EAGER BEAVERS & BUZZY BUGS

there's no shame in being eager, in fact I want you to be overwhelming.

Lots of publishing is a game of hard to get. A game of pretending you don’t really want something in order to seem what — cool, aloof, intellectual (intellectuals don’t have needs, right?—is this what we’ve been sold? They’re stiff.) In every sort of way it’s meant to feel exclusive (and hidden)—contest models, acceptances/rejections, submission process, advances, bestseller list formulas, book awards, agents, fees.

I’ve never been good at this. Whatever chaotic good is on the impulsive side, that’s what I have. I’m methodically impulsive. I know almost immediately if something is for me, and I follow that gut-instinct as far as it’ll take me. Sometimes I consult the higher powers—the ancestors, but mostly I move with haste. Yesterday an author asked me if I feel settled after returning home from Lauren K. Watel’s incredible launch for Book of Potions (see video!) and I said, “I'm unsettled by nature, haha. As my husband likes to say, "you can lower your shoulders."

Just a quick note about Watel’s debut book. For the third time this week, someone said to me, “I don’t think I’ve ever read anything like Book of Potions before.” If you could see me I’m doing an evil little finger tapping. Yes, yes, my dears. It’s truly brand new, and I’d like to giveaway two copies to subscribers here—all you have to do is comment below & share your thoughts in review form once you’ve read it (on a retail site, please, or Goodreads). (We’re going circle of trust here).

Blame my wonky nervous system, but (hyper-controlled) chaos and impulsivity has always been my go-to. It’s what I can lean on, actually. But I realize this style of doing doesn’t really fit the publishing mold, but rather than adapt, I’m going to make a little argument on behalf of folks who move this way—folks who are eager.

I know almost immediately from an initial email if I want to work on a book. We read every book that comes in before scheduling a call (at least typically) so I know before I schedule that call whether my instincts were right. And because I’m an obsessive control-freak, I usually respond to those emails within fifteen minutes. And I respond eagerly. I also know almost immediately after a call with an author if we would work well together—in a collaborative, creative way. I usually can tell if I’m the right (or not) person to publicize a book and promote an author for the next several months. I’ve honed my skills in figuring out energies over the last several years. If I leave a call and think, “huh, that’s going to be a lot,” (in a way that feels heavy and not thrilling) or I think, “that was really awkward,” and we just weren’t jiving, then I know I’m probably not the right person for that author to work with.

The Paw Patrol beavers are SO friendly.

But this … sometimes doesn’t serve me. I mean when I’m leading with anxiety (rather than impulse) it definitely doesn’t serve me, but sometimes I can feel authors who were excited in initial emails to query us about publicity, pull away because I’m too quick and/or too eager about the prospect. As if I should be reigning that in for exclusivity. As if, I’m desperate. And I don’t want to conflate this to romantic relationships (though they can work the same way), but I only work on books that ping something in me—we turn down … too many books probably, so many books it makes me a little uncomfortable if I’m honest, but I always leave room in my schedule for a gem that comes to the inbox late, or an author whose career I’ve watched and wondered if we would make a good partnership. I can be booked up for a season or a year, but I make room for projects that soul-heart-gut are books I want a hand in bringing into the world.

And I guess I’m writing this because I wonder what it means to be immediate in a publishing landscape that at every turn is kind of (or unbearably) slow. To have an idea and pursue it (though I am often convinced to sleep on it). To say yes rather than maybe. To gut it out. I don’t have exclusivity in me, which leads me here. I know eagerness is “cringe”—I know to be excited about something has gone out of fashion, I know we no longer hear squeals of delight from anyone over the age of eleven, (if this doesn’t bring you squeals of delight, I truly don’t know what will), but it’s time we brought that back.

