Failure of a Salesman

I couldn't sell a donut to a man dying of hunger.

Doesn’t this look like the kind of book you want to buy?

You know the old, vaguely inappropriate saying, “He could sell ice to an Eskimo?” Well, I couldn’t sell ice to someone stranded on a desert island in the tropics. Someone dying of heatstroke wouldn’t buy my ice. Someone with a lukewarm glass of sweet tea would wait to see if anything better came along.

This is a problem, since I am trying to sell my books[1]. I go to book fairs about every other weekend, set up a booth and all my socially awkward feelings come crashing down on me. Granted, I don’t have books called [Insert active noun like “song” or “dance”] of [Insert something dramatic like “fire”] and [Insert something dramatic and kinda related to the first dramatic word like “ash”]. The Song of Fire and Ash type books seem to sell like hotcakes[2]. The Dance of Time and Passage would, too.

Maybe I should just retitle my books.

Writers and readers tend to be introverts, and I live by a do-unto-others philosophy. The hard sell irritates me. I like online shopping because I can wander in the virtual aisles by myself without being harassed by a salesperson. I like brick-and-mortar bookstores because usually there’s a person with an eyebrow piercing behind the counter reading her own book who will studiously ignore me while I make my own choices. She’ll answer a question I ask, but only if I ask.

Generally speaking, I’m an acquired taste. Not for everyone, but you’re not going to be taken in at the first bite. More than once, I’ll have known someone for years before we become friends. Every once in a while I’ll just connect with someone right away, but generally it takes time. I have a lot of great qualities, but charm isn’t one of them.

I’m okay with this. I think of myself like a complex bleu cheese. A little sharp, kinda tangy, maybe even a little musty, but in the right doses[3], exquisite.

I like to watch other people operate, especially charming people, because it’s so far out of my realm of understanding. But I can’t help but think, if I were going table to table looking at booths, I would not want to be trapped by an eager salesperson. Some people who only think they’re charming will go on at length about the plot of their books, so that I think, “Why would you buy it? You already know what happens.” They outsell me, most of the time, primarily, I think, because the customer thinks, “If I give you $12, will you shut up?”

What do I know? I know that’s what I would be thinking. I swear. I’m not being unfriendly, I’m being respectful of your space. I feel like an idiot being aggressive about it, like I’m saying, “Look at me! Buy my book! It’s amazing and will change your life!” It won’t. I think it’s good, and I think you’ll enjoy spending a few hours with it, maybe even think about some of the things I’ve tried to say down the road, but that’s it. I’m not selling miracles: I’m selling entertainment.

I suppose I should be more entertaining while doing so. Maybe I’ll wear a chicken hat or something to get people’s attention. I’m fine when they talk to me, I just don’t know what to say to them without sounding like a huckster.

I guess I should put out a bowl of candy. That lures people in.

Until then, buy my books? Please? You can find them wherever you buy books. Or here: Lori B. Duff | Official Publisher Page | Simon & Schuster

[Also, I should add: sales of the book are fine. I’m just talking about my ability to make an in-person pitch to a stranger.]

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[1] #BuyMyBooks #ShamelessSelfPromotion Lori B. Duff | Official Publisher Page | Simon & Schuster

[2] Why is this phrase a thing? Has anyone, outside of an IHOP, seen hotcakes sell like…well…hotcakes?

[3] And maybe with the right red wine.