January 13th, 2010
Melbourne Writers Festival
I’ve been told that there is not a lot that I can personally do to sell my book. Yes, there will be a launches, some magazine interviews and maybe radio and other things to do, but basically the story will, or will not, sell itself.
As a debut author I’m not that interesting, and I’m glad this is so. If this was my tenth book, maybe, if I was a celebrity, definitely, if my book were non-fiction, possibly. You see, you will get hours of entertainment from my book, but not from me. I’d start to yawn, or wander off, or pick up a magazine or want to talk all about the mysteries of poultry keeping. And my private life is about as interesting as anybody else’s – which means not very, except to friends and family.
At lunch the other day a friend asked me, ‘Why are writers so boring when you meet them?’ I choked and spluttered on my glass of wine and then laughed. Does Bruce Willis go around punching people? Is Jerry Seinfeld a barrel of laughs all the time? No to both questions - so why should we writers be as interesting as our books?
What does make a person interesting? For me, usually it’s not what they’ve done but how they frame it themselves, the connections they make, the choices they’ve made and the obstacles they’ve overcome. But not everybody is forthcoming with these introspections, and many don’t have the language or the temperament for such analysis anyway. And I have no right to their inner life. If they choose to share, that’s different. But you can’t access a writer’s inner life at a cocktail party, writers festival or indeed, ever. And why should they let you anyway?
I have always disliked writer’s festivals because I don’t want to see the writers, I don’t want to hear them read from their book – I can do that myself. What does interest me is the creative journeys they were on – how and why they wrote what they did. That can be fascinating. But it’s rarely spoken of. I find artist’s notebooks more interesting than the finished piece sometimes, and I know actors have to criss cross the world promoting their films – but occasionally I’d like to hear the film designer, or the costumes mistress and hear about how they solved the creative problems they came across. I’d love to have access to manuscript edits on my favourite books to see where things were changed and why – far more interesting than the personage of the writer.
The thing is though, is that in this world our lives are increasingly public, particularly because of the Internet. Information about the individual is easier to get. Unless the aim of this is nefarious, I can’t really see the point. But I know there are certain obligations that come with putting a piece of work in the public space; one has to accept that and then draw the line.
So if someone enjoys my book and wants to know how it came about, I’m happy to talk, but only about that. Me personally? Boring and off limits. Me socially? Good for a laugh, a few drinks, then I’m off. My book? Funny, full of suspense, great characters and good value at twice the price.
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January 10th, 2010
Hanging Dresses image via Pony and Pink blogspot
Teacup and Rose image by Annalisa Feleppa
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October 21st, 2009
Years ago, during a debate in the NSW parliament about the legalisation of abortion, many male politicians walked around pronouncing, in sanctimonious tones, that THEY would never have an abortion.
Some of the current generation of politicians denounce the asylum seekers arriving in Australia as economic refugees and not really escaping from harsh or deadly situations. These politicians declare that these people should stand in the bloody queue with all the other mongrels and riff raff wanting a piece of the Lucky Country, that they should put up with the ‘unlawful killing,’ poverty and intimidation – and by crikey, if they were a refugee they’d stand in the queue and be grateful for the opportunity.
As a writer with a two-book contract with a major publishing house may I say I would never consider self-publishing. Well, I would say that, wouldn’t I? ‘Cause I’m here … and the unpublished are over there. Just as the above politicians say what they damn well please. But the truth is I could join the ranks of the unpublished in the bat of a publisher’s eyelash. If my books tank I’m back in the alley picking through garbage bins along with the rest of the gang. But just for now, just during this most surreal-moment-that-may-end-tomorrow, I say again - I would never self publish.
I’m swimming against the tide here, I know. Every day I read blogs and twitters and promotions and debates and spats on the future of publishing in the brave new world of electronic downloads, kindles, iBooks and POD and every other electronic conveyance. I read that the content provider is going to be screwed and the format providers – Google, Amazon, Apple and so on are going to rule the new world.
