How I learned to love selling (my) books

There’s no way to get around this basic fact: writers today can’t just be artists; we also have to be salespeople.

Back in the day, the dream scenario used to be that one wrote a book, sold it to a publisher, and they did all the business of promoting and distributing and selling. I’m not entirely sure that dream scenario ever really existed IRL, except for those precious few authors who either hit it lucky with the hot new thing, or have developed big and loyal readerships over the course of their careers. But those lucky few, it always seemed to me, were able to just get on with the business of writing, having outsourced the decidedly dirtier business of selling to someone else.

The rest of us, however, have to get up on our feet, and pitch our books to the public. (My ten tips for selling in person are below. Or you can skip all that and see them here.)

This isn’t a new thing, by the way. Even Charles Dickens used to do it. I recently went to the Charles Dickens museum in London, where there’s an exhibit of the notes he used when he would do readings. He did those readings because they made him more money than he made in book sales. For example, on one book tour, in the US in 1867 and 1868, he made 20,000 pounds, which would be roughly two million pounds today. And yes, he was able to make that money because he was a well-known author … but he knew those readings also boosted sales of the books.

“It was more than a reading; it was an extraordinary exhibition of acting …without a single prop or bit of costume, by changes of voice, by gesture, by vocal expression, Dickens peopled his stage with a throng of characters” Edgar Johnson (Dickens’ biographer)

I point to Dickens only to say that no matter how good a writer you are, if you want to make money from your art, you’re almost certainly going to have to be a sales person, too.

That was not an easy thing for me to internalize. When my first book was sold, to Tor/Forge, in 2017 (thank you Lisa G), I was offered a two-book deal, and so I got on with writing the second book. Too late, I realized that I needed to be working just as hard on promoting the first book as I was polishing the second. It’s not that I was a slacker: I did what the publicity crew asked me to do – on social, on my blog – but I didn’t realize how important it was, or what it was I was actually doing there.

I was selling. I was making contact with a public, with potential readers. And every point of contact is a potential point of sale.

This is why the Internet, and social media in particular, is such a powerful sales tool for writers. In the past, the only points of contact for authors were in person at readings (rare), via boosters in bookstores (rarer) or via the gatekeepers in the media (rarest). Now writers can connect directly, via their websites, via email, on web platforms like Substack, and on social media.

Now, I know all this, but I am not good at it. I’m learning how to use social without letting social corrupt my soul (and finding that very hard). I’m also learning how to use newsletters and email marketing (not quite as hard, but still, not easy).

But what I’m really trying to do is leverage a skill that I’ve been developing over the seven years that I’ve been trying to establish myself as a full-time novelist: the skill of selling in person.

This is a really hard thing for most writers to do. Most writers, when they’re given the opportunity to sell their books, at readings, literary festivals and other events, plonk themselves behind a table heaped with their books … and wait. I used to do this. I’d sit there, mute. Passive. Hopeful. And I was usually disappointed.

But one day, I decided I was going to get out in front of the problem, literally. I was at a mystery festival called Bouchercon. My books were on the table. Nobody was stopping to look or to talk to me. My work clearly wasn’t speaking for itself. And how could it? There was so much competition! So much noise!

So I decided I was going to get out in front of the stall and start talking to people.

At first this was really hard. What was I supposed to say? “Hey, you want to buy my book?” What a turn-off.

Then I noticed that almost everyone who passed was holding one or two books. So I started asking them what they’d bought. That led to a conversation about books, which I was eventually able to steer towards my own offerings. And I made a couple of sales!

That gave me confidence. Enough to start asking people what they were looking for; what they were into. Mystery, obviously. But what subgenre? Military? Romance? How about a little historical; would that interest you? Once I’d walked them down that line a while, I’d deliver my logline. And sell some more.

