The Awesomest Launch Party I've Ever Had (So Far)

The launch party for Strength to Stand at SubText Books in downtown St. Paul was a thing of beauty.

It started with the cake, created by Taste of Love Bakery in West St. Paul:

Which I threatened to kill, because there was a knife there. I mean, seriously, who gives a suspense author a knife?

And a crowd started gathering before we even got started:

I got to sign a bunch of books (and if you want to get one, SubText still has signed copies) as well as give away some author swag:

And I talked for a little bit about how the book and characters came to be and then read a short section from the book:

But we all know who the real star of the show was:

Suspense and the David Cohen series

Destined to Choose (book 1 in the Rabbi David Cohen series) and Strength to Stand (book 2) are very different books in some ways. Destined to Choose might be best described as literary suspense (literary fiction with suspense elements) and Strength to Stand is an out-and-out thriller.  It's come to my attention that an explanation of why this is, and what's in store for the rest of the series, might be of help to readers.

Let me start with a little bit of background. I first wrote Destined to Choose over a period of several years, culminating in its initial publication in 2003. In 2000, I'd shopped it around to other publishers, both Jewish and mainstream, and received some heartwarming responses. The vast majority of publishers loved it. The biggest problem was that I was an unknown author. The next biggest problem was that it was a niche book, too religious for some of the mainstream publishers, not religious enough for some of the Jewish publishers. Some publishers said they'd take it if I could prove myself with a few standalone novels first. Others said they'd publish it if it wasn't part of a series—if it was a standalone novel itself.

Photo: thinkpanama

I actually received several book contracts for it, but I didn't like some of the things they required in the contract. At the top of the list was that I'd have to sign over rights to the series. If Destined to Choose didn't sell well enough for their bottom line, I would be legally prohibited from publishing any other books in the series with another publisher. This, as you can imagine, is the kiss of death for a series author. So I declined to sign them, and my attempts at renegotiation didn't go anywhere.

Upon the recommendation of the founder of a small Jewish press whom I highly respected, I launched my own publishing company in 2002, taking great care to get everything right so that I could compete with the big guys. It worked, better than I could have ever imagined.

At the time, I wasn't thinking about genre. I'd written the book that was inside me, the one that wouldn't leave me alone. David and Sara and Batya and Arik and Eli can be very noisy when they want to be heard. I'd written it also thinking that the primary audience would be the Jewish community, or those who were interested in Judaism. I thought of it as a kind of "scholarly fiction"—the thinking person's novel. A novel with depth and well-researched ideas from a distinctly Jewish perspective. To be honest, I thought that the Jewish community would respect "scholarly fiction" more than "fluff fiction," but the overriding drive was that I love books that make me think more than books that simply make me laugh.

The very best piece of writing advice I ever received was, "Write the books that you want to read." I did exactly that.

 I'd published Destined to Choose with a small print run supplemented by on-demand printing, years before that became The Thing To Do. I didn't print the genre on the book itself because, honestly, I thought of it simply as "fiction." Then I started noticing some troubling things.

Amazon had tagged the book "Christian fiction" until I wrote to them and pointed out that it featured a rabbi, who was rather obviously not Christian. They didn't have a "Jewish fiction" tag back then. (They do now.) Barnes & Noble was shelving it in the "Christian Fiction" section of the bookstore, where it wasn't getting noticed, or was getting passed over because it wasn't, well, Christian.

Around the same time, a publishing organization of which I was a member offered an educational meeting about choosing the right genre. I figured maybe it was time to give this another look. The meeting was a presentation by a bookseller, a book reviewer, and a librarian. I had the opportunity to talk to them about my book. I gave them a copy to look through. They did, and discussed it among themselves.

When they called me back, they said they'd unanimously agreed: Destined to Choose was, in the

Photo: Derek Bruff

broadest terms, a mystery. More specifically, it was a suspense, but bookstores didn't have suspense sections. They all agreed it should be marketed as a mystery.

