Earlier this week the BBC reported on a girls’ school in London that had introduced two novel ideas. Failure Week (discussing how to cope with setbacks) and Blow Your Own Trumpet Week (discussing experiences of success and failure), were introduced by the headmistress to help the pupils learn that A) they can’t be successful at everything, and B) to recognise when they have been successful at something and feel good about it.
The article caught my attention because of the words ‘blow your own trumpet’. I’d been discussing this very matter with someone a few days previously – namely how uncomfortable it feels for writers to blow their own trumpets – especially for self-published authors who have to market their own books. There’s been much talk among the online writing community about how much self-promotion is too much, but if we don’t shout out about our successes now and again (such as mentioning glowing reviews from readers etc) then who will?
In an ideal world, we’d all have agents and publishers with shed-loads of cash who’d be blowing our trumpets for us while we get on with our job: writing. But times have changed, marketing budgets have shrunk, and social media is how writers try to attract readers to their books.
Do I love reading a positive review from a reader? Of course! Do I like pasting the link into a tweet and broadcasting on Twitter that someone liked my book? GOD NO! It makes me cringe to my core. It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught. In a word, to someone of a self-deprecating nature like myself, it feels like bragging. And who likes a braggart?
I feel so much more comfortable humorously putting myself down, probably because if I take the piss out of myself, it means I’ve beaten you to it, thereby stealing your thunder and your potential ability to hurt my feelings. An odd psychology maybe, but I’d imagine that’s how many people operate. The only time I ever brag with unabashed enjoyment is to wind up my husband, eg: “I’m gonna thrash you at table tennis, loser! Fifty quid says I beat you 10-nil.” That feels comfortable, but only because my husband knows I’m joking. (Although he also knows I speak the truth – I’m the undisputed table tennis champ of our household, let there be no doubt about that.)
But anyway, I’m digressing. I think Blow Your Own Trumpet Week is a great idea to help people recognise their successes. Sometimes all I can see is the mammoth journey ahead of me – the things I haven’t yet achieved but desperately want to. I rarely look back at what I actually have achieved and take a moment to feel good about it. So today, in honour of my achievements, humble though they may be when compared with JK Rowling, I shall blow my trumpet. Or maybe I’ll just ding a triangle. With extra gusto, of course.