I can get so worked up and nervous before certain events, that I simply cannot do anything that day, other than get dressed and such like. I have to factor this in, so that I expect a short event to take more out of my day than it ought to.
But at the same time, I try and get things into perspective. Why am I about to do what I am fretting over? What is important and what should I just leave alone?
So I was intrigued to hear about the book fan at YALC the other weekend who had a different kind of fear of missing out. She had been so dead set on being first in the signing queue for a particular author that she hadn’t gone to the event preceding the signing. She clearly suffered fear of missing signing. It’s a shame, since if you are that much of a fan, you’d obviously want to attend the actual event.
My own strategy for this kind of thing is to leave early, having arranged to sit conveniently close to the exit (I mean even more conveniently than I usually aim for…). You only need a couple of minutes, and a clear head; knowing where you are heading for, and to do it before everyone else.
I was reminded of this when coming across our signed War Horse this week. Daughter and I spied the designated table for Michael Morpurgo at the National Theatre (this was half term, and MM was present for some reason) before sitting down to watch the play, and determined to get there before most of the rest of the Olivier audience. And we did. There was no way we could have afforded to stand in that queue for an hour.
Similarly, we cased the joint in Cheltenham many years ago, to see the layout of John Barrowman’s signing after his event. We calculated five minutes, and Daughter got up to run during the Q&A session, while I was packhorse and looked after our belongings. That worked too.
You can have your author event and the signing. It’s a pity if you miss out.
(What we’d do if everyone copied us is another thing. I’d prefer it if they go to different events from me.)