Confessions of a Traveling Author
by Nancy King
Author, Nancy King. Photo by Linda Dickson.
I’m an author, Nancy King—no relation to Stephen King—but if I were, this story might be different. As it is, I travel to independent bookstores in nearby cities, each time hoping I will find a room full of people waiting to hear what I have to say about my new novel, Changing Spaces, and wanting to buy my books.
In one bookstore, a few people wander up to the display, pick up copies of my books and thumb through the pages. This is promising, I think. There aren't many people, but at least looking and thumbing are a prelude to buying. I grin broadly when a petite, well-dressed woman approaches me. “Are you the author?”
“Yes," I reply expectantly.
“I don’t read,” she announces.
Stunned, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you do?”
“I write novels,” she says, looking pleased with herself.
“What do you write about?” I ask, not really interested, but grateful that someone is talking with me.
“Well, I don’t really know.” She looks at me, as if expecting me to tell her what she writes.
I have no idea where this conversation is going but she’s staring at me with too much intensity for me to excuse myself. Besides, where would I go? I’m standing by myself, next to a pile of my books. “What interests you?”
Without missing a beat she responds, “I like to be read to. Would you read me something from your novel?”
I look around the room. I imagine a crowd of people waiting for me to begin my presentation, but the fantasy is quickly dissolved by the reality of empty chairs and feelings of discouragement. I dutifully pick up a copy of my novel, and ask my interlocutor to sit. I sit next to her and read a page and a half of my book.
When I stop, she says, “You’re a good writer. What happens at the end of the novel?”
The imp in me answers. “Well, you have to buy the book and read it to find out.”
She sighs, asks me to sign a book from one writer to another, pays and leaves.
The only other person sitting in the row of empty chairs picks up a copy of A Woman Walking, tells me he loves folk tales and asks if the tales in my novel are real or made up. When I tell him that I invented the tales in the book, he smiles. “Well, somebody must have made up the first folk tales so I guess you have a right to make up your own.” He reads a bit of the book while I watch, wishing I were besieged by throngs of people waiting for me to sign their books. At least he makes the purchase. The hour and a half that I drove to the store is not a total waste of time, gas, and hopes.
On another occasion, a friend persuades a bookstore owner to have me talk even though no one in the city knows me except my friend. On our way to the bookstore I tell myself, it’s no shame if no one comes, nor is it a reflection of the quality of my writing. But nothing I say to myself makes me feel better. We walk into the store. A few people are looking at books. No one is sitting. The owner smiles and says, “Let’s wait for a few minutes. Sometimes people straggle in.” I nod, wanting to crawl into the nearest nonexistent hole. Then, miraculously, a few people actually do sit down. They look at me expectantly. I wonder what I can say that will keep them in their seats. While the bookstore owner introduces me, I tell myself what I used to tell students in my storytelling classes: “Don’t think of storytelling as a performance; focus on sharing stories you love.”
My pep talk actually inspires me. Soon I’m talking about what’s most alive in me, about the novel, about what I’ve learned while writing it, and they’re listening, laughing, nodding their heads. Shame disappears. Tension dissolves. Joy fills my heart. They ask questions. A few books are sold. This is what happens on a good day.
At another bookstore, the three rows of empty chairs stare at me in rebuke. How dare I imagine anyone would be interested in my books or what I have to say? The display of my work goes unnoticed. I am embarrassed, preparing to leave with a heavy heart, when a woman rushes in, notices the empty chairs and says, “I don’t usually leave the house on a Tuesday night but I need to hear what you have to say about reconnecting with one’s disconnected self.” She looks at the empty chairs. I look at her and see her tired, lined, grief-filled face.
I forget about the empty chairs. “Let’s sit down.” We do not know each other, yet for the next forty minutes we talk with the depth and intimacy usually reserved for close friends. Only one person, yet I leave with a heart full of gratitude. And two books sold.
The next time I drive to a local bookstore, the thought of nobody coming is strong enough to make my stomach hurt. I steel myself for another event where I wish I were leaving, not arriving. I park the car and walk inside slowly, wanting it to be over before it begins.
I’m early and yet some people have already gathered. People I don’t know. People I do know. My spirits lift. At least some of the chairs are filled. More people come. Friends say hello, welcome me. Soon, not only are all the chairs filled, but a back row is added. The proprietor introduces me with such caring that my eyes fill with tears.
