Tuesday, October 9, 2012

When Swag Attacks




Gay Rom Lit is next week. For those of you who aren't familiar with it, GRL is a yearly gathering of writers and readers of GLBT romance. This year, it's being held in Albuquerque, New Mexico, which necessitates (horrors!) a plane flight for me. 

Not that I'm afraid of flying. I'm not. At least, not any more than most people, meaning I'm a little nervous at takeoff and landing. And in between the two, I like to keep my mind off the fact that there's nothing between me and the ground except lots and lots of air, and have lots of those itsy bitsy bottles of booze handy. Other than that, I'm golden.

No, the problem with flying to GRL is my swag.

It has to fly too. 

Again, for those reading this that need an explanation, swag is the term used in the industry (as well as many other businesses) to describe items emblazoned with our names that are given away to readers for promotional purposes. Swag can be virtually anything, as long as it advertises your name and website, and possibly your book title – pens, mugs, t-shirts, toilet paper...although readers wiping their butts with your book cover tends to send the wrong impression, in my opinion.

GRL is the swag-intensive convention I do each year, meaning I bring the most crap with me to this one. Not that my swag is crap. Not by a long shot. Not for what it cost me. 

For what I shelled out for it, my swag should not only advertise my name and website, but sing, dance, serve margaritas, and give backroom blowjobs as well. 

In any case, there's a lot of it, currently taking up all the available flat surface space in my kitchen. The table and counters are covered with it; the floor is stacked with boxes and bags, all of which needs to be consolidated into two large cardboard boxes for shipping.

Ah, excess, thy name is Kiernan Kelly.

Seriously, shipping is going to cost me almost as much as my plane ticket.

Not that I'm complaining. I'm not. I have no one to blame but myself. I'm the one who chose to buy the heaviest, bulkiest freaking swag on the market. I could've gone with the lightweight key chains, or pens, but no, not me. 

That would've been too easy.

In any case, by tomorrow it will all be stuffed, wedged, and squashed into the shipping boxes and on its way to the Hard Rock in Albuquerque. 

Where it had just better arrive on time, or there will be much teeth-gnashing and nail-biting in at the Hard Rock in Albuquerque, and many screaming phone calls to UPS. Believe me, UPS, you don't want that. The Hard Rock doesn't want it. Nobody does. It won't be pretty.

Next week, I hope to have a recap of GRL 2012 for you. For now, I need to get to stuffing those shipping boxes full of my crap. 

Er, swag.

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