It’s just over a year since the lovely night of my Book Celebration – I know because Facebook Memories told me, but I also know because it was just such a special night that it is pinned in my brain.
That FB memory has prompted a couple of days of happy reverie, as I look back over what the sharing of Who Stole Grandma? has given me (and to us).
First of all, just to be up front and honest . . . what it hasn’t given me is millions of pounds, or even thousands of sales. It has, however, allowed me to cover all of my £700 costs (AND I have even made a few hundred pounds profit) and rather joyously WSG did top several Amazon best seller listings (for about 48 hours – in some very niche categories 🤣).
What WSG has given me, much more specially is a series of moments that I treasure and the awareness that there is a (very tiny) community of people with whom the book resonates, so I thought I’d share a few with you.
A few weeks ago, while we were still warm in France, a friend from our college days reached out and suggested a drink. I hadn’t heard from him for years, but we messaged back and forth and arranged to meet in a Birmingham city centre pub, revelling in the prospect of being retirees out on a school day.
When we got together, we chatted about work and retirement, and our different experiences of being in Anglo-Indian marriages, and lost friends. Then, without any preamble, he stunned me by saying, “So, Mark, your book . . . congratulations!”
I was rather taken aback! I had thought of taking him a copy, but I’ve sort of stopped carrying them round (not!). It turned out that I needn’t have worried, as he announced that: he’d ordered himself a copy; had read it, in depth; had found that it moved him and resonated with his own anticipation of imminent parental happenings. He then proceeded to quiz me about particular episodes and moments! You could have knocked me over with an infant Pygmy Shrew’s whisker!
This friend, who I hadn’t seen in years, managed to take me back to feeling proud that WSG has had the impact that I’d hoped, because in amongst the laughter and tears that it had provoked in him, it had given hope and optimism in the face of the sadness that he is expecting to come.
I have been grateful and touched each time people from my past, some of whom I have not seen for over four decades, pop unbidden into my Messenger feed to say, “I just wanted you to know that, I’ve been reading WSG and . . .”
Two of the most special were:
- “Hi Mark, My mum is dying from cancer. We are down to palliative care. Just to let you know that your book has been a great comfort to me in my care of mum in the time we have left with her 👍🏻” 💜
- “Started WSG this morning, while caring for my dad – not a well man. Am totally gripped. A great way of telling the harsh way life hits you. Due to my dad’s caring needs, I can empathise with you. On to the next chapter – pitstop for a sausage and marmalade sandwich now complete.” (Sausage and orange marmalade sandwiches were considered a delicacy at the boarding school we went to 🤣.) 💜
I have also been grateful for the special moments of connecting with people I only know because of WSG:
- People around the world that I’ll almost certainly never meet, but who encouraged me when I shared the draft of WSG on Facebook, and responded to my enquiries about how on the Earth they’d come across my tiny blog and crucially what they really thought of the chapters they were reading and whether WSG was ‘good enough’ – together, they gave me the confidence to publish it;
- The complete strangers, who joined a gaggle of friends to offer to proof read WSG (or coerce their partners into doing so), when I baulked at spending the necessary £3000; their generosity and intelligence allowed me to publish a much more polished version;
- People that I have actually met in the flesh, only because of WSG, sometimes warmed by Languedocian sunshine, sometimes on a doorstep in Birmingham or a front room in Smethwick, and in several places in between, but always with a sense of friendship;
- Ameesha at The Bookshelf Ltd, who helped me get WSG onto Kindle, who I never met until the Book Celebration, but who I connected with via Teresa, who had never met, but who knows Jill, who I know through being colleagues in Birmingham schools;
- Jenny at the truly wonderful Bear Bookshop (see below).
