During my recent trip back to the city, I found out how much can be accomplished (and bought) without going into overdraft. No, correction: I DID go into overdraft – but only because I just couldn’t stop myself. Hopefully you’ll behave better than I did.

My nicest surprise was the hotel I treated myself to for a few days. In the past, my preference was always to stay on the Upper West Side. That’s where I lived for many years and it remained my favorite place in Manhattan. Sorry to say, that might have changed. My new love is the Grammercy Park/Flatiron District. Just like Elie, the character in my book – Menopause in Manhattan – I love its bustling atmosphere, variety of stores, beautiful parks and outstanding architecture.

When I decided to slip away to a hotel for a few days I checked out boutique hotels in all of Manhattan. Upper West to Lower East – I was open to everything. I chose Hotel Giraffe, basically because they were so nice – their email back to me could not have been sweeter. And their on-line photos made the place look gorgeous. Well… both impressions were right on. The staff is amazing and the place is truly fabulous. Not over the top or glitzy, not minimalist to the point of being monastic, just well-designed, warm and welcoming. Their website describes them as “a luxurious urban oasis offering a rare balance of excitement and tranquility.” It’s true. From Director of Sales Jayla to Front Desk Manager Asim to the smiling, friendly staff in the lobby serving the buffet breakfast and Cocktail Hour drinks and snacks – they’re all to be commended. It was very hard to leave the Hotel Giraffe.

Although my trip to NYC was to attend the Book Expo America and to promote my newly published book, there was no way I could not give in to the shopping paradise that is New York. How? From the clothes to the electronics to the jewelry to food to great sales to street fairs to street food – it all has to be experienced.

The place for cameras and such? B and H. Don’t even bother with anyplace else. They’re the best.

Costume jewelry? I discovered Stephan & Co. at 2 West 23rd St. Great stuff, inexpensive prices, adorable sales staff.

Handbags/Travel Bags – Although I love my Kipling bag with all its pockets and zippers and compartments, the color is hot pink – and I’m kind of over that. New love? Baggalini! I found them at The Container Store – and on sale! I am so addicted now – strong fabric, plenty of pockets and compartments, great colors – lots of styles. Bought a tote and then went back and bought the small cross-body “Uptown Bagg.”

Clothes – First discovery was Liberty House on 112th and Broadway. Yes, its a schlep getting up there, but get over it – once you’re there, you won’t want to leave. I spent about two hours in the shop, fell in love with the owner Cathy and her assistant, bought lovely linen pants and jacket – which was exactly what I was looking for – and left them with two of my books as a present.

It always pays to walk in Manhattan – you’ll never know what you’ll find. Next amazing discovery was Rootchi, located at Broadway and 99th Street. OH MY GOD! What clothes! They’re affiliated with the Lauren Vidal line  – elegant, flowing, architectural, strong. Loved them. Loved the salesperson who kept the store open for me. I’m a fan!

Shoes – If you have less than perfect feet, if after an hour of walking your toes are crying – check out Harry’s on the Upper West Side (Broadway & 83rd). A bastion of comfortable, well-made shoes for women, men and children. Warning – you will find no Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin or Manolo Blahniks here – but for those – you sure don’t need me.

Restaurants: I’m always amazed by the eateries cropping up all over the city. You never have to hungry in this place! But do beware – those chain cafe places might not be as inexpensive as they seem. I loaded up my plate with salad from the tempting salad bar at Mangia and ended up with a whopping $12 bill.

First great find was 44 x 10 – yup, that’s the name. Exactly on 10th Avenue and 44th Street in Hells Kitchen. Great food, outdoor eating area where you can people-watch, close to Times Square and Javits Center. And what a bathroom!

A lovely little place in the Village was North Square, on Waverly, near Washington Square Park. My friend asked me not to mention it, its her favorite neighborhood joint and she doesn’t want it to get too crowded. Oh well, hope she doesn’t read this.

Dos Caminos on Park Avenue South &  27th – always a favorite if you’re into Mexican, young and pulsating. Fun place, Margarita-ville! Part of the BR Guest family of restaurants – admittedly I’m partial to them.

Big Daddy’s is just what you think it would be – diner all the way. Located at Park Avenue South & 19th – great breakfast!

