Selling books in a Freezer

 It's been a while since I paid any attention to this blog which I am fairly sure few people read. I did have a busy spring with author events of various kinds nearly every other weekend while doing edits on number eight of the Longleigh Chronicles, The Earl's Ugly Mistress, to be out in July. Galley has been proofed so we are on schedule.

Now where did I leave off? Oh, yes, I was about to tackle selling books at a library event. I've said before no one sells much inside a library. People browse, take the freebies which I have given up providing, and maybe a book card and say they will read the library copy--and never leave a review. So, mostly I smooze with them and other authors that I see at so many of these events we've become friends. Knowing this and going mostly to see friends, I signed up for an author's row at a library where I've gone before knowing it would be very chilly inside and no food would be available.

Prepared, I wore long sleeves and packed a lunch and snacks as we had to be there from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon. I'd asked to be seated near two of my author friends to have someone to talk to during the long lulls when everyone avoids your table. Eight of us were placed in a small meeting room off a long hallway. Others were in the center of the library and some out in the hall. Since every year sprouts more new authors, mostly self-published inspirational books or books about their moms or family, I can tell you those others were lucky. 

Our small room was the temperature of a meat locker which often happens when the thermostat is set to cool a large area. My author friends who had not brought a sweater took periodic breaks outside to warm up and later went to a nearby McDonald's to bring back a lunch. I said I'd watch their tables. No worries as not one person took a look at our wares all morning due to something I'd never encountered before in all my years of doing these things.

One of the authors in our room had proudly published a textbook on teaching phonics--and asked her church group to come and support her effort. One by one a dozen elderly women wandered in and found a chair. The library staff had to bring in more seats and lined them up in a long row.. Her support group then sat down and placed a copy of the book in their laps and sat there for close to three hours, not even talking. The author took single pictures of each one right in front of the door to the room. Who wants to enter when they might mess up someone's photo? Other people peeked in and probably thought a meeting was in progress.

On a bathroom and warmup break, I did ask one lady why they were there. To support our author friend, she said. I had to admire their stamina. Elderly as they were, they could have caught pneumonia in there. I told her as nicely as I could that usually support meant buying a book, talking to the author for a short time, and moving on. No need to sit there all day. She didn't take my advice but between noon and one, they began to get hungry and left--only to be replaced by more supporters in the afternoon. No one sold anything except the phonics lady who had clogged the room with her friends.

A half hour before closing, the aunt of one of my friends arrived and bought one of her books and another from the friend sitting next to her. Only half joking, I said, "Why not one of mine?" The reply, "Oh, I promised the woman across from you I'd buy her T-shirt, and I only have ten dollars left for that." And she ran away. I am not usually so needy as I know how it goes. What amazed me was she came back clutching twelve dollars in cash damp with sweat from being outdoors and did buy one of my books. She explained she'd had to go to an ATM for more cash, bless her heart. 

After my one sale, I figured that was it. Time to pack up, but as I was doing that. another woman entered the room and hastily went down the line buying one book from each author in the meat locker, but not the phonics lady. Her arms were filled with books. I gave her a nice canvas bag to hold them all as I have many of these from conferences and and it is a good way to repurpose them. She was grateful but scurried off. I still don't know her motivation as she barely looked at the titles, but hey, a sale is a sale. Having made my usual quota of two sales at these library events, I finished packing, loaded up, and didn't turn on the A/C in the car, though it was a hot day, until I thawed out. 

What I really got out of this event was a good story to tell.

Caterpillars in my Hair-or the Joys of Selling Books Outdoors

      I see I skipped my blog for March, and no wonder. In the space of four weeks, I had three authors events to prepare for and attend with two more to come, and of course, Easter to celebrate in there somewhere.  Two of the events were arts and crafts fairs and one a literary festival, all outdoors. Two I had done before and knew the layout, how far tables and chairs, and boxes of books had to be lugged from parking, when I could set up and when I could leave. The third was a new arts and crafts fair held at a historic home with a huge oak grove. Spaces were marked out but not assigned and the earliest we could get in was seven-thirty for a ten o'clock start. The places was about a ten mile drive from home.  We arrived at eight-thirty to find many of the spaces gone but still got a good enough place along the walkway between the parking lot and the house. Best of all, we could park at our space making setup so much easier, especially for my husband who has to do all the hauling of the heavy stuff and put up a tent advertised at being easy to do--but isn't.  For one, I am not tall enough to raise the tent to its proper level and the other, just not good at tent pitching. Usually, I sit in the chair we've brought along and listen to him cuss as he gets the canopy up. You can, of course, skip a tent, but I learned my lesson the first time it rained and I had to hustle all my paperback books into boxes and beg the person in the adjoining tent for temporary shelter. Just an aside, also pack your books in plastic boxes that keep the weather out.

