Xanax Anyone?

Book signings mean only one thing to me – Xanax.  For some reason I’ve always been freaked out by the book signing.  You’d think I’d get better at it after 40 books, but no.  I still quake with fear.

Some people shine during a signing.  I kind of cower in a corner.  With one exception.

Thanks to Murder on the Beach bookstore in Delray Beach, I get to have a little party at my house.  We serve munchies and cake and wine and other cocktails and the guests are always friends.  That’s when I feel comfortable.  And thanks to Joann Sinchuk, it’s an easy day.  She brings all the books up from her store; brings her credit card machine and sells the books.  All I do is sign and mingle.

Maybe it’s about having friends only.  Or maybe I just feel less like a failure because people actually show up.  Or maybe it’s just being in my own house.

So here’s my tip.  Make friends with your local indie bookseller.  They are far more accommodating than any chain store.  They hand sell your books and know their clientele.  You can’t buy that kind of publicity.

It’s so much better than being in a chain store when half the questions you get are ‘Where are the restrooms?’  Now that’s a humbling experience.  And sadly I often know the answer, so I often feel more like a traffic cop than an author.  Then there are the questions/comments I loathe. 

“Did you write this?”

“Yes.”

“I have a book idea, if I send it to you; will you look at it for me?”

“Um, no.  You need a publisher’s eye, not mine.”

“Oh,” (picks up book) I don’t read this kind of trash.”

Silence on my part.

“Would you recommend this book?”

“Of course.”  Do they think I’m there because I have nothing better to do on a weekend?

See, no one asks me those things at a home signing.  Maybe that’s why it isn’t a Xanax event.  I envy people who can hawk a book at a signing.  I’m not one of them.  And I don’t think that will change any time soon.