Gotta Get Rid of These Books
To take advantage of the holiday gift-giving tradition, I have scheduled five signings between next Saturday and early December: one at a grocery, where I sold 11 copies of My Lost Summer at a signing in May; three at Waldenbooks in Middletown, Dayton, and Columbus, Ohio; and the fifth and most recently scheduled is at a bank, my bank.
From my experience, books do not sell well in venues where books are not sold. (The grocery where I have sold and will sell again does sell books, and people who visit the grocery are in the buying mood.) However, I will take an hour and a half from my Friday afternoon and sit at the bank hawking my book to those interested simply because the employees at the bank, several of whom have read My Lost Summer, so graciously offered me this opportunity. Wish me luck there--and everywhere else. For I still have about 500 copies of the book taking up space in my house.
To get copies moving, what I need to do is follow through with some of the marketing ideas others have given me. A friend tells me that I should contact Catholic schools—where students buy their own books. Though inebriation is not a topic in My Lost Summer, she said my book could prove a deterrent to drunk driving as it offers insight into how someone’s life can be totally changed if he gets into an accident.
Last weekend at a family function, the teenaged son of my cousin told me that he read my book and liked it. He is the first young man who I know has read my book, and I was pleased he found it interesting. He said his teacher has read it and would like me to visit the school. If speaking would be worth taking a half day off work—if I was guaranteed a sale of five books at least—then I would definitely come to his school. But I haven’t followed through with it.
I’m thinking of doing it now, and my 2006 New Year’s resolution was (is) to call people right when I think about it, so that’s what I’m off to do: to start the process of speaking at schools. Hopefully, my stash of 500 will dwindle by the spring. Again, wish me luck.
From my experience, books do not sell well in venues where books are not sold. (The grocery where I have sold and will sell again does sell books, and people who visit the grocery are in the buying mood.) However, I will take an hour and a half from my Friday afternoon and sit at the bank hawking my book to those interested simply because the employees at the bank, several of whom have read My Lost Summer, so graciously offered me this opportunity. Wish me luck there--and everywhere else. For I still have about 500 copies of the book taking up space in my house.
To get copies moving, what I need to do is follow through with some of the marketing ideas others have given me. A friend tells me that I should contact Catholic schools—where students buy their own books. Though inebriation is not a topic in My Lost Summer, she said my book could prove a deterrent to drunk driving as it offers insight into how someone’s life can be totally changed if he gets into an accident.
Last weekend at a family function, the teenaged son of my cousin told me that he read my book and liked it. He is the first young man who I know has read my book, and I was pleased he found it interesting. He said his teacher has read it and would like me to visit the school. If speaking would be worth taking a half day off work—if I was guaranteed a sale of five books at least—then I would definitely come to his school. But I haven’t followed through with it.
I’m thinking of doing it now, and my 2006 New Year’s resolution was (is) to call people right when I think about it, so that’s what I’m off to do: to start the process of speaking at schools. Hopefully, my stash of 500 will dwindle by the spring. Again, wish me luck.
posted by Elizabeth Evans Fryer at 2:15 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home