As a humble little content provider I should accept my royalties will be slashed to 5% and there will be no advances and for that measly 5% I’ll have to work myself into a lather self promoting and twittering around the clock. And if I self published I’d have to put up the money to make the physical book, distribute, market and compete with all the other self published.
As I said before, I wouldn’t do it.
And I wouldn’t do it because I know what it’s like to spend years making artworks, to spend dollars exhibiting, promoting, packaging, posting, promoting, scrabbling for reviewers, entering competitions, dragging yourself around the openings, self promoting, promoting, packaging posting and breaking even and eventually some years later giving away the stuff that didn’t sell. Those years are an innoculation against self-publishing.
So I say no, no and no. It is, as we say in Terra Australis, a mug’s game. I’d rather keep my dignity and go and do something else.
I’ll work hard for my publishers, because they are working hard for me. But should I be without a backer I’ll disappear back into glorious ‘read only’ format.
‘You can’t eat an orange and then throw the peel away - a man is not a piece of fruit’
Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman
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October 15th, 2009
My Guest Blogger today is Robb Grindstaff, Robb is managing editor of an international English-language newspaper, writes and edits fiction, and still see a difference between journalism and fiction despite growing evidence to the contrary.
“So, what’s your book about?”
If you’re a writer, you’ve probably heard that question countless times. Friends, family members, co-workers discover you’re writing a book. Perhaps you proudly announced that you were pursuing your dream. Or maybe you’ve been toiling away in secret, like a vice you carefully hide from the public, hoping you can complete a novel, land an agent and a publishing contract before anyone finds out what you’re up to.
Or maybe you’re an established writer, you’re attending a conference, and you meet an agent or editor who asks you the fateful question.
“So, what’s your book about?”
“It’s about 400 pages.”
No, that’s not enough information.
“It’s about this girl, you see, and her father is in the military and her mother is Japanese, and she gets in a car accident, and her brother dies, and then she finds out her injuries might mean she won’t live long enough to see adulthood, so she decides to live life as fast as possible in order to experience everything she can before she dies, and mainly she wants to fall in love, but she also wants to go to college and see the world, and so she goes to Japan to meet her mother’s family, and she lives in Italy for a while, and then she does fall in love but…”
And the questioner slips into a coma without ever really learning what your book is about.
The first question to ask yourself: Do you know what your book is really about?
Before you begin writing, do you start with a hook that is the crux of the story, summarize the main character, what she wants, the obstacles in her way, how the conflict is resolved, and the higher-level thematic issues which affect the outcome and the character’s arc, and then begin to write your story?
No? Neither do I.
Like many writers, I start with a seed – some idea of a plot or an interesting (to me, at least) conflict. Maybe a “what if this happened” scenario. Sometimes just a sentence or phrase comes to mind that piques my writerly interest. More often I start with a character who introduces herself to me. I have to sit down at the computer and start typing while I get to know her, and eventually she’ll tell me her story. I can be 20,000 words into a manuscript before I know where the story is going. I may not know how it ends until I’m writing the ending. Other times, I have the whole story sketched out in a rough outline, but it’s likely to change before I reach the end.
“So, what’s your book about?”
“I don’t know yet, I haven’t finished it.”
But eventually I finish it – usually. And then I have to figure out what it’s about so I can answer the question from too many pesky friends and too few pesky agents.
If you’ve found yourself in this situation, here’s an exercise that has worked for me.
Go through the manuscript and summarize each chapter or scene in one brief paragraph of two or three sentences. If you can summarize it in one sentence, even better. Ask the question: What is this chapter about? What is the main thing that happens in this scene?
Write it in third person, present tense. It doesn’t matter what person or tense you used in the novel. Third person, present tense.
If your book is around 400 pages, maybe 50 chapters or so, then you’ve just written a 50-paragraph chapter outline, the basics for a synopsis. Perhaps this takes up six to eight pages, double spaced. Be sure to include the ending, how the story resolves. Go ahead and give away your surprise ending in this document.