      I had my thirty-five books set up in their vertical racks and some art work on a trellis ready to go by opening. Let me tell you, ten to three is a looong day when you are alone behind those tables. My husband usually goes home after the setup and returns a half hour before closing. Sometimes, he'll show up to give me a lunch break and chance to walk around and use the bathroom without my having to ask the neighbors to watch my stuff. I always pack a lunch as I don't really have time to stand in line for food and often there is no food at all. In this case, there was also a gumbo cookoff and the vendors were given a free ticket to get a cup. It went well with my sandwich and apple and Coke Zero. Lots of other food booths sold soul food, barbecue, and boiled crawfish, but that can get messy around books. I used to give out cookies until I learned that small children will take a chocolate chip, then smear it all over any books that that attract them. No more cookies and chocolate freebies in my booth, just book cards anyone can take. The kids like the ones with the fireman and the football kicker on the cover. Oh, and always bring a rag to wipe down any besmirched books.

     I also strive to find a place with some shade. Here in Louisiana, you can take a tan or a sunburn even under a tent. In March which I consider arts and crafts season, the temperatures can go up to eighty by three o'clock. I'd got a space under a tall water oak and was quite content until I found a caterpillar in my hair. I was under a tarp and couldn't image how it got there. But over time, I plucked two more from my head. They were small striped ones, not the black stinging variety that I sometimes encountered at another fair, and thank heaven for that! I am not squeamish or vindictive, and so plucked them from my hair gently and put them on the ground where they met other little friends and had a party on my book boxes which were well sealed. I gave up trying to relocate them as they appeared to just return. I ended up amusing myself during the slow hours by watching them tangle and repel down the sides of the boxes only to climb up again. Cheap fun.

     As I said, it was a new event and the crowd was light. It did earn back the forty dollar fee for the space and forty more in sales. People who preferred e-books picked up my cards to check them out on Amazon which might mean future sales. I always try to get a browser to take a card with all my titles on the back and a blurb for my newest at the top. Since I provide bags recycled from other places like  the WW II Museum, Graceland, and our local pie restaurant which are greatly appreciated and cost me nothing, I always put my latest book cards in there with their purchases. You just never know if that will result in another sale. Anyhow, I did okay other than insulting a person who wanted me to come down on a price for a painting of a magnolia in a gold frame marked $50. I had to remind her this was original art and the frame cost thirty dollars, not a garage sale. She huffed off, but sorry, twenty dollars didn't even cover the cost of the canvas and paint. 

     Around two, disappointed vendors started leaving. Most had Easter crafts or were selling soaps and witty plaques. There hadn't been many buyers. I think the folks who put it on did their best, but I don't know if they will do it again next year. It was worth it for me. I'd go another time, but check the space for caterpillars first.

Saying Goodbye to a Series

      With the greatest of regrets, I am ending my long running Sinners sport romances after fifteen years with characters I've come to love.  This isn't the first time I've ended a series. Some were only intended for three books like my Mardi Gras books which are still popular. I've had requests for more of these, but ended them long ago and have no really good ideas for more.  Queen of the Mardi Gras Ball, Mardi Gras Madness, and Courir de Mardi Gras have aged well.

     In another series dilemma a while back, I'd written four books, but the last was turned down by my primary publisher because they didn't want my ghost character to have committed a gentle suicide which is why she was condemned to haunt her family home forever. Without this plot device, the book wouldn't work. After the rejection, I took it to my secondary publisher who was glad to put it into print, but both contracts had clauses that claimed rights to further books in the series. Not wanting to get into legal issues, I retired that series even though I'd planned two more titles.

