Okay, here goes:
Just back from doing a book event in Florida. The turnout was good, though it’s never as good as the powers-that-be promise it will be, as in pretty please/swear-on-my-mother’s-grave/this-will-be-so-good-for-your-career/last year-10,000 people-showed-up-for-Stephanie Meyer. I’m a veteran of that particular war, plus I don’t write vampire novels, so I know not to be suckered by such promises. I pick and choose. Some of the highlights of my still wet-behind-the-ears book touring days:
The booksigning in Boston to which only one person showed up: My ex-boyfriend from 30 years ago, who’d burned me by hitting on my sister while he and I were still dating. To top it off, he didn’t buy a book! (Don’t worry, I got back at him the next day when I did a radio talk show and told ALL. Just hope his wife was listening.)
The time I was the flashing blue-light special at a K-mart type store called Caldor’s. They kept announcing over the PA system that I could be found in the “jewelry” section. Passing shoppers looked at me like I was a meteor that had crashed through the roof—a possibly radioactive one; not one stopped to get a book signed. My then-husband was my only buffer against abject humiliation. And even he tried to desert me at one point, because, he said, “We need shampoo.” I told him he would need more than shampoo if he moved his butt so much as one inch out of his chair.
The library event in Oklahoma where the “organizer” had gone on vacation and somehow forgotten to tell her co-workers that I was slated to appear. At the last minute said employees cobbled together an “event” with their surly teenage children as shills. (Luckily I’m good with kids – I ended up winning them over. It wasn’t hard – I felt like a surly teen myself).
The booksigning that coincided with a historic blizzard. I was lucky to make it home, much less sell a single book.
The booksigning in Ft. Worth, Indiana – the heart of hoosier country – that coincided with basketball playoffs. Only one person showed up, a guy who wanted my advice on finding an agent for his “true-life” story of having been abducted by aliens.
This is why I no longer do booksignings. Sometimes you have a great turnout, but more often than not you find yourself competing with some sports event or other, the Rod Stewart concert at the arena that night, the Kiwanis Club’s annual fundraiser, parent-teacher night at the local school, or you name it. Weather is a factor, too, not just crappy weather. If it’s a sunny day, who the hell wants to be indoors? With evening events you’re up against dinner hour and also the fact that people who work are tired after a day at the office and would rather watch mindless TV than get in the car and drive to the Barnes & Noble to listen to an author speak.
That being said, I am always happy when I hit pay dirt. I don’t mean as in selling gazillions of books – I leave that to those who write vampire novels – but as in the bright, shiny faces of committed book lovers who also happen to love my books. I had such a crowd at this past weekend’s event. One woman was even in tears after I’d spoken. That one woman alone made the
trip worthwhile.
Oh, and one more thing: I learned from one of the other authors at the event that we weren’t all given the same accommodations. Some were at the posh hotel on the water, others at the Hampton Inn downtown. I was at the posh hotel on the water, so I guess that means I’ve arrived. Either that or I’ve been at this for so long, I get special privileges. Whatever the reason, I was glad for the comfy bed, flat-screen TV, and view of the bay.
Next stop, La Jolla, where another comfy bed awaits me.
Eileen Goudge
