Last Friday, even though I was thrilled to see this wonderful review/feature story on Immigrants come out in our local newspaper, I found myself facing the familiar discomfort of the spotlight. While I did what I knew I was supposed to do as a good book marketer: posting the link widely on social media and sending it around by email, there was a part of myself that just wanted to crawl into a dark place and hide from the rushing current of accolades. Can’t I just be humble? that small inner part of me whined. Why do I have to call so much attention to myself?

I’ve had a love/hate relationship with the spotlight since I was little and wanted to be a Broadway musical star. Then in high school, I think I went for an entire year without raising my hand in class. As an adult, there’s a part of me (who lives with the hider) that loves to perform. I enjoy public speaking (something most people hate) whether I’m reading my work, speaking at a rally, facilitating a gathering or ritual, or presenting in a workshop. I might be a little bit nervous with bigger audiences or unfamiliar contexts, but I’ve been able to quell that by imagining myself *talking to* a body of individuals rather than *speaking at* them. In other words, as I’ve said many times to college students in business communication classes or adult Continuing Ed students in my course, “Public Speaking for the Terrified,” take the “public” out of public speaking and think of the experience as simply speaking to other individuals from your heart on something you care about.

While I certainly care about my writing, and wouldn’t have a problem speaking about it to an audience of 5 or 500, marketing feels like an entirely different animal. For one thing, I’m sending/posting material that people aren’t necessarily asking for and competing with thousands of other people doing exactly the same thing. How can I justify contributing to our daily overwhelm of information overload? And if you ask the marketing gurus of this world, I’m likely not doing nearly enough for my book to make a splash, which is not good news to the perfectionist straight-A schoolgirl who also lives inside me along with the hider and the spotlight-seeker.

But hey, maybe a splash isn’t the goal here. Maybe I can be satisfied with a quiet series of ripples. Really, I just want people to read the book, my way of speaking from the heart on something I care about. If they want to read it, that is. I don’t need or want to be an arm-twister. Life is short. People are busy. We make our choices about what nurtures us.

A friend once told me I should think of all this marketing as an offering or invitation. But when you invite 50 people to a party and only 10 people come, it’s hard not to feel like there’s something wrong with you. Easier not to have the party in the first place, which has often been my fall-back. But with marketing you just have to have the party. And then another party, and another. And some of us just aren’t party-goers no matter how well I might describe the enticing activities or the mouth-watering food.

If there’s a conclusion to all of this, I haven’t found it. Other than to bravely step into the spotlight when it’s shining right beside me, but not worry too much or run too hard when it’s not within my sight or grasp. Hopefully that spotlight’s shining on someone else during those times. Someone who is also speaking from their heart.