Take those 50 paragraphs and rewrite it into narrative format so that it reads like a story, although obviously with a lot of details left out. Look back through this narrative and see what’s important, what’s not, and what key points are missing or were skimmed over too quickly. Delete sentences or paragraphs about chapters/scenes that aren’t critical to the overall summary. If a single paragraph dealt too lightly with an important scene, flesh out that paragraph more. Take two or three paragraphs if you need. Work the transitions between scenes so it flows and reads smoothly. You’ll wind up with a document somewhere in the range of 10-15 pages.
Once that’s done, you now have a workable draft of a synopsis. Some agents and editors will ask for a synopsis, so you want to go through this again and rewrite, revise, and edit to make sure it reads as an interesting summary of the story. Write it in the same voice and style as your book. An agent will gauge your writing skills by this synopsis. But keep it in third-person present tense.
Some agents and editors will ask for a short synopsis. They don’t want to read fifteen pages to get the summary of the story – time is short, they’re busy, and they’ve got another 27 queries in their inbox to look at today. Go through your 15-page synopsis and edit it down to the key points only. Don’t include minor characters at all, or minor plot points. Boil it down and tighten it up. It should cover these basic points: Who is your main character? What does she want? What is the main obstacle preventing her from getting it? Who are the two or three main secondary characters and what is their relationship to the protagonist? How does she meet the challenges, overcome the obstacles, and achieve her goals? Or how does she fail to achieve her goals? How is she changed at the end of the story? Now rewrite this and edit it more. Tighten it up to two pages. Now you have a short synopsis, which will come in very handy while querying agents.
Take your two-page synopsis and – you guessed it – tighten it up. Eliminate details, focus on the big picture questions that tell the overall theme of the story. What does she want, what’s the obstacle, how does she overcome, and what has she learned? Edit it down to a paragraph or two. There’s your blurb. Think of it appearing on the back cover of your book, or on that quarter-page ad in the New York Times. This paragraph also comes in quite handy for wooing an agent – it may well be the opening paragraph of your query letter. An example (not saying it’s a great example, but it’s an example):
When a teenage military brat learns her injuries from an accident will prove fatal before she reaches adulthood, she accelerates to a manic pace to reach her life goals. Eventually she learns happiness isn’t found in achievements or lovers, but in family, friends, and faith.
Just when you think you can’t edit it down any further, write that paragraph as one sentence. Two short sentences at most.
Memorize that sentence. Repeat it over and over in front of a mirror or in the shower.
The next time your Aunt Tilde or Fred at the office or a high-powered agent in an elevator at a writers conference asks you the dreaded question, you won’t dread it. You’re prepared. Your one or two sentence pitch succinctly tells what your book is about in a hopefully interesting way, and you can get it out before the elevator door opens and the agent escapes.
A biracial military brat grows up fast, afraid she will die before she reaches adulthood or finds true love.
So, what’s your book about?
Both images are taken from the film Secret Window with Johnny Depp
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September 25th, 2009
The title of my book being published next year, The Book of Love, refers to a French book of lithographs detailing the erotica excavated at Pompeii in the eighteenth century. The book is called the Musée royal de Naples; peintures, bronzes et statues érotiques du cabinet secret, avec leur explication
What is extraordinary about the images, to our modern eyes, is the sheer quantity and usage of phalluses. Phallic wind chimes, phallic lamps, phallic charms, birds with phalluses, fauns with phalluses, you name it, there’s a sodding phallus on it. It’s a lovely appendage but is there, or was there, nothing else to decorate wind chimes with?
Yes, it was a male dominated military society and the phallus is good shorthand for male potency. But it was also more than that, the phallus symbolised generative powers and was believed to bring good luck and a fertile garden if you did go for the wind chimes and hang them over your carrot seedlings. Romans celebrated sexuality, and were quite open about it. But don’t romanticise them, it wasn’t a ‘free love,’ Woodstock-in-a-toga set up.