Blue Water Grill – another of the BF Guest restaurants. And I have a confession to make. When I wrote the part about Walter inviting Elie to join him at his favorite restaurant on the corner of Union Square & 16th, I meant this restaurant. But I mistakenly wrote Union Square Cafe. Not that USC isn’t good, its just that I had imagined this big fabulous space with Walter sitting at his corner table, talking to Elie with one hand on his martini. Oh well, serves me right for being out of New York for so long. Got to go back here with a friend – and still loved it.

Of course I had to make my way over to Bloomingdales – “like no other store in the world.” What can I say – it’s the Holy of Holies. And Times Square? Wow – has it changed! Of course The Plaza, FAO and the fabulous Apple store there – with its huge silver apple hovering over 5th Avenue.

Best find – one evening my friend and I were searching for a local place we could go to (since Hotel Giraffe was our home base, we wanted something nearby). There is no dearth of restaurants in the Grammery/Flatiron district, but still… we wanted something special. I had a feeling about Barbounia – mostly because of the name – which is Hebrew for Red Mullet. What a surprise! Huge, welcoming space, beautifully decorated, open kitchen, tons of seating, fabulous Mediterranean menu. Best of all it turns out I knew the chef! I met Efi Nahon a few years ago in another place, and here he is – executive chef! Food was, as expected, yummy. Wonderfully creative, everything fresh and Med inspired.

So… what else is new about New York? The fact that some streets have been partially taken over by pedestrian seating areas (near Macy’s for instance). Not a hit with the taxi drivers, but an interesting update. Times Square? Disneyland for young and old. Can you imagine a store for just M&M’s? A store dedicated to Reese Peanut Butter Cups? Hello? There are discount pharmacies on every street – just blink and you’ll open your eyes to CVS, Duane Reed or Walgreens. Discount clothing outlets – yup – right there in the Big Apple! And while you wait on those long check-out lines, demarcated by snaking stanchions, you’ll be exposed to yet more stuff to buy – all neatly (or not so neatly) piled onto shelving units set up to entice buyers as they approach the cash registers.

Ah, New York. What a shoppers paradise. There’s no place like it in the world!

I went back to New York ostensibly to attend the Book Expo America taking place in the Javits Center, and to promote my new book Menopause in Manhattan . But if you looked into what came out of my suitcases (yes plural) you’d wonder if I ever left the stores. I did. Really.

My first bit of excitement came at Ben Gurion Airport – there was Menopause in Manhattan on a shelf among other “bestsellers” at the Steimatzky store. So thrilling to see it there!  After a too-long flight, my friend Saralee picked me up at the airport and herded me to her home, a place I’ve felt comfortable in for the last nineteen years, ever since I traded in my cushy life on the Upper West for the wilds of the Middle East. There, besides being greeted with fresh sheets on a comfy bed, I had access to office supplies, computer hookups, Internet help (they’re a family of techies) and unlimited refrigerator  privileges – with excellent food inside. It wasn’t hard to adjust.

Day One was spent visiting Charles Fazzino  – the one and only fabulous artist who created the cover of Menopause in Manhattan – in his New Rochelle studio. We met his director of operations Julie Maner, and his staff, and we witnessed the making of those amazing pieces of art. Truly an inspiring and awesome experience.

Next we headed to the Westchester Mall – an ambitious project considering one of us was jet lagged and the other uncomfortable in this unfamiliar driving environment. Lunch in the Food Court (I just had to) and a quick meander around and that was enough for both of us. Time to go home.

The next day I borrowed my friend’s car (nice having such generous friends, isn’t it?) and headed, yet once again, to another mall – this time Roosevelt Field in Garden City. No, the purpose was not shopping (at least not the main purpose) but rather to meet with Debbi Honorof – Director of Continuing Education at Hofstra University who happens to be high school friend of mine. We reconnected a few years ago, kept up with each through Facebook and she stepped up to the plate and offered to assist me with my book launch in New York. The plan was to meet in a restaurant – along with another friend – this one from nursery school!

The lunch was wonderful – I don’t recall the food but the two women opposite me were interesting, fun, and full of amazing recollections. Talk about a walk down memory lane! I didn’t remember most (all?) of what they remembered but the experience was unforgettable.

So then afterward…well, it was a mall. You can guess the rest.

Next day – the New York launch!!! Menopause in Manhattan was having its premiere! Thanks to Debbi, the launch was held at the Huntington Arts Council. As friends, old and new, wandered in, there was a bubbling atmosphere.  People from my recent life, old life, long-lost cousins and elementary school friends joined the celebration. I was more than touched by the show of support. We had planned it quickly, without advance notice. Debbi produced a wonderful buffet of food, set up the gallery for a talk and had everything ready for me. All I had to do was speak and sell the book. We auctioned off a signed by Fazzino poster of the book. A very generous friend of Debbi’s was the lucky winner.