I now know that I can write and I also know that I’m pretty pants at promotion, but I have done some fun promotion things:
- Walked tremulously into Bear Bookshop, an honest to goodness, proper bookshop and said, “I wrote a book and I have a dream of seeing it on a bookshelf in a ‘real life’ bookshop,” to which Jenny said, “I’d love to make that happen for you!” WSG has been on her shelves for a whole year – and they have sold 😊;
- Held the Book Celebration, which was tearful and joyful and silly and immensely special, in that same bookshop (now, understandably, one of my absolutely favourite shops), surrounded by friends with the addition of a sprinkling of people I’d met through WSG;
- Been supported by a friend who took up the challenge of getting a copy of WSG to Graham Norton (because GN is a) a supporter of Parkinson’s UK, b) a brilliant author, c) just gorgeous!) * I have no idea if GN ever read WSG, but I like to think that he has held it 🤣;
- Sent a copy of WSG to Mike Tindall, prompted by a BBC interview in which he was talking about living with his father’s PD. * I have no idea if MT ever read WSG, but I know that it found its way to him;
- Had messages from friends, declaring, “Mark, I just heard you on the radio!” (The very kind daughter of a very special friend wangled me a slot, which gave me a very big head for a couple of days and led to some lovely enquiries);
- Had WSG added to the shelves of a couple of Smethwick Libraries;
- Held a book reading at Thimblemill Library, which is where Moosh used to take each of her grandchildren when they were small and she was in N°1. Childminder mode;
- Recorded a podcast for The Bookshelf.
I decided very early that I wanted to use the promotion of Who Stole Grandma? to raise money for Parkinson’s UK. WSG is not about Parkinson’s Disease, it’s about living that sad part of life as lovingly and as laughingly as possible, but PD is the illness that Moosh had in those seven years that the book is set in. We didn’t know about Parkinson’s UK when Moosh was alive, but I wish we had.
Supporting Parkinson’s UK put me in touch (via a friend of a dear friend) with Gayle (regional fund raising coordinator) and Barrie (ambassador). The first things Gayle asked me was why I’d chosen Parkinson’s UK, was it in memory of someone and did I know anyone who was affected. I spoke about Moosh, but also about Aly, who is intrinsic to the book and who had, herself, recently been diagnosed. Gayle ‘s focus switched away from fundraising and awareness raising to what support could be offered to Aly.
Both Gayle and Barrie, came to the Book Celebration and added so much content, knowledge and depth that I could not have given, but it was the quiet moment at the end, after publicity photos were taken, that I am most grateful for. Barrie spoke to me about his experience of PD and about Aly and offered to reach out to her. He did. And he has. And he continues to. And Aly feels blessed.
In the end we raised a smidgeon over £4500 💜
Somewhere in all of this, the generosity of people towards me and about WSG allowed me to see myself as an author, a writer, a person whose words are read by a small gaggle of people, whose words can move them.
A friend of ours is a well known broadcaster and a prolific author of fabulous books (I am a little in awe of him), so, I was a little too chuffed, when he said to me, “Mark, you can’t imagine how many people tell me that they want to write a book, but you told me that you wanted to and you’ve actually done it. Congratulations!”
Similarly the unexpected text from someone I barely know, but have great respect for, saying, “I was given your book as a present. Just finished it and I am in awe. My Mum died in September – I was both her carer AND her blue-eyed boy. Can we get together to talk?”
I do get a bit embarrassed talking about WSG in a group situation, so when a friend, who I admire for her intellect and unwavering feminism, appeared next to me at a dinner party, whispered to me, “Finally had time to read WSG. You write really well!” and then whisked herself away, I was relieved not to be the centre of attention, but touched by her approbation.
And then, last Saturday, I was talking about WSG and about capturing stories with a person I’d never met. When I was giving her my number, she popped it in her phone and tagged me ‘Author’. That gave me a silly / happy frisson of delight! HMW nudged me and chuckled, “You’re not a headteacher anymore, Mark: you’re an author.”
Becoming a writer was one of my three Retirement Dreams. If you are reading this, you’ve clearly found this blog, which keeps me out of mischief, but there is also a good chance that you are already a member of the community around ‘Who Stole Grandma’. If that is true, Thank You 🙏🏽
On a deeply personal note: all of this has helped me keep Moosh with me. It’s her story, after all, much more than it is mine. She would have loved all of this!
Mark Lanyon Storyteller 