Book signings can be uniquely depressing events, the classic party where nobody comes. You go to a store, someone hands you a Sharpie, you sit at a desk behind a short stack of books . . . and nobody shows. Most every author could tell you that story, between muffled sobs and shots of bourbon. (Muffled shots and sobs of bourbon?) Even worse, there are the ordinary patrons of the store who did not come for the “special author appearance” but, instead, arrive solely to purchase a new cookbook for Cousin Muffy. They wander near the author’s table, curiously sniff, give a tight-lipped (suspicious) nod, then perambulate over to Paperback Bestsellers.
Or you have this conversation, while they gingerly pick up your book as if it were an explosive device:
Patron: “Did you write this?”
Author: “Yes, it’s a children’s book.”
Patron: “I don’t have any children myself.”
Author: “I see.”
Patron: “They should all be cooked in boiling lard!”
Which is why I’ve pretty much sworn off the humiliation of book store signings.
I’ll be at the Open Door Book Store in Schedectady, New York, on September 27th, from 1:00 - 2:30.
Stop in for a chat.