The end of the weekend signaled the end of my playtime. It was time to get serious and into the city – Book Expo etc. My friend drove me into Manhattan, straight to the welcoming, gorgeous apartment of friends who live in Greenwich Village. And what an apartment it is!

From there? Straight to BandH on 9^th Avenue and 34th – THE place to buy cameras. One hour and one little Canon Power Shot later, a quick run through Macy’s (could you resist?) and back to the apartment to get ready to meet an acquaintance from my NY interior design days – drinks at “The Library” at The Regency Hotel.

Next day was the first day at the Book Expo. OH MY GOD! Where does one start?   My book was displayed at the Independent Book Publishers Association Booth – but till I found them! There are miles and miles of exhibits to wander through – books, books, books and more books. And publishers, agents, reps, publicists, students, salespeople, authors, celebrities and and and… Oh yeah, lots of free synthetic, environmentally green (?) huge shopping bags being given out. You had to time your arrival at the booth giving them out about ten minutes before Give Away Time and then you’re golden!

This went on for two more days. There were also lots of conferences, lectures, meetings, book signings and private get-togethers going on. And that’s not to mention the action in the dining area. I met three interesting people just by sitting at a table and repeatedly saying “No, the seat is not taken, you’re welcome to join me.”

I volunteered at the IBPA booth, where I got to chat with lots of interesting and interested people. I saw, spoke or listened to Diane Keaton , Dr. Ruth Westheimer, Michael Moore,  Mindy Kaling and Charlaine Harris. I lunched with Debbi and Susannah Greenberg, the very talented book publicist – which provided a wonderful respite from the Expo excitement. Other than aching feet (if you’re planning to attend one of these fairs – wear supportive shoes!), the experience was exhilarating.

After the show concluded, I felt that I had to make the most of my time in New York, so I made lists – who could possibly find Menopause in Manhattan fun to read, or script as a movie? I hand-delivered copies of the book to Donna Karan, Vera Wang, Bergdorf Goodman(because they’re in it) as well as Nora Ephron & Bette Midler (because I love them). And about 25 major newspapers and magazine, and yes, Oprah, and anyone else I could think of.

So now I wait, and hope. I hope to see Menopause in Manhattan take on a life of its own. And become a big hit. And make it all the way to Hollywood. And…

Hey! Steimatzky Bookstore chain in Israel just called and reordered the book – for the third time. We’re getting there!

The ruby ring symbolizes all that a woman can be: her strength, determination, independence. A feeling of – I can do this! I’m capable! I’m in charge of my life!

Now that I designed it and own it, I feel a certain strength too. Its a sign of empowerment, of accomplishing a difficult project on my own and proudly sporting the achievement.Many years ago, when I secured a fabulous retainer as the interior designer of a large hospital complex, I decided to treat myself to a ring as a prize. I gathered up all my courage and walked into Harry Winston, that bastion of BIG jewels on Fifth Avenue. When I explained what I was looking for, they gently guided me to their branch across the street – the one that had jewelry for less than the cost of a Maserati. I didn’t find anything I liked. I also checked Bulgari, Tiffany and of course Fortunoff (every Jewish girl from Queens or Long Island shops at Fortunoff). Alas, nada. I never got that ring but kept the dream alive.

My first encounter with a ruby was thanks to my husband. He said he wanted to buy me one as an engagement ring. I must admit it sounded a bit strange to me, but I was intrigued. I already had a diamond engagement ring from my first marriage. I liked the idea of something different. And I loved the idea that he knew what he wanted to get me.

It was indeed a ruby ring that I received and now, many years later, I mourn it’s loss. I don’t know whether it was carelessness on my part, or an evil house cleaner, but the ring disappeared. Perhaps, that was in the back of my mind when I chose to weave a ruby ring into the story of Elie Sands – to bring that lost ring back to life.

Rubies are said to be imbued with the characteristics of devotion, integrity, courage, happiness, confidence and strength. Could I have possibly picked a better stone?

I wanted a real ruby for myself – and for readers of the book, if they would like to have one too. Oh yes, that was another idea – offer the ruby ring to fans of the book – proudly show off your ruby ring as a symbol that you too are an independent, together woman! But alas, when I started to price rubies – I was in for a shock. Mama Mia!!!

