Anatomy Of A Successful Book Signing Or Reading
Most book signings/readings suck. The whole event itself seems, from the outside, kind of preposterous: go to a bookstore, sit in an uncomfortable chair, listen to an author with all the outward personality of a used condom read, usually in a monotone, a passage from a book you've already read. Following that, stand in line until you're face to face with said author while he or she signs your book...which, in general, goes like this:
Author: Would you like your name in this?
Person: Yes!
Author: What's your name?
Person: Jennifer.
Author: Is that spelled like it is usually spelled?
Person: Yes, except there is only one f.
Author (thinking: Well, fuck, do I know how to spell Jennifer any other way but with one F? Have I been spelling it wrong all these years? What time does my plane leave in the morning? I wonder if I'll have time to Google myself in the morning? I hope that pain in my side isn't the onset of kidney stones...) Great. Would you like a special message?
Person: Any kind of writing advice would be great!
Author: (Signing: Never expect the 21 year old publicist at Simon & Schuster to actually send out ARCs in a timely fashion.) There you go. Thanks for coming.
Having been on both sides of this table, it still strikes me as a little odd. Why, after Elmore Leonard signed a dozen books for me (or, well, to Tom...but that's another story all together) did I immediately rush away to see what he'd written, as if he was going to say something about how he'd always hoped to meet me and could we please be bestest friends? Yet, when I sign books, I always try to say something specific about the encounter I've had with the person, knowing full well they'll probably do likewise. It's a vicious circle. And the readings themselves are usually mind-numbingly boring -- which might be the simple fact that most writers aren't the greatest public humans, owing in no small part to the amount of time they spent, you know, at home. Typing.
Like I said, most of these things suck, which is why the event I did with Aimee Bender the other day was such a welcome change. The crowd at Village Books was a crowd. There must have been upwards of 50 people there and when Aimee and I and our respective posses (in this case, Wendy and two friends of Aimee's) came walking up after dinner at Mort's Deli, there were literally people waiting at the door for us, which was pretty cool. The audience was lively and interesting, owing in no small part to the amount of other writers in the crowd, including Rob Roberge, Jim Ruland and Matt Witten, as well as a phalanx of fine spoken word folk like Rich Ferguson, Rachel Kann (who also happens to be a student of mine) & Doug Knott (another student of mine) and a ton of writing students from Rob & Jim's respective classes, as well as your run of the mill fans and such.
Aimee read first (she won the rock-paper-scissors-best-of-three contest, which, including ties, ended up going 7 deep) and was her usual compelling self, talking first about the story, the process of writing it and all sorts of other fun and interesting stuff. And, unlike the monotones mentioned above, she read with her usual flair and emotion and had the audience eating out of her hand. She actually didn't read a story from Willful Creatures, opting instead to read a selection out of the Best Non-Required Reading called Tiger Mending. I followed Aimee by reading "Faith, Love, Hope" from Simplify and then the two of us answered questions until it became obvious that we'd be answering questions all night long, which would have been fine if we owned the store, which we don't. What was cool for both of us, I'd wager, was that there seemed to be a tremendous amount of energy in the room, people asked great questions, and the two of us fed off of each other well. Normally, you finish reading your work and the audience sort of stares at you until whatever plant you've seated in the audience breaks the ice by asking, "What's your writing process?" The other cool thing is that no one asked how to get an agent, no one asked us where we both get all those great themes and motifs, and at no point did it seem likely that a person from the bookstore staff was quietly whispering to Wendy that they somehow forgot to order my books.
It was a cool night and it certainly did not suck.
Got any pictures of the event Tod?
Posted by: Stephanie | January 28, 2006 at 10:00 PM
dude...it was mucho fun...nice job...
though i am still recovering from the rude fucking woman next to me who smelled like the JC Penny perfume counter.
hack. hack.
Posted by: rob roberge | January 29, 2006 at 02:33 PM