GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #699: SELLING BOOKS AT COMICONS

 A while back I saw this thing about whether or not authors should try getting a table at comics conventions. A lot of people seemed to be of the opinion that it's something that should be done with the idea that most people aren't there to buy books. Do it but don't expect much.

I tried selling books at Wizard World Chicago once upon a time, and it is my considered advice to not do it at all. Back then I loved comics conventions. Now I have fallen out of love with them. I have no interest in ever going to one again. But keep in mind, back when I tried to do this, people still went to these things because of comic books. I'm sure there are still a few who do, but they've been overshadowed by movies and TV shows so much that it's kind of galling that anyone dares call these comicons.

So yeah. Almost everyone is there to meet celebrities or go to panels on whatever's going on in the MCU or to see whatever disaster DC is putting together for the big screen. After customers have paid ungodly sums for just getting a ticket and then parking, they're not likely to buy books. They have a list of people they want to meet and how much they will pay for that. Considering the prices for these things, they won't have money to buy a book. There's a reason Artists Alley keeps dwindling year after year. It's been a while since I've been to one of these things, but I wouldn't be surprised to discover that there are only a couple of rows in AA these days.

Here is the number one thing that will happen to you if you decide to do this. I know all about it because this happened to me over and over and over again. Someone will pick up your book and flip through it, then put it down. "I thought there'd be pictures," they always say. Always. And then they'll walk away.

Let's assume that your publisher isn't going to go crazy and get a booth. I don't know of any publisher crazy enough to do that because publishers want to make money, but let's assume they're not involved. You're going to wind up paying hundreds of dollars for a table in AA. Maybe it's up to a thousand by now. I wouldn't be surprised. And then you're going to sell maybe five books. I think that's what I sold over the weekend I tried this at WWC. Certainly no more than ten.

Financially, it's not worth it. The only thing you might have to gain is word of mouth, and when most people aren't interested in buying that book, they're definitely not going to talk about it. Maybe the five people who buy the book will talk about it. Possibly. As far as I know, my five did not.

If you must go to a comicon to sell books, don't do one of the big ones like C2E2 or San Diego. Not unless you like losing massive amounts of money. Take it to a smaller show. The ones that can be contained in a high school gymnasium, for example. Or an outdoors place like DuPage County sometimes puts on. I miss Dancon. I would have sold books there in a heartbeat. If you write horror, and chances are, if you're reading this you do, I'd try shows like Days of the Dead or Flashback Weekend. I've done both shows and did well, although I recommend going with a partner and sharing the costs of the table.

But for the love of fuck, don't sell books at a comicon. It's a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster I know well.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #340: SALES WORK

 I used to believe that I was good at selling only things that I care about. That's why I try to stay away from sales jobs. There are few things I care enough about to successfully sell them.

The first time I worked in sales was at a group of local newspapers. They hired me to sell ad space. I'd done similar work in college for the campus literary magazine. How hard could it be for newspapers? It turned out to be a very different beast. In college you go for local businesses, and because they want college kids buying stuff at their stores it's a win-win to advertise with the lit mag. Selling to these people was easy. I found out very quickly that selling ad space for the magazines, in particular the ones directed at people wanting to stay in B&Bs across the country, was very difficult. People got mad at you for bothering them. I lasted two weeks at that job. But it had an advantage: my boss found out I wrote, and he offered to publish me in those newspapers. So that worked out pretty nicely.

My next sales job was at Drury Lane in Oakbrook. I sold season tickets to theater. That job went a lot better because I love plays. Added bonus: I got to see them all for free and enjoy the open bar after each one. Because I knew the plays--and liked them!--I could sell like crazy. One of the compliments I picked up was when my boss said he didn't want to hire me because men were lousy at this job. They rarely sold. I'd applied for the job, and he turned me down, but when I went back the second time he liked my tenacity and hired me. It turned out that I was the only man he ever hired who sold reliably. One week I even beat our top seller, which was damn near impossible because she was so good.

And then there's selling books. That gets me hard. Whether it's at a convention, a show or even Printers Row (which I sorely miss), I'm pretty good at selling books.

So imagine my surprise when I learned that I was good at selling auto glass. No one, and I mean NO ONE, cares about auto glass until they absolutely need it. They probably don't even give it a single thought otherwise. I've certainly never wondered about the state of, say, my windshield or even a vent glass. I'm surprised I got the job in the first place, and I thought I'd make my quotas, more or less, probably just enough to keep the job.

And then training ended. I got out on the floor. I sold like crazy. Six months after my date of hire, I was expected to make ten sales a day. Here I am in month two, and I'm routinely selling more than that. Sometimes a lot more. I've hit twenty a day a few times. My personal best, so far, is 24, and that happened today. My commission check is going to look fucking amazing. I can't wait.

And even better: this is the only job I've ever worked where the better I am at the job, the more I'm rewarded. Every other place proved that the better I was at it, the more miserable they'd make me. I remember working at places where they discontinued the annual bonus. Where they decided that if you get promoted, you don't get a raise. Things like that. And then the higher ups wonder why their employees despise them so much.

