I write this as a public service. There are multiple aspects of this post I would rather not even talk about, but I feel like documenting them would be helpful to other indie writers. So I will.
I have spent the month of September on a book tour. Sort of. I’ve done the best book tour I can do as an indie writer. And throughout the experience I have had multiple writers approach me in person and via social media to ask how I set it all up. The best I can offer is a timeline of the experience.
August 8th
My second book, Graffiti Creek, is released. I struggled to schedule appearances for my first book. Although my publisher helps with those types of things, they are an indie press. So anything local is pretty dependant on me making some inroads. And since I suck at self-promotion, I made few. My goal for the second book was to do a better job. I had paid attention to more successful (major publisher) writers and how they did signings. There were a few at universities and the like, but most were scheduled at indie bookstores, which made perfect sense to me. However, one of the major problems I have faced as an indie writer is being in a market with few venues for appearances. Texarkana, where I live, does not have an independent bookstore. We have two guys who stand outside of two separate pizza establishments and dance with giant arrow signs. But zero independent bookstores.
In fact, in the entire state of Arkansas, there are only five (kind of four) independent bookstores. I made it my goal to contact them all. I started with a tweet. I looked up each store and found their Twitter handles, and I tweeted @ all of them with my desire to put together a little tour. The two I couldn’t get on Twitter, I found on Facebook. For the record, Dog Ear Books in Russellville, Nightbird Books in Fayetteville, and Wordsworth Books in Little Rock all responded (relatively quickly) to the tweet. Jefferson St. Books in El Dorado sort of responded to a Facebook message (although we never could set up a date). That Bookstore In Blytheville did not respond to a Facebook message. Which I can tell they read. Because you can tell on Facebook Messenger. So … if they’re reading this … yeah … fuck you guys.
August 8th - August 31st
This was a rather frustrating few weeks. Although the initial contact was made, none of the details were worked out. I discovered quickly that the person running the Twitter for a store is not necessarily the store’s owner. I had to get all three stores on the phone and talk about specifics. And here is where I learned one very important factor concerning an indie book tour. While one would think the indie press and the indie bookstore would be best friends, that is not the case by a long shot. An indie press struggles to offer the types of discounts and return policies offered by the major publishers. So, even though my book is available on Ingram’s and other major distributors, indie bookstores can’t afford to take a gamble on a book they will have to likely mark up over its normal retail price and can’t return. This all means that, as an indie writer, we struggle to get a foot in the door of a big box store (those guys can be total dicks … not everywhere, but I have not had good experiences … looking at you Texarkana Books-A-Million), AND we aren’t exactly anywhere on the radar of an indie store for the reasons listed above. In my experience, indie stores had trouble differentiating me from a self-published author. Nothing against the self-published, here. I love self-pubbed writers. Know many and they are every bit as talented, if not more, than many of the traditionally pubbed writers I know (including myself). But it is still frustrating to have to continue to remind someone hosting your signing that you actually have a publisher, are distributed by Ingram’s, have a publicist you can contact, etc., etc. My experiences ranged from never being able to get a commitment on a date (Jefferson St. Books) to having conversations about setting goals for book sales before making the commitment. During this span of time, I was desperately wanting to get the word out, but I had to wait to know where all I was going, which took time.
September 1st
Here is where having a publisher really paid off. Once my four appearances (I was shooting for more like seven, trimmed it to five, ended up with four) were solidified, I contacted my publisher for some promotional materials. The brilliant Don Kramer was able to put together a poster for the whole tour the same day. I sent it on to the stores and started spreading it on social media. The experience has made me realize I need better headshots (I look like the saddest boy at Papaw’s funeral), but I got some circulation on the posts. I used Facebook ads with targeted audiences of readers in the towns I was visiting for three-day bursts leading up to the visit. I spent about fifteen bucks, I think. I don’t know if it got anyone to turn out, but according to Facebook (grain of fucking salt, everybody), it generated some clicks. For fifteen bucks? I’d probably do it again.
September 7th
I make my first appearance in Russellville, Arkansas, at Dog Ear books. We scheduled the signing to coincide with something called the Downtown Art Walk. The people of Dog Ear books encouraged me to do it that night because the traffic would be high. And they were right. I saw a lot of people. Way more than bought books, which is okay. I made my first sale to an eleven-year-old girl. And if you have read my books, you understand why that is a little horrifying. But I posed for a picture with her. She was very sweet. Her mother most likely hates me by now. I also taught two kids even younger than eleven the proper way to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (peanut butter on both slices of bread, jelly in the middle), but they didn’t buy a book (thank god). I was actually set up next to another indie writer from nearby, and she had, like, a whole thing. She had jewelry and bookmarks and shit. It made me look bad. We each sold six or seven books. I sold another four to the store before I left, so I ended up selling ten or eleven (can’t remember for sure). But I met a lot of interesting people. I talked the store into ordering some books of writers I like. I think I got a lady to buy another Pandamoon title. And I met a young lady who wants to write. I read and made some comments on an essay she had written. She told me about some difficult things in her life and we both cried a little. She didn’t buy a book, for anyone keeping score at home. After the signing, though, I got to have a beer and some pizza with Eli Cranor (he bought because he’s a dreamboat), a friend and fellow Arkansas writer (who will soon be far more successful than I … write the name down … for real). And the following morning I had breakfast with Travis Simpson (I bought, to get karma back headed my direction, twenty dollars), who will soon have a sci-fi career, mark my words. I think, when I look back on the experience, those will be the highlights of the trip.