And another problem – Elie’s ring was a cabochon ruby surrounded by diamonds. I wanted something simpler. Cabochons are lovely if the stone is absolutely glittering and clear as a mountain stream. But if the stone is less than than that, there are better ways of displaying its beauty.

The search was on!

I found a source of gems, right here in Tel Aviv, and I got a mini lesson in rubies. There are many, many grades. Yes, you can purchase a lovely synthetic ruby – it looks great! But it is, after all,  artificial and I wanted a real stone, one that comes from the earth. I found it!

My ruby is an African ruby. It is a large stone (20 carats), varying in shades of red/deep pink/maroon. Actually it reminds me of a deep, luxurious Cabernet. It is faceted, which brings out all the subtle tones. The stone has been treated, to enhance its color. My understanding is that it is subjected to intense pressure, via nuclear power, which then forces out the richness of the red – something that would have happened naturally over time (like maybe several millenia).

When it came to designing the ring for the stone, I checked with several experts. Yossi explained a bit about the world of jewelry making, Hugo sent me to the stone supplier and Kern sketched several designs. The best lead was from a saleswoman in a jewelry store – who looked at the stone, loved it and sent me to Avi.

Avi, the jeweler, is a gem of a guy (sorry for the pun, but it really applies). He works in a small crowded space, interrupted constantly by the buzzing of his door alarm. People are in and out all the time. “Avi, I need a pendant.” “Avi, we’re waiting for you to have coffee with us.” “Avi, what do you say about this stone? I want it set like this, surrounded by diamonds.” “Hey bro, what’s up? I need Alexandrite – got any?” Avi has a pleasant, smiling face, he wears a kipah and he concentrates on his work with an intensity of a surgeon hovering over a patient with an open chest.

We spoke about the design possibilities and in the end – he suggested I let him design something appropriate for the stone. If I don’t like it, I don’t have to pay for it. Sounded like a good deal to me so I took it. Several days later I was back in his studio to view the unfinished masterpiece.

When Avi brought it out, I was excited, but contained. It looked raw, still in need of work. The setting was too high – I wanted to wear it with my Cartier style triple band wedding ring, and it had to float over the rings but not be too high in the air. Nor could it be so low as to scratch the other bands. I wanted the prongs that held up the stone to be almost invisible – the ruby is what counts, not the setting. And I wanted the band of the ring to be attractive without being heavy. It had to be elegant, strong enough to support the stone and comfortable to wear.

We did it all! A few hours, several interruptions and a good strong cup of coffee later, I had my ruby ring. The stone is set into a 14kt encasing, which is hammered and finished in matte gold. The band is also slightly matte – it looks beautiful and shows off the natural beauty of the stone.

I wore my ruby ring out of there with a sense of excitement and accomplishment. It symbolizes to me that I finished this book, I produced it myself and I am now proud to see it making its way in the world. Although I am happily married and wouldn’t trade in my husband for all the ruby rings in the world, I also feel strong within, that this is mine, all mine, and it provides me with a reminder that I am capable of many things. And designing a ruby ring is just one of those things.

Now where can I get some ruby slippers???

Great write-up of the book’s launch in Greer Fay Cashman’s column.

Interview with Anne Kleinberg and other writers in Israel’s daily: Haaretz Newspaper

I meant it as a joke, well only sort of. In the process of marketing, I’ve joined lots of organizations, blogs, groups, etc. that appeal to writers. And one of the first things occurring to me is that there’s an awful lot of hand wringing, worrying, and if I may -  taking oneself a wee bit too seriously.

Okay, I’ve written a book. Good for me. I loved the writing process, I loved  the editing process even more. I learned so much from my editor – everything and more than I never learned in college. I don’t think I could have invented a more fulfilling project.

But really! Does writing make me a brilliant philosopher? Nobel or Pulitzer worthy candidate? Just because I managed to set down 131,654 words to page, and turn it into a readable story, I’m kind of thinking that doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. I’ve been reading a lot of articles where people are taking themselves way too seriously. Hello? Writing a book does not a super being make!

This whole thing reminds me of my days as an interior designer. I was a damn good designer, not brilliant or revolutionary, but creative and responsible. I knew my interiors would stand the test of time – I believe they can still hold their own and we’re talking over 20 years here! I was okay with not being outrageous because I knew my clients liked me – and my work.

