A book launch and signing - what's that?

Paul's Bench

I'm going to write about the book launch and signing of Leaving the Hall Light On in three parts: Preparation, The Actual Event, and Lessons Learned.


Part One: Preparation
I think the worst part of the preparation stage was waiting for the book signing to happen. I booked it for the first Thursday after the book's release at Pages, my local independent bookstore, several months in advance, and I started to stress right away. I always stress before speaking in public and always end up calming down right before I speak, so it’s really the waiting time that drives me to drink.

I also arranged for publicity in our local newspapers, "The Beach Reporter" and "Easy Reader." "The Beach Reporter" interview happened the Monday before the event and appeared on the day; "Easy Reader," though it got a review copy of my book, has yet to print something. Well, as I said to them in my email today, it’s never too late.

Then I sent out invitations. I created an event on Facebook and carefully selected people in my local area to invite. In all I got about forty yes RSVPs from the Facebook folks. I also sent out an electronic invitation by email. I chose the Punchbowl application – I think it’s a lot nicer than Evite. The invitation actually comes in an envelop that the invitee clicks to open. I got another forty or so yes responses as a result of that invitation. With that number of positive responses I started to stress even more. Plus my husband kept wondering where the small bookstore could put all those people. I didn't worry about that. I knew people would come and go – not everyone would be there at the same time. Also a woman I do Pilates with advised me to have no expectations about the number of attendees. She said I could have a huge crowd or no attendees at all. And I knew from my The Emerging Goddess reading experience, people who say they'll come don't, and people I don't expect to come do.

Next I had to plan the food. My wonderful facialist offered early on to host mini cupcakes, and I was delighted with that offer. To accompany those I decided to offer strawberries, mangos and cheese cubes; wine, and sparkling water. At my last reading we had way too much food, so I worried about how much to serve. It seemed like the crowd would be bigger this time, so I of course, the typical Jewish mother, didn’t want to run out.

Another hard part of the prep was deciding what part/parts of the book to read. I had read an article about book signings and readings a few months ago, and the advice was to read for no more than ten minutes. Otherwise the audience would start nodding off. So after a few tries I picked a short prose piece, purposely chosen not to reveal much of the dark nature of my story and to show how I started on my way to survival. I also decided to ask the other three main characters in the book, my husband, son, and daughter-in-law to each read a poem. I picked out their poems.  As the article advised, I printed out the excerpt and poems in large font on white paper so we wouldn't have fumble around reading  from the book. And as suggested I practiced my part three or four times.

Stay tuned for Part Two: The Actual Event

Book launch and signing - a huge success

The launch party for Leaving the Hall Light On at Pages: a bookstore in Manhattan Beach CA last night was a huge success. People from all parts of my life attended: high school friends, former work colleagues, neighbors, friends from the Los Angeles area and Las Vegas, Ojai, San Diego, and Oakland, and many family members. In addition people came as a result of a wonderful article about my book in our neighborhood newspaper, "The Beach Reporter": http://www.tbrnews.com/articles/2011/05/12/stepping_out/step3.txt. 


The room was filled to the brim with standing room only during my reading, and it was a dream come true to have so many attendees wait in line for me to sign their books. In all, the event resulted in the sale of sixty-one books - with some people buying two or three.


People I've known for years and people I've never met came up to me to tell me their similar story of bipolar disorder and suicide in their lives. I am indeed thrilled they chose to attend last night and read my book.

Keeping my fingers moving – fast and furiously

I was invited to be the guest at the weekly chat conducted by a Facebook group I belong to last Friday evening. The subject was my memoir, Leaving the Hall Light On.

And I must admit when I agreed to attend I had no idea what to expect. I’ve participated in online telecoms, individual chats on Facebook, but never a group chat. I didn’t even know at first whether this would be an audio chat or just through the computer keyboard.

I found out soon enough – it was a typing on the computer kind of chat.

The organizer sent a link to a Facebook chat application called “Let’s Chat” via Clobby Group Chat, and I logged in about fifteen minutes before my six o’clock evening start time. A few people were already there – I could tell from the list on the right sidebar. The group leader was also there and said she was relieved to know I managed to successfully get in. Then she had me test how many words I could type in the little input box before the application cut me off. It turned out to be about two and a quarter lines of text. She said I could keep “talking” if I hit return at the end of my limit. I would then get another input box that allowed me to continue.