"But there's no murder," I countered. "Nobody even dies."

"Not all mysteries have to have a murder," the book reviewer told me. "This clearly has suspense elements: finding the teenage runaway, then what all is going on in the rabbi's life, and then especially everything leading up to the crisis with the teenager. That's suspense."

The bookseller nodded. "I'd shelve this in the store in the mystery section."

The librarian nodded with the other two. "What they said. It's not a murder mystery, but it's still within the genre."

I thanked them for their time and consideration and started marketing Destined to Choose as a suspense novel. I also started thinking about the rest of the series.

My idea for the series was pretty general. I knew I wanted to pair each novel with a Jewish holiday, finding intriguing ties between the plot and the holiday. I knew I wanted to deal with big issues: the existence and role of evil in the world, hatred and intolerance, family violence. I knew that each book would be partly from David's point of view and partly from others' points of view. I knew that I was less interested in a whodunit and far more interested in a whydunit.

But I hadn't plotted out all of the books in the series. I didn't have a whole-series story arc. Some might say that I should have had all of that in place before I published Destined to Choose, but if I'd waited until my series plan was clear, then the publishing company—if it ever got launched—wouldn't have been around to publish other authors' books. Many debut authors and two veteran authors wouldn't have the award-winning books that Yotzeret published. The timing might not have benefited me, but it definitely benefited others. Who am I to say that wasn't part of the Big Cosmic Plan?

Photo: Stuart Anthony

Years passed while I raised very young children and published others' books. I worked slowly on Strength to Stand. Several traumatic life experiences changed me and how I see both myself and the world. My writing developed and changed as I did. I wanted to challenge myself as a writer. I wanted to stop hiding in fear of what others thought. I became willing to write controversial material. Strength to Stand took on a different shape. It became darker. Edgier.

Strength to Stand was, once again, the book that was in me. The book I wanted to read. But ten years had passed and I was a different person. I was a different kind of author. The characters remained the same, but I was willing to put them in more difficult circumstances. I stopped playing nice.

There's now a sort of dichotomy between the first two books in the same series.

Readers who hear about Strength to Stand and are drawn to the thriller nature of it will quite possibly be disappointed by Destined to Choose. Readers who loved the almost-cozy-mystery aspect of Destined to Choose might find Strength to Stand too dark or too violent. Readers who love books that make them think and feel might well enjoy both.

The third book, No One to Fear, is even darker and more violent. It's a no-holds-barred thriller with a whodunit element. If Destined to Choose was rated PG, Strength to Stand would be PG-13, and No One to Fear will most certainly be rated R. It's the book that's in me and I won't apologize for being who I am.

If you're like me, you like (or need) to read a series in order. For many—some may even argue most—series, all the books are going to fall in the same genre. If the first book is a cozy mystery, so will be the second and fifth and tenth books. If the first is a thriller, you're not going to get a romantic comedy thrown in the mix. Those are arbitrary rules that someone made up about book series. Rules can be broken.

Ultimately, the Rabbi David Cohen series is about the stuff of life that enters David's realm, his arena, so to speak. It's the could-actually-happen events that real people deal with, where life—quality of or length of—hangs in the balance. Sometimes that stuff of life is harsh and unforgiving, dark and violent. Sometimes it requires thought and finesse and subtlety.

Photo: Karola Riegler

I invite you to join me on this journey with David and Sara, Batya and Arik, Eli and others as they deal with this stuff of life—the good, the bad, and the ugly—no matter what labels the genre folks would like to slap on it. Let go of your expectations that every book in this series be a thriller or a mystery or a whatever, and enjoy them for what they have to offer: a story that makes you think and feel about life and the world around you.

The Ups and Downs of Being an Author OR Check Your Ego at the Door

Be careful what you ask for, the saying goes, because you might just get it. That can be a problem.

The problem isn't getting what you want. The problem is that once you have what you want, you want something different, something more.

