The Ancillary Essay

As I was approaching publication date, I had a hunch that one story from my memoir might make a good essay for Modern Love. Not an excerpt; I would have to explain that I’d been widowed to suicide two months before Christmas and that, even though I wasn’t feeling much of the holiday spirit, I still wanted to give my young children a Wii and a happy-ish holiday, in 1500–1700 words. Because this story was specifically Christmas-related, it would really only make sense to appear sometime in December, which meant submitting the essay in September and hoping for an answer mid-November. Like many writers I know and love, I had been rejected by Modern Love more than once, so I had a backup plan. If I didn’t hear back from The New York Times by November 15, I would submit the essay to three other publications.

Then, I waited. I wish I could say that I made good use of this time by writing other essays, or writing something. I had work, of course. And my children, though occasionally wanting of my attention, are young adults now, approximately independent, and therefore an insufficient distraction. I took my elderly dog for long walks, and when he declined to join me, I went alone.

This part of the writing life — submitting essays to literary publications — is not unlike parenting young adult children. I do my best to prepare them, carefully adjusting words here, syntax there. Then I let them go into the world, knowing I’ve done my part. They are on their own.

I received word —– an enthusiastic yes, no less —– from the editor of Modern Love on November 7th. That email from Daniel Jones was even more thrilling than getting the publishing deal for my memoir. And yet, as with all things journalism, the risk of something more timely or sensational, or someone more literary, kept me on pins and needles from then until Sunday, December 25, when The New York Times was launched from my newspaper carrier’s dark blue Ford truck and thudded on my front walk, featuring my essay in Modern Love.

In the Et Alia Press “Book Launch Tuesdays” series, writer Charlotte Maya shares experiences and advice about launching her first book from six months before publication date to its first birthday.

Six Months Out

The Book Baby Turns to Book Biz

Those months before publication date were pretty thrilling, if ever so slightly nauseating, realizing that my heart, my life, and my story were about to be available to the public.

My memoir started its life in 2014 as a blog: SushiTuesdays.com, about navigating the aftermath of my husband’s suicide with my two young children. By the summer of 2022, Sushi Tuesdays was not just a URL but an official title, including a subtitle, cover art, and an actual publication date in 2023. I thought I’d already completed the heavy lifting, writing the manuscript, securing representation, and signing the publication contract. There were additional benign-seeming decisions such as font selection and back cover copy, along with the matter of the non-writing related author photo. Little did I realize, I was about to be branded.

It took me a while to claim an identity as a writer and longer still to think of myself as a business entity, which feels anathema to the creative process. The business end is the part of writing that I like the least; frankly, it’s one of the parts I had hoped to leave behind when I left the practice of law. I resented the pressure to be active on social media. I’m pretty much a Facebook flunky but did my best to post from time to time and to interact positively with other writers and readers. I never did get the hang of Twitter and ultimately shut down my account. I deleted my LinkedIn profile because I’d heard that the writers don’t hang out there, but I’m rethinking that decision now. I managed to maintain a presence on Instagram, which turned out well when an essay I wrote caught the attention of Sheryl Sandberg. You never know!

On the question of hiring a publicist, I was surprised to learn that most publicists will want to read the book and conduct an interview of sorts before they decide whether to take a writer on as a client. I did hire a publicist, and yes, she was expensive. She advised me that authors hire her to give their book the best chance to find its readers and that I would not likely earn enough in book sales to cover the expense. Both were true. She set up interviews, podcasts appearances, and a television appearance on publication date, all of which she prepared me for. She helped place an essay of mine with Writers’ Digest. She guided and cheered me along. I would absolutely hire her again.

I’m not opposed to profitability, but this book baby had a different impetus. I had written Sushi Tuesdays because I wanted to highlight both the problem of suicide and the presence of hope. I felt that suicide was a story demanding to be told and hoped that if I shared my story, others might feel safer to share theirs.

But, oh baby, are book sales a different thing. Book sales seem to be influenced by timing, effort, luck and, a fair amount of je-ne-sais-quoi. So, I do my best.

All of which is to say that getting my book and myself ready for public appearances was a very different (and somewhat less palatable but occasionally delightful) process than the writing itself. I try to remind myself that this part of the process only lasts for a season and do my best to enjoy it. Still, there’s a vibrant part of my introverted self who is looking forward to getting back to the library, back to the keyboard, back to the blank page.

“In 2021, suicide was the second leading cause of death for Americans ages 10 to 34, the fifth for ages 35 to 54, and the 11th leading cause of death nationwide, claiming the lives of more than 48,000 people, according to the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.”

From a CNN Health article about Sushi Tuesdays by Jodie Sadowsky.