I begin to talk, my novel perched on a music stand in front of me. Suddenly, although I have not touched the stand, the book is moving down. Sliding away from me, beyond my grasp, out of sight. What do I do? I decide to keep talking but everyone’s eyes are on the moving music stand. A man from the bookstore tries to lift it back up and lock it into place. I’m amazingly calm, watching him struggle as if it were a movie. He can’t fix it. He apologizes. I nod, laugh, say I’ll just hold the book in my hands.
“How did you remain so unflappable?” one audience member asks me.
I shrug. What I don't say is that it is such an enormous relief to have a responsive audience and sell books that nothing short of an earthquake, flood or cyclone could dampen my experience of living the novelist's dream.
“If you can't come to her book signings, the author invites you to visit her website to learn more about her and her books.”
Nancy King is the author of the new book, Changing Spaces, coincidentally about a woman who wakes up one morning with her husband in the life she knew, and by the end of the day, she is alone, on her own, and in a different life
20 Comments
Reader Comments (20)
Thank you for honestly sharing with others the process of appearing at bookstore "events" as an author with an excellent book who may or may not have attendees at a particular event. There are so many reasons why author events are attended or not attended. As your former publicist, I would like to endorse the 30 people who came out to support you and your new novel at Collected Works in Santa Fe. Proof positive that bookstore events are a gamble for authors in terms of "success"--yet if your attitude as an author is realistic and open, as yours obviously is, it can be a win-win, no matter who shows up.
I laughed. I cried. I related! Writers write to communicate ideas and stories. We can't communicate unless there is someone with WHOM to communicate. Your story beautifully expressed the pain and insecurity all writers are forced to deal with. You also served up a great reminder that it isn't always a matter of talent that makes a successful writer - it also takes a hell of a lot of persistence! If you write it - and keep showing up with your guts and soul exposed - they will come...eventually. And if you only touch one person who gets your truth...really "gets it"...you have served your life's purpose. And therein lies the gratitude for the Divine gift and supreme joy of being a writer. Thank you for your story!
I greatly appreciate your comments and support. Writing is mostly a solitary act. Selling one's work is mostly public--much harder for me and for many authors. And yet, the meaningful conversations with people who attend keep me going, far outweighing the effect of no one showing up or the person who invites me and then acts annoyed when I introduce myself. All grist for the imagination.
Thanks for the feeling and insight delivered in a breezy but heartfelt manner ...I'm told. (I didn't read this article myself, my staff supplied coverage.) I look forward to your next book and will get to it right after I finish the tweet synopsis of "War and Peace."
Sweet as.
I too know the sound of one hand clapping. You've captured that lonnnnng moment beautifully.
— jules
Nancy, Thank you for this poignant, painful and practical primer for authors who imagine they will sell many books via readings and signings. As a business coach and workshop presenter on "Marketing Your Book With Love," I know that the whole model of the publishing industry has broken down. There are many factors – the sheer size of the population with time and desire to write , the ease of self-publishing and ergo the enormous number of new books available, unfiltered for quality (a cork in the ocean), and the archaic physical bookstore business with its roots in the Great Depression. What other industry allows retailers to have 180 days to return an item? (Although, these days, if a book doesn't fly off precious shelf space in 30 days, it is often returned). There seems to be little reason to do an in-person signing unless there is plenty of advance notice and perhaps even sign ups. Otherwise, an author can set her/himself up for great disappointment and a waste of time. I wish you success... you certainly have the gumption!
As the daughter of a writer who spent a large part of her career in book stores and various speaking events, I was reminded by your essay of both her courage and unwavering commitment to sharing her work. As an aspiring writer and photographer, who hasn't made the leap, I was inspired by your words. So much so that I immediately bought your book and am looking forward to this weekend's read.
Thank you for your comments. They create a conversation that is very meaningful to me. THe truth is, I have to write. When I don't write I feel as if something critical is missing in my life. Aysha is right--it's harder than ever to sell books--but Liz captures the essence of why shy people like me continue to publish. The hope of a conversation with a reader gives me the courage and commitment it takes to do what I can to find an audience for my writing. Liz, your going out and buying my book made my day. I hope you'll let me know what you thought of it. My email is: nanking1224@earthlink.net.