The world (let’s be real, the US) is cruel, cruel, cruel right now. It’s time we put a little stock in enthusiasm. We embrace passion, and not the instagramified “passion project” of coloring with the expensive markers, but the non-lucrative hobby—the hobby you don’t have to post about, you just do in your little quiet corners. (The Little Mermaid was so good at this she dedicated a whole cave to forks). Not the girl-boss “I’m just really passionate about building a conglomerate,” but true, this is what I love, this is what I’m trying, this is what I’m a beginner at.

This reminds me of this video about toxic masculinity and male birds. (LOL). Embrace the male bird strut and stroll.

Hubba Hubba

When I’m eager about a project, I want to be able to say yes immediately without an author feeling like I’m too-eager? Eagerness is a sign of appreciation, get-up-and-go, hustle, a gut-yes. It’s not some weird sign that the club of Pine State isn’t exclusive enough. There’s no club. We work on books that strike us, surprise us, give us that buzzy feeling.

What I’m saying to authors too—post about your book a bunch. Send that letter to librarians. Visit your local bookstores (even if they’re kind of assholes to you—we can talk more about approaching independent bookstores). Post all the things that happen for your book. Write that perfect caption for your Publishers Marketplace announcement. Do that keychain giveaway. Make stickers. Be annoying about it, it’s your thing, and you worked hard. And if it feels good, embrace it. To me, it feels good to be like yes! yes! 100 times yes! I’m cheering at my desk. To put out that sort of energy in a world that is hell bent on making us hate things (not to be confused with being a hater, which I loooooove for you).

I’m going to share a not-so-secret secret with you. More happens for a book, the more you try, and the more you put yourself out there. I always tell inside publicity teams (teams that work for the publisher) that I work with on a book, I’m FOR overlap. I want people to hear about a book from a few different sources so they’re like okay, OKAY, I get it. There’s a fine line, right? I don’t like reading books when they’re SUPER BUZZY. I still haven’t read the latest Sally Rooney, for instance, even though I do love her. But I also do want the books I work on to feel a little overwhelming, a little domineering, a little … shall I do it? EAGER!

There are thousands, thousands, thousands, of books sold every year. Some get not a ping of recognition in the media landscape. Some people feel successful with a review and a podcast interview. Me, I kind of like a flood—a strategic flood. If you don’t put yourself out there, no one will look for you. It’s okay to have a billboard on the side of your metaphorical highways.

My husband’s brother works at our local science museum (yes, he is a celebrity in our house). And he brought us these sample bugs, we call them “buzzy bugs.” My toddler hated them immediately—he has never liked mechanisms moving that he doesn’t control. My seventeen month old says, “buzzy bug” every time we get on the changing table. So, we pull that little green bug out of its home (a change canister on our mantel), we flick his little switch, and he buzzes. And my baby squeals. And he buzzes the bug on his belly. And he buzzes his chin. And he buzzes the soft pads of his baby feet, and that’s how I want to feel when I work on a book, and how I want you to feel when you put one out into the world.

(He’s also very good at saying no, he must get that from me too).

As always, the Pine State calendar of events lives here, and you can buy our books here! You can also see what we’re working on and contact us through our website, Pinestatepublicity.com.

ICYMI: Electric Lit and Skylar Miklus named Lauren K. Watel’s Book of Potions a “Most Anticipated Poetry Collection of 2025,” and you can read an essay by Watel about the simmering anger of the collection in Adroit, Publishers Weekly & Geoff Graser interviewed Lisa Russ Spaar about her debut novel Paradise Close, an excerpt from Nicole Graev Lipon’s Mother and Other Fictional Characters is in this month’s issue of Boston Globe Magazine, Mom Egg Review also put it on this month’s bookshelf, Jesse Lee Kercheval has a new graphic piece in Solrad, a new (truly beautiful) review of Jessica Jacob’s unalone is up at Christian Century, Dr. Melody Glenn wrote about “wellness farms” and RFK Jr. for TIME, and Sanora Babb gets her due at the Academy of American Poets, and so much more on our Twitter & Instagram.