On AuthorCon V & Networking Etiquette

Photo, from left: Jamie Flanagan, James Sabata, and yours truly

This blog post needs to start with thanks. I appreciate, so much, that I got a chance to spend time with dear friends, and to meet readers, and to talk books, and to be just plain silly for a long weekend. Thank you to James Sabata for the invitation and to Scott Bradley and D.M. Guay and Jamie Flanagan for all the Spirited Giving magic; thank you to the con organizers and volunteers and charity coordinators, especially Brian Keene and Joe Ripple and Jake Lerner; thank you to all the attendees; thank you to all my fellow panelists and performers and to the staff at the Doubletree Hilton in Williamsburg, VA (and especially Regan and Chris!). Thank you to Sam Rebelein and Vin for being great tablemates (and for doing math for me). Thank you to all the lovely people I met. Thank you to readers and to folks who bought my books and folks who gave me or sold me their books. Thank you to everyone who helped us raise money for Scares That Care by putting cash in our jar to take pictures with us… I mean, with the twins from The Shining.

One of the panels I had the privilege of joining was on networking etiquette–what to do and not do, both online and in person at events (cons, readings, signings, etc.). This topic is important to me because I have some very strong feelings about it–the first being that I don’t really care for the word “networking.” It has, for me, the connotation of being shallow, self-serving, and fake, though the word’s denotation is more respectable, and hearkens back to (what I think are) its origins: it’s a chance to “work the net” with others–the way fishermen (and -women and -people) did for years. With many hands weaving and tying, together, these folks made one another’s nets bigger, and they mended any holes in the nets. While they sat around mending, they also talked, and got to know each other, and told one another stories of their trials and travels. I bet they laughed a lot, and sometimes cried together.

I use the term “community building” because that is what I’m doing at these events and online, with other writers and readers. It’s why I’m writing this blog post–to be helpful, and to help new writers (and seasoned writers) avoid some of the mistakes I’ve made, and that I’ve seen others make, often innocently or at least unknowingly.

The panel could have gone on longer this past weekend–I had three pages of notes (I’m a gal who brings notes). And while we covered a few topics, we had to (understandably) leave a lot on the table.

So I am writing this, now, to not only cover some of those things, but to reiterate the good points my fellow panelists (Joseph Pesavento: moderator, Rebecca Rowland, Robert Swartwood, Shane McKenzie, B.C. Lienesch, and John Lynch) made. I’ll number them to stay organized.

