bookstore struggles
Generally I don't read a lot of medical thrillers. Just not my cup of tea, with a few exceptions. It's actually rather odd of me, as I've always been interested in medicine and almost went in that direction in school. And then there's my life-long, inexplicable interest in medical clerking. I know, it's nuts.
Tess Gerritsen writes medical thrillers. I've read one or two of them and liked them quite a lot. I like her blog too, as I've mentioned here on occasion. Now she has a really painful, wonderful post about what it's like to be an author on a bad day. The weblog is here, but there isn't a way to link directly to the post, which is dated 8/24.
Here's what happened: While in Hawaii she went to various bookstores to sign stock of her new novel (Vanish), and she got a really awful reception almost everywhere. Unless you are Stephen King (you're not, I assume, but do check the photo to the right to be sure) or somebody else so high profile that your name and face are immediately recognizable, this kind of thing will happen. No doubt it happens to Alice Munro and John Updike too. The list of people it doesn't happen to is short -- I can think of maybe three authors. Of course, that's small comfort when you're crawling away with your tail between your legs, I know. One small thing you can do: Don't tell them you're there. Just sign all the damn stock they've got on the shelf. Returns, my ass.
My own worst experience along these lines has to do with our local Barnes & Noble. When we first moved here I went in two or three times to sign stock, and I got the same kind of treatment Tess did. Even after I introduced myself, it would happen again the next time. Of course, I wasn't just passing through town -- I live here. But I don't shop at B&N, so I didn't get too upset about it; I just stopped going in to sign stock.
Then about two years ago Susan Wiggs, who writes great novels and is also a good and thoughtful person, contacted me to say she was going to be at our B&N to do a panel on romance writing, and would I be there too? Well, no. I hadn't been asked. The B&N store had invited four people who write romance from all over the western side of the state, but not me. I was, I admit, a little affronted. So Susan asked the B&N person about all this, and the next thing I got was an email, which said something like this: "We understand you'd like to participate. We can make room for you." Of course Susan did not put it to them this way. It was their less than charitable interpretation. She sez: did you realize Sara Donati lives in your town? And they say: well, gee, sure, if you insist. Not the most diplomatic way to invite an author to spend an hour at your store.
I responded. Okay, I responded a little testily. The person in charge of organizing got all affronted and insulted and the exchange did not end well. Just as well that I don't shop there. I think they might have put up my picture behind the counter. I imagine they've written on it in black marker: crazy author of insignificant novels with delusions of grandeur. confiscate all writing instruments. call the cops.
However, whenever I have a new novel out, I do call them. I block my caller ID, and I ask them if they have the new novel in stock, and how many copies? I do that a couple times. And then I have my friends do it, too. You could call them, if you like. When the next novel comes out I'll post their phone number. Just in case you're curious, and want to know.