The Farmers’ Market that never Happened (But is the Reason You’re Reading This Right Now)

I like to think of myself as a motivated person, but I have a serious case of ADHD which can sometimes shuffle the priority of my current projects into whatever happens to be shiniest in the moment. Meds help considerably, but so do deadlines. Without deadlines, I can end up making substantial gains on projects from 2016 and forget to pay the trash bill. Lists and the trusty brain dump hack are also helpful—if that is, if I can read my handwriting or interpret my hellacious spelling. Three cheers for dyslexia, level two out of three on my personal neuro-spicy scale.

Since I have a whole timeline of writerly tasks I’m bound and determined to complete this summer, I did what any other obsessive planner would do and worked backward. Paramount was launching this website. But to make sure I’d stick to that goal, I contacted my local farmers’ market about getting a booth. What does a website have to do with sourdough bread, goat’s milk soap, and fresh berries, one might ask? Nothing, directly and everything motivationally.

A MARKETING MOTIVATION MASH-UP

I figured if I was ready to talk to agents about my book, then I should be ready to talk to regular people about my book. Or at the very least, start getting over my hesitancy about it. It’s one thing to say that I’m a writer, but it’s quite another thing to assert that I’m querying the gatekeepers of the publishing industry.  It’s a ballsy thing to do, querying. An even ballsier thing to talk to complete strangers with some degree of aplomb that you are optimistic about the process, when really, you’re terrified. But if I don’t believe in myself, who else will?

While shameless self-promotion is my primary motivation for being a vendor at the farmers’ market (and other venues around town) it’s not my only one. I also care passionately about literary citizenship, the idea that writing and reading community should prop up the ecosystem instead of bookselling being a competitive, zero-sum. There are many ways to be a good literary citizen, and I’ll be exploring this concept extensively on Inquisitive Ink in future posts.

Anyhow, I got to thinking that I could combine my author presence with my passably decent handmade merch with weekly literary talking points—which could be anything: Genres, banned books, library book sales, book clubs, why supporting indie bookstores over big box and amazon is so important, etc. Of course, I have plenty of giveaways like handmade bookmarks for big people, and book-themed coloring pages for the little people. It’s Pride Month, so also made Pride buttons to pass out to my LBGTQIA+ friends and allies.

I set a hard deadline of Saturday, June 6th. Come what may I was going to be ready. My website would be functional, and I was going to show up with a professional looking booth. And Hallelujah! By Friday night, my car was packed and my website had launched—albeit with a few bugs.

I checked the forecast before bed…damn! It was supposed to rain.

 And it did. A lot.

SATURDAY MORNING

In the morning, for whatever reason, I missed the vendor group message that said we could delay set up due to the storm. Doggedly determined, and working off the last information I had, I set up in the rain, but it didn’t start coming in sideways until everything was entirely in place. My pop tent didn’t have side panels, so no matter how far I pulled my tables under, I couldn’t keep anything dry.

I panicked. Being a complete rookie, I hadn’t thought of bringing tarps. It was now an hour into the market, only four vendors had shown up, and we hadn’t seen a single shopper.

Entirely dispirited, I decided to cut my losses and pack up, not wanting to lose any additional product. Of course, by the time I had everything back in my car, the sun was out, and the other vendors were arriving. At that point, I couldn’t have stayed if I wanted to. My email sign-ups looked like used-Bounty-quicker-picker-upper sheets, and my poster, the tool I’d planned to use as my talking point, had tracks of not-so-permanent marker running down the length. I hadn’t cried at that point, but the poster sure looked like it had.

My consolation treats

Before I left, I walked around and talked to some of the others, buying myself some consolation treats: fresh Amish flowers, a giant lemon blueberry cookie, and a pen. (Because gods know I don’t have enough of those.)

WHAT I LEARNED

Strictly speaking, my first Farmers’ Market was a bust. But that’s only if you’re looking at it from a sale and leads perspective. When I think about all I accomplished just getting there. All the little tasks I had to complete to make it possible, most notably this website, June 6th was a far cry from failure. Furthermore, I learned some nuts-and-bolts aspects about the market itself, like when and where to double check for info, and to use a radar app instead of relying on Google weather (LIARS!!). I’ve already put some of my items in plastic baggies that I hadn’t previously, which, while I don’t love the aesthetic as much, will protect them from the elements. A friend suggested shower curtains as a more cost effective alternative to side panels, so I bought some of those. It was all a learning experience. What good is any hardship if we don’t learn from it?

Provided rain isn’t in the forecast, I’ll try again this Saturday. I still have people to meet, books to discuss, coloring pages to pass out, and if I’m super lucky, email addresses to collect. More importantly, now that the website is live, the next deadline moves to the top of the list. I won’t say what it is or what my timeline looks like, just that it requires another high level of concentration.

Wish me luck and some ADHD focus!