Know why you are there. People come to conventions and other live events for many reasons. I came to help with a charity event (Spirited Giving) happening at AuthorCon V, to be silly and raise money with my friend (see photo), to spend time with the friends I already had (and miss), to talk to readers about books, to perhaps sell some books (I did!) and to meet other authors who do the thing I do. Yes, there were famous people there. Yes, I said hello to some of them. But, though I am, at times, a fangirl, fangirling wasn’t my intention for the weekend (though I hope I was as polite and respectful and appreciative as I meant to be–these are folks who succeeded at the very thing I am doing, and I look up to them as experts).
Mind your substance consumption. If you like to have a few social cocktails (or whatever), cool, but keep it at that. (This is a mistake I’ve made–not trying to be a hypocrite here!) I have learned that events are way more fun if you know, for a fact, that you didn’t say or do anything you’d be embarrassed about later. Lots of folks get carried away at these things, having fun with their friends, but as my smart pal James Sabata said, if you wouldn’t do something around the coworkers at your day job, don’t do it around your colleagues at a convention. It’s still a professional space.
Say thank you. Say thank you to everyone, all the time. Thank the host. Thank panel attendees and your fellow panelists and your moderator. Thank everyone who buys a book from you–thank everyone who even stops to look at your books or to chat with you. Thank the people from whom YOU buy books, or who give you books or swag. Etc. etc. The old adage applies: “Please” and “thank you” go an awful long way, and actually BEING grateful makes you feel kind of amazing.
It’s okay to introduce yourself. Sometimes I forget this–I feel shy, or I can’t remember if we’ve met before so don’t want to sound silly, or I don’t want to interrupt the conversation happening. But it’s okay to just wave or offer to shake hands and say “Hi, my name is Rebecca. I don’t think we’ve met,” or, “Hi, I’m Rebecca, and I think we’ve met but I’m not certain.” That one is still a struggle for me, but I’m working on it.
If you see someone sitting alone, invite them to your table or to your conversation. But if they say no, thanks, they’re alright, leave it at that. They may be purposefully taking a few minutes to themself, because sensory overload is a definite challenge at a big convention, or they are centering themself for something they are about to do–a reading or a panel or something like that.
You don’t have to meet everyone every single time. It’s fine to say hello, or not, to the bigwigs in your genre. It’s okay to admire from across the room. If you have an opportunity and want to take it, that’s great. Tell them you admire a certain book or story or script–be specific–introduce yourself, and then let them get back to the event. They’re busy and you don’t want to monopolize their time. And if you don’t have an opportunity to meet them, or if you are too shy, or if it feels awkward, let it go. If they are having a closed conversation with their friends, definitely let it go. Remind yourself that it’s possible you’ll get a chance someday in the future to meet them. Overall, remember they are human. They get tired. They get overwhelmed. They get frazzled. They can’t be “on” all the time, nor should we expect them to be.
Don’t prairie-dog. Some people have a cruder term for this, which rhymes with “jar-lucking,” but I won’t use it here. This is the unfortunate behavior I’ve seen exhibited many times whereby lesser-known authors or fans constantly pop their heads up to look around for the most famous person in the room, and make a beeline to them. And then they do it again, leaving that conversation if someone more famous walks in. And then they do it again, and again, and…you get the point. It’s tacky behavior and no one appreciates that kind of attention.
Don’t mix networking with dating. Yes, some people meet at conventions and fall in love and live happily ever after. And that is nice. But most folks there are there to talk books and readings, not to find a bed-warmer for the night. Also, other people notice more than you may think they notice, and you might not want your personal “interactions” to become public gossip.
Give the grace you get. This applies bottom to top. You forget people’s names, so don’t be annoyed or offended if someone forgets yours. If someone doesn’t remember your book’s exact title or cover or publisher, again, it’s not personal, and it happens to all of us. If someone needs to politely excuse themself from a conversation, say thanks and you hope they have a good night–because sometimes you need to politely excuse yourself, too. This applies to reading early review copies and writing blurbs and leaving reviews, too. Our good intentions are always going to outpace our capabilities. If someone thought they could help you and then couldn’t, well, take a look at how high your own TBR pile is before you get bitter about it.
Support others, but do it genuinely. It’s the easiest thing, online, to hit the “share” button to help someone spread good news or promote their work. Share the posts of the successful people you admire, yes, but also share the posts of your peers and of people just starting out. If you have three more seconds, tell them “Congratulations” or “Very cool!” in the comments section. At events, tell readers and panelists they did well, and sincerely compliment what you liked about their performance or presentation. Don’t try to flatter or “kiss up” or gush (or whatever you want to call it) for the purposes of furthering yourself or your reputation. It’s transparently fake and no one is fooled by it, and you will only succeed in making people feel icky.
Have a few conversational questions ready. This one comes from Jamie Flanagan. Instead of running up to people and saying “I love you!” and then going mute with embarassment (did I kind of do that to Jennifer McMahon in an elevator a few years ago? I did), have a few questions ready. They can be simple and should be appropriate. Examples: “What are you working on now?” (For writers.) “What genres do you like to read?” (For readers.) “What’s a good book you’ve read lately?” (For anyone.)
At all costs, avoid public arguments, tantrums, and meltdowns. I don’t have to explain that one.

In summary, be polite to all, and be genuinely kind to anyone with whom you have interactions. If you meet people you admire, be careful not to linger if they are busy or perhaps looking a bit tired. Tell them what you love about their work and then let them get back to their activities. And don’t make every social encounter a transaction, seeing folks only as untapped resources for you to use.

I could go on and on, but for now, for what I wanted to talk about on my panel, for the smart things others said, for what I have noticed around me at many an event, I think that does it! Feel free to comment with anything I missed.

April 1, 2025 1

What NOT to say to publishers or editors on social media

I’m writing this post because of comments I have seen recently on social media in response to publishers’ “open submissions” announcements. Of course I will not name names–it’s not a burn post. But many of us have had to learn the submissions process the hard way, and I hope this post will help folks avoid the mistakes I’ve seen and the mistakes I’ve made myself. Now I can’t cover every faux pas here, and most publishers will absolutely overlook small mistakes and mixups. (Like, if someone wrote to “Undertaker Press” by mistake rather than “Undertaker Books,” no biggie.) Here are a few things to try to avoid, though, with some tips on what to say or do instead.