In an author's world, there is no such thing as enough. There's always the next book, the next review, the next reader, the next appearance, the next award, the next book contract. Sure, some few lucky writers have more than they ever could have dreamed of in royalty income. Their award shelf is sagging with the weight of having won every award given in their genre. Some might call that enough. But no true writer I know of has ever finished writing a book and said, "Okay, I'm done now. No more books."

There's always another book. Which means there's always more reviews, sales, signings, award submissions. There's always a new opportunity to succeed. Or fail. Most authors do some of both.

This past May, I was feeling pretty down, coming off the temporary high of seeing interior and cover files for Strength to Stand go off to the printer. This book was a long time in coming. I'd finished most of the book by 2006, with the exception of one scene that my editor wasn't buying. The manuscript languished as I put all my efforts into my day job and my kids. Years passed, and while I felt the pull to return to that manuscript, it wasn't until a good friend prodded me into rewriting that one scene, late in October 2014, that I finally picked up the mantle of author again.

I was a writing machine for two months, the book coming together seamlessly. In January 2015, it was back in my editor's hands. By April, Advance Reading Copies (ARCs) were being prepared, and by May, I was four chapters into writing book 3 (No One to Fear) in the series. And then I did the Bad Thing. The Bad Thing that authors should never do if they want to keep their sanity. (No, not that one. The other Bad Thing.)

I compared myself to other authors.

I was skimming through Facebook and seeing posts from fellow author friends, some struggling with their work in progress (WIP), some also anticipating a new release in the fall, and then others who were awash in good news—every few days a glowing review or the announcement of an award won.

If you've ever compared yourself to someone whose life's work is somehow related to yours, you know the inevitable outcome: when you compare yourself to others, you always, always lose. I am now convinced that authors should only ever compare their current work to their work from at least a year ago. No one else's. Ever.

But the book industry thrives on comparison. "If you like x author, you'll like y author." The various bestsellers lists are all about ranking sales, and if you know anything about the book industry, you know that sales are not a factor of how good the book is. Rather, sales are a measure of how effective and broad the marketing campaign was (hint: $$$). But any author who is deemed a "bestselling author" will claim the title without asking any questions, and they certainly won't ask if they're now a bestselling author because of the quality of their work or because a well-timed publicity campaign followed by a few Goodreads giveaways happened to go viral and it could have happened to anyone.

And then there are awards. The ultimate in comparison. Awards are supposedly an objective ranking of the best books in any given genre. But even this is suspect. Awards judges have biases, including sometimes a bias against Jewish books, no matter how well they're written, or a bias against small presses, no matter how beautiful and professional the book appears.

In the space of one week on Facebook, I watched no fewer than three authors, whom I knew personally, receive highly prestigious awards nominations, win other highly prestigious awards, and receive amazing reviews in some of the most highly regarded media, all for their debut novels.

I felt sure my book, which wouldn't even be out for another five months, was doomed to fail.

I wrote an impassioned note to an authors' group in which I'm active, hoping for some comfort or support: "I'm finding that as I'm seeing all the awards nominations and the photos from conventions, reading about new book deals and bestseller lists, I'm happy for those involved, and it's also kicking into overdrive my tendency to compare myself to others, in which I always lose.

It's hard sometimes to remember that I write the books that are in me, in my soul, not the books in someone else. I don't write for the purpose of winning awards or making a bestseller list, though both would be welcome acknowledgments.

I'm learning to focus on my own writing, on being true to that part of me that MUST put words to paper, reminding myself that I'm me and you're you and there's no need to compare. And yet..."

The responses were as expected: Yep, that's life. Keep on writing. Me too. One author posted a blog article on writer envy. I didn't want to admit this was what I felt.

Another well-published author sent me an email in response, and managed to hit the nail on the head, saying their reaction was twofold: happiness, on the one hand, for these other authors' successes because they deserved them, and a mixture of hurt, despair, and even anger, that after years of writing and being published, they still didn't see the level of acknowledgment these other authors were now enjoying.

