I Almost Had A Book Signing With No Books.
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Being a self-published author is like being an independent music artist.
You get to be in full creative control of the project. Everything from the internal book content or album, to the rollout and outreach is your responsibility. This can be so empowering when you have a clear vision and timeline of how you want to execute.
The downside to being a self-published author is that everything is not only your responsibility, but your expense. If you want to make it happen, you’ve either got to pay for it out of your own pocket or find someone who believes enough in your work to cover the cost. And as we know, everything has a cost.
Since last summer I knew that I wanted my third book and debut poetry collection Songs From The Girls Room to come out during the spring season. I wanted this book to bloom and blossom with nature. But after a cold winter filled with sparse freelance jobs, dead end interviews, failed managerial relations, a lack of budget, and a clouded mind on what to do next/how to bring my idea to life, it felt nearly impossible to kick off this era, but we did.
Captured by Dylan Robinson
Songs From The Girls Room officially released exactly one month go exclusively here on The Soular Lab June 5th, 2024.
Songs From The Girls Room is a collection of songs & poems addressed to the feelings and experiences that make the bathroom the transformative space that it is. A dash of reflection sprinkled with a bit of imagination. This collection is a culmination of themes and thoughts helping me to define my womanhood & carve out a perspective that honors tradition. This book uses symbols and sound effects through type, to illustrate the musical listening experience, and utilizes it as a vehicle to examine the ever-changing concept of identity, through the Black feminine lens.
A 4-year labor of love, this book is so special to me & I really am trying my best to effectively communicate that passion and zeal in a new and interesting way. While also recognizing new potential readers and the habits of existing poetry lovers.
This hasn’t been easy. I almost had a book signing with no books.
And you’re probably wondering how is that even possible for “someone like you,” but that is exactly what I want to dive into with this story.
This recollection starts late this past April. I was sitting in my tiny New York room, in my tiny New York apartment. I thought my book was complete. I had already gotten two sample copies printed, but the book just didn’t feel ready. At the same time I was trying to figure out a way to bring my rollout to life with no budget. I was losing my mind, hyper fixating on Jamaican beef patties, fighting a resistance that rumbled deep down in my gut.
I decided that it was best to go back down south to finish the project and recharge. So mid May I packed my suitcase and boarded the Greyhound bus, with one ticket for the scenic route to Charlotte, NC.
The release of Songs From The Girls Room has been one that is continuously challenging me. I constantly have these moments where I feel disappointed and ashamed of where I am on my journey.
The voices in the back of my head tell me I should be “farther along.” They convince me that my best is just not good enough. They scream that I should have listened to people who don’t dream like I dream. People who have never walked the unique path that I am hoping to uncover.
I have to combat these voices by reminding myself that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am not on this journey because of what I can see, but because what I can feel.
The intangible is what wakes me up every morning and propels me to continue creating, telling stories, and sharing my work. Even when clouded skies distort my vision and foggy feelings loom over my heart.
Captured by Dylan Robinson
So how did I almost have a book signing with no books?
Well the simple answer, is that the books didn’t arrive on time.
Captured by Dylan Robinson
But the more introspective answer, is that even with 2 prior books, a Nike dunk, a NBA G League jersey, collabs with Fortune 500 companies, a collegiate lecture etc. etc. etc. I am still on the ground hustlin’.
I am still trying to get the world to look and listen. The external pedestal I stand on is far from the top of internal mountains I intend to reach.
My grind is not necessarily a bad thing, especially in a digital world where everything is so here today, gone tomorrow. A world where artist shoot up to the top without proper preparation and are left to fend for themselves.
Everyday is stretching me in new capacities. I am having to flex my creative muscle beyond my artistic obligations. I have to trust myself and put my faith to use when putting out fires. I have to stand tall in my decisions, but also be open to change and allow the universe around me to work in my favor.
I am not looking for instant gratification. I want a long lasting career with supporters that are invested in my raw talent and stick around for the development and growth. I aspire to produce bodies of work that are led with anticipation, because people care. I dream about the opportunities that will make room for me, provide me with a sense of consistency that shifts my worries and supplies me with infinite resources.
But I can’t fully acknowledge my aspirations without also recognizing that I am a Black woman, and that automatically puts me at a disadvantage. I have experienced people tell me where I’m supposed to be, what I should look like, and what I should have. Then turnaround and deny me the same opportunities that they claimed were my right.
Yes, I almost had a book signing with no books.
Yes, I wish this project had more upfront financially backing.
Yes, I had to postpone the book signing event one week later to ensure that everything would be right.
Yes, I contemplated not postponing at all, and sticking with my original date out of “professionalism.”
Yes, I shed tears because it felt like it would never come together.
Yes, I was afraid that no one would come.
But when I needed it most, my community showed up for me in such a miraculous way and that is what matters.
That is the point of Songs From The Girls Room.
The moral of the story is that we are not on linear journeys. Our obstacles don’t define us. It is the choices we make to handle them. There is not one way to handle what we have been dealt & that is what makes us so complex and compelling. Most importantly we can’t do it alone.
This was my first time hosting an in-person event for one of my books & I absolutely couldn’t have done it without my community.
There is something so remarkable about hosting this event in my hometown, seeing the people I love and that love me, hold my book in their hands as they listen to me recite such intimate words back to them.
Huge thank you to Cheryse of Archive CLT for allowing me to use her space & my family and friends for helping me fill that space. From the books themselves to activities for the kids, refreshments, and even helping me to capture content to share with my greater community. It’s a group effort through and through.
Captured by Dylan Robinson
I am just getting started with all the things I hope to do with Songs From The Girls Room. It’s only been one month of the book being out in the world & I believe wholeheartedly in the impact that this book can make. I appreciate each and every person offering me both a digital and physical space to cultivate meaningful experiences around the book.
There is something so precious about hearing my own voice ring in a room filled with the people who have watched me transform from a girl to a woman & I intend to keep expanding that room and welcoming in new and unfamiliar ears.
Before we part ways I would like to leave you with this poem:
Let Me Stop You There
By Arial Robinson
Stop telling little black girls to be realisticRealistically you should shut the fuck up!This country was built on the backs of my peopleAnd freed by the blood of our men Scars mended by the women of our communities And still, our own fight to fight then. Don’t tell me I’m asking for too much Cus you and I know that I’m twice as good When our great-grannies was raising our granniesThey were teaching your granny tooIf you can’t see this dream is my realityYou best find a clue.See this hair on the top of my head is mineAnd I ain’t shaping it no other way I know people that would pay to make this much noise So best believe imma let it rumble I could pop big shit, cus I ran laps around my competitors And I still managed to keep it humble So don’t tell little black girls to be realistic Realistically you should shut the fuck up!And listen to the songs we singing With two ears and a closed mouth Cus I ain’t God & I never wanted to be But I promise, I’ll be more, than just a girl from the southImages captured by Krishanni Smith of Red Coast Productions
Thank You!