Platform Shlatform, part II
I’m late to the party for Sloane Crosley’s quirked-out book trailers and can’t imagine how many hours (and hours) were spent on them (the scissors!) (the glue!) (the tiny paper bits!)…but I love them nonetheless. Here’s the one for I Was Told There’d Be Cake and then this one (my fav) for her newer book, How Did You Get My Number?
Love when the bear talks.
August 25th, 2010
Platform Shlatform
The very word makes me want to go lie down, but every writer who wants more than just her spouse and mother to read her book (much less buy it), needs to have a platform. A platform is what I bring to the table, a promise to publishers that I have a network, a following, a series of conduits for getting the word out whenever I publish. It’s the self-generated professional alliances, civic memberships, lecture gigs, teaching gigs, radio and TV gigs. My bookclubbability.
[Placeholder for whingy paragraph on how I didn't get into writing to be my own flak and shouldn't publishers be responsible for publishing, which implies promotion, etc. etc.]
After much hand-holding and prodding by tech-savvy consultants, I’m inching towards world domination tweet by tweet, and now that I know my way around blogs, facebook, twitter, shelfari, booktour, and linkedin, the next step is definitely a book trailer. But how? Every reenactment/dramatization I’ve seen borrows its cast and camera techniques from America’s Most Wanted, and the best of the soundtracked tearjerkers make me feel manipulated in a way I’m willing to have happen exactly once, preferably by the book itself. If anyone out there has great trailer models, holler…. In the meantime, here are a few of my favs:
August 2nd, 2010
The Packrat Chronicles
There’s a reason my family calls my house “Li-Mart.” In recent weeks, I have supplied the following without leaving the confines of my home:
**298 Danish Krone to my mother. In August, she goes to Copenhagen to visit friends (a family that includes the woman I’m named after), and, mistaking me for Thomas Cook, dropped by today to ask my advice on changing money. I recommended ATMs, but then I also just happen to have a foreign currency stash in my WHQ office, where I have leftovers from trips along with a curious accumulation of currency for places I’ve never been, including Portugal and China.
**A handwoven Ethiopian netela, sewn by yours truly into a Tibetan-style baby carrier (this is also the way I saw many Ethiopian girls carrying their smaller siblings, and a method I imagine is too sensible not to be used in multiple cultures). The carrier was a collaborative project with the visiting DIL (Daughter-In-Love), whose current AZ locale makes the gauzy cotton weave of the netela especially apropos for toting around an increasingly active, heat-generating 12-lb wonderbaby. In the desert. In summer.
**Shallots, shallots and more shallots. Our highest-yielding crop to date (with raspberries a solid second). Other garden plantings that seem to be faring well: the rainbow chard is a gift that keeps on giving; Magda squash seems to be borer resistant; and the various tomatoes–if we can keep on top of the potato beetles–look to be coming on strong. Much curiosity about the currant tomatoes and wondering whether the 3/4-inch little guys will deliver flavor bombs as promised.
**Oilcloth and other fabrics and sewing notions to my niece, Phoebe, and her friend Fazia–so they could make banners for their eighth-grade graduation ceremony. Some kids focused on their high schools, their families, their academic interests. Our girl dealt with such matters in the circular tassels she hung down from hers — but mostly, she made a giant sneaker.
July 15th, 2010