That was exactly it. I was thrilled for my author friends, who were finding such success (and with their first novel!), and at the same time, there was a little voice inside asking, "But what about me?"

Ten days later, I learned experientially that I should be careful what I ask for.

Ten days later, Destined to Choose, my first book, the one that was first published back in 2003, which was re-released as a tenth-anniversary edition in 2013, was named a National Indie Excellence Award finalist. Kindle sales of Destined to Choose spiked and it ranked #1 in the Kindle store under Jewish literature. Back on the authors' group, I felt like eating crow.

Sometimes we human beings learn best by experiencing what we need to learn. And often times, especially for the hard lessons, the Universe decides to teach us also through repetition. So it was with me, though whether that's because it was a hard lesson or because I have a hard head remains to be seen.

By the end of May, about 180 ARCs had been sent out to reviewers, bloggers, magazines, newspapers, and journals. I figured by August, I'd start seeing reviews. August 15th came with nary a review, and not knowing where to turn, I emailed my publicist, trusting her experience and trying hard not to whine.

"Oh, who knows?" my publicist said, adding that many reviewers shoot for publishing reviews closer to a book's pub date (in this case, September 1st), so I may see more in September. Some may hold on to reviews until late fall, since the book takes place during Chanukah, and then they could review it as a "Chanukah book." (It isn't, really, but I could see the point.) In any event, she instructed me to keep working on those things I could control, check in with some of the places to which ARCs had been submitted, and let the rest go.

A trusted advisor pointed out to me that, really, I'd already received reviews in the form of blurbs. They were all fantastic. No one said, "Sorry, I can't blurb this; I didn't care for this book." The same advisor asked me what I felt about this book.

"I love it," I said. "I think it's a better book than the first one, though I'm loving book 3 even more than the second one."

"Isn't it a sign of growth as a writer that each successive book is better than the one before it?" she asked.

"Yes. It's when the first one is spectacular and the second one tanks that you have a problem."

"And you love Strength to Stand?"

I had to separate out my own feelings from what I'd taken in from others. "I do," I said.

"Then there you go."

I'd gotten myself to the point where, even if no one else reviewed Strength to Stand, I still believed in it. I still loved it. I was coming to understand that reviews didn't define my book, and they certainly didn't define me. I could live with that.

And then this morning, I received an email with a link to a review of Strength to Stand, which reads in part: "Sheyna Galyan offers a sophisticated blend of insight and entertainment; suitably complex, flawed, and yet commendable characters; well-developed action and suspense; and an authoritative rendering of synagogue-centered Jewish life. This is a very fine book group selection and teaching text." The review will appear in the fall issues of three publications in Florida.

Okay, I get it, Universe. Really. Do I have to eat crow again?

Please join my street team!

I'm looking for a few good people. Or maybe a lot of good people. I'm looking to form a "street team," a roving gang of readers who can do things I can't for David, Sara, Batya, Arik, and the rest of the folks in the series. Here's how it works:

What you get:

Your very own ARC (advance reading copy) to read and enjoy

Unfettered access to me (Sheyna) via email and, if enough people are on Facebook, a Facebook group

My undying gratitude

Gifts, giveaways, and discounts at my discretion (only available to street team members)

A chance to be a part of something bigger

What you need to do:

• Read the ARC. Note that there are errors in it. I'm aware of them, which will be corrected before the final printing.
• Do as many of the following FREE things as you can:
  • Post about Strength to Stand on social media (Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Shelfari, BookLikes, The Reading Room, etc.)
  • Review it on Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Library Thing (Goodreads is available now; others may not be available until closer to the on-sale date)
  • Talk about it in Goodreads groups
  • Include my book in a photograph of you or a friend. BONUS: post the photo on Instagram
  • Ask your local bookstores to order it (they can pre-order), and if you go on vacation, ask bookstores at your destination to order it
  • If you see my book at a bookstore, tell the owner/manager what you love about it—they might not have read it and aren't familiar with it
  • Ask your local libraries to order it (and libraries at any vacation spot you might be at) and tell the librarian about it, and why you like it
  • Tell any book clubs you know about it
  • Ask your local book clubs, synagogues, churches, or other organizations to carry it in their gift shop (if applicable) and consider having me do a presentation, reading, and/or signing
  • Let me know if you see any good reviews, or post about them and tag me
  • Take a photo of my book in a bookstore and post it (and tag me) or send it to me and I'll post it (it's good publicity for the bookstore too)
  • Vote for Strength to Stand as one of your favorite books on any contests, especially through social media
  • "Like" my author page on Facebook if you haven't already, and encourage your friends to do the same. BONUS: Click on "get notifications" (hover over "liked") so you know when I post something
  • Comment on (don't just "like") my posts, which gives those posts greater visibility to others
  • Share my Facebook posts
  • Follow me on Twitter (@sheynagalayn) and retweet my tweets. Encourage your friends to do the same
  • Encourage your friends to sign up for this newsletter
  • Add me to your Google+ circles
  • Talk to me about my book when you see me (I don't get sick of it, really)
  • Follow my blog (Books and Beliefs)
  • Come to my launch party, either in person or my virtual launch party on Facebook
  • Attend my in-person or virtual events. There's nothing more disheartening than going to a signing and having no one show up
  • Write about my book or series, or interview me for your own blog, or ask me to do a guest post for your blog
  • Tell all of your friends
• Do any of the following not-free things if you can:
  • Pre-order my book
  • Buy copies to give as gifts
  • Buy copies and donate them to fundraising auctions
  • Buy a copy to donate to your synagogue or church library (if applicable)

That's it! Unless you think of more things, and then by all means, please do them. And let me know what you did, because I may add it to my list. 

Remember, authors don't make much money from book sales, and believe it or not, small publishers don't make much either. If everyone bought books on Amazon or at bookstores, I would make $0.80 per book in royalties, so I need to sell A LOT of books to afford to travel to signings, give out author swag, and bring in money to the household so I can work on Book 3. The only way to sell A LOT of books is to have a lot of buzz and word-of-mouth publicity. That's where YOU come in! 

If you'd like to join my street team, just email me at sheyna@sheynagalyan.com. Or if you're on Facebook, go to  https://www.facebook.com/groups/RabbiDavidCohenMysteries/and request to join.

Just before Rosh Hashanah I wrote about my aversion to blanket "if I've hurt you, please forgive me" statements as a method of teshuvah (which technically means "return" but is often used to mean repentance, as in a return to G-d). I am not alone.

Maimonides first outlined the steps of teshuvah, steps that one must go through to fully return, whether the thing you're asking forgiveness for is between you and G-d or between you and another person. But I'm not going to talk about that. I'm going to let Bev and Sara talk, in this excerpt from Strength to Stand:

    Sara watched from her peripheral vision as Eli approached David and then led him out of the house, the look on her husband’s face like that of a boy about to be taken out to the woodshed. The door closed behind them and she let out a deep breath. Maybe Eli could pound some sense into him.

    She stood and stretched, then set the book down on the sofa and went to the kitchen. “Okay, put me to work,” she said to Bev.

    “Uh uh,” Bev said, shaking her head and chopping a head of broccoli into smaller florets and collecting them in a bowl. “I cook tonight. You relax. Don’t think I don’t know who’s been keeping us in clean towels all week.” She stopped and looked at Sara. “Or you can stay here and keep me company.”

    “I can do that.”

    “Good.” Bev returned to her chopping. “You want to tell me what happened Shabbat morning?”

    “Not really.”

    Bev reached for a scrubbed carrot and began slicing it on the diagonal, creating long, thin strips. “Okay. You want to tell me why David’s been in the doghouse for three days?”

