13 don’ts I learned while writing, editing, marketing, and promoting my book.
Want a fold-up doll? Buy my book!
So I guess I am still in the middle of promoting my latest book, and I would like to pass along some tips or reminders in the form of Don’ts for y’all out there if your book is coming out soon. Don’ts are as good, if not better, than Do’s for this writer; perhaps it’s the whole I-went-to-Catholic-school-for-the-full-12-years thing, or I just like to be bossed around; in any case, for some of you, these items are understood, for others it may be useful. In no particular order, here we go.
1. Don’t worry about the niche until the niche finds you. And it’s all about niches. I wrote prose pieces for years until I figured out that there was some realization that what I was writing would be classified and filed as Humor in a bookstore. To work backwards from this—looking at the Humor shelf in a bookstore, then write a book—would be murder for me. And for you. But don’t take this niche-riffing from me; see Bob Lefsetz, who says there is no mainstream, just a bunch of niches.
2. Go ahead have a gimmicky title, but don’t take it too seriously. And don’t take seriously people who do. People title things to grab people’s attention, but that’s it. Rarely is it more than that (exceptions: The Bible, Dictionary, Thesaurus). The people who take titles too seriously, by and large, are reviewers—professional or amateur—who riff on the title in their reviews. How to Be Inappropriate is just that—a title. It’s neither how-to nor instructional manual. I am guilty of this myself as a reviewer (see the lede of my review of Kevin Sampsell’s A Common Pornography here), but I like to think I use such riffs only for same purpose as authors’ entitling—an attention-grabber.
3. Don’t rely on yourself as a proofreader. Hire a proofreader, barter with one, massage one, bribe one. Your publisher will proof your work after you turn in the manuscript, but no matter how clean your copy is, they won’t catch it all.
4. Don’t proofread your own galleys. You know that proofreader from Don’t #3? Get someone like that person again. So your book looks perfect because it’s all in a different font and there are pages numbers, right? Wrong. Also: If you’re sick of your book by then, it’s probably not a good book.
5. Don’t ask famous strangers for blurbs. Ask people who tell you beforehand that they like what you do. And ask them personally. Don’t rely on your publisher to do that; most are nice about it and want to ask people on your behalf, but my experience–as well as others I have known over the years—is that it’s best to keep this inorganic experience of asking jacket-mentioners as organic as possible.
6. Don’t read from your book at readings, by which I mean physical copy of the book. Reading directly from a book is death to most of us with any kind of eye condition.People do this all the time, and so do I. But, if you’re as near-sighted as I am, or use any kind of corrective vision, most likely reading from a book while standing up with lights on you is not the way to do it. So: Print out your pieces in 14-point writing with ample margins.
7. Don’t read from another book at readings, by which I mean physical or otherwise. You know how writers, who are on tour in support of their new book, don’t read from their new book? How they say, “you know, I am going to read from something new tonight”? Don’t fucking do that. People came to hear you read from your new book. Read the new stuff when you’re not the main attraction, out loud to your partner in bed, or put it up on YouTube. See that stack of copies of your new book on the table the bookstore person put there? Read from that.
8. Don’t take reviews too seriously, good or bad. This especially applies to all the depressed or neurotic people out there; which, if you’re a writer, you most likely are. I have had more than my share of bad reviews over the years, and also more than my share of great reviews. The trouble I have experienced is that I have no capacity for storing up the boost I get from the good ones to counter-act the bad ones when they arrive; nor have I, thankfully, developed the capacity to retain the dread entirely from bad reviews to rain on the good reviews’ parade. I just ride the wave of whatever review is out at that moment. For a writer to think he or she is as good or bad as their last review or blog comment is just madness. Don’t do that shit I do.
9. Don’t give away your books. Sell them. When my first two books, God Save My Queen and God Save My Queen II, came out, I was more than happy to give them away or sell them at cost. I think I was just happy to have a book. I ran around like Rip Taylor with a bucket of confetti and gave out copies to anyone who looked at me. Don’t do that. People will buy your books, trust me.
9a. Do give out free stuff. Give people posters, balloons, condoms, bottle openers. Fold-up dolls of yourself (see above). Just not your books.
10. Don’t feel guilty not having your event at the local indie bookstore. Some indie bookstores are great, but here’s the thing: a good number of them suck. Or they don’t cater to the kind of readers you are looking for. Or they don’t promote their events. Or people don’t go to events there. So: do it at a bar, church, expository writing class, or living room (Stephen Elliott‘s story is the go-to for some of this).
