Why I Bring Authors and Readers Together

Tomorrow is a good example: please come!

Okay, so why do I care?

Why do I spend hours prepping for podcasts and live events every week?

Why, as I waited for my flight to L.A. at the crack of dawn this morning, did I spend almost two hours making visuals to showcase the authors’ books (and children’s book authors) who will be signing at Zibby’s Bookshop tomorrow for Indie Bookstore Day!? And then reposting them all after I realized I’d gotten the date wrong just as my flight was taking off?

Because I want you all to get to know authors, fall in love with their books, get the behind-the-scenes, feel invested, and then feel like your lives have improved as a result. Too big a goal?

I want you to catch the joy of reading if you haven’t already, even though our days are so full and everything else seems more important. (Even while trying to write this, I’ve been interrupted like 1,000 times.)

I want to publish books that make you feel like you have more of a roadmap for how to squeeze as much joy out of life as possible. I want to sell books at my bookstore that delight you for hours and that you read into the wee hours of the night — because isn’t that the best feeling?

It’s simple, really. I want to share my joy with everyone else.

When I post about a book or an upcoming event or something, I’m not doing it under any sort of obligation or duress.

When I decide to have an author on my podcast, I do so after wading through a bazillion books to find the ones that, for whatever reason, I think you deserve to know more about. I pick books for book club that I hope will turn you from a reader into a fan. I host events where you can all get to know each other and connect over something positive when there is so much horrific stuff in the world. Stuff that might come before and after my post in your feed. I want what I put out into the world to inspire you in some way.

Why do I care about the happiness of strangers? Well, as I like to say, no two people who have read the same book are really strangers.

But really, I don’t know. I guess it’s because I feel like I’ve truly learned how short life is after significant losses in my own life and those losses make me think about living - and dying - all the time, so I can hopefully make what comes in between, that short, sweet ride, as pleasurable as possible. And I want to share the secret with you, too.

I could be kicking it. Relaxing on a beach somewhere. But I’ve chosen to spend my forties creating. Building. Communicating. Listening. It comes at my own personal expense in every way — my escalated stress level, tiredness, and many things we all contend with in midlife. But my investment in the importance of what I’m doing feels completely worth it.

When the fires were still blazing in L.A., I was so distraught and consumed that I could barely focus on everything else. I looked at all the books on my shelf in frustration. None of them were helping.

I walked from my office to lunch at my apartment, as my team does as a group three times a week, and said to Graca, “Do you think I’ll ever care about books again?”

“Yes,” she said. “Because you’ve always cared about books. And this terrible time will pass.”

She was right. Not that L.A. has recovered or that any of us have, but that books quickly became a refuge again. I want everyone to have that refuge.

I put a lot of content out there — and I’ve been consumed by Instagram lately as the algorithm has shifted and now the platform highlights video versus words and photos.

If you’re someone who follows me on Instagram, do me a favor: like any post that the platform actually shows you. Just click the heart to let me know you’ve seen it. That I didn’t completely waste my time making it. If you really like a post, forward it to someone. Bookmark it. Do I know where it goes once you bookmark it? Not clue. But I know that the more you engage with my posts — commenting, liking, bookmarking, sharing — the more people will see them.

Sometimes I feel completely frustrated. No one is liking my posts! No one wants to come to x, y, z event! No one is….

But I know you’re all out there. And yes, perhaps I need more external reinforcement than most, but I really just want to know you’re hearing what I’m shouting about from the rooftops. I want to know that when I spend weeks planning something for you, you’ll come! When I put together lists or launch things to help, you’ll take advantage of them! When I publish a book I think you’ll love, you’ll read it or at least give it a chance.

I already get the benefits. I interview authors and feel like I’ve learned something or read something great every day. I only then publicize it all to help you. That’s all. As a service. Something I think will help.

If you think there are people out there who could use a boost, forward them my content. Invite them to events. Share my socials. That’s how we make change. One person to another.

Will you join me on my mission to help everyone else through books, conversations, and connection?

Spread the word. Let’s put good stuff into a sometimes terrible world. Let’s unite and not divide. Let’s celebrate and not just mourn. Let’s laugh through tears, pump each other up, and stop putting each other down. It feels good to help. If for no other reason, do it for that.

Sending love.

Zibby