In February I wrote about how authors these days have to do circus tricks humiliate ourselves feed the engine of capitalism fund Jeff Bezos’ phallic looking space rocket more work than ever before to promote our books. Among the things that seem to maybe possibly kind of nobody knows if they actually help, publishers are asking authors to form “launch teams.” In some cases, this involves writing reviews of books and mentioning them in social media. In other cases, it involves multiple weekly emails asking team members to do everything from hosting “cover reveals” to authors doing giveaways. I recently read about an author giving away a week’s vacation and air travel as a prize for their launch team members and, uh, yeah. I can’t afford that.
In spite of the fact that I’ve somehow written six books while working full time, I am essentially a lazy person. My favorite recreational activity is sleeping. So both because I think launch teams are a little cringey in the sense that they ask readers to do more than just read, and because I think you too should be lazy (think of it as resistance to capitalism! you can’t spend money when you’re napping or loafing), in exchange for a digital copy of my forthcoming book (my publisher only has a very limited number of hard covers available for advanced readers, but if you need one, you can mention that on the Google form below), I’m asking you to do ONLY ONE of two things:
Post a review somewhere. Amazon (sigh), Goodreads (barf), Barnes and Noble (remember when they put a ton of independent bookstores out of business?), or in your own newsletter/blog/carrier pigeon message/etc.
Mention the book on social media. I don’t care where you do it.
That is it. In exchange I can only offer my gratitude and some promotional postcards. (here’s the guilt trip part) I’m still in recovery from cancer treatment and have limited energy/funding for swag like bookplates, t shirts, mugs etc printed with the book’s cover (now imagining someone drinking out of a mug with the book’s subtitle “Abusers, False Apologies and the Limits of Forgiveness” printed on it and chortling) PLUS you DON’T NEED another promotional tote bag AND all of that swag will likely end up in a landfill. DON’T MAKE GRETA THUNBERG ANGRY.
Here is a link to sign up for a free copy of Not So Sorry.
Here are some endorsements from people who are much, much smarter than me,
"Kaya Oakes challenges those slippery, PR-constructed apologies that leave us rolling our eyes. But she does more than that. Throughout Not So Sorry, Kaya Oakes listens to the voices of victims, allows us to wrestle with our assumptions, and leads us on a path to restore justice." --Rev. Carol Howard, author of Healing Spiritual Wounds: Reconnecting with a Loving God after Experiencing a Hurtful Church, and pastor of Bedford Presbyterian Church
"In Not So Sorry, Kaya Oakes presents a thoughtful meditation on one of Jesus's most challenging commandments: that we forgive those who have wronged us. With compassion, curiosity, and conviction, Oakes invites us to consider the implications of forgiveness in a fraught age." --Michael J. O'Loughlin, author of Hidden Mercy: AIDS, Catholics, and the Untold Stories of Compassion in the Face of Fear
"Kaya Oakes has long been one of my favorite writers on the religion beat, but I can testify that no work of hers has challenged me like Not So Sorry. When you believe, as I do, that the genius of Christianity is its offer of mercy to even the worst of sinners, it is bracing, and difficult, to be reminded of the limits of forgiveness and the perils of cheap grace. In an age when abuse has been exposed as rampant, and accountability is so rare, Oakes's call to rethink forgiveness by centering survivors and reminding us of all the ways the powerful use and abuse the language of faith is essential reading." --Matthew Sitman, host of the Know Your Enemy podcast
I’ll be sending out those digital copies in a few weeks, so here’s that link again.
Thanks so much. And I promise I won’t be sending out a bunch of these self-promotional emails because, frankly, I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.