But I had friends who were hysterical about their projects – their very being depended on the outcome of their latest design project. More than once I found myself saying – “Hey, its not brain surgery we’re doing here. Get a grip!” But alas my words did not help. They chose to think of their work as indispensable, or somewhat close, and if the slightest thing went awry, OH MY GOD!

I’ve read discussions about writing for the benefit of others – that we write to please other people, not ourselves. I don’t think so! I write because I want to. Because it’s fun and and fulfilling and makes me content. But to think that I’m doing this as a service to humanity? That I’m significantly contributing to world harmony just because I wrote a good, maybe even a really good book? Nah.

I just can’t take all this seriousness about the subject. Forgive me, but it does all seem rather masturbatory. Some people write good books. Some people write not such good books. But yet, EVERYONE thinks he has written a masterpiece. And that masterpiece will go on to sell millions and if it doesn’t, its the fault of the publishing industry who didn’t promote it, the media who didn’t pay attention or the reviewers who had axes to grind …

Am I being too harsh? Too frivolous? Taking the subject too lightly? I certainly do not intend to demean anyone who spends his or her time stuck to a computer or writing pad. I don’t want to offend anyone who has decided to share thoughts with the outside world. But I’ll say it again – we’ve written because we wanted to. We’ve taken advantage of a skill we may have and exposed it to the world. If we’re fortunate enough to make a living from writing, or to be able to write without worrying about making a living, then I say we’re lucky as hell!

Please, let’s all get our lives back. Let’s not get so carried away with ourselves that we think the world can’t live without our writing. Do we want recognition? Hell yes! Do we want the phone to ring with Oprah on the other end? Oh yeah! But does that give us the right to pontificate on politics, world peace, the state of the union and all other timely topics – just because we wrote something? NO, IT DOES NOT!!!

Oprah, did you hear me?

P. S. The bookstore chain just called and ordered 40 more books from me (Menopause in Manhattan). Oprah honey, I don’t need you anymore!

One of the first assignments I found myself steeped in was determining what genre my novel fell into. What category of writing was it? General Ficiton? Women’s fiction? Chick lit? Hen Lit. Urban fiction? Commercial fiction? Literary fiction?

How do I know???

Who would have imagined that at this age, I’d still be finding myself in situations where my status had to be defined. Class status starts when we’re young. Do we get to be in the class with the smart kids or the dummies? High school it gets even worse – cool crowd or nerds? Popular kids or the losers? College? Career? Aren’t we always defining ourselves according to what others may think of ourselves?

No matter how confident we may seem, there are insecurities lurking below the surface. I assume we all have them. And when we write, we let go of our inner thoughts – or at least we let go of our characters and put them out there for the world to meet. Of course we’re going to be judged – expected. We’ve written a story, we’ve publicized it and we have to deal with the after-effects. But before you can even jump to the judgment part, you have to determine the genre you belong to. Oy. Out pop those old high school insecurities all over again!

Is my book (Menopause in Manhattan) chick lit? That would be light-hearted stuff appealing mostly to women – nothing too heavy or serious enough to make you remember it once you close the book. But my book deals with a woman who’s hitting fifty – and I’ve been told that puts it in the hen lit category. Ouch! So what – like only older women are going to like it? Have I written a novel that will appeal only to senior citizens?

But guys like it. And young people like it. So maybe I need to remove it from the female genre all together?

I thought perhaps it belonged to the urban literature genre – makes sense since my story takes places mostly in Manhattan. Well hardy har har – urban lit refers to the tough stuff – inner city, profanity, sex and violence. That sure as hell ain’t what my story is about.

The decision I finally had to make was simpler – commercial fiction or literary. I think I was asked to assign a category for the Amazon site. Simple enough.

So why did I feel like once again I was being judged? Once again I wouldn’t make it into the cool girl’s sorority? I’d have to settle for second best?

Literary fiction sounded good – Pulitzer worthy. Commercial fiction sounded well, commercial – like Readers Digest maybe would do a quick synopsis of my story. I went to my editor – she knows everything – and she told me. And I did not like her answer!

Yup – Menopause in Manhattan was indeed commercial fiction. Oh the pain of it! My book was good enough to sell – but not of intellectual quality. I meekly expressed my disappointment to her. She laughed.

“But you don’t want to be literary fiction. Commercial fiction is so much better!”

