What’s the Point of a Book Signing?

On Saturday, April 11th, I spent the day at Plenty, an independent bookshop in Cookeville, Tennessee, where I talked about Faith Simplified with customers. It was a good experience, especially because it gave me the chance to introduce this book to people entirely unfamiliar with it. Some even bought copies.

It was a long day. Cookeville is a nearly two hour drive from my home. I didn’t sell through all the books I brought. (But, to be fair, I brought a case.) But that’s okay. I didn’t expect to. I didn’t have a specific target, or a return on investment I was looking to achieve. My goal was to introduce my book to people to people entirely unfamiliar with it—and with me.

That’s what you do when you’re an author.

De-romanticizing the Author Life

Over the last several decades, we’ve been sold a romanticized vision of what it means to be an author. It’s all about the art—the work of writing, and the procrastinating we all do to avoid actually doing it. We might also have images of glitzy readings, bestseller lists, press tours with national TV interviews, and maybe even multi-city tours dancing through our heads like sugarplums.

And there’s some truth to all of this. Press is part of the gig (and publicists work hard making it all happen). In-store events can happen, even if you’re usually the one doing the work of setting it up. And while I have no idea what’s involved in these multi-city tours I see some folks pulling off, if someone wants to help me figure it out, I’m down.

But the glitzy side of it is less the norm than we realize. And writing is maybe a third of an author’s work. The rest is helping people discover your work. It’s selling the book. Which makes most of us cringe. The idea of marketing or selling our books, for some reason, feels dirty. Inauthentic. And it can be—if we do it inauthentically. If we think we have to do things that are inauthentic, that clash with our personalities and convictions, then we’re doing it wrong. Marketing our books also isn’t something that requires us to have a background in the marketing field. It’s all about talking about this work that we’ve invested our time and hearts into in a way that reflects our hearts.

Connection is the Point

This is what I’ve tried to do with every book I’ve written so far—in a way that invites people into a conversation. It’s a vulnerable kind of work, because it can make rejection, which includes someone not buying your book, feel personal (even if it’s not). The risk doesn’t always feel worth it, especially when we don’t see things turn out the way we expected or hoped. When we do all the things we’re asked, we try all kinds of ideas, and be ourselves, and… nothing. Social media engagement is virtually non-existent. Sales aren’t what we’d hoped. Instead of selling hundreds the first week, we sell tens, and every copy thereafter seems hard won.

But just because we can’t see what’s happening doesn’t mean nothing is. And when there’s so much noise on the internet, and we’re prone to be terminally online, we can mistake social media for reality. That’s where the hard work comes in: Sending emails. Making phone calls (ugh). Arranging talks and in-store meet-and-greets and book clubs everywhere you can. Driving sometimes two or three hours to sell a handful of copies of your book, and celebrating every single one. Why? Because you are making human connections. Talking to real people. That’s who we write for; that’s whose lives we’re trying to affect in some way with our words. People.

I’ve got another book event on April 26th in Franklin, Tennessee, this time during its annual Main Street Festival. It’s going to be another long day. I’ll probably bring more copies of Faith Simplified than I’ll need. I have no idea how many I’ll sell. But that’s okay. As long as I can talk to some real people, if I can invite them into a conversation through this book, it’s worth it.

But if you’re in the area, I hope I’ll see you there.