catholic family and have eight sisters and no brothers. I have never met another guy who had as many sisters as I do, and I doubt that I ever will. Large families are one of my tribes. Two, as I Peace Corps volunteer, I met a Muslim woman and converted to Islam to marry her; not many Americans ever do that. Three, sad to say, my first wife died very young of cancer. So, at the age of 40, I became a widower. Most people don’t know that, but I am aware of it every single day. There are not many 40-year-old widowers. Four, I lived, worked, and cycled in Africa for over 40 years. I cycled with many other hardy or foolhardy souls who had caught the Africa cycling bug; that is at my core.
If the expert is right, and I can somehow find these four tribes, the book will mean something to them. Wish me luck. This is all I’ve got to hang onto right now. I’m running toward the cliff as we speak … These four groups will be the wind beneath my wings. If they lift me up, then the book might just fly.