It’s no surprise that the phallus was such a common symbol in everyday Roman life if you consider the following. There were strict rules about who could do what to whom. At the top of the pile were the freeborn Roman men – they were the ‘penetrators’ and could not, by law, be penetrated. Males of this rank could initiate sex with whomever they pleased, except wellborn free boys. Males and females of lower status had to accept the passive, ‘penetrated’ role. For high ranking men to be on the receiving end was a mark of shame.
And if we think in terms of symbolising power we probably have more in common with the ancient Romans than we realise. We have a far more sophisticated visual culture, but it’s still there in our language. Money is our symbol of dominance, not the phallus, yet the symbolic power of the dynamics of penetration, as an active act for real men, has travelled down over a couple of thousand years in language and phrases. ‘I was screwed,’ (cheated), ‘he f**ked me over, (took control), ‘take it up the arse’, (be dominated), and so on. This is the language of power – and you can bet that those at the top of our political and financial food chains are busy metaphorically doing what those ancient Romans did to establish a pecking order.
If you grew up in Ancient Rome and saw, everyday, male dominance and the sexual symbolism of that dominance being in evidence in all levels of material culture – and were dropped into our culture you’d be forgiven for thinking pretty, curvaceous women symbolise a feminine dominance.
So, is she in charge, asks our sandal clad time traveller? Is that why breasts are everywhere? Yes of course, it must be - this culture values the feminine, the nurturing, and the breast as symbol of life giving. We know better though, don’t we? Ms Breasts is not up on that billboard because we celebrate and value the feminine. She’s up there because someone decided her breasts could sell a soft drink or a computer game. Her fleeting moment of power is only bestowed on her, and then only in the service of financial capital.
Plutarch declared that a good wife should lie still during intercourse. Another Ancient Roman echo in these pictures?
Plus ca change
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September 22nd, 2009
Teacher's Pet
I recently read a comment on a blog by someone who, although a published writer, felt that to blog about themselves and their writing would demonstrate an excess of self absorption, (and thus be uninteresting to others), and that being published did not qualify one for commentary on writing.
I stopped and re read the comment and have been pondering on it all day – because it raised an interesting point. A point I thought worth considering at length because it is the commonly held wisdom these days that as a writer one should go forth and blog.
When I asked the marketing people at Hachette Australia what I should blog about, they suggested I blog about writing, not about my personal life, but as an author presenting a public profile to the world. I thought to myself – ‘what the hell do I know about writing? - It was a bit like explaining how you breathe, once you start you your throat closes up and you start gasping for air.
So what could I offer the visitor to my blog who was interested in writing?
I remembered taking a drawing class and being asked by a student what it was like to work as an artist. What could I tell her? There as many different answers to that as there are artists. I just told her how it was for me, and some of the lessons I’d learned along the way. We were having a good old natter when I realised students were stopping their work and coming to listen to our conversation.
That’s what they wanted to know – yes, they needed skills, occupational health knowledge, financial knowledge, mentors, networking skills and all that, and some attempts were made within the curriculum to address this, but formal education does have limits. These people had a hunger to hear the personal musings on the ups and downs and obstacles they might face on the same journey as myself.
So for my blog I decided I’d ramble about my creative experience of writing and making art. Not as an expert, not as someone who can give a ‘how to’ lesson, but just what happened to me, and how I make sense of it.
I think it’s worth something to those moving in the same direction on the writing road. I share my experiences and thoughts on the whole writing/publishing experience because I’m articulate and people are curious about other’s experiences. If they’re not interested in mine, they can go elsewhere. There’s how many billion blogs out there?
Learning from the experience of others is the fundamental way of learning - children watch adults, apprentices watch tradespeople, acting students watch actors, painting students watch and follow painters.