     Which brings me back to the Sinners. I got my first break in publishing with the first title, Goals for a Sinner, a short, light football romance and the sixth book I'd written. Very taken with the quarterback secondary character, I wrote another book about him and his womanizing ways in Wish for A Sinner.. Since then, not a year has gone by without a new Sinners book. This was my bread and butter series which always sold no matter what else I published.   People discovered one of the titles and went on to read all of them.

     But last year, 2022, my sales tanked. Royalties dropped to one-hundred dollars for the entire year even with a new title being released. Getting reviews has become impossible with all the Amazon restrictions. I know one person who wanted to post a review but was told she had to spend fifty dollars with them before she could post. She hasn't tired since. Of course, there is always the possibility that no one is reading the books or don't like them so they won't review them to spare my feelings. Some of this might be due to the TikTok scam where people bought books and returned them in seven days thus robbing authors of royalties for their work and not hurting Amazon one bit, but I have no sure way of knowing that.

     So, I am crafting The Last of the Sinners to bring my characters to an end.  It's like losing old friends.  In my mind, they live on, winning games, finding love, having children. If anyone wants to know what they are doing after the final chapter, I could tell them.

     I will still be writing my Longleigh Chronicles, a Regency series with ten children to marry off.  Three more to go in these. With all the research required, they will keep me busy for some time. Expect The Earl's Ugly Mistress to be out next year. But I will still be missing my Sinners.

Christmas, writing, and other disasters

      As I said last year, publishers close down in December, one of mine for a month, the other for two weeks. I have a new book coming out at the end of January, Edie's Sinner,, so not much to do between now and then. I am grateful that the new Sinners book will not be out until January 30th as it will be safe from the TicToc scam that robbed me of nearly all of my royalties for 2022. Really, I should spend months creating a new book for some TicTocer to read while sipping a Starbucks coffee that costs more than my e-books, only to have them send it back in the seven day period for a refund that cancels my modest royalty. Evidently, they hated my Sinners series so much they read and returned them all, and I got not a cent. In the spirit of Christmas, I am trying to forgive them for being so naive they thought they were  harming Amazon.instead of thousands of authors who only get a $1.68 a book from each book read. I doubt Amazon and big name authors noticed while those with a small following were crushed. On to other disasters.

     With planning for a family visit, getting all the decorations up, and gifts purchased, I had scant time to write, which happens every year, but I did get an unexpected incentive from an unwelcome incident, a tornado strike a block from my house. As I removed cookies from the oven, the TV weatherman said, "A tornado is headed for downtown New Iberia"--and then the lights went out. Downtown is two miles away and full of historic houses, the museum and library, the courthouses, and many small local businesses. I said a little prayer for them and got out my storm radio, candles, flashlights, etc. that we keep on hand for hurricanes. I did not hear the train a comin' at the end of street where three houses were severely damaged after the tornado finished blowing out the windows of the hospital across the bayou and moved on to destroy a dentist's office and a Dollar Store across the street. I did not know what had happened until my husband, who was out running errands, called and said he could not get home because the main street was blocked off by emergency vehicles and police. I'd heard the sirens but they seemed to be moving away from our area. Eventually, the police turned the massive traffic jam around. He got home a half hour later from a one mile trip to the grocery for milk by going miles out of the way.

     The power returned at four p.m. after being out about five hours in time for a hot dinner.  However, though the phones worked, both land line and cell, television and computer service did not--for two days. I could fire up my desktop and write all day, but not much else. At least, friends and family who saw the destruction on the news were able to get in touch to ease their worries. Some messages came from as far away as Pennsylvania, my native state. It was comforting that so many thought about us. So, I did write, missed the finale of Ghosts, but watched Broken Wood and Brother Cadfael DVDs, and counted my blessings that our house still stood strong and undamaged, only some sugar cane debris from a nearby field dotting our yard. Very sorry for our neighbors who will be months or years rebuilding.