Do not announce yourself like a boxer jogging into the ring.

This imagery comes to you courtesy of Heather Daughrity of Watertower Hill Publishing and Parlor Ghost Press. It’s the perfect analogy for what I have seen on these social media posts and in emails I’ve gotten as an editor.

Some authors, before even mentioning their current project or submission, feel they need to yell through a megaphone, often exaggerating their accomplishments, and generally putting their ego first. Not a good look, I promise you.

The place for information about you is in a short, factual, third-person bio paragraph you would include in a cover letter/email with your submission. Stress on “short.” (And do not put it on social media in a comment on a publisher’s post.) Start that paragraph with a personal note about yourself and follow it up with a few publications/accolades and then where folks can find more information about you (hopefully, your author website).

2. Do not beg, grovel, put yourself/your work down, or share a sob story.

Be friendly, confident, and at least a little bit professional. I have seen statements in the comments section like “I have a book that is like Star Wars meets Anne of Green Gables but you probably wouldn’t want to read it.” Problems: zero confidence makes me think it’s probably not that good, but also, you made up my mind for me, which is kinda rude and presumptuous. So let’s revise that. It would be much better if the person said something like: “I have a novel manuscript ready that could be described as a mashup of Star Wars and Anne of Green Gables. Beta readers have told me it’s a fun read and not like anything else they’ve read. If you’d like to take a look, I’ll send it along.” Of course, only say that if it’s true.

Other cringeworthy comments, which of course I’m paraphrasing/imitating:

“Wow I’m so glad to see this sub call. I haven’t had anything published in over a year because I had to move and then my cat died and I lost my job. I wanted to self-publish but I never really got around to it and I thought I’d never write another thing but hey, I could send something to you!” (TMI, and a weird vibe right away; might also signal to the editor, rightly or wrongly, that you would be difficult to work with and/or clingy.) Instead, how about “This looks like a great submission call and I have something that would fit. I’m excited to send it!”

“Oh cool I love your books! You put out the best books in the industry and I tell everyone you’re the best! Publishing with you would be a dream come true and would be the best thing that ever happened to me!” (Even if that is totally true, it SOUNDS like corny flattery. Compliments are appreciated, but in moderation.) Instead, try “You put out great books and have an impressive reputation. I’m definitely sending you something!”

3. Try not to ask questions in the comments section that could be answered by the publisher’s post itself or by a quick look at their website or social media.

Comments in this category of “Please No” are “What kind of submissions do you want?” (That will be in the post or on the website.) “What books have you published?” (Go to the website.) “Who else has books with you?” (Again, go to the website.)

It is absolutely fine and great to ask questions. Just make sure the questions you are asking can’t be answered by a one-minute review of the post or a quick website search. And, of course, since we all miss things that are right in front of our faces (because I have done this a million times), when you realize your goof, offer a quick apology. “Sorry! That was right in the post. My bad!” Editors and publishers are humans too. But you want them to know you don’t take their time and attention for granted.

4. Do not say rude things.

I cannot count the times I have seen absolute rudeness in response to publishers’ submissions calls: “Why would I even submit to you? You’re a joke.” “My work is worth money. Recognition doesn’t pay my bills!” “You aren’t a professional magazine if you don’t pay writers!”

Lordy. This is one of those “Don’t like it? Keep scrolling” situations. It’s true that editors/publishers should announce whether or not it’s a paying publication. But when it does not pay, or when the payment is token, don’t be nasty, and don’t assume every other writer out there has the same publication goals you do. A friend of mine submits work to non-paying calls, because he’s just trying to meet other authors and folks in the industry, and get his name out there. I have submitted to non-paying calls because the publication’s theme is really cool, or I like what they put out, or it’s for a charity I care about , or because I know the editor to be great, or because I know that publisher submits authors’ work for awards like the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Maybe a writer is just starting out, and getting a story or poem in a non-paying publication would mean the world to them. Do what you want to do, submit or don’t, but keep the vitriol to yourself.

“I’d never submit work to you! You’ve published [author I hate/author who has behaved badly]!”

Okay. I know this is a tricky one. But think before you type.