Now all of that works very well in practice and through the first few questions that were one on one between the leader and me, but pretty soon others started typing in their questions as well. And some turned out to be comments to past answers, and some not even directed at me. It’s like a lot of balls being thrown my way at once that kept me on my toes – or fingertips I should say. I had to keep scrolling up and down to make sure I answered what I needed to answer. By this time my fingers were huffing and puffing, but I think I answered every one. When the leader announced after about an hour and fifteen minutes that the question and answer period was over and that the attendees could then just chat amongst themselves, I was definitely ready for a rest.

A couple of other things:

People kept coming in and out of the chat – I could tell because their names kept flashing on the screen. I was a little taken aback when one participant left the chat after about a minute into it. I started to wonder what did I do, what did I say, but I realized I had to get over that and more on. The screen also told me who was typing.

Also, I had my computer desktop loaded with backup material. But I never referred to any of it. That’s good. It proved I didn’t need any notes. Plus I wouldn’t have had the time to look if I did need them.

My online chatting experience turned out to be both an exhausting and exciting. Plus I loved to interact with so many people about my book. We’ve agreed to meet again after they’ve read the book. 

Happy Birthday, Dad

Dad with Paul, 1972

Today would be my dad’s birthday. He died in 1975 at the age of seventy-two after a year and half battle with cancer of the bile duct system. Who knows where that came from? He always lived very healthy. He was trim, he was an early advocate of health foods and one of the first health food gurus Gaylord Hauser, he didn’t smoke, and drank only moderately. I always worried a heart attack would take him since he had one at age fifty-seven, probably caused by stress. Perhaps stress was what caused his cancer. He sure had his share of it – from my mother and from major business setbacks toward the end of his life.

He was a quiet guy and kept most of his thoughts and feelings inside. That could have caused his cancer as well. I’ve heard if we let emotions out it’s better for our health.

What I most admire him for was his sense of family – he always protected us and encouraged us. He also was creative. He played the violin as a youngster, and he made sure my siblings and I studied music – we all learned to play piano. Plus he knew about interior design. As a textile salesman and fabric designer he had a wonderful eye for how to furnish our homes. I think I got my love of beauty and music from him.

He also was in love with our son Paul. Unfortunately, my dad died when Paul was three. Paul first tinkled on the piano at my mom and dad’s house, and perhaps he got an early encouragement to learn to play from my dad.

It’s now thirty-six years since he died, and though I don’t think of him often enough, I remember him well.

Happy Birthday, Dad, wherever you are. 

Love, Madeline

It's Not Just About the Money

Paul Sharples 1971-1999

The Red Room Where the Writers Are blog (http://www.redroom.com/) prompt this week was to write about "writing for free." Here is what I had to say about that.

I’ve been writing without monetary rewards virtually all of my life. However I’ve stepped up the pace in the years since the death of my son in 1999, when I found that writing paid me in comfort and healing.

Writing about the unhappiness and tragedy in my life transfers the pain from my body onto the page. Writing is like an addiction to me; I get itchy if I don’t do it. My office, where I write, is like magic to me. I could spend all day in there and never feel confined. I see the outside garden and the fountain from my writing table. The fountain attracts the most beautiful orange and yellow birds. Some have red heads, some take little dips in the pool, some surf on the leaves that hang over the fountain, some just hover over the water too wary to wade in. The time I spend writing in my office makes me feel so good. Writing leaves me no time for grieving.

Though Paul’s death has been a horrendous loss, he left me with the wonderful gift of writing, especially poetry. Poems just came spontaneously after he died, and now I integrate writing poetry into the rest of my writing life.

Another gift is that is that I was able to create a book about him and his bipolar disorder and how my family and I survived his suicide. I wrote it let others know about the dangers of bipolar disorder and the frustrations of caring for an adult child with bipolar, that it is possible to survive the death of a child, and to keep Paul’s memory alive. Even if I don’t make a cent from book sales, if my book, Leaving the Hall Light On, benefits others I’ll feel it is a success.

So it’s not just the dollars that count. Writing has paid me in ways much more valuable. 

My interview for Out on a Limb

My friend and writing colleague, Martha Clark Scala, interviewed me for her monthly e-zine, "Out on a Limb," meant to invite and inspire you to maximize the joy in your life. I am so thrilled that she chose to write about me and my book in her newsletter. She is a true BFF.

Out on a Limb

A Monthly Newsletter from Martha Clark Scala

Invest in bringing joy back to your life. May 2011 http://www.mcscala.com/Ezine/May2011.html

Here is the interview:

Digging Out of the Muck: An Interview with Poet and Memoirist, Madeline Sharples

In April’s Limb, you heard about Helen the Hummingbird and her two babies. Several readers have written to ask “what happened next?” The two babies successfully fledged! We have viewed them on neighboring bushes and branches, and on one occasion, Helen was seen feeding the kids. Since then, I’ve had the privilege of seeing a seal pup who was only one hour old, and observed the family activities of five goslings with their parents. In the wild, and in captivity, it is usually our parents who show us the way, and whom we are meant to emulate. It doesn’t always work that way but when it does, young ones are able to develop to their highest potential. Our parents do not need to be our only teachers; it is just important that we find them!

