How Not to Do a Book Signing

Last Saturday I dragged myself 47 miles into the South Side of Chicago to do a book signing. I had set this up shortly after the first of the year. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Black History Month and all that.

Of course, life being life, by the time the date rolled around I had what was at best an upper respiratory infection, at worst walking pneumonia, likely caused by drainage during a root canal a few days before. In hindsight, I think I could deal with tooth pain - with the help of codeine-laced pain medication - better than I could that unrelenting cough that has exhausted me for over a week now.

This is why I try not to commit to anything in advance. It's impossible to predict one's circumstances weeks or months ahead of the actual time. In the past I’ve had to cancel events for all sorts of reasons, all of them valid. My father passed away . . . my husband accepted a position in another state and we’re preparing to relocate . . . I'm recovering from unexpected surgery.

Anyway, the mere fact that it’s February in Chicago should have told me something. The forecast for last Saturday did include snow. Fortunately, it happened early that morning, and by the time I set out the sun was shining and it was a balmy 28 degrees (considering the subzero temps earlier that week, I really mean balmy.) That didn’t change the fact that I would have preferred to stay home with my husband and see who could out-hack the other, since by this time he was also sick. (Picture it: Two middle-aged people laying in bed coughing at 3AM. It was, in a word, pathetic.)

As book signings go, this one turned out to be below average. The bookstore traffic was much less than usual, the staff told me. That might have been due to the snow that had been forecast . . . or it might have been due to the fact that a popular author was autographing her new book at a nearby Wal-Mart.

I did feel that there were some things that could have been done to make things go smoother. As I drove home, I remembered how my absolute favorite bookseller used to do things, which always put both me and her store at an advantage.

For one, she would set up a table in a prominent location (more about that later) the first thing that morning and have the books she ordered stacked on it for browsing, along with a sign saying I would be in the store later that day. As a result, people who were out and about hours before I arrived and were unable to come back while I was present often bought books in advance, leaving instructions on how they wanted them autographed and then returning at their convenience to pick them up.

Having my table set up beforehand also allowed me to get right to work at the business of selling books the moment I arrive. I hate having to hang around while bookstore staff go in the back to dig out a table, pull out the folding legs, put a tablecloth over it, bring out the books, etc., all of which takes several minutes to accomplish . . . once they finish with the people on the cashier line, of course. Fifteen minutes of my two-hour appearance can easily be lost in this process. It’s like, “Didn’t they know I was coming?”

My ideal bookseller would also place signs on the entry doors so that everyone entering the store would know I was going to be there. You can’t catch everyone – some people just don’t pay attention to the world around them – but this is a good effort. But the glass doors of this bookstore were covered with posters announcing that the latest Harry Potter book is coming in July, only five short months from now. Now, I ask you, does J.K. Rowling's massively successful series really need such advance publicity? I liken this to Oprah choosing Sidney Poitier’s autobiography to be her latest book club selection instead of some struggling author no one’s ever heard of. Okay, so she can do what she pleases, but it would be nice if some unknown could get some sales. It turns out that the edict to cover the doors with Harry Potter posters was handed down from Corporate.

Did I mention the table should be in a prominent location? At this store, my table was not on the first level by the fiction section, but upstairs . . . with the children’s books and the music CDs. Come on, folks. This one is common sense. Sure, the café is up there, too, but people come to book stores to browse, not to eat. I personally am old enough now where climbing stairs tends to leave me breathing hard, like I just carried a piece of furniture a half block. I can’t expect other people in my age group to climb a long flight to meet me if I’m not willing to do it myself. At my request the store personnel moved my table downstairs. Had I stayed there, I doubt I would have sold anything.

As I said, this signing didn’t rank among my more successful ones. But I passed on a few pointers to the store where I’ll be appearing tomorrow to wrap up Black History Month on things they can do to help move things along.

Truth be told, I’m not expecting much from the signing. Chicago is under a winter storm watch. In fact, if the weather is truly bad, I’ll reschedule.

That'll be it for me and book signings until June, when my 2007 releases will both be out. By that time of year, weather will not play a role.

So I'll skip Black History Month in the future. And I'll cross my fingers that subsequent books will be scheduled for the spring and summer months, at least while I call Chicagoland home.

Wish me luck!