     Leaving the neighborhood was difficult as the exit street remained closed with a police car blocking the road at either end. I managed to get out by skirting the road and cutting across the convenience story parking lot to reach my water exercise class the long way around, but on coming home wet and ready for a hot shower, was stopped by the cops and asked for ID to enter the neighborhood. I rarely take my license to the pool, was sure I had it on my phone, only found my Covid ID card, no good as it had no address on it, was pawing in the glove compartment for my car registration all the while saying, "I live right there just behind you." Finally, the officer got tired of waiting, and told me to just go home. I guess I didn't look like looter or lookie-loo. Next day, same routine going in and out as the power company set the utility poles upright again with massive machines, but I kept my license out on the dashboard. Absolutely grateful they were looking out for the neighborhood and aiding in getting those poles back up, but what a hassle.

     And so I come to the end of my disasters to wish all of us free of hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, earthquakes, and  forest fires in the New Year and gain readers that appreciate a good book enough to pay for it.

Up Close, Personal, and More Profitable

    As I have watched my online royalties slip from $100 a quarter to $10 with no sales showing for my most popular series due to the Tiktok scammers who read a book, then return it, cheating the author of any royalty (I mean would they put in four or more months of work and then be okay with not being paid),I am trying to be grateful for the return of book fairs and other events that let me sell my books in person. Selling my titles that I get wholesale at a modest increase, I can make two or three dollars a book versus the one dollar in royalties I earn online. My softcovers are often cheaper than at online publishers, so nice for both seller and buyer. The words I love to hear most as I sit in my tent hawking my wares is "I bought one from you last year and loved it. Which should I read next?"  You never get that kind of feedback from online sales.

     Not that everyone who browses buys. Some are just looking for freebies or jot down a title to order as a cheaper e-book. I save them the trouble by giving out a book card with all the ordering information and a synopsis on the back plus a listing of my other titles. I even keep a short stack of the three of my books that are available on audio for those who say they only listen to books and don't read. As for free stuff, my books cost me ten to twelve dollars and I sell them for fifteen. I can't afford giveaways. Long ago, I stopped giving swag. At one time, I had posters of hunky guys and foam footballs that I gave out. I doubt they ever resulted in a sale, but they did cost money, a dollar for foam footballs and seven for a poster. Now, I only give them out with sales as I found a small amount of both when I was doing inventory of my books in storage.

     I offered a foam football to anyone buying my sports romances, The Sinners series. One woman with two sons pondered Heart of a Sinner for some time, reading the back blurb, paging through it, while her sons begged for a football.  I told her I'd give her two with a sale.  Instead she snapped at her sons, "Why don't you pay for the book then," and stalked off. I image she went home and used the Tictok scam to get it for free. On the other hand, others were tickled to get a sexy guy poster with a sale.

     Some non-sales are still interesting. One asked me if I had any books in French. Nope. I can make myself understood in Spanish and German, but am far from fluent. I suggested she try the book store in town. Turned out she was the teacher for the French immersion students in town and had come here from Paris. We had a pleasant conversation about travels in Europe which I have done during a lull in business.

     At one point, a lovely swallowtail butterfly came to visit my tent and drew a lot of attention. While that butterfly didn't sell any books, one person bought a mini-painting of a monarch and another purchased a floral painting that she said reminded her of her mother's garden. Yes, I do paint but am a much better writer. Still, a sale is a sale.

     A lot of writers are introverts who hate meeting the public. Not me. I am energized by meeting fans and future fans and even total strangers in person. I enjoy public speaking and have several topics I can speak about. A book club whether large or small, I will attend if I don't have to drive too far. My mother used to say I had the gift of gab, now shut up. And so I shall.

A Place to Write

      I admit I admire authors who can sit down in a Starbuck's, slurp coffee, and work on their latest novel. Also those who blithely settle a laptop on their food tray in a crowded airplane and create away. While I may be forming new chapters behind my closed eyes while flying, I find it difficult to write outside my chosen space---once my daughter's bedroom, now called the computer room though it still has a bed in it.        There sits my old desktop computer with the keys that still make sound when hit reminiscent of the days when I typed on an Olivetti portable typewriter, but not nearly as loud. I have a well-worn office chair comfortable enough for napping and adjusted to my height. The desk the screen sits on has enough space for my ever-present cup of hot tea, a printer, and a stack of notes to myself at my left hand because I am left-handed. Its file drawer is overstuffed with the real paper folders I keep on each book for quick reference including a list of characters and copies of my contracts. I also have the contracts on the hard drive, but you can't be too careful with legal stuff. Yeah, I am kind of old-fashioned. I don't trust the cloud. Where is it? What is it? 

