Beyond the Book Launch: Why I’m Still Fighting to Share the True Story of Jo van Gogh

My 100th post: Lessons learned six months since book launch

First time I see my book in print a year ago! Excellent help from my promotion team.

Six months ago, my book, Saving Vincent, rocketed out into the book-verse. Now, I’m taking a pause from the usual hair-on-fire meteor flame of book promotion to ask a simple, frightening question:

Giiirrrlll, what difference are you making?

This feeling—this pressure—is a world away from the solitary cocoon years of writing (and rewriting and revising and then starting over) to craft my book. The launch was one galactic leap; today, the pulsing drumbeat to incite discovery of Jo’s story is an entirely different vibe.

My buddy Vincent van Gogh once wrote: “Great things are done through a series of small things brought together.” For six months, I’ve been living that quote—one small/mighty step at a time.

This drumbeat has yielded milestones: a second printing of the book, my publisher selling Russian foreign translation rights, and my Amazon book reviews nearly cresting one hundred (as I write this, I have 96 reviews—feel free to help me get over the hump by leaving one here!).

I’ve picked up six literary awards and was just long-listed for the Chanticleer Goethe Award. This past week I completed my 35th speaking event.

Of course, for every success, there are dozens of smaller, unseen efforts: reader review campaigns, completing 22 applications for literary contests, networking, sending cold emails, writing customized pitches, and more. Ditto for podcasts, book fairs, and keeping my voice alive on the page (this essay marks my one hundredth weekly post(!).

And always saying yes to book clubs large and small for these groups are cream-of-the-crop book lovers. Super smart, always kind, generous and gracious.

Street & book fairs, book clubs and talks

But the hardest part is the nagging doubt: It never feels like enough. I pour tactics into the promotion bucket only to see a hole in the bottom. Am I making the right trade-off with my finite time?

And I don’t mean just today, but for my life?

This question hurls me back to a moment decades ago... I remember in living-color clarity a moment when I am driving our dark green Volvo station wagon on a suburban street when I glance in the rearview mirror at my 15-month-old daughter. I see her mop of forever messy thick dark hair and she catches my eye and smiles at me. Like a sharp rip in the fabric of the universe a truth sears my consciousness: “This. This moment is more important than all those hundreds of emails I absurdly slaved over.”

Our lives can fill with such petty nonsense sometimes.

So, at this moment of reflection, standing in the liminal six-month mark my baby book’s been breathing, let me record what’s truthful:

• The Power of Jo: The true story example of Jo van Gogh, who changed history by stepping up to champion and create a beloved, inspiring icon, her brother-in-law Vincent. Acknowledging this woman’s achievement is one more shove against a door attempting to close on women’s and marginalized people’s accomplishments.

  
  

• Community: Real flesh-and-blood people who stand by me, starting with my Cuban BFF but extending out with ripples of love from friends and strangers alike.

  
  

• Partnerships: Pros—like my publisher, cover designer, editors extraordinaire, graphic designers, website wizards, and marketing strategists. I am learning, learning, learning from their dedicated creativity.

  
  

So, what’s next? I’m evaluating, reconsidering. Stepping off the lazy Susan of sampling many tactics to sharpen how/when/where to show up. For I’m not done. I still remain anchored in the importance of my book’s message for our times.

As one reader wrote in her Amazon review: “Saving Vincent is more than historical fiction—it is a celebration of vision, resilience, and the often-overlooked contributions of women who shape history. . . a heartfelt and unforgettable tribute to Jo van Gogh-Bonger, ensuring her remarkable story stands as firmly in the spotlight as the masterpieces she fought to protect.”

In gratitude,