I got bolder. I complemented a gentleman on his sports jacket (woven silk; green with a pink windowpane, from Puglia). I asked a couple where they bought their iced coffees. Both those conversations sold books. A passer-by heard my accent, and asked if I was Irish. Next I was giving pub and restaurant recommendations for Dublin. And selling more books.

That gave me more ideas. I started asking people if they had any Irish ancestry. Why, yes indeed! Were they interested in a story about the Irish immigrant experience in New York? Well, that sounds interesting… tell me more!

I was having a ball. Not only was I selling books, I was laughing at jokes, making others laugh with my own (usually terrible) jokes, and reveling in the connections that I was making.

Part of me was skeptical. Was I being manipulative? Was I only making friends with people in order to sell them something? I thought long and hard about that afterwards, and concluded that while I may have started with that motivation, that’s not where I ended up. I sat at that table to sell books. I got out from behind it to sell books. But I stayed out there, chatting and laughing with people because I enjoyed it. Sure, I sold some books, but it wasn’t the sales that filled me up; it was the joy of human contact. The banter. The craic.

So what’s the secret to selling in person?

It’s really quite simple: engagement. Remember, every point of contact is a point of sale. You might not sell a book with every point of contact, but unless you make those connections, you won’t sell anything at all. You have to engage.

1. Put yourself out there. You can’t wait for people to come to you. As we say in the journalism world, you have to meet people where they are. And increasingly they are online. So, establish a place for people to connect with you. Social media. Website. Newsletter. Some kind of online platform. Pick one to get you started, and run up the flag. It’s a little dated now, but Austin Kleon’s Show Your Work is a great guide for doing this, without doing your head in.

2. Reach out. Connect with organizations that want writers to interact with them in the real world. Friends of Library Groups. Writers associations, like the Mystery Writers of America, for example. Offer yourself up as a resource.

3. Say yes. If someone offers you the opportunity to go to an event where you can represent yourself and your work, say yes. Book clubs. Library events. Talks to senior groups. Talks to school literary groups.

4. Prepare. The more prepared you are, the more relaxed and natural you’re going to be when you get to the venue. Learn about the event and the organization running it. Read up on any other writers that will be there. Have your business cards ready. Bring more books with you than you think you’re going to sell. Arrive early. Dress appropriately. All of this will endear you to the organizers, and that will generate more engagements.

5. Get out in front. You will be given a table to sit behind. If fifty people are lined up in front of it, ready to buy your book and have it signed, great. If not, that table is a trap. Once you’re behind it, you’re restricted to interacting with people who come to you. You don’t have a way of making points of contact and drawing people in.

6. Find an ice-breaker. Look at the people passing by. What books are they carrying? What are they wearing? What are they interested in? How are they enjoying the event? What talks have they been to? Start with an open ended question.

7. Be a good human. Make eye contact. Be polite. Smile. Don’t push yourself on anyone. All the rules of good manners apply.

8. Be curious. These are book people, which means they’re you’re people. They are interested and interesting. Show interest in them, and they will reciprocate. Eventually they will want to know about your work. Be ready.

9. Have your log line ready. A log line is a short (usually one sentence) description of a movie, used to pitch a project. Work up a logline for your book, and be ready to deliver it when queried by a reader. Practice in the mirror. A lot. Be comfortable enough with your log line to adjust to the reader’s taste, so that you can play up the romance in your book, for example, to one reader, and the theme of racial tension to another.

10. Don’t be attached to the outcome. Not everyone is going to be into your work. Not everyone is going to buy your book. That’s okay. If you had a good conversation with a person, they might recommend you to a friend who is into what you’re writing. Remember, it’s all about the interaction. That’s the fun part. The sale, if you make one, is the icing on the cake. You’ve still made a point of contact that can bear fruit in other ways. And you’ve achieved several other goals: you’ve thickened your skin; you’ve worked out your social muscles; you’ve made a friend and probably learned something. You’ve also probably boosted your social score: that person might well spread the word about you. Which could lead to more sales down the road.

Good luck!