Planning a virtual book launch; Part 1, hair tearing and panic attacks

Today, as you read this, the United States and most of the world are collectively holding our breath, hoping for peace while fearing the worst as one of the most momentous shifts in power takes place. I don't yet know how it will turn out, but my thoughts are with the United States today.

But meanwhile, closer to home and on a much more trivial scale, I have been wrestling with my own drama over the past two weeks. That is when I began planning the virtual launch of my latest book, which has landed with a soundless thud smack in the middle of the pandemic dead zone. How hard can it be? I asked myself. I've done lots of Zoom meetings and chats over the past year, some small and personal, others more formal. I've even hosted the odd friend meeting. 

Hah.

The first challenge was how to invite people. I have a disorganized contact list of emails that includes everything from my plumber to the fan who wrote to me from New Mexico. I have no newsletter, no mail chimp, no quick and easy way to separate out the plumber from the fan. As well, I needed to send out the invitations at least two weeks in advance in order to give people enough time to block it into their calendar, but two weeks is a long time to keep track of that Zoom invite if their inbox is as chaotic as mine. So I consulted Google and Facebook friends, and settled on the Eventbrite solution. Eventbrite keeps track of registrants and sends out reminders, and most importantly, it's FREE if the event is free.

I tackled Eventbrite, bringing my knowledge from about 0% to approximately 25% in a couple of days and designing an invitation. There were step by step instructions, and the chance to preview my efforts along the way. Next I needed to somehow link it to a Zoom event so that registrants would receive the link to access the event. I knew I had to test this invitation and its Zoom link to make sure it all worked right before I launched it out into the world, so I created a dummy event – a Zoom meeting – which I inserted into the invite, and then I sent it out to a few close friends to see whether the whole thing worked. It did, and we had a brief Zoom meeting to discuss problems that were encountered. Not many, other than the tedious business of setting up an Eventbrite account and registering. But as my friends pointed out, almost every online business requires you set up an account nowadays, so that shouldn't deter people.

Next I had to set up the actual real Zoom event. Oy. I had no idea how many people would actually attend, but the beauty of a virtual event is that people can tune in from all around the world. I have friends and family, and hopefully unknown fans, all over. I wanted to invite everyone I could think of who might be interested (although not the plumber). 50 people might come, or 150 people. Who knew? I have been to Zoom meetings with 50 little thumbnail faces all over the screen. It doesn't work. It also wouldn't work to have 50 people trying to talk at once. Reluctantly I realized I would need to mute the attendees and hide their videos, so the audience would only see and hear me. Which would be incredibly boring. So I opted instead for an interview format and asked my friend and thriller writer Rick Mofina to interview me.

Once I decided on a two-person interview plus Q&A, I decided that one hour was the perfect length for the event. Shorter, and you can't say all the fascinating things you want to. Longer, and the audience's eyes begin to glaze over. And the date and time was also important. What hour would be convenient for most people, considering this would go across time zones? I settled on 7 pm. Here in the east, most people would be finishing their supper but not yet asleep in front of the TV. On the west coast, it would be 4 pm, at the end of the major work day but before supper. Cocktail hour. I did get notices from across the pond saying it's 2 am for us here, for which I'm sorry. You can't accommodate everyone, as the Olympics found out.

Next I started to research how to set up a Zoom meeting for this format. Google, YouTube, tech contacts, and Facebook friends put in their two cents. It was suggested I could hire a tech person, but being an author with all the financial limitations that entails, I thought, how hard can it be? In the end, I realized I needed a Zoom Webinar, not a Zoom Meeting. So I set about learning everything I could about Zoom Webinars in two days. Time was getting short. I watched three live training sessions on Zoom (all free) and read through their guides and step-by step instructions. First of all, I needed to purchase the appropriate Zoom plan (the free basic 40-minute one wasn't going to cut it). I settled on the cheapest Webinar package for 100 participants which, added to the Zoom Pro Plan, brought the cost to about $75 CAD. I bought only one license, because only one person can be a host at a time. But I could assign co-host duties to someone else (my lucky daughter, in Toronto on her own computer) during the event so I didn't have to juggle everything myself while being interviewed.

Then I set about scheduling and configuring the Zoom webinar. Luckily the live Zoom sessions and set-by-step instructions made this a "relatively" easy part. I invited both Rick and my daughter as panelists, enabled the Q&A function, and did a couple of other things that I hope work. I chose "no registration required", because the attendees had already registered through Eventbrite. One of the beauties of Zoom webinars is that they allow practice sessions, so once the event is scheduled, you can do dry runs as often as you like. 

Next up came the process of sending out the invitations, running the practice session, and finally the event itself. All that is a blog post in itself, so stay tuned in two weeks for Part 2; no hair left but was it worth it?Here's the link to the Eventbrite invitation, in case you want to find out for yourself. Meanwhile, if anyone has held a virtual book launch, or attended one, I'd love to hear your thoughts.