    Sara picked up a broccoli floret that had fallen on the counter and put it in the bowl with the others. “There are five steps to forgiveness in Judaism, right?”

    Still slicing carrots, Bev looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I thought there were three.”

    “David gave a sermon this past fall about forgiveness—teshuvah. I remember he was nervous that it sounded too preachy, which I thought was kind of funny. It all tied into a bigger picture about how we need to make teshuvah for ourselves, not only for the person we’ve wronged, how forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting, and how not forgiving can keep us from moving forward in our lives. He really put a lot of himself into that sermon.”

    “It sounds like it.”

    “He worked on writing it for over a month. As good a speaker as he is, he gets anxious about the High Holy Days and actually starts practicing, like he’s in speech class all over again. I must have heard that sermon a dozen times.” She stared at the growing mound of sliced carrots. “I wish he’d done a little less practice delivering it and a little more practice doing it.”

    “Hasn’t he apologized?”

    Sara ticked the steps off on her fingers. “According to his sermon, first you have to recognize that you did something wrong. Then you have to decide you’re not going to do it again. Third, you confess what you did and fourth, go to the person you wronged and apologize. And last, you take steps to keep it from happening again.”

    Bev stopped slicing and wiped her hands on the white dishtowel hanging from the oven handle. She looked at Sara. “Okay. I think when I learned it, one and two were combined and three and four were combined. So why is David still in trouble?”

    “He did apologize. He admitted he wasn’t listening to me with an open mind and that he rejected anything I said that wasn’t already in his perception of how things should be regarding the shul and my role in it. But we never resolved it. I’m waiting in limbo, and since he seems to think that my forgiveness will solve everything and we can go back to being a happy family without ever addressing my needs, I’m not ready to forgive him yet. How can I if the problem that started it all is still there and still unsettled?”

    Bev sliced a jicama in half and set one half-sphere aside. “You need to give him a chance to redeem himself, Sara. Maybe he needs your forgiveness before he can consider your needs without a guilty conscience.”

    “Maybe. But it would be much easier for me to forgive him if I knew we’d work toward a solution. Right now I’m afraid if I forgive him, he’ll think things are all better and we’ll never address my role. Or worse, we’ll wind up repeating Saturday night.”

    “You might have to tell him exactly that,” Bev said, stripping the fibrous brown peel off the turnip-like vegetable. “He may be able to recite the steps of teshuvah backwards and forwards and upside down, but Sara, he’s a man. The male brain sometimes needs to hear these things explicitly stated. And occasionally repeated. Slowly.”

    Sara laughed. “I guess I was hoping it was as clear to him as it is to me.” She watched Bev slice the jicama into half-inch wide shavings. “What do you think Eli’s saying to him?”

Bev pursed her lips. “Oh, I don’t know. They have a really deep friendship. Well, you know that better than I do. Eli doesn’t have any really close friends in Spokane. He has lots of distant friends, and I mean lots. But his nickname for David—when he calls him ‘bro’—he doesn’t take that lightly. He’ll do right by him.”

    “Eema?”

    Sara turned toward the voice. Jonathan was standing in the dining room, looking forlorn, a clump of orange Play-Doh in his hair and smaller bits clinging to his clothes. She managed to stifle a laugh. “You need some help cleaning up, Jonathan?”

    “Judy did it. She didn’t like that I poked a hole in her turtle so she smooshed it on my head. She got a little off the plastic you put down, too.”

    “And why did you poke a hole in her turtle?” Sara asked calmly.

    Jonathan shifted his feet. “’Cause she took all the orange and I got green. She says orange is a girl color and green is a boy color, but I like orange better.”

    “Does that make it okay to destroy something of hers?”

    “No.” Jonathan hung his head. “But if she gave me the orange like I asked, then I wouldn’t have gotten mad. It’s her fault her turtle got a hole.”

    Sara glanced at Bev. “Time to put that first step of teshuvah to work.”