Oh yeah, sure. Tell me another story.

She laughed again. “Look, literary fiction is something like Salmon Rushdie writes a new book. Its considered solid literary fiction. But no one wants to read it, its boring, or heavy anyway. Maybe it will sell because its Salman Rushdie, but will people love it? NO!

Now take commercial fiction. That sells and people love reading it. And it doesn’t matter if its defined as chick lit, or hen lit or beach lit or summer reading or whatever you want to name it. It makes people think or smile or cry. It touches people.

And that’s a good thing!

So Menopause in Manhattan – you get to be commercial fiction. Now get out there and sell thyself!

I like going to these fairs. As a reader, I’ve always loved being surrounded by so many books. As an author, I felt it important to mingle with other writers, to see what they’re up to. And now, as a self-published author, I thought it critical to be there, get my book into circulation, talk it up, meet & mingle, and most importantly – find an agent or “real” publisher.

I could not have been more misguided!

I woke up to the fact that there was an important book fair happening here in Israel only two weeks before it began. Before that I had been way too busy with getting my book printed and into circulation. Okay I figured, I can handle this. No reason not to be part of this great event, even if all the deadlines have already passed. Determination! Chutzpah!

I did it. I paid the fee and got myself included as one of the participants. I got my book over to Steimatzky and a miracle worker there got it into the system in time to make its premiere appearance at the Fair. I downloaded the list of agents, editors and publishers who were attending and emailed them all – asking if it was possible to set up a meeting. Never mind that it was Thursday and the Fair was starting on Sunday. Last email received, top of the pile? Oh yeah, sure.

I got replies from all – “Out of the office until … Attending Jerusalem Book Fair. If an emergency, contact…” But I still had hope – surely they would check in with their emails? Surely they would want to meet with me – such a nice Jewish girl from Queens who actually has been published the “traditional” way four times, and lives in the Holy Land and has written a killer novel? What drug was I on when I dreamed up that scenario???

I bought a new wardrobe – something I haven’t done for years – because I was certain that my for-sure successes would require me to look fab. I booked myself into a hotel next to the Fair – after all, shlepping from where I live to Jerusalem each day would be hell. My for-sure successes would cover the costs. I shlepped my old laptop with me – no doubt all those editors, agents & publishers I wrote to would write back – dying to have a drink or dinner with me in some swank Jerusalem eatery. I had to be ready! I loaded up the car with cartons of books, brought along a wheelie thing to help with the schlepping and set off on my journey. I was going to Jerusalem – a one and a half hour drive from my home, but it felt like another country.

Traffic was not good. The 1 1/2 hour drive turned into almost 3. The hotel’s entrance was poorly signed and a bus was blocking the driveway. Many u-turns later I found the place. No indoor parking lot! Luckily I found a spot outside the entrance. It was raining, a lot! Got myself inside, registered, entered the room, unloaded the suitcase, wheelie, books, bags, raincoat, blah, blah, blah. No hook-up for the computer, only WiFi – but my old laptop never even heard of Wi-Fi. Ran over to the Exhibition Hall – which was supposed to be connected to the hotel by a covered walkway – but the covered walkway was a loooooooong walk from the hotel door. Got soaked. Registered at the Fair. Walked around and saw lots of people frantically shelving books, setting up their booths, arranging their flyers. Back to the hotel for a quick shower and donning of outfit #1- the Opening Ceremony was about to begin! And I had tickets for it!!!

Big crowd, serious security, cameras, microphones, press sections, lots of people streaming in. Women in black – the New Yorkers here to scout out new talent. Under thirty-somethings in jeans – new authors or those who just didn’t give a crap. Dark glasses, iPad cases, people scribbling notes, people checking out others, greeting old friends, government ministers, wealthy looking patrons of the arts, intelligentsia, Ian McEwen! They were all there.

I scanned the auditorium and thought – wow! Look where I am! Oy. What am I doing here? I’ve written a nice novel – it’s not Pulitzer worthy – how do I even dare to sit here with these oh so accomplished people. I’ve been writing for various newspapers and media companies for 16 years, but I still felt unworthy.

But… I was determined to meet the right people. Damn it I’ll be aggressive! I’ll go right up to them and stick my card in their face! I’ll tell them I’ve written a great novel, I’m not just a fly by night author, I’ve got credentials! I’ll hang out at the Literary Cafe! I’ll mingle in the Editors & Agents Only Room! I’ll fill up my schedule with quickie meetings – I’ll make my pitch and move on. I’ll smile a lot! Yeah, that’s the ticket!