11. Don’t, for fuck’s sake, forget to time your readings. I used to do this, and wish I did it more. Sometimes it really counts. I recently took part in a Literary Death Match, which requires readers to not read more than seven (7) minutes. If you go over, you are penalized. I went over. Why? I didn’t practice and time my reading. Even if you are not taking part in a competitive Death Match, you should know how long it takes to read whatever it is you are reading. That being said,
11. Don’t read more than 15 minutes. Any longer than that is a hostage situation.
12. Don’t drink more than one drink before your reading, by which I mean booze. There’s plenty of time afterward to get blasted.
13. Don’t forget that all this is supposed to be fun and joyful. Use gimmicks. Hug people. Remember the times you were writing the book and had rushes of joy from putting words and sentences together. Have a friend play guitar and sing a song that has to do with your book before you read. Wear a silly outfit. Readings and events and books are fun, remember? I’ll try if you do.
Trackbacks
- Dois links em inglês sobre como se vender « Boêmia Literária, a revolução
- Writing Roundup, May 7 « Uncategorized « Jen's Writing Journey
- 13 choses à ne pas faire pour promouvoir un livre | Lecteurs compulsifs
- Dr. Hackenbush Gets a Job » Blog Archive » Sound advice for writers
- Gimmicky and niche. « The Shortest Word.
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Excellent insights. I especially agree with your emphasis on having someone else proofread your copy. I had five well-educated individuals read my dissertation and I still cringe when I think of the errors it still had when I submitted it.
Re: #7 Don’t read from another book at readings
I’ve gotten so sick of reading from my book, the same poems over and over again, that these days I always read other shit. But yes, you’re totally right. If you’re reading from things that are not your book, just say they’re your book. But then again, nobody really buys books at the majority of readings anyways. There are certain very targeting readings where people do buy, but hardly anybody buys at Literary Death Match or Writers with Drinks or other “fun” readings (the ones I actually like to read at, where people have fun). So actually, I just read whatever I think people will like and enjoy and have fun with and get devastated by. And also, it’s very important that I always embarrass myself onstage.
But yeah you’re right, read from the book, or pretend to read from the book, that you’re trying to sell to people.
Good advice, Daniel. I would add this thing I learned on my book tour: call the store where you’re reading and ask if they’re ok with you serving alcohol. Go to Trader Joe’s and buy a box of two buck Chuck. Get the audience hammered. I’m not much of a drinker but when the audience is f*cked up they will buy pretty much anything and have a much better time.
Also, it’s pretty sweet to have live music. Ask friends who have bands/dj/whatever to play; when I did a panel at Skylight Books in LA I had my friend Jessica’s band The Old Lumps do a set beforehand and it brought in double the audience the panelists would have on our own.
And the review thing… dear God, my latest review says my book is “the stupidest thing I’ve ever read in print”. Seriously, after an assload of comments like that all you can do is laugh.
Ah, the review thing. What I write here is me at my most optimistic. I don’t include eating a box of Fig Newmans and watching Nash Bridges re-runs curled up in a ball. Booze and live music is always the way to go.
Tuned-in ideas, Daniel. Re: reviews — Jeanette Winterson once told me she never reads her reviews for reasons similar to the ones you stated above. I was interviewing her for this great feature I wrote for a national magazine. I wanted her to read it. I love her work and I wrote a loving, kickass piece. But she refused to even glance at it. She said positive reviews give you an inflated (false) sense of self-worth and the negative pummel you with (false) self-deprecating thoughts. Either way, they whipsaw your emotions and interfere with your current work. I can’t imagine being so disciplined or uncurious not to want to know what people think — positive or negative — but I’m of course still shopping my first novel. Check back with me in a few years…. Thanks for writing these.
Good advice. The only thing I’d quibble about is your final bit in #10. The idea behind doing a reading is not only to read to friends and fans, but to inform people about the book. Doing a reading in a bookstore (especially a chain bookstore) means they’ll put up a display in advance of the reading, so people walking by will notice. Also, in the hour prior to the reading, the store will generally make an announcement about the event. After the reading, if you sign a few copies, they’ll usually be displayed with the cover facing out. By doing it in a bar or a basement, you drastically reduce the number of people that will take notice of your book to those that already know about it, and they won’t have any copies to see once you’re gone.
Thanks, Joe. I see what you’re saying here for sure. That’s the scenario of the well-run indie bookstores, to my mind, and it’s totally worth the effort if that’s the way it plays out. Sometimes it doesn’t, and some towns/areas are known for not having well-run indie bookstores. Other times, said well-run bookstore might not have you come to their store for whatever reason. I suppose I am addressing some folks’ guilt, my own included, if the well-run indie bookstore doesn’t or can’t have you for an event.
