Eventing

Further to my comment in the previous post about working now in the event-organizing side of the literary world, I thought I would do a little post for lit-folk on how it looks from this vantage point, now that I find myself here. I suppose by the eve of my retirement I will have had every job possible in the the Canadian literary landscape—I hope it’s “eve of my retirement” and not “eve of my death” but we shall see. Anyway, I am always learning stuff, and there is always more to learn. So why not share? Please share too, in the comments, what you know or what your opinions are! It can only help!

Also, I did want to mention that the event I programmed, promoted, and MC’d yesterday went very well and I was destroyed by the end of it. Like, absolutely incoherent, I had to follow up with some of the people I spoke to and apologize for not making sense. I didn’t eat, I couldn’t relax even though for 80% of it I was not doing anything but listening to panel discussions that were interesting, relevant, and engaging, and when I left (to go to another event, that I didn’t organize) I mashed my whole face into Mark’s shoulder in a room full of people. So! I am not a trained event professional yet.

Nevertheless, some thoughts!

1. Do you want to do events? Reach out very far in advance of the time you wish to do them! Like, a year isn’t wild. I mean, it’s kind of wild but still. The reasons a writer would like to present at a reading series, festival, or other event usually have to do with promoting the publication of a book, which is a thing you know is going to happen long before it happens. So this is somewhat easy to do logistically speaking. Also hard to do logistically speaking because what is life a year from now—will we be living in pods on the moon? But try to get into that headspace. This is partly because of how grants work—some granting bodies will not give series/festivals the grant without knowing who is invited, and at least theoretically if they might say yes—and partly just how big organizations plan. There are lots of smaller, fleeter operations that will be able to at least consider a pitch closer in, and lots of chaos engines that have to do everything at the last minute because chaos, but for max options, think way in advance. I have heard people say that their book is OUT and now they are going to think about how to promote it, and of all the things that are very challenging about book promotion in 2025, I just don’t think you need to bring that one on yourself.

2. Do you hate doing events? You probably don’t have to do them, and probably CAN’T do them if it is evident that you hate them. Gone are the days where someone can grumble there way up to the podium and read some bon mots with their eyes trained on the floor, refuse to take questions, then be thanked and congratulated. I’m actually not sure if that was ever a thing or some sort of dream JD Salinger once had. Most series and festivals, panel discussions and everything else are trying to provide value, interest, and joy to viewers, so either participants want to be a part of that, or they don’t. Much as journals and magazines often advise would-be submitters to READ the journal first, or at least be someone who enjoys reading journals and magazines in general, people who want to do presentations and readings will have those endeavours go better if they at least occasionally see and enjoy others do so. But the other reason not to worry about these types of things if you don’t like them is that they are neither money spinners on their own (fees for most presenters are not huge) nor guaranteed book sales magnets (hollow laughter). I mean, they help…sometimes…a bit…if you do a good job and it’s the right audience. If you are going to find presenting very upsetting and burdensome, maybe give yourself a break, ok?

3. The arbiters are not necessarily bastions of power, or people to be afraid of. Also please don’t be mean to them. I’ve said this about granting committees, acquisitions editors, book reviewers, and almost everyone in a position of “choosing stuff” in the literary community—it’s a rough gig and often not someone’s main gig. Festivals and reading series especially are often run off the side of many desks, with volunteers and a few scantily paid staff doing the best they can with some review copies, a couple modest grants, a pile of tinsel and a few racoons in a trenchcoat as MC (I mean, not every festival or reading series, but more than you think—it’s amazing what an intrepid volunteer can do with tinsel and a racoon so that you’d never know that the whole show is run on $40). It can be really upsetting not to have your book be chosen for something that seems like a perfect fit, and when the choosing would mean so much, but please try to keep in mind how many books there are every season and how few staff (or “staff”) these orgs have. In these cases, like so many, it’s really really necessary not to take it personally, hard as that can be.

4. If you get asked to do something for free, it could be fine! Or not! It depends on what the point is for you in doing the event! It’s SO NICE to be asked to share my writing anywhere that it can be confusing to start asking why I would do that. Surely, to promote it? To get exposure to more readers, to sell books? Listen, as the saying goes, you can die of exposure. You have to think logically—I have been invited to NUMEROUS events where it seemed fairly obvious if I bothered to think about it (which in the early days I didn’t always) that very few people at that type of event would care about my book. Sometimes I think I was being invited because the organizers had fundamentally misunderstood what my book was, or simply didn’t care and were trying fill slots quickly—maybe I was backup for someone who bailed? Sometimes I think they were just thinking hopefully that they liked it and maybe someone else would too, which was sweet but perhaps not a great reason to drag me across town for no money. I’m a little better about following my instincts these days—if an event sounds like a terrible idea to me, I am usually right, so I don’t chide myself that the organizers “must know what they are doing.” I can say a polite no thank you. But money, or book sales, is not all there is. I have done events where no one cared about me or my work for the sake of getting to meet a really cool co-reader and bask in their glory, and hopefully continue that connection in the future. I’ve done events in exchange for admission to the full festival for the rest of the week, for free books, for (your mileage may vary) a fabulous dinner that I ate while being ignored. You really have to consider what you want from an event, what your chances are of getting it, and work from there.

5. Do you want to negotiate? You can…a little bit. Listen, I hate this, but: not everyone is given the same starting offer. I have been invited to a number of events where the initial invitation didn’t mention money but, when I enquired politely if there would be money, they named a reasonable figure. Initially I thought the event organizer was just a silly goose who forgot to say, but this has happened to me enough times that I think the game is, “some people will do it for free, so don’t offer any money unless they ask.” I don’t know for sure! But it seems a lot of different people forgetting to mention the thing most of us find necessary to buy food and shelter. As mention in #4 above, I do do a fair number of things for free, or for recompense that is not cash, but I also love cash and need it for food and shelter, so I do generally ask about it if it isn’t mentioned. Kindly, politely, but I ask. Another thing to ask about—travel money! Or at least a solution to the problem of travel beyond the city limits (in-town travel is my problem every day so I figure it remains my problem for speaking engagements). I have been the beneficiary of some fun and unique non-cash solutions to this issue. Ask about promotion too, if you can—it can really suck to be generous about the fees and everything but feel “at least I am promoting my work” only to show up and realize the event has not been advertised and no one is there.

6. Create your own opportunities. What I’m saying here is that you’ll end up doing a lot for free, for your own amusement, and in the hopes that it will help your book be seen. So it can make sense to grasp the reins and organize the events you want to do—they will still be for no money, but they will likely be more amusing and promote your book better.

7. Be kind, and expect kindness. This is pretty much covered above but I can’t stress it enough—we’re all supposed to be giving each other grace in these challenging times, but grace does not tolerate rudeness. If you need to say no to an invitation, that’s fine—as an event organizer, I can tell you my favourite answer is a prompt, friendly yes, and a prompt friendly no is my second favourite. Everything else is drama. Don’t ghost, and feel free to follow up—kindly—if someone who was supposed to get back to you didn’t. Walk away from interactions that make you feel bad, and don’t cause that to others. Life is too short.

I hope this helps, and I would welcome other feedback since I’m just getting started in events the past couple years on the organizing side, though I’ve been participating for years. Today’s header photo is me MCing yesterday. I look bananas but I was really happy. A good event where everyone is vibing is worth its weight in gold.