Wednesday, September 2, 2015

how to sell a book before it is published

My book isn't out until January, but generous friends hosted a party for it this weekend after I mentioned to them a few months ago (trying to sound casual) how important pre-orders are for authors, especially unfamous novelists publishing a debut. It was a great party, with lots of good friends/neighbors/ supporters in attendance. We called it a Preview Party, not a Pre-Order party, but people got the idea. Today, I checked my Amazon numbers --yes, I'm months away from publication, but already checking my rankings--and my “best sellers rank" improved by about half a million--whatever that means, surely NOT that I sold half a million books.

A book party is like a wedding in that, while on the whole it's fantastic, one of the best events in your life, there's a few things you'd hope to remember, should you ever do it again. Like--

1. If more than two dozen people will be there, GET A MIKE. Most writers aren't great talkers (that's why they're writers) and unless you've got the big, booming voice of a trial lawyer or James Earl Jones, give a break to the people who've gone to the trouble to come out and support you--make it easy for them to hear you. Especially if your audience includes boomers who spent their formative years lying on shag carpeting listening to Procol Harum at max volume on lo-fidelity earmuffs. Also--think of the mike thing before the day of your reading or you might not be as lucky as I was when I frantically contacted my host's caterer, who was able to provide a last minute hookup. (Don't be insulted when the sound guy shows up and seems disappointed that his fancy setup will be used only for reading, and asks hopefully if he ought to tweak a few settings because maybe someone in the audience will want to play something?)

2. If your book isn't out yet, MAKE CHAPBOOKS AS PARTY FAVORS. These look like the galleys, but contain only about the first fifty pages or so... just enough to give people a taste of your book and hopefully give them an appetite for the whole enchilada and seeing it lying on their kitchen counter will remind them to put in a pre-order. I am exceedingly grateful to my editor for making these for me, but if yours can't, you can do it yourself at a Kinko's.

3. APPOINT A PHOTOGRAPHER. It doesn't have to be the professional photographer friend you've already imposed upon for your author photo. It can be any friend with an iPhone and a good eye who isn't too shy to ask people to pose holding your chapbook. (See above.) I really, really wish I had done this, because images are valuable content for social streams.

4. ASK PEOPLE TO POST One of my guests had the social savvy to hashtag the event and post a photo on Instagram, but I wish I had thought to ask others to do so. Social buzz can help start up interest in books.

5. WEAR SOMETHING COMFORTABLE. I'm grateful to my husband for this. There I was at the mirror, trying to decide between shoes--Toms or heels--and he said I should go with whichever pair would be better to stand in for hours, trying to remember people's names. There aren't nametags for book readings. I guess because the only name that you want on people's minds is yours.

6. READ FROM A SCREEN, NOT FROM A PAGE. Especially if you're an older (ahem) writer who needs reading glasses. You can adjust type size on screen, so you won't have to perch readers at the end of your nose. (I've gotten progressives which eliminates this problem, but it's weeks before you can wear them without feeling like you're falling downstairs, so don't make the mistake of making the switch the same month as a reading.) Also, the light emitted from Ipad or Kindle or whatever you're using will save you from having to worry about finding a reading light.

7. BRING BUSINESS CARDS If your publisher has been good enough to provide you with chapbooks, your contact information probably isn't in them. I've used MOO to make cards with my book cover on one side, which reminds people later who the heck you are. The best part about book events is the connections that you make with new readers, other authors, booksellers and even (in my lucky case) someone who asks for an ARC because they want to review it. Business cards stuck in a wallet can remind people of idle offers they made once at a party.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

talking mad men (and women)

exhibit includes sets: Draper kitchen in Ossining
If you'd told me when I was a junior copywriter that one night I’d be standing in a corridor shooting the breeze with Ken Roman, CEO of Ogilvy, and Herb Schlosser, president of NBC and Adweek critic, Barbara Lippert, not to mention two of the most legendary writers in the business, Helayne Spivack and Tom Messner—well, I’d have thought you’d have tossed back too many Harvey Wallbangers at lunch.

But, thanks to the Museum of the Moving Image, there I was, doing just that tonight. (I heart New York.) In conjunction with their excellent exhibit of Mad Men memorabilia, which includes scripts and brainstorming notes and actual sets from the show, the museum hosted a confab of execs from the Mad Men era reminiscing about the old days, some of which I (ahem) remembered.
and family pics from Matthew Weiner, portrait circa 1975

Barbara Lippert, whose Adweek column was my Monday morning go-to for years, moderated and kicked off by reminding us there was a time when people loved advertising instead of counting the seconds you could swipe it off screen. Ken Roman (author of best David Ogilvy bio) reminded us that Mad Men was a term coined by Matt Weiner—no one on Mad Ave actually used it. Helayne Spivack (claiming to be speaking for all women in advertising—she was only half kidding) talked of her Peggy Olson-ish trajectory of starting as a receptionist at Nadler & Larimer, working up copy between answering phones. Tom Messner (her Don Draper for ten years at Ally & Gargano) treated us to screening of landmark spot he did for MCI when “you only called long distance if somebody died.” And Herb Schlosser, who we have to thank for SNL and Laugh-In (remember?) and Columbo and The Tonight Show remembered Hubert Humphrey refusing to say “Sock it to me” on network television, though Nixon had done it the week before (it took six takes for him not to sound angry) thereby swaying popular vote to help get the Dick elected.

