Allow me to preface all of this with an important caveat; I am not a very social person. I am the definition of a homebody – content to stay at home with my entertainment, my work and my cat. 

But this was not always the case.

So when it was that earlier this year I was gifted the opportunity to travel from my dreary countryside backwater to sunny Brisbane and be part of Celestial Events and their ball event as an author before the grand show itself, I will admit it lit something of a flame beneath me. I had never done something like this before. My social days are long past. I have never dared to believe I might have the chance to not only sell my books but also talk about them with an interested audience. It might have struggled a bit with my innate nature to be recalcitrant, but against the spark of yesteryear and the incredibly welcome enthusiasm of those who wanted to see it happen, I dared to step outside of the box.

I am new at this whole author thing, I have to admit. Writing is something I know well enough, the nitty gritty details of making it work. Being an author is something else. It conjures very serious pictures with slightly wild hair, with a piercingly speculative stare and a generous measure of gravitas. It does not summon up a grumpy ball of anxiety badly overdue for a haircut and a shave, sitting half perched upon a chair as though prepared to flee – and yet, here we are. Thankfully people with better judgement say I do pull it off – which is good, because at most times I feel like a fraud.

But it sank in a little bit more with each step of the journey. From the flight over, to seeing the friends I missed, where it truly started to hit home was when I finally got to meet a friend and colleague I had been working with for years, but never been able to meet in person.  Honestly, finally being able to give Renee a hug was something that would have made the trip worthwhile, even if everything turned out to be a disaster from that point on.

It was not, however.

It was very far from it indeed.

A little more information; Celestial Events is a primarily romantasy based event – revolving around Sarah J Maas’s work, A Court of Thorns and Roses. This is not the genre I write, personally, so I was a little worried I would not fit in with the crowd. I could not have been more wrong.

The people at the event were fantastic people. I had forgotten what it was like to be amongst people who simply love books. To write them as well as talk about them.

This is not to say everything went perfectly smoothly. Our trolley broke at the carpark and instead we had to manhandle an egregious amount of books to the venue with the help of a truly wonderful young man we met on the way whom we gave a gift copy to, with our thanks. I was locked out at one point after making a bathroom visit and had to be rescued by Renee from the Corridor Of No Return that I was trapped in. Apart from that, however, we were extraordinarily lucky. We shared our table with an absolutely lovely lady by the name of Nova Kardinalis (please look up her book When Snow Falls, a dark urban fantasy love story about wonderfully terrible people, I enjoyed it and you might too!) who, like us, was very new at this sort of thing. We got along famously, our shared nervousness exploding into enthusiastic energy as we chatted and shared ideas and plans – and even helped each other sell our books as well.

Speaking of selling – we sold out. All our paperbacks and hardcovers were gone, so quickly that we were left scrambling. At first we sold only Beasts of London, but by the next day were selling Tales of Ale and Chainmail as well, and we did great numbers of both. Enough to know that next time, we would have a much better grasp of the quantity of books we were going to need to keep up with demand. It was a learning experience all round, but as much as I learned, what really helped was just being part of it all.

Between the lovely lady who beelined straight for us to get Beasts of London based on the online reviews (they really do help) and the numerous other people who were sold instantly by the premise, and so many others, each little interaction was a little stamp of validation. People wanted to know about my book. They wanted to read my book! And they bought it too. And every time they did, something that needed breaking broke just that little bit more.

We all gathered together for dinner afterwards at a spectacular little Turkish restaurant on the river, with friends and partners. Originally the plan was to go and drink afterwards but that lovely little restaurant put paid to that notion by giving us more food than we could say no to. It led instead to us being bundled over to Renee’s comfy pad, where I had books to sign – the snazzy collectors editions of Beasts of London. And a very lovely doggo named April.

In between giving said dog well deserved pats and scritches (may she never be lacking for them), and finding out my ability to drink whiskey has entirely atrophied, scribbling my name into each cover, with each signature that little shattering continued, until it actually, and finally sank in. Despite my best efforts at misconceptions, I was an author. 

I am an author. The event, the fellow authors, the absolutely wonderful people who stopped by our booth and took a chance on my work, they all repeated it back to me, each time, until the voice inside that said otherwise was drowned out. I have to admit, it remains a pretty darn good feeling.

Would I go back and do it again? Absolutely yes. Without a second of hesitation. Over and over again. Give me a chance and I’d do it every month. Give me my little name badge, let it become armour against my self-doubt, and let me meet more and more of these people who I am so very, very grateful for, now and always, for taking a chance on my work.

Oh and next time, I am going to the ball afterwards. You’d have to tie me up in a sack to stop me. Fingers crossed – I will see you there.

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