Everything that counts

Can't be counted

Mary and Steve Camarillo, heading out for the Johnny Cash Trail.

I first met author Mary Camarillo (The Lockhart Women and Those People Behind Us) in the Summer of 2014 at the Community of Writers Conference. We found each other crying in a corner of the dinner patio following what seemed like too-intense manuscript scrutiny.

In a somewhat critical environment, I tend to gravitate to the kindest person in the crowd. In fact, the very best thing about that Sierra Nevada literary conference, and all the others I’ve attended, is the real friendship I’ve found with the kind writers hovering around the edge of the stage. I met Sue Staats at that conference and Dorothy Rice at the Napa Conference, which led to our working together for Stories on Stage Sacramento for years. I met Amanda McTigue and Joyce Salter as my roommates at the Community of Writers, and now, nine years later, we meet regularly on Zoom to test ideas and cheer each other on.

Mary and I continued to meet up in the years between 2014 and now at several other workshops and conferences, and the conversations we had there led us both to be published by She Writes Press, with books that launched in the same seasons. We have leaned on each other’s experience for quite a while now, in matters big and small.

Most of the writer-friends I talk to regularly agonize over the non-writing aspects of a writing life, including whether they ought to attend non-required conferences. But mainly the worrying is over the role of promotional events—launch parties, bookstore readings, blog tours… I know plenty of people who just don’t want their hours going to activities that take a lot of energy, energy that could go to writing itself. Especially when the time spent offers no guaranteed, measurable return on investment (book sales). I get it. Believe me, I get it.

I keep a sticky note on my computer monitor that asks the question, What is this for? It’s meant to keep me focused on using my time and effort intentionally, not spilling it over too many things that don’t mean much to me.

I have to admit, a couple weeks after Poster Girl’s publication day, with Thanksgiving tucked in there too, I’m feeling tired. I’m wondering about this tradition of scheduling so much in support of a new book. I’m wondering about that return on investment.

But with Mary’s visit this week for our events at East Village Books and Ruby’s Books, I’m reminded of Einstein’s line, “Not everything that can be counted counts and not everything that counts can be counted.”

What does that mean? The return on investment question definitely has merit. Is what I’m putting in worth what I’m getting back?

It’s just that a lot of what I get back is hard to measure.

Since I retired from teaching writing at Sac State, I’ve really missed the time spent talking with curious people about fascinating ideas (especially my office mates in Calaveras 149). I always loved that. Literary events give me a great chance to make up for that loss.

Because Mary and I have scheduled these intimate book events, we’ll get to play conversationally in the topics of our two very different novels, asking and answering questions of each other and those of whatever curious people come to join us.

This scratches a very deep itch to communally make meaning of a complicated world.

If you have this kind of itch yourself, and if you live in Northern California, I hope you’ll join Mary and me tonight or tomorrow night to be a part of the conversation.

Or consider joining me and Linda Joy Myers December 3 at Book Passage Corte Madera. Or sign up for an evening with the Rosie the Riveter Trust at the Hotel Mac in Richmond, CA December 7.

Maybe you’re like me. Maybe you long for conversation about the ideas in books, in a friendly, casual setting.

If so, here are some events where you’ll be very welcome this week and next.