by R.S. Mellette

This blog-umentary started out as an analysis of hiring a PR firm for a small-press book, and I promise we’ll get back to that, but to assess that value for the month of April I have to fill you in on some personal backstory. 

You might want to get a tissue.

Sometime in November or December I learned that my Dad, who lives in DC, had terminal cancer. I had planned to get out to visit sooner than later but schedules kept being moved around and he said he was fine, so my visit got pushed back to April.

At the same time, my 13-year-old German Shepherd was living on borrowed time. For months, I lived in fear that I’d miss being there when one needed me because I had to be with the other.

 On Sunday March 27^th, my Shepherd relieved me of that fear. 

She woke up being more unstable than usual. She couldn’t walk straight. Her head tilted hard to one side and her eyes twitched in a circle. Between tears, my wife and I made an emergency appointment with the vet. Driving her to that appointment, knowing I probably wouldn’t be driving her back, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. We still miss her terribly.

Five days after that was WonderCon. 

Weeks before, someone posted on Facebook that they needed a novelist to round out a panel they were doing for the convention. I saw the post during my obsessive scrolling for socio-promotional opportunities, replied, and was accepted. So on April 1^st, five days after my dog passed, I slapped on a faux happy face and went to Anaheim. 

Some of you may know that pre-COVID I put together the L.A. SCBWI booth for the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books as well as LA Comic Con. I also put some panels together for LACC, but this would be my first time going to a Con with nothing to do but chat. It was quite an education. 

My fellow panelists were delightful. Forget about business connections, these folks were fun. I needed that. And it’s always nice to have the ego stroke of getting to be an expert. When you put your life and work in perspective like that, in front of people who haven’t traveled the same roads you have, you might be surprised to learn that you actually are an expert at some little things. That felt good.

Being a panelist entitled me to a full pass for the convention, so I decided to check it out the next day. At the booths, I collected cards from artists whose work I liked—figuring publisher-Matt will be in the market for a new one when Book 2 comes out.

When one artist asked what my book was about, I said, “It’s Xena: Warrior Princess meets Star Wars.” 

A young woman standing next to me got a curious look on her face. “I’ve heard of that.”

We talked. She wasn’t at the panel the night before. We’d never met. We aren’t friends on social media. Somehow, someway, word had gotten to a complete stranger about my book. Something was working.

With that win, I left the market floor to sit in the audience for some panels. That’s when I discovered that beyond the costumes and collectors, there is a lot of business going on at a convention for fans. I saw CoyCast do a live podcast from the panelist table. I took a picture, tweeted it out. They liked it. Afterward we talked about me possibly being a guest—more because of my film festival background than the book—but the author is the product in publishing. Nothing has come of that, but I need to follow-up.

I went to another panel about something I was only half interested in—and before it started Gene Turnbow from SciFi.radio said, “If any of you have audio books you’re promoting, come up and see me.” Preparation, meet Opportunity. I talked with Gene, we exchanged emails and that led to an interview on their premiere talk show, Event Horizon. After the interview, they would run chapter 1 of the audio book and for the next nine weeks, a new chapter each week—using the same 9 chapters I was already giving away as free promotion. 

The interview was scheduled for later in April. Meanwhile, I was set to fly out to DC to see my Dad. The day before I left, my sister informed me that he’d taken a turn for the worse and that I might have to extend my stay. I packed for a funeral.

Once there, I discovered his condition was up and down. For the first part of my visit he was very much up. We had a nice time together. When he dozed off, I’d do socio-promotional work on my phone. Since he didn’t need me overnight, I did the SciFi.radio interview from the guest room of my cousin’s DC condo. I think I managed to get through it with a cheery persona. That was April 20^th. The street date for the book, April 26^th.

By April 23^rd, my Dad’s health was gliding down slowly as expected. I left him in the hands of my sister & cousins, figuring to get back to see him later in May. 

On April 25^th, he woke up having forgotten he had cancer. The panic attack that followed scared him quite a bit. I did a podcast interview that day for a dyslexia-centric website. It wasn’t easy, since my Dad was a big part of my learning to read as a child, and had heavily edited Kiya And The Morian Treasure, which was due out the next day.

April 26^th, the book launched. I kind of felt like a screenwriter sitting on the set—my work had been done so long ago that there was nothing to do on the day but watch. I also got reports from DC about my Dad. It wouldn’t be long. I booked another flight.

Before I could get to DC, my Dad passed away peacefully. A struggling novelist all his life, he’d not been published since an article he wrote in college, “The Raid of the Panty Brigade,” was picked up nationally. I’m planning to read a passage from one of my favorites of his work at his celebration of life in June.

Back to the point of this blog-umentary. Was it worth it? The money, I mean. We’ll find out next month on the final chapter.

For more fantastic content, community, events, and other professional development opportunities, become a member today! Not sure if there is a chapter in your area? Check here.

R.S. Mellette is on the board of the LA Region of SCBWI as the PAL Liaison.

Images provided by the author.