I write articles for The Beacon, a local monthly publication for people over fifty. It has a readership of over 30,000. I have been writing for them for years. True, I am a free-lance author, but I’ve heard it said I’m one of their best.
I was hoping that counted for something.
So back in January I gave the publisher my press kit, which included a press release, a brochure, a cover letter and a book. The cover letter advertised the date of my book signing, which is March 3rd. I scheduled it for March 3rd so that the readers of the Beacon would have time to schedule their day, if they were so inclined, to include me in their things to do on that Saturday. The Beacon comes out the first week of the month, so that would have given people a month to decide.
The first week in February I got a copy of The Beacon and began searching for the article they did on me, or at least my press release and the announcement of my book signing.
There was nothing. I went through the paper four times just to be sure. Nothing.
I was crushed. My “friends” had not even bothered with an announcement.
When I got my check for the previous month’s article, the publisher had included a note: “I’m still reading your book. I’m slow.” I guess so. He’s so slow, in fact, that the readers of The Beacon will never know from him when they could have had their signed copy of my book. I was COUNTING on that publication. These, I thought, were FRIENDS.
What do you do when your friends let you down? Well, for a while I felt incredibly betrayed and depressed.
Then I wrote the editor a letter, hoping to voice my displeasure without completely shutting that door. I like writing for The Beacon. But I can’t live within a place of depression either, and still get work done.
I still feel let down. If I dwell on that incident, the depression returns. But I refuse to let them dictate my emotions. I am not a small, insignificant child who is easily crushed. I have grown into a successful author who is tough enough to take life’s punches and move on.
Besides, neither The Beacon nor The Beacon’s publisher is in charge of my career. God is. My Father has reminded me that I have other resources and options. Those are where I need to spend my efforts.