It could be that yes, a publisher has put out a book by someone who acted badly. We’ve seen it all too often in the horror community. But when did they put out the book? Was it BEFORE the author in question was known to be a jerk? Could the contract have been signed before that point? Contracts are legal documents, and before you type an angry comment to this here post lemme ask you: Are you a lawyer? A judge? If not, still those itchy fingers. Some publishers have what is often called a “behavior clause.” This usually means that, should an author behave badly, in any number of ways, the publisher can immediately cease production of their book and the contract is void. But if a publisher does NOT have this clause, they may be stuck with that author and that book, at least for the duration of the contract, which can range from six months to several years.

Here’s something else that a lot of righteously angry people won’t want to hear: People change. PEOPLE CHANGE. They are capable of personal growth, and learning, and repentance, and behavioral correction. It’s possible that a person did or said something terrible a long time ago, and has since become a better person. (This applies to like, non-felonies, of course–I’m not saying you should forgive every murderer and assaulter out there.) There is an expression I love: “When you know better, do better.” I’m not going to hate anyone because of something they said 20 years ago. I’m sure that I myself said horrible things 20 years ago, when I was young and ignorant and sheltered. I’m sorry for all of them, even the ones I don’t remember saying (because alcohol and I were way too close in my 20s). So I will give people the grace that I hope to receive. People. Change.

I’m going to stop there. Happy posting and happy commenting, everyone.

July 23, 2024 0

Why no author account?

Why I choose not to create separate author accounts on social media

(Picture: This is me, circa 2020, hanging out with Ra, one of the shelter dogs at the place where I volunteer. He loved to cuddle and weighed about 90 pounds.)

I definitely understand why many authors choose to create separate profiles for their writerly selves on social media. For one, many authors write under pen names, so having only personal accounts wouldn’t make any sense–fans and readers couldn’t find them! Some writers have concerns about privacy for safety’s sake, or because their bosses wouldn’t be cool with what they publish. Another reason is that people share family pictures and other “close circle” content on their personal accounts, and to them it doesn’t feel appropriate to combine those with their posts about books and publications. Still another reason, related of course, has to do with “branding.” And for me, that word opens a can of worms.

My brand is me.

I understand branding and its necessity. I understand wanting to convey to readers what your “vibes” are–what you write, what you like, what your literary aesthetics are. But, several years ago I went through some workplace turbulence and, when things settled down, I realized I could no longer hide aspects of myself, or pretend to be what I’m not, for the sake of someone else’s idea of “professionalism.” Instead I opted for a sort of radical honesty when it came to my representation of self. No masks, no layers, no separation. People could take me for me or not take me at all.

And why can’t authenticity BE a brand, anyway? Why shouldn’t my students and coworkers and editors and readers and childhood friends and gardener friends and writer friends and dog-shelter-volunteer friends and family members get the same version of me?

It can; and, no reason.

It’s all in my writing, anyway.

My poetry collection, In Memory of Exoskeletons, is full of my thoughts and experiences–all very personal. There are poems about my grief over losing my mom as a kid, my own mental health struggles, my love for my husband, my feelings about the way society disregards “women’s work,” how much I love dogs, my garden, body dismorphia, and more.

My memoir and craft text, Creep This Way: How to Become a Horror Writer with 24 Tips to Get You Ghouling, rehashes all of my writerly attempts and failures over the course of the last, oh, twenty years. I admit there that a mean editor made me cry. I recount how terrified I was to go to my first StokerCon. My skeletons don’t live in my closet. They dance around the living room.

Any stranger who reads both of my books will pretty much know everything about me.

My friends are my readers.

Maybe I’ll make national book lists at some point in the future and people far and wide will get used to seeing my name on book covers. But, well, probably not and, even if so, that’s a way’s away. For now and maybe forever, the main readership of my books is made up of my friends and family. All those folks in my personal life. Like, my readers wouldn’t have to look up some interview if they had a question about my work. They could just, you know, text me.

I already can’t keep up with my accounts.

I tried TikTok and failed; deleted the app. I tried SnapChat, and same thing. I’m on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Threads. I have a hard enough time dealing with those–the only place I consistently hang out is Facebook, because that is where all of my work threads and friends threads exist. There’s no way I’m adding professional accounts to that list–it’s already too long.

So, if you want to make separate author or professional accounts, do it, especially if you have privacy or safety concerns. But it’s not mandatory!

May 31, 2024 0