SIGNING BONUS

by John M. Floyd

As any writer can tell you, a book signing event is a unique experience. It always holds the possibility of being either a raging success or a dismal failure, and of course usually falls somewhere between those extremes. But beyond the effort and the salesmanship and the “mechanics” of book signings, which is interesting in itself, there’s another thing about them that never ceases to amaze me: the things people say to writers. Just when you think you’ve heard everything . . .

Both Rob Lopresti and I have already done CB columns on this subject over the past couple of years, but this honestly seems to be one of those parts of a writer’s life where new material surfaces all the time. Art Linkletter’s statement about kids saying the darnedest things applies to the book-shopping crowd as well.

For the past two months I’ve been doing a lot of out-of-town signings to promote my latest collection of mystery shorts, and here are some of the things potential customers have said to me as I stood (I seldom sit) behind or beside my signing table.

And no, I’m not making this up.

Man, I wish I wrote books. What a easy life.

Are you that writer who used to be a lawyer? Grishman?

I found myself in your second book. The beautician at the class reunion. That was me, right?

How much money do you make doing this?

No, don’t personalize it. I might change my mind before I check out.

Actually, I don’t buy book books — I have a Kindle.

You look older than your picture.

Where can I find the Twilight books?

I never heard of you. What’s your name again?

I’d buy one, but my wife has all my money.

You know, my niece is writing a book. It’s about this lady who meets a guy and then dumps him and then moves to Nashville to start a music career and . . . you mind if I sit down?

Will you help me find an agent?

You think this book’ll ever be worth anything?

What does the M. stand for?

Who do you get to fix all your punctuation and stuff?

Short stories? Why don’t you write a real book?

Aren’t you worried about what happened to Salman Rushdie?

You look younger than your picture.

I’ve written three books but they’re all in my head.