Now having someone watch you does not mean you are an expert or an authority, the watcher makes their own meaning out of what they see. We’ve all seen our parents’ stuff up. I know my kids have seen me make poor calls. Apprentices see tradies taking short cuts, actors might think, ‘I would play Lady Macbeth differently.’ And so on. It is a primal human experience – watch and learn, or in a blog’s case, read and learn, filter it through what you know, use your critical skills to determine what you can take with you when you shut down your computer.
The wonderful thing about blogs and blogging is the lack of hierarchical structure, where no one is set up as an expert and no one needs qualifications – because the reader decides for themselves which blog qualifies for their continuing interest.
via Talking Biz News
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September 12th, 2009
image via bookride.com
Coming up with a book title is sometimes as hard as cutting firewood with your tongue. In fact, deciding on a title for a painting or sculpture is a jolly skip in the park compared to the book title.
With an artwork title you can come at it from any angle – descriptive, complementary, undermining, explaining or just plain keep-the-punters-guessing ‘Untitled’, (my personal favourite). The best titles, of course, have a conceptual connection to the work, however obscure. It doesn’t matter if the viewer doesn’t get it, because it’s not about them, is it? It’s about the artist and the need to remain true to the rigorous imperatives that drive them. And the viewer can just shove off and buy the catalogue if they really want to know, and even then the obfuscation level will be so high nobody knows what the hell it’s all about so lets go have a coffee.
But a title for a work of fiction? Now there’s a challenge. Whatever you come up with, if you publish commercially, the publishers have the last say. The marketing department will have a list of words that they swear will stimulate the prospective buyer to a must-have-where’s-my-credit-card frenzy. Aren’t they clever? The imperative here is money. And nobody leaves the bookshop for a coffee until they have bought something.
But I want my title to mean something. I want it to speak to the book and it themes and I want it to be neat, taut and go beyond buzz wordiness, and I’m not talking about meaning in a deep philosophical sense. My book being published next year is titled The Book of Love. Now I wasn’t a hundred per cent on that title when I was offered a contract, but I knew it wouldn’t be down to me alone. And both my publisher and myself had a problem with the word ‘love.’ Beautiful experience, but on a book cover the word shrieks of sappy sentimentalism. However the book in question is a book of reproductions of the erotica of Pompeii and the search for this book brings the protagonists together. So it’s a good fit, despite the general squeamishness around ‘love.’
I imagine marketing also have a list of reader turn-off words depending on the targeted reading demographic. And I suspect the longer the title the less likely you are to hold that roaming consumer eye. There have been overly cute, forced titles built around potato peelings and Ukrainian tractors and other dissonant imagery. And brilliant short titles of such aptness you can only pause and admire the mind that came up with them - titles such as American Tabloid, Cloudstreet, A Fringe of Leaves and dozens of others. And please feel free to fling them at this blog.
Meanwhile I scour my thesaurus, make lists of words, harass people with possible title ideas and lie in bed at three am gnawing on this title problem.
I love the ones that slip into my mind so smoothly I barely notice the entry point. But they can’t all be like that, blood must be shed and sleep must be lost until the right words are extracted and finally secured with heavy nails, and accompanying satisfied grunts, to the book cover.
image via d.sharp journal blog
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September 2nd, 2009
The battle over parallel importation of books continues here in Australia. A group of chain booksellers and supermarkets are lobbying to have the restrictions lifted. For an explanation of the issues go to this site… http://www.asauthors.org/
Being a long time dweller in the arts industry I’ve seen the steel-capped boots kick the arts time again for political purposes. And this time the appeal to the lowest common denominators in Australian society – resentment of success, contempt for elitism and a ruggedly ignorant dismissal of anything intellectual – is as cynical as usual.
Protests against the move have led to the supermarket/retail people dismissing us as ‘noisy authors’ and ‘literary narcissists posing as cultural commissars.’ They sneer at the ‘unholy alliance’ of writers, publishers and trade unionists. By crikey, now there’s a tag calculated to strike fear into the heart of the ordinary Aussie - trade unions. Those pinko commies united with elitist left wing wankers? No way.
