The importance of being you

There’s been a bit of angst in our house of late. The conversation has been going something like this: 

My husband: You really need to do a video for your book ads.

Me: No thanks.

My husband: Why not? 

Me: Because I feel stupid. I don’t like the idea of sitting there, trying to sell my books. 

And so, the conversation has been going on. I did understand his surprise. In my day job, I am a television reporter and have been speaking into the black hole that is the camera lens for more than two decades. But that, I tell him, is different. I am telling someone else’s story, I feel too embarrassed to do this.

His point was research shows these video ads are not just about selling books. Readers like to see who has written the book, and they can make a better connection with you. 

That may well be the case, but still, from me – no. 

“What are you afraid of?” My husband asked. 

“Nothing I told him. I just don’t want to do it.” 

But then a few things happened. First, I was listening to Holly Tucker’s brilliant ‘Conversations of Inspiration’ podcast with a man called David Hieatt who founded the clothing brand Howies. He talked about the importance of honesty and connecting with your customers, or in my case the readers at the beginning. I don’t have a big board of directors to get my ideas through, but I do have my story and I am hoping my work will do.  

I listened then to another podcast (I spend a lot of time listening to podcasts as I run, ahem shuffle, around the Downs in Bristol), with the magnificent Jay Shetty. He was speaking with the motivational speaker and author Rachel Hollis. “What are you really afraid of?” She asked. “I mean really? Is it failing? Or is it, what people will think?” 

I stopped running. She was right, of course she was. I was afraid. I was afraid people would see it and think, what is she doing? Who does she think she is? What a wally/idiot/you get the idea.

But at the same time, this fear was stopping me. I do want my readers to get to know me, and I want to get to know them. I want the work I do to help in some way, and I really want them to feel we are connected, as if we are all somehow in this together.

But then the most powerful event happened. Our 11-year-old son started secondary school. Again, the house was filled with even more angst although I have come to realise so much of this is caused by us, the parents. I was worried about him walking to school on his own. I remember it so well, walking into my own secondary school, not just the first day but for many years after, my stomach tight, a sinking feeling. Not really knowing where I belonged, feeling like I would never fit in. Not brave enough to have the confidence to just be me. 

“Shall I try to arrange for you to walk in with someone?” I asked, my own school-days flashing before me. 

“No thank you.” 

“But why not?” 

“Mum. I just want to find my own way.” 

And who can argue with that? 

So, on the first day my husband and I watched him stride off onto the path unknown, but he was right. It was his path not ours. All we could was wave and wait until he was out of sight until we burst into tears. But I was in awe. 

So, last night instead of Saturday drinks I filmed my first videos. I did a fifteen second one which will go out with my book and a longer one for my Facebook page. I felt silly, embarrassed but proud too. I want to connect with my readers. This is my path. 

I showed the videos to our 11-year-old. 

“What do you think?” 

“You see mum,” he said. “You just had to find your own way.” 

So, we raised our delayed Saturday drinks to him and wondered when did 11-year-olds become so wise?