They’re a bit odd aren’t they?
You see them on tele, all fancy like, long queues, tired signing arm, disappointed crowd when they announce it’s time to pack up and go away.
Proper mint, like.
And mine were almost exactly like that.
Except, of course, for the long queues. And for anyone caring that I was packing up and going home. I did have a tired signing arm, but that was largely through lifting grande coffees.
And I spent far more in store than I made. Let’s see…. At fifty pence (each) a book I made… hmmm £12.50. And spent…. Hmmm… Around £30. So, through the genius and magic of maths that gives me… - £17.50.
Ah well, one day it’ll all be worth it. If nothing else it’s got me in the three for section for a bit – and that’s where all the cool kids hang out, how.
Anyways – it was good fun. First one was good, a bit lonely (my Kick Ass Cool PR Guru wasn’t feeling too well, it seemed cruel to then insist she stand with me for four hours… I’m just not that mean. Honest.) but since she had provided me with Postcards it worked well. A scattering of them in the crime section at Borders, on the tills and on the little tables they leave out for you to sit around… It worked well.
But, the second one… Well… It really was an example of my genius.
The postcards stay in my satchel (Manly bag of Masculinity and Buffness). My satchel (Manly bag of Masculinity and Buffness) stays in the car or on my shoulder.
So I arrive. Without my satchel. Cos, like a fool, I’d brought it in into the house the night before to extract some books and stuff from it. And not returned it to the car.
And had forgotten my phone.
So no reinforcements.
Except no, wait, the most cool as Vix is here with me, and she has her ph – oh, no, she’s left it in her other trousers.
So – no postcards. How disastrous will this be, how?
I mean, I’m an unknown author – no one will make the trip especially to see me will they, especially not if they know me. And, really, I know full well I would never, ever approach a table with someone sat at and browse through their book.
Because it’s that very English thing – this politeness malarkey – so you flick through it, you talk to the author, you try to sound interested. At this point it’s impossible to put the book down isn’t it? You can’t just drop it can you?
So you take it away, possibly signed, and dump it somewhere else in the shop.
I try attacking people – it’s the Crime section afterall, people should be expecting it, and sometimes it works. My Kick Ass Cool PR Guru wanders about placing my book in prominent places.
I steal “Borders Recommends” slips and fill them in – PR Guru sly places them on the Favourites shelf…
And we wait.
And, actually, we do ok.
14 sold, 15 signed. (Oh yes, that’s right! One person actually brought their own copy for me to sign, it was like being a real author. Was cool as, like)
So – next time I need to get better organised.
Next time I might bring DK – get some dancing in the aisles (not with hot beverages though kids – don’t try it at home).
Which reminds me – it’s half term for me next week and so, between looking at piles of marking (then hiding them) and writing (aiming for 500 words a day) I will, I promise, get DK’s Disco Come Back up on YouTube… Somehow…
Oh! And before I forget, go here and vote for me!! Cos, you know, I’m proper mint, how…
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