And ‘noisy authors’? Should we meekly lie down and let you have your evil way with us? No, we shouldn’t. Friends say don’t work yourself into a lather about it – of course the legislation will be passed, of course the authors will be thrown on the burning heap, of course a healthy arts industry will be decimated - that’s the way it’s always been. But I can’t. I’ve been in a frenzy of letter writing, careful to write as a ‘concerned citizen’ not as an author. I’ve done this because although I am having a book published, my concerns go beyond the personal to the cultural landscape of this country.
I’ve written to everyone I could think of, now all I can do is cross all my digits, sacrifice a chook and visualise a positive outcome. That’s until I read this in a national broadsheet, The Australian … ‘The coalition also says there is no evidence that local publishers are using their higher profits to foster local talent.’
Never let the facts stand in the way of an ideological position, eh, guys?
Time for another letter. This time as an author who has benefited enormously from the interest an Australian publisher has shown in fostering local talent.
Of course The Australian did not publish the letter, so I publish it here
Dear Editor
In the item ‘Cabinet split on cheaper books,’ Saturday, 29 August, it is stated, ‘The coalition says there is no evidence that local publishers are using their higher profits to foster local talent.’
I read this and experienced a brief ontological wobble. I am an Australian writer and I was offered a two-book contract earlier this year by Hachette Australia. This happened as a direct result of Hachette Australia investing staff, time and money in developing the manuscripts of Australian authors.
This fostering of local talent has been occurring for the last three years through a joint initiative between Hachette Australia and the Queensland Writers Centre. Last year, two five-day retreats were offered to between eight and ten Australian fiction writers who successfully applied for inclusion in the program. We met with publishers from Hachette who gave invaluable advice on improving our work; we were introduced to agents, authors and book retail professionals as well as to each other. We attended seminars, workshops and were given a thorough grounding in how the Australian publishing industry works. As a new writer, and a regional one at that, it was a fantastic opportunity.
Although I was the only one to receive a contract, (only after further development of my manuscript), all the participants at my retreat benefited enormously from the time and effort invested in us, and will continue to do so throughout our careers.
I believe HarperCollins have a similar program run with Varuna, a writer’s centre in NSW, as does New Holland Press with the New South Wales Writers Centre, and I’m sure there are examples of other initiatives I am unaware of.
The coalition should get their facts correct before making statements regarding the activities of Australian publishers. Hard as it may be for them to understand, Australian publishers want to publish Australian authors, not simply republish the books of foreign authors. They do invest part of their profits in fostering local talent, and they do it so Australians can read Australian stories.
Phillipa Fioretti
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August 22nd, 2009
Pity the poor sod who has a job which requires them to wear a name tag. I have worked front-of-house in theatre and had to wear a name badge. But mine kept getting lost, or I left it at home, or it fell accidentally into the bin. Then I could be anonymous rather than having to suffer the impudence, insolence and complete lack of grace so many people show to the ‘named.’
I’d much rather be identified by my surname than my given name. That puts a distance between ‘them,’ and me - which, when dealing with the public is sometimes ones only refuge from the demands and presumptions of the odd rogue customer. Of which, among theatregoers there are very few, I must confess. But the number of males who made flippant or personal comments eventually convinced management to ditch the badges.
That’s my personal experience of wearing them. Now, sometimes I find myself reading a shop assistant’s name badge and musing on the origins of their name. Trivia flits through my mind as I wait – but I would never presume an intimacy with them simply because I know their given name.
Names used to be more than a fashion accessory. They signified family ties more than anything and the immersion of the individual into the greater whole of the clan. Now we strive for individuality in the names we give our children. These children will grow up in a culture so casual we have to be told what to wear when entering a bar. Like, put a shirt on. And, in the case of one memorable sighting in a supermarket in tropical Darwin, a shirt and shorts. Food shopping in just your jocks is taking casual attire a bit far. This guy probably also felt compelled to read aloud the cashier’s name and make some incredibly witty and suggestive comment.