AMC’s Mad Men sails into the sunset this Sunday, but you can catch the outtasite exhibition of costumes, props, videos and research behind it until June 14. How will it end? Predictions embedded in Barbara's marvelous Mad Men Cliff Notes

Friday, May 1, 2015

where were you in 82?

And 83, 84 and the rest of the post-Mad Men decade when hard drinking executives graduated to hard drugs and ad agencies were being eaten by holding companies? If you were anywhere in the vicinity of Ogilvy, come commiserate with other survivors of the era at O&M's 80s Reunion in New York on Wednesay, May 14. Tickets still available. (Admission discounted if you've gotten sober!)

Thursday, November 13, 2014

ad space too expensive? publish your own mag

And speaking of clients getting into the publishing business, here's a new call for a serious Editor in Chief of upcoming online mag about Sleep, to be put out by (duh) a mattress company. Kudos to awake marketing mind behind this.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

author lands book deal with Y&R

Can't get a deal for that novel manuscript? Try ad agencies. Young & Rubicam commissioned Booker award-nominated novelist William Boyd to tell any story he wanted as long as it featured a Land Rover vehicle. Not surprisingly, the commission prompted Boyd to "realize how prominently Land Rover has featured in my life" and write THE VANISHING GAME, a novella published by Land Rover in print and e-version and advertised in display ads and paid posts on Vox, Quartz and The story can also be accessed on Tumblr where it's a multi-sensory experience including images, video, animation, sound, music and narration.

The novel-commissioned-by-client isn't unprecedented. In 2001, Bulgari hired novelist Fay Weldon to write any story she wanted, as long as it mentioned the name of the jeweler 12 times. Perhaps because she was a former copywriter (Ogilvy), Weldon exceeded that count, including 34 mentions. That product placement deal, a first in publishing, created quite a kerfuffle, as reported in in the New York Times and Salon. It's not known whether the commission helped Bulgari sell jewelry, but to Weldon's credit, the book still isn't out of print.

Thanks to Shareen Pathak of Digiday for letting us know

Monday, November 10, 2014

going to China? Don't leave home without this

I'm traveling in Taiwan for a couple of weeks and would be lost in translation without an app created by the good folks at Pleco. It lets me hold up the phone to Chinese characters on signs, on menus, on doors and suddenly what is inscrutable becomes clear. The app is multifunctioned and also features a handy live dictionary. Type in what you're trying to say and it appears in Chinese, so you can simply hold up your phone and be understood. I found this essential to renting a car which was accomplished only because the clerk and I could communicate by handing our iPhones to each other. Pleco downloadable from App store. Nope, this isn't a paid post. Just a hat tip from a grateful user in transit.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

45 years ago today

© Rudolph J Klein
July 20, 1969. Nixon is new to the White House. Ted Kennedy has just driven off a bridge. John and Yoko have shocked the world (at least my small, suburban part of it) by going to bed publicly and staying there for two weeks.

Here we are on a picnic with neighbors at Valley Forge Park. My mother's in the plaid Bermuda shorts. She'd ironed the heavy cotton floral tablecloth put down on the table. That's me on the left, trying to sneak away with an extra Ho-Ho. I'm wearing my favorite flower-power pin.

That night, I wear it to a CYO dance held in the gym of our parish hall, in a dress my mother made, trying to look like I know how to twist. At some point in the evening, the record abruptly stops spinning, lights go on and we are called to come to the school kitchenette where one of the chaperones has set up a portable television. It is a 5 inch screen, black and white of course, with an antenna you have to keep moving to keep picture. The picture is grainy and the sound is crackly and the most audible narration comes from a pocket transistor radio tuned to the same station. A man, at that moment, is walking on the moon. We live in a new world order in which what was impossible for our parents to imagine, happens to us as a matter of course: presidents get shot, women burn their bras, wars are waged in a jungle by children. Now, this: a man from earth stepping onto the moon. 

Grown-ups hunker close to the miniature screen, squinting their disbelieving eyes while we kids shift back and forth in our weejuns, waiting for the music to start up again.