Grieving adults may not look like baby goslings but some part of us is very, very young in the aftermath of loss. We need someone to look up to who will show us the way. That is why I want you to meet Madeline. I met Madeline Sharples four months after the suicide of her multi-talented son, Paul. As fellow participants in a writing workshop led by Ellen Bass, Madeline’s stark, honest poetry about this devastating loss left me breathless. In periods of deep grief, I have often thought of Madeline, and tried to emulate her fierce determination to “dig out of the muck,” as she once put it, of sorrow. Sometimes it helps to have a person who you can think of to remind yourself “If she can dig out of the muck, then so can I.” Or perhaps it helps to have a parent or teacher like the seal pup’s who, within one hour of birth, was already being led to the water for important lessons about self-care and survival.

On Mother’s Day (May 8th), Madeline’s memoir, Leaving the Hall Light On: A Mother's Memoir of Living with Her Son's Bipolar Disorder and Surviving His Suicide, will go on sale. 

Madeline took some time to share how she re-claimed joy despite the tragedy of her son’s suicide.

Martha: Did it ever occur to you, after Paul's death in the Fall of 1999, that you could possibly experience joy in your life again?

Madeline: No. I didn’t think there was anything to be joyful about. I had thoughts about taking my own life. The only thing that kept me from that was that I couldn’t hurt my husband Bob and or my son Ben that way. I also thought I was betraying Paul’s memory by doing anything that would make me remotely happy.

Martha: What brought joy to your life prior to Paul’s suicide?

Madeline: Some of the same things that bring joy now – family (especially the little children in the family), going to dinner with friends, feeling successful in my work, working out, writing, and my list of diversions – movies, theater, opera. Most of all I loved listening to Paul play his music and watching Ben on stage and on the tennis court.

Martha: What helped you cope with Paul's suicide?

Madeline: When people ask me how I managed to live through the suicide of my son, Paul, I tell them about my recipe for healing  with writing as one of the main ingredients. Soon after I came home from that writing workshop we attended, I found a class taught by a cuddly chubby guy in the relaxed and intimate setting of his living room. He and the others in the class were very forgiving about the dozens of poems and journal entries I wrote about Paul. A goal to write a memoir started to formulate: perhaps if I could tell my story, I could help other parents with children with manic depressive illness that in many cases results in suicide. A goal and the sympathetic understanding of others have helped in my grieving and healing process.

Martha: Besides your writing, what else helped?

Madeline: It’s a long list: I spent time with friends and family, went back to my aerobics class, pampered myself, attended Survivors After Suicide meetings, found a job outside my home, and we were respectful of each other as a family: we stuck together, moved through our grief in our own way and in our own time, and we came out the other side as a family closer than ever before.

Martha: Your poetry always stays with me, Madeline. If you could only write one haiku to sum-up your path back to life, joy, and hope, what three lines would you write?

Madeline:             I walk on the beach
                          follow the straight sun-lit path
                          eyes always forward

Martha: Last but not least, what two pieces of advice on how to access or re-kindle joy after devastating loss would you like to offer fellow grievers?

Madeline:              

1. Take your time – don’t let anyone tell you that the time for grief should be over.
                           

2. Pamper yourself: stay in shape physically, get massages and facials, eat healthy, meditate, be open to new friends and new things to take your mind off of your loss.

Martha: Thank you so much, Madeline. I know your memoir will make a difference in many people’s lives.

Note:

Martha and I also collaborated on another piece for The Compassionate Friends newsletter in the Summer of 2001. Her piece "I'm Not Contagious" included my poem "Aftermath." http://www.bobbiemel.com/Helpful-articles-for-grief-depression-and-becoming-resilient-0/bid/47024/i-m-not-contagious/

A new month, a new song by Paul Sharples

Please go to the second page of this blog and scroll down to play another song by Paul. 


And read his story and ours in: Leaving the Hall Light On: A Mother's Memoir of Living with Her Son's Bipolar Disorder and Surviving His Suicide.


The book is now available on:


Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Leaving-Hall-Light-Madeline-Sharples/dp/0984631720/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1304004639&sr=1-1%22


Barnes and Noble: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Leaving-the-Hall-Light-On/Madeline-Sharples/e/9780984631728/?itm=1&USRI=leaving+the+hall+light+on