To give the ‘named’ an equal chance to discover who they are serving, follow this link, download and print your nametag for November 14…….
http://www.lucidity.ltd.uk/farty/concepts/variety.htm
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August 20th, 2009
People have asked me if I was going to do the cover for my forthcoming book, a question they ask because of my background in visual arts. Naturally my answer is no, and then the response is usually ‘isn’t that unfair given it’s your book?’
But actually it’s not my book. And it wouldn’t be a book if the publishers didn’t put their money and people behind it. It’s my manuscript, but it’s our book, a collaborative effort. The amount of person-hours going into shaping the manuscript and bringing it to publication is phenomenal. Then they advertise it and put bundles of them in trucks and drive them all over the continent and then sit back and hope they’ve picked a winner. So, yeah, they can have the cover
I have seen the cover and I’m happy with it, and I’ve seen most of the numerous ideas the designer came up with. The publishers asked what I didn’t want, and if I had burst into tears and flung their choice across the room I’m sure they would have changed it – but no way would they let me near the responsibility for designing it. (And I probably wouldn’t get another contract)
What would I come up with if I were allowed to do the cover, I wonder? My interpretation of the themes of the book, and the images that I use could be so off-putting and downright upsetting to many people. Or they might not work in the hundred different ways that a book cover has to work. And then there is a big gap between contemporary visual art practice and book cover design. The former sometimes takes a perverse pride in not selling and producing discomfort in the viewer. And we don’t want that in the bookshop - plenty of other places to go for a dose of outrage.
Book covers perplex me. Shopping for them is a very different experience to my usual shopping trips. I wander down supermarket aisles and buy by colour and format. I buy the same things usually and my brain goes for a picnic while I just reach, grab, toss, reach, grab, toss and thence to cash register. If you asked me what brands I bought I’d be hard pressed to tell you. Sometimes they change the packaging and I have to snap out of my reverie and make a decision or root around and find my normal brand of tuna. I resent that; I don’t want to think when I shop. And too many times have I not paid enough attention and arrive home with something different to what I intended.
I felt that creeping perplexity the other day in an airport bookshop. Hundreds and hundreds of covers were competing for my attention. How could I choose? I wanted to buy something so I walked up and down the aisles and sometimes I’d stop and pick up a book – not for the title but because something in the image resonated with me. Some covers shrieked at me ‘you would hate me,’ and others, particularly in the crime section said ‘if you want a ballsy read, pal, choose me, otherwise f**k off.’
Around and around I went. I felt, as my hand reached out for a book, that a character like Christof from The Truman Show was in Marketing HQ saying, ‘she’s made a decision, quiet everybody…she’s picking up the … yes, she’s picking up the purple embossed one, quick look inside her neo cortex and find which lights are flashing.’
Those marketing people would love to know how an impulse buy is made. But I can’t help them. So visually battered was I that I felt like I was in a scrum of colourful beggars all with their hands held out, whining beseechingly, ‘have pity on me, lady, I’m near the end of my six week shelf life, I’ll go into the backlists and then remainders, for god’s sake, BUY ME!’
I fell with relief on the Penguin re releases and found an old friend decked out in the modest and sober orange, black and white. I’d read this book many years ago, when it too wore a flamboyant look-at-me cover, and that day in the airport it appeared to be just the thing – there was security of satisfaction. It’s well written, a good story, a classic haven’t read for a decade. All the others – titivated up in their embossed card and luxury flaps exhausted me. I couldn’t commit, I wasn’t going to risk surrender to such a delicious seduction, because I could have opened it on the plane and realised it was just a physical thing. Too late then, isn’t it?
I prefer second hand bookshops most of the time anyway, so I suspect the marketing supremos would give me up as a dead loss. Stick to writing, honey, they’d say, and leave the rest to us. And I shall do that with pleasure.
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Categories: media and promotion |
Tags: art, books, marketing, publicity, publishing, self promotion | 3 Comments
Such a Boring Person
for a good feed ...