What you wrote about is a different kind of situation than those Stephen King writes about, but both are truly frightening. Only your humor softens the terror and makes it an enjoyable a read.
When I was younger (as we all were), I wanted to be a best-selling author, to be recognized in New York City, to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature. (I wrote a rough draft of my acceptance speech, but I lost it a few moves ago.)
As I got older (as we all do), my goals in life began changing, becoming more modest. I wanted to change one life, to give hope to the hopeless, to bring courage to the fearful, to return sparkle to the eyes of the weary . . . ever so modestly.
Nancy, may you meet one life that you changed by what you wrote, or, better yet, one life that you changed by who you are.
My Love to you,
BJ
Your courage is worn like "a heart on your sleeve." I congratulate you on taking the risk to seek being published ... and accomplishing that ... taking the risk to sell your creation. You put yourself out there is so many ways, Nancy. Oh, and did you say that you were shy?
Linda
I admire writers who try to get out there in the world to sell their books. As a poet I am familiar with presses that won't publish poetry unless the poet is willing to do all of the P.R. That is how the publishing landscape is changing. On the other hand, Nancy, the tiny dramas of conversation are what it is all about- connecting to even one person so intimately makes wonderful memories around the books you write.
It could sound like sour grapes but the truth is, despite the worry, shame, embarrassment, disappointment . . when few people come, when few books are sold, conversations with readers and bookstore owners continue to sustain me. Hearing from people who don't know me, who bought one of my books because a friend recommended it, hearing that she couldn't put it down, that he gave it to his girlfriend, that they read the book together as a way to discuss their marriage--keep me going through the dark times--in bookstores and in my life.
Readers comments on yourlifisatrip are part of what nourishes me and makes the bumps in the road more navigable.
Thank you for taking the time to write a comment.
This piece is a slice of your life, just as your books are hearty servings. With you we see the world through the eyeholes of a sensitive and caring soul, lovingly connected to her world in complex and magical ways.
You are special in that you face your challenges with fortitude, unlike many of us who might give up when faced with the prospect of a roomful of empty chairs. You know, and we know you know, that your worth is not defined by the perceptions of others. It's a little like that old saying, "When a pickpocket sees a holy man he only sees his pockets."
So well written and sensitive. Keep the faith and keep at it.
Nancy King is an author who touches the hearts of those who read her work. Her characters carry you along with them as they explore their own passions and thoughts. As a former student of Dr. King, I have carried and used her lessons for over 45 years. When I became a teacher I realized exactly what Nancy discovered in her sometimes empty rooms when she is there to sign her books. She can't always make the audience show up. She can't always make the audience listen. But sometimes her works will reach a person at a point in their lives when they most need to hear her words. That is the person for whom we make our lessons or write our books. That person and the thousand of others like her are the reason for sharing what she has learned. Nancy continues to share her insightful understanding of the human heart in her new novel, Changing Spaces. If you are the person who came to listen, I highly recommend listening to Nancy's latest book.
I am grateful to know Nancy King, and have read all of her books. It is such a delight to wait in anticipation for the next book, wondering what it will be like, and how I will relate to it. I have thoroughly enjoyed every novel! Nancy is clearly a very talented author and storyteller.
It must be difficult and awkward to wait at bookstores, hoping people will show up. I imagine it must feel as though you are exposed to the world. Yet, Nancy created a wonderful atmosphere for individuals as well as groups to share her gifts with.
June
The grace, sensitivity and poise you bring to your presentations as well as your writings enliven my senses and touch my heart. May the wonder and insight that you bring to each offering continue to feed you as well! I am among the many grateful recipients of your clarity within confusion, life within struggle, and life beyond crises. Thank you!
Your comments are a balm to my soul and energizes me. The conversation warms my heart and makes continued efforts at getting the word out about my books much more possible. Thank you all so much.
I really enjoyed reading your piece Nancy about the realities of selling books at bookstore events. I think it is an inspiration to all of us. Having read and reviewed your book "Changing Spaces" and knowing how well you write, I was feeling frustrated on your behalf that you weren't selling more books at the various events you attended! I admire your tenacity and your outlook and have confidence you will be selling a lot more copies of your book over time.