Want to know what happened? Some background first. If an agent or an editor or a publisher even smells that you’re a self-published author, they will steer clear of you so fast, if will make your head turn. Speedy Gonzalez has nothing on these people – they break all speed records avoiding you – hell – they’ll even avoid eye contact! THEY DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU!

They’ll be scanning the room which is set up to help people meet and make deals. They’ll be looking for their next ticket to stardom – big client, big fees. They’ll be watching their competitors wondering what she has up her sleeve. Who has signed a deal with who? One woman even stopped her conversation with me mid-sentence when she spied someone she wanted to meet. Guess where my ego was going? Definitely down south.

After a day of trying to avoid rejection and keep my spirits up, I had an epiphany (I just love when those happen). First of all – I met terrific people there. Like the Steimatzky group, the American Cultural Section people, the organizer of the fair who was friendly and encouraging, an editor I know from here who was delighted to see me, a woman publishing children’s’ books who was extremely generous with her time and advice. But the most important thing I learned? Self-publishing is not a bad thing! I definitely was on the right track.

It also helped that I did a bit of number crunching. I figured out, quite unscientifically but using my previous experience as a basis, that in order to achieve a decent sum of royalties, a publisher would have to sell 200,000 of my books compared to me selling maybe 5,000 on my own. Are you getting this? I realized that even though big house publishing comes with “yiches” – name recognition – it doesn’t offer much else. Okay, yes, maybe your book will be considered the real stuff – its been properly edited (hopefully) and believed in by someone other that yourself and your husband/wife/kids/favorite aunt. But that’s about it, sorry to say.

My experience with publishers is that they don’t really go out of their way a whole lot to push your book. Maybe at the beginning, they’ll be enthusiastic and push it (no doubt my book “Pomegranates” received great publicity initially). But after a while, they have other books to push and yours is no longer on the top of the heap. Anyway, they expect you to do tons of marketing – you have to spread the word. And another little secret? No one is paying authors to schlep around to book signings these days unless your name starts with J.K….

So… if you’re going to do the marketing and the schlepping and the calling and the begging and the talking and the signing and the whole shtick of it – WHY DO YOU NEED THEM??? And today? In the glorious (?) age of Internet? With e-books? There’s a virtual universe of virtual sites for you to plug away and sell through. Getting a book up on Kindle? Took me less than an hour.

So.. I wouldn’t discourage you if you have the novel on the century. Go for it – find a literary agent who loves your work and believes that he/she can get your book straight to a great publisher. Then get yourself another agent who knows how to get you on Oprah – at the very least. And then whenever they call you – run to the next book signing or launch or whatever they have planned for you.

But… you could also do it my way. SELF-PUBLISH! Enjoy the process. Learn from it. Take pride in your work and work it till you exhaust every single option. Get that book out there by yourself. Come on! You can do it! I just did!!!

Menopause in Manhattan will be premiering at the Jerusalem Book Fair!

Although there’s been no official launch, and the US version has not yet been released, the forces that be are conspiring to help. The United States Embassy will be hosting a booth at this year’s book fair and they’ve kindly to provide space (shelf or table as the case may be) for the book. In addition, Steimatzky said yes and a fairy godmother there pulled strings (or was it tendons?) and got them to process the publisher (Bestsellers Ink) pronto. That means that Bestsellers Ink, the publisher of Menopause in Manhattan is an officially recognized vendor!

So get yourselves over to the Jerusalem Book Fair – I’ll be there on Monday February 21 & Tuesday February 22 – and say hi!!!

Jerusalem Book Fair

By the way, the book has its own website! It’s being worked on but if you’d like to go in and have a look – please do!

www.menopause-in-manhattan.com

Should I get excited? I’m controlling my urge to do a dance. I’ve had too many bad lessons. Hopefully this time it will all be perfect – or a close facsimile.

This process has taught me so much. Self-publishing is journey to be embarked on only if one is ready to fight the dragons. Problems crop up everywhere! But I must admit that the satisfaction level is really high. I wrote the book, I formatted the book, I found the amazing artist who did the cover (Charles Fazzino), I guided the graphic designer as to what I wanted on the back cover. This book has my heart and soul in it – and not just from the writing standpoint.

So… the moment of truth is about to be revealed. May the forces be with us!