Here, after I sell a certain amount, my commissions go up another dollar . . . until the next mark, where they go up another dollar, and so on. The better I am, the more money I make. Not only that, but we don't have a vending machine at work. WE HAVE FREE SHIT. The bosses order an entire pallet of snacks and drinks every month, and they just give it to us for free. Among the drinks is the second greatest non-alcoholic beverage known to humanity (the first being Tang, naturally), Mexican Coke. They use real sugar instead of that horrid corn syrup. Sure, I have the 'Beetus, but there are some sacrifices I'm not ready to make. So yeah, not just free shit, but good shit. Happy employees work a lot better than miserable employees.

Plus I get the feeling that so long as I continue to sell above expectations, I suspect that they would be reluctant to get rid of me for any reason. I'm sure that if they found out about my books, they wouldn't care. If I turned out to be an asshole, they'd probably give consideration to determining what kind of asshole I was first. Don't get me wrong, if I raped someone they would get rid of me. But if it came out that I murdered someone, they'd probably ask why before thinking about getting rid of me.

I'm a little on edge every day, which isn't always the best feeling, but when I'm making those sales, it helps keep me hungry. I keep thinking about that commission check at the end of next month. Right now I'm looking at $1,000+, and I still have a few days to go.

If I get a second to breathe, or if I'm on an unending hold with an insurance company on a customer's behalf, I'll look at the leaderboard. I'm shocked at how well I'm doing. I think soon I'll be averaging 20 sales a day. But I look to the top of the list and wonder who the hell these people are who are making 64 sales a day, or even 45. Are they robots? Selling machines? How the hell do I get that good? Because I've gone most of my life without money. It would be very good to have a shit-ton right now before I get too old (or dead) to enjoy it.

I think they're eyeing me for a promotion already. I've been asked to serve as backup for another department. Judging from what I know about the company so far, that can only mean one thing.

Think about it this way: the more money I have, the more books I have. Not only that, but I can start affording real marketing for my own books . . . Planet Bruni, coming soon to a world near you.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #220: THE UNTHINKABLE

Today one of my coworkers at my new job told me that he was a horrible person. I joked with him, acting like I was surprised. But it turns out he nearly committed one of the most horrible sins imaginable.


He said that he'd run into money problems, so he decided to sell some of his most valued books. *gasp!* Yes, that is a horrible idea. He had a book--signed, no less--that was valued at about one grand, so that's what he tried to eBay it for. Thankfully his financial situation improved, and he no longer had to sell this prized possession. Instead he turned to trolling those who tried to undercut him. One person audaciously tried to get it for $200. He mocked them all and kept his book.


Good.


I've spent my life amassing the library I'm surrounded by in this very moment. I have three bookcases in my bedroom, all full to the brim with books on top that reach to the ceiling. I also have three piles of books on the top shelf of my desk . . . and they reach to the ceiling. To say nothing of the two and a half giant towers of books on their own (one and a half being a stack comprised of two stacks topped by one stack because it kept falling over). To say nothing of the paperbacks stacked on my comic book boxes and the one shelf mounted on my wall.


Go outside my room and you'll find another full-to-the-brim bookcase with books on top . . . reaching to the ceiling. And three stacks next to it . . . reaching to the ceiling.


I cannot possibly imagine myself selling any one of them. I have a lot of signed books. I have a lot of limited editions. (The most I ever spent on a book was $500 for a signed limited edition of Richard Laymon's A WRITER'S TALE; worth every penny, and anyone will tell you that's a pretty good deal.) And I have a ton of regular hardcovers and paperbacks. I had to sell some books recently to make room, but I sold only the ones I hadn't enjoyed. Everything that I loved (or have not read yet) is integral to my continuing existence.


Even the ones I sold kind of hurt. I'd put those books in my head. They were a part of me even though I didn't like them (or I had other, better editions that I did enjoy).


This guy was going to sell a prized possession. I find that unthinkable. I could never part with any of the books I have in my place.


I hear horror stories about people having to move and leave their books behind during a move. Or sell them in order to move. Or there's the one story about Joe R. Lansdale losing his library to a flood. Jesus! That's so horrible! Just hearing it drills a hole in my guts.


Which reminds me, I have a ton of books that are signed by the authors that I HAVEN'T read. I need to get on that as soon as possible.


Goodnight, my fellow book fiends.

ATTENTION FELLOW AUTHORS! WHO WANTS TO GO TO A FREE FESTIVAL?

One of the cool things about the Printers Row show was meeting librarians. One of them invited me to do a festival in Morris, IL. It's at the end of September. You can read all about it here.


That's pretty cool. I get to sell my books for free. They have a set up for me for free. Here's a few more details from the email followup I got from the librarian:

Last year, we had 13 authors and they all told me they sold books. Some authors sold quite a few. Since I want to keep it simple for my own planning purposes, I don't charge authors to be here and I don't pay authors to be here. We provide a table, chair and an easy up tent. We set up in our parking lot and we get a lot of people passing through from downtown to Corn Festival events in a nearby park.

To add to the excitement of the day, this year, we are combining our comic con with the book festival. So, there may also be light SABR(see what I did there) training, a cosplay contest, Dr. Who trivia, etc. going on at the same time.

Last year, some of the authors said it was a really good book festival, especially for the first one. Authors seemed to make some connections with other authors, especially the ones with whom they shared a table. I love attending author festivals, so I was pretty excited to host my own. I had many people come up to me and tell me to have another one, so we are.


So . . .  local authors, or anyone who might be passing through the area, are any of you interested in doing this show with me? Let me know in the comments, respond on Facebook or Twitter or if you have my phone number, text or call.