It was one of those ideas that “seemed good at the time.” A volunteer organization in town had organized an author event. What a great way to promote our books, right? Readers would get to meet authors (who doesn’t like to do that?), chat, and buy a signed copy. Like an eager puppy, I sent an email that I was interested in being part of it.
I would say that I’m young and foolish, but that’s only half true (and not the young part).
How the Day Went
I arrived early, worried about how to set up my display and how I would appear compared with the other authors. Nightmares had been swirling in my head for a week or so. And I had done what I could to prepare—fives and ones on hand for the cash buyers who would probably hand me a twenty and want change, a sign showing the book cover, the price, a list of the stories, and some info about the book and me, and 5-1/2 x 8-1/2 flyers in glorious color complete with QR codes to the book online and to my website. I also had six copies of the printed book ready to sign. (I had started with ten copies, donated one to the local library, and sold three before this event.)
Another author was already there. She was a few years older than me. I helped her set up her display. (Tables were set up in the large room and had plastic table covers. There were two authors to a table except for one author who was the star attraction for some reason I never learned.) Then I found my name card on a table and set up my display on one side, anxious to see who my table mate would be. I was already feeling rather foolish. My book looked so small lying there on that pink plastic covering. And my sign looked wimpy, as did my flyers.
Now, I’m not new to marketing and promotion. But it’s been mostly online and for other people. So I was feeling my way. The older woman I had helped with her thick book on the complete history of some local site seemed far more professional. As more authors came in, my feeling of being an imposter and rank amateur grew. I entertained thoughts of packing up and leaving before the event began just to save myself the disgrace of not selling any books.
I was encouraging myself to stand strong when my table mate arrived, greeted me cheerfully, and began setting up.
She had a large rolling suitcase with her. From it she pulled two metal stands, piles of the various books she had authored (some self-published, others not), custom bookmarks, a plastic crystal-like tray in which she placed business cards, and a device for taking credit card payments.
I began dissolving into the wide wood floorboards until nothing could be seen of me but two eyeballs that no longer had eyelids and thus could not shut out the sights of her display and the others piling up on the tables around the room.
Not really. But it sure felt like that.
Somewhere inside I found the strength to stay, and it turned out not to be quite as bad as I had imagined. I had a nice chat with my table mate and with some of the attendees and other authors, and I sold all six copies, signing them all at the buyers’ requests.
Oh, one more thing: the air conditioning was blasting, so I was an icicle at the end of things.
Lessons Learned
Avoid taking part in an author panel.
The organizers had arranged for authors (three or four at a time) to go to another room in the building and sit as a panel. Several problems with this: people are there to meet the authors, not their table; the panels were extremely poorly attended; one of the authors on my panel dominated the discussion and the moderator didn’t stop her; I almost blew a gasket holding my tongue and not countering some of the nonsense that author spouted.Practice smiling for hours at a time.
My cheeks were soooooooooo tired after the four-hour event. And laughing at some of the totally lame comments got more and more difficult. (“It’s not too gory, is it?” “I scare easily.” “Why would anyone write something like this?”)Be ready for some rather odd encounters.
One woman spent several minutes in front of our table, blocking it from other attendees, explaining that she couldn’t buy any more books. Another person gave us his life story but didn’t buy a book. Two people said we inspired them to try to write a book. (Gee, if we normal nothings could get published, then anyone… sigh!) And then other authors popped over from their tables to check out the competition, which was fun except when they got that “no competition here” expression on their faces and went away laughing.Have fun, that’s what it’s all about.
Whether I’ll ever do this again remains to be seen. But I can certainly use it in future stories (and will). If you decide to participate in such an event, be prepared and stay positive. If you’ve participated in such an event already, I’d love to hear your experience.
Final Note
Marketing our books is hard work. And finding the right readers (as well as publishers) who will appreciate our writing is even harder. But it’s all part of an authors life.
Hope you found this helpful and have been inspired to start and/or continue writing!
See my article: Publisher Agent Fiction Genres Defined, with downloadable PDF.
Please check out my works in progress (WIPs). And thanks for reading.
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Thanks for reading. If you’ve been enjoying my flash fiction on here, please check out my first book of short stories (a couple are actually novelette length), newly published by Wordwooze Publishing. (I even designed the cover.)
An excellent read. Congrats for selling out! It makes me wonder how I'd do at something like that.
Oh my goodness, I can well imagine those people going to book events. I’ve been to quite a few years ago, and I usually found listening to some comments most hilarious. Second-hand book events are worse, the sellers sometimes don’t even know a thing about the books.
Well done on selling all books…doesn’t matter that you brought only a few, you sold them. Kudos for courage, keeping a stiff upper lip and staying put. 💙