September 8th
I left Russellville, checking out of my seventy-nine dollar Comfort Inn and Suites room (where the front desk clerk became the first of at least twelve people to tell me she “always wanted to write a book but never had the time” … and where I am almost certain I was the only guest), and headed for Fayetteville. It was a rainy Saturday, and I started my time in Fayetteville by taking an hour long nap in my car in a Target parking lot. I then went into Target to buy some four-dollar socks (which I had forgotten to pack, full disclosure). I located Nightbird Books on Dickson Street and met the first of two young men working the front counter who spoke mostly in variants of the word cool. Sometimes it was a different word, but used in the same context. Most of the time it was the actual word, but spoken with no inflection on the l sound, which, when done repeatedly as it was, made them both sound kind of like pigeons. I left my suitcase full of books (this was, after all, a professional operation) with the first of the pigeon brothers and walked down the street to get an ice cream at Burton’s Creamery (Ryan Burton is from Texarkana, and we have mutual friends). Although Ryan wasn’t there, there were two very nice twelve-year-old girls working the ice cream truck who sold me an ice cream cone dusted with Butterfinger crumbs and didn’t call the cops as I ate it standing in mostly one place right in front of them like a goddamn creep. To be fair, the benches were wet. The ice cream was the only thing I ate that day other than breakfast in Russellville, and it was either the highlight of the day or I had slipped into some sort of sugar trance. It was really good. Five dollars.
The book signing did not go as well. When I returned, the first pigeon brother had been replaced by a second and, to be honest, it took me a long time to realize it had happened. The owner of the store finally showed up for a bit. The first thing she said was, “Not sure how well you’ll do. There’s a Razorback game tonight.” Thanks. Sounds like we (mostly you) picked a fucking winner of a date, huh? That said, she was a delightful lady, and I thoroughly enjoyed talking to her. Again, full disclosure, I was less than pleased with the efforts on the store’s part to market the signing. I was grateful for them hosting me, but let’s put some things in perspective here, shall we? I sold thirteen books that night. Thirteen books, at a 60-40 split (Dog Ear did 70-30, but whatevs … it’s cool) means the bookstore made about eighty dollars that night in two hours. I provided the books and every person who showed up and bought a book came because of me. Unlike my other stops, not one regular customer of the store popped in or swung by to grab a book. I got the impression this is a frustration an indie writer simply needs to be prepared to stomach. (That said … I am a huge fan of Nightbird Books. I will try to always add them to the list of stops I’m making when I continue to do this. And, hopefully, they will continue to let me stop there. You know … if they read this … and don’t get pissed.) Of course, there were long moments where every person at the Nightbird signing was related to me. That felt a lot like failure. But thirteen books is nothing to sneeze at. I drove home that night, fueling up once for about forty dollars. All told, the trip cost somewhere around one hundred fifty dollars, and I made almost two hundred. It felt very much like a break-even trip.
September 22nd
My third stop was a trip to Little Rock. The owner of Wordsworth Books wanted us to set a goal of selling ten books (which I can totally appreciate now). And she was super serious about it. Like, I was a little afraid of selling less than ten books. For real. But let me get this out there right away, she more than did her part. She advertised it, she put out a plate of cookies, and she brought people in who bought books. While I may have enjoyed my stop at Dog Ear the most, I have to give Wordsworth their due. They probably did the most to support the signing (although Dog Ear was great). The ironic thing about it all is that I sold twelve books in Little Rock (whew). So, the one I was least pleased with was actually the stop where I sold the most books (here’s to family, huh?). The Little Rock signing was a blast though. I had a couple of surprise pop ins. I had friends and family show up to support me. One of them even made some little signs with my sad face on them for the occasion, which was wonderfully embarrassing and hilarious. We had a great time, and several of the people I brought in purchased books other than just mine. I feel pretty confident Wordsworth would have me back. I think I pulled in a good hundred bucks or more worth of business for them in an hour and a half. Not bad. My girlfriend and I made a trip of it, staying at The Capital Hotel, going for beer and tacos with her family after the signing, and doing a little shopping the next day. Therefore, I didn’t make any money when it was all said and done. But I had a great time. Well worth it. For the fried catfish tacos alone.
The Final Verdict
So why do it? If you are going to go for a grand tour as an indie writer, here are my recommendations: don’t expect to make much (any) money, be prepared for some awkwardly small crowds, and try to have some fun with it. But do it. I think it is all worth it, and I will make one final argument for why I think so. One of the things I do obsessively as a writer is to check my Amazon rankings on my author page. My average ranking is to float somewhere around the two hundred thousand mark (which is not as bad as it sounds … there are a lot of authors on Amazon). As I monitored my ranking this month, I noticed something very interesting. I peaked at around eighty or ninety thousand four times this month. One was an apparent anomaly, but three of them happened on September 7th, 8th, and 23rd. Those were the dates of (or day after) my signings. The only conclusion I am left to make is that the increased buzz out there on social media and by meeting people in person led a few people to buy some books. So, while I may have been only moderately happy with the sales I made in person, the increased exposure was making additional sales online. So, really, what more could I ask for? And there it all is. Please excuse the lengthy post. I’m sure most of you TL/DR - ed the fuck out of this one. But for anyone who has had questions about the indie writer book tour, I hope this offers you a little help and guidance. Now get out there and sell some damn books.
Matt Coleman is a writer of crime novels and comedy. His novels, Juggling Kittens and Graffiti Creek are available from Pandamoon Publishing. Learn more at www.mattcolemanbooks.com.