     I also like peace and quiet when I write. I don't listen to music because it distracts me. I have to hum along or even sing if I like the song which is not conducive to getting words down on a page. I might leave a TV on in another room for white noise, and if any big event takes place I will be alerted by the blast of sound saying Breaking News or Tornado Warning! Sadly, this is why I saw the events of January Sixth and am aware of every school shooting. After watching those, going back to writing seems trivial, but ultimately, I need to escape into my books and craft a story that will give readers some relief from the real world. A fan recently told me that when they are down, they pick up one of my titles and always feel better at the end. A happy ending is guaranteed with every title. I was also touched when I checked my blog stats that someone in Ukraine was reading my post. I try to make them useful and amusing, but bless their heart that in an unjustly war-torn country they can give me even a few minutes of their time.

     Recently, we had some renovations done on our forty-year-old house. Every shot of the nail gun make me jump even though I'd closed the door and tried to immerse myself in writing. Can't be done. So, there is always Facebook in cases like this. I also lose lots of time to travel which I love to do. When I am on vacation I vacate my writing and simply enjoy that jet boat ride down the Snake River or the depths of Mammoth Cave. The guilt comes later when I get home and am way behind my self-imposed writing schedule.

     Then there is the struggle of sharing my favorite space with my husband who has a very nice laptop but prefers the comfy chair and the desktop, too. No problem before he retired. I used it all day, and he got it all night because I wind down around three-thirty, watch Jeopardy, and make dinner. After that, I stay off the computer. I find it makes for a better night's sleep to pack it away, watch TV, read someone else's books, or do crossword puzzles. Fortunately, my husband is an astronomer who loves to use the computer far into the night if he isn't outside observing a transit of Venus or a flyover of the space station. Still, even though he occasionally bumps me off for a zoom meeting with his planetarium friends, we still manage to get along, though I will get aggressive if I feel the need to write while he is facebooking.

     Did I mention I did not start writing until my children were grown and gone to college?  Try sharing your writing space with a teen, but now they would mostly be obsessed by their phones so not a problem. As for writing with small children around. Just forget about it.

Before you return a Book, Think

 The latest thing in the cult of free is to take advantage of Amazon's seven day return policy on books. Ha, ha! You paid $5.99 for an e-book, devoured it in two days and returned it for a refund. Do you think Amazon cares? They are a huge, rich organization and would hardly notice or care. Who does? The author, who would have earned $1.68 in royalties on a work that took months of research and writing, then editing and doing all the little details needed to get that book out from cover selection to the blurb on the back, does. That is a year's worth of effort blown off by a person who could surely afford the $5.99 or they would be using the library to get books. Even a library app pays the author ten cents for each usage, not much, but something.

Of course, these are the same people who take advantage of the page reads, paying less than a penny a page. They read all but a few pages, get the deep discount, and a royalty for that book goes from 84 cents to 48 cents. I've asked for my books to be taken out of this program, because, well, it cheats authors many of whom have to earn at least $25 in royalties just to get a quarterly check. If not, the tiny earnings are held until the end of the year, not worth the paper four checks would be printed on and mailed. These are the majority of authors. I am sure Nora Roberts doesn't feel the pinch or any of the other big names in writing. When you sell millions of copies and probably get a big advance before the books comes out, who cares about a little cheating on behalf of the reader.

Generally, I make the $25 cut, but when I see that one of my books was been returned, no idea why but I am just guessing-getting it for free, I do notice the hole punched in my royalty statement--and yes, returns are reported. It is possible to end up in the hole. On my best year, I was able to afford a new French door refrigerator by saving up all my royalties. Another year I paid my half of a trip to Alaska. I sometimes refer for this account as my travel money. Both re lovely things, but I certainly am not making a living at writing. 

I write because I enjoy it and hope my readers do, too. If borrowed from a library or scammed from Amazon, even a review would be appreciated in lieu of payment, assuming the reader did not hate the book, but we never know the why of it. Consider, do you give a panhandler begging outside Walmart and holding up a barely legible sign a dollar out of pity. I guarantee some of these folks take home more in a day than I do writing. So, have some compassion for writers, too. Pay for the damn book and put $1.68 in our pocket.