Great insights, Daniel. At the book launch for my poetry collection here in Albany last week, I read a mix of things from the book and newer stuff, all printed out on separate pages so it was impossible to tell which was which. Given that many people in the room had heard a lot of the stuff in the book, I wanted them to be able to hear new work at the reading, too.
Last night I planned my set for another “book tour” (ha!) reading in Rochester, where no one has heard my work. Again, I used a mix of stuff from the book and newer material. But I really went back and forth. I planned a mixed set. Scrapped it and planned a set entirely from the book. Scrapped it and planned another mixed set, which is what I’m going with.
My advice? Don’t take my advice. I’m wingin’ it.
Jason
Good stuff here. Three books in, I’m still trying to stop myself from reading reviews, especially online reviews from readers, who can be dismissive, brutal or just too blunt for thin-skinned creative types.
I’m in the middle of a book tour myself now, and I concur…with almost all of this. Only exception: the 15 minute reading limit. I’d always heard this, so on my previous tour, I stuck to 15 or less…. but then I heard again and again from people in the crowd — most of whom, let’s be honest, were folks I had personal connections to in one way or another — that it went by too quickly. They’d driven from somewhere, fought to find parking, waited for latecomers to trickle in and then, they said, the actual fiction part went by way too fast. These days, I set my limit to 25 minutes. … In the end whatever time you pick will have to reflect how good a reader you are. Not every writer is comfortable, or dynamic, at the mic. If you are, you’ll probably want to extend a little longer — at the very least, your friends and family will want it.
KM — I see what you’re saying about my proposal for a 15-minute limit. There are circumstances where I would say it’s OK to go over. Is it a solo event with lots of friends? Sure, I’d say go over; or, better yet, time a 15-minute piece, and be ready with a 5- or 10-minute extra segment as a kind of encore. One item I didn’t mention is that I have turned around regarding having a question-and-answer period after a reading. I used to think it was cheesy, kind of like a Phil Donahue-type thing, but people like to interact with you, and it gives you a chance to talk about the book outside the constraints of the pre-reading set-up. So all that might add up to a cozy 45-minute event, who knows? I still say take it one segment at a time, and 15 minutes is the way to go, especially if you’re reading with other people. Thanks for commenting!
Yes, absolutely, if a group reading, 15 minutes per person is usually plenty! I was thinking if it’s just you promoting your own book. Then…enjoy the spotlight for a little longer.
This is great. Makes me want to read (and buy) your book.
Check’s in the mail, Rosa!
hahha a ‘hostage situation’
how many times have I groaned inwardly when I saw that the reader has writing/print-outs on multiple sides of A4 paper.
http://e6n1.blogspot.com/
Great stuff, Daniel. Bonus points for mentioning A Common Pornography. Ha!
Good advice. I especially liked that you said don’t give your book away because people will buy it.
This is true.
I sold books at my first signing even to people I knew. Go figure.
Hil-arous. Loved all of these.
#8 is crucial. One of my dearest friends and writing mentors was one of Oprah’s Book Club picks. This was the same advice she gave me when I signed my debut book contract. Critics be damned!
#10 I see your point and I love a unique reading environment, but I also agree with Joe Garden’s comment. A bookstore= books for sale. That’s the promotional goal, right? Get people buying and reading.
#11 Haaa! Hallelujah!
You’re my official rockstar of the day, Daniel. Good stuff.
This was very helpful. Thank you. I wish I was better at self-promotion. I suck.
I wish I’d read this months ago. I’ve been giving my book away whilst my family has to buy it, ha-ha. But I’ve got some ideas now on what to give away, instead of a free book.
Tip #8? Breathing a sigh of relief. I cannot bring myself to read a bad review. Why? An author takes crushing hits even before they are published, from family, friends, judges, editors, rejection letters etc…I care what readers think, but I always keep in mind a manuscript has to get the approval of editors and other experts: readers and other writers/authors in the genre/sub-genre before going one step further. The author has already taken enough hits to get their story where it needs to be on its journey. If a reader/reviewer disliked it, and wrote how it was a wallbanger…well, OK. Doesn’t mean I plan to run over and get poowned by a bad review, lol. So yes, ride that wave, and if it’s a bad review–ride it out…
Awesome! Thanks. Now I just have to find an agent. :D
Thanks for the promotion advice. I’m really trying to beef up on my knowledge of this topic. I’m currently reading Get Known Before the Book Deal, and it has some pretty helpful, though less colorful, advice as well. Thanks for sharing your experience.