Chapter 15 #2
Like me, she’s been posting on her account diligently.
Except while I was growing at a steady pace of a handful of followers a week, she’s basically blown up.
She’s started a new account for her writing and now has 1.
2 million followers. A proper book influencer.
And every post has hundreds of comments along the lines of Who do I have to kill to get an ARC of this book!
!! I cannot wait to read it!!! Her followers, unlike mine, are passionate—rabid, almost. I know that people exaggerate online, that emotions become overblown on social media, but it’s still so jarring to see.
I tap on her previous post. It’s of Haven holding up a fellow debut’s book, her beautiful face grinning into the camera.
The caption reads: Happy book birthday to this gorgeous creature!
You guys, if you buy just one book this month, let it be this one.
Ugh, how do I describe the brilliance that is @Yunawriteseverything?
? I cannot! My babe Yuna is so talented that if we weren’t such good friends, I would be writhing on the floor with jealousy.
Seriously, do yourselves a favor and get this book. Get it now. You can thank me later!!
The pinned comment is from Yuna, and it says: You are the best
I know it’s utterly ridiculous to feel jealous or weird about this in any way, and yet part of me still feels like Yuna and I have a special connection because of how we first interacted with each other on Slack.
I was her friend first, I want to whine at the universe.
I click on my profile and look at the photo I posted about Yuna’s book.
I’m not as photogenic as Haven, so I’d taken the time to arrange Yuna’s book artfully, with a plate of homemade jam thumbprint cookies on one side and a cup of milky tea on the other and flowers here and there.
It’s altogether a beautiful image, both calming and inviting.
My caption reads: Happiest of publication day to my dear friend @Yunawriteseverything!
I’m so proud of you and your book. Secrets of the Blind Mouse is a beautiful story about a scam artist who falls in love with her mark, and after a decade of marriage, slowly comes to learn that all is not what it seems within their relationship.
The post garnered only three comments. The one from Yuna says: Thank you so much, Fern! It’s perfectly nice, but it’s nowhere near the same level as You are the best
I switch back and forth from my post to Haven’s until they blur together in my mind.
I see now, how compared to mine, Haven’s comes across as more genuine.
Mine is a well-thought-out book review. Hers is pure word of mouth, someone grabbing you by the shoulders and going, “Trust me, you are going to love this!”
How does Haven do it? How does she convey closeness and familiarity with everyone?
How is she everybody’s bestie? She is the type to greet people she’s just met with a heartfelt hug, and you can just tell from her posts.
I’ve always envied those people, the ones who greet unfamiliarity with open arms. So many times I’ve told myself, Greet them with a hug.
Greet them with a hug. Greet them—and then I meet them, whoever they happen to be, and my arms stick to my sides, and I end up giving them an awkward wave instead.
I look at Haven’s other recent posts—there seems to be a lot more involving her parents—then I make myself close Instagram for my own sake and open up Slack instead.
I remind myself that Lisa hadn’t said anything mean about me to Jenna.
She was probably just feeling weird about reading Haven’s new manuscript and didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
Everything is okay. I should stay active in the private group chat.
There is no good reason for me to lose my two closest friends over this.
Taking a deep breath, I click on the private channel and send a message.
Fern: I’m back in Cali. (Sad face)
Jenna: Awww. Are you back at your parents’ place now? How is everything?
Fern: Same as it was when I left ten years ago. Literally nothing has changed. It’s like going back in time.
Lisa: Oof, I hear ya. I can’t imagine having to stomach my parents’ house now. Doesn’t help that they’re uber religious people and I’m not.
Fern: I’m sorry to hear that. My parents aren’t too bad, they’re just . . . not affectionate, you know? Like, standoffish. It’s always a little awkward to be around them, and I’m their kid!
Jenna: Speaking of kids, mine are driving me craaazy! Just this morning, Emily was like, “Mommy, I don’t want French toast for breakfast.” What kid doesn’t want French toast for breakfast??!
Lisa: That’s hilarious! I totally get what you mean. Jameson threw a huge tantrum this morning because, and I quote, “I don’t like the way the sun looks this morning.” Like, sorry kid, if I had the power to control the sun, I would change it up for you, but unfortunately, I don’t!
Jenna:
I reply with laughing emojis as well but don’t add anything to the conversation.
Ever since schools went into lockdown, our chats have shifted from publishing-oriented topics, tightening around parenting topics.
Logically, I know this makes sense. Jenna’s and Lisa’s kids are home and demanding all their attention, so of course they would be hyperfocused on them.
But still. It makes me feel excluded. I never know what to say when kids are brought up, aside from a polite chuckle and a benign virtual nod.
I never know if it’s okay to be like, “Yeah, kids are terrible,” or if that would be crossing a line.
Jenna, Lisa, and the other parents in the debut group are often saying stuff that implies that kids are a nightmare, but somehow it’s not okay if a childless person like me is the one saying that.
I would just come out of it looking like a monster.
Instead, I check the general channels. #Commiserations is my favorite one to check because it makes me feel better to know that I’m not the only person having a tough time, so I save that one for last. I click on the other channels, sighing when I get to #culinary and see that Haven has been posting her culinary wonders nonstop every day, while I’ve spent the last week or so driving cross-country.
Her creations include Taiwanese beef noodle soup, dumplings from scratch, pain au chocolat, and an Italian pastry I’ve never seen before but is apparently called a sfogliatella and looks like something out of a Michelin-starred pastry shop.
Everyone oohed and aahed about her photos, and I don’t blame them.
They really are stunning, even without the professional-level photography.
Meanwhile, I’ve been stuck in my car, stopping at sad roadside motels and eating instant ramen.
It seems highly ironic that the channel I created to give myself an outlet to get out of Haven’s shadow and shine has become yet another place for Haven to bask in compliments.
Well, never mind. I’m home now, and I’ve been steadfast with feeding Doughlores every day so she’s still healthy and alive, and once I feel less floppy I will resume my daily baking.
Finally, I open #commiserations. People who have debuted earlier this year are sharing their sales numbers.
Most of their books have tanked, unsurprisingly, and some are reporting sales as low as twenty copies in a week, which is truly abysmal.
I don’t know why whenever I say I’m an author, people automatically think Stephen King or Rick Riordan, but most authors don’t sell anywhere near the numbers that these star authors do.
They’re selling hundreds of millions of books, but the average author would count themselves lucky if they sell over ten thousand books in their lifetime.
And, from the looks of the #commiserations channel, none of us are on our way to selling anything even approaching ten thousand copies.
Someone has sold six hundred copies in the first week, and that’s the best number we’ve got so far.
I allow myself a few moments of petty reverie.
This is why I like the #commiserations channel.
No matter how differently we’re faring outside of publishing—some of these debut authors are high-powered lawyers; there’s even a doctor or two among us—within publishing, the playing field is leveled, and we’re all given the same starting line.
I, an unemployed nobody, have as good a chance as everyone else to start over and make my mark in the publishing world.
I comfort myself, too, with the knowledge that this applies to Haven.
She might’ve gotten the seven-figure book deal, but like the rest of us, she will also be debuting during the pandemic.
There’s no escaping that harsh reality. COVID, a terrifying leveler, has pounded its fist down onto all of us, and we are all in the same boat.
There is something strangely comforting in that.
But just as I think that, the #celebrations channel lights up.
Something inside me twists, as though even without opening the channel, some strange instinct has perked up and is telling me it’s going to be about Haven.
I shrug it off. For a moment, I tell myself not to open the #celebrations channel.
To stay here in #commiserations and pretend that all is not well with everybody else, and therefore all is well with me.
But my thumb moves of its own accord and taps on the screen.
The #celebrations channel loads, and somehow, it’s worse than anything I could’ve imagined.
Haven: Guys! I can finally announce this!! I have been sitting on this for months and it’s been Killing Me!!! My Book is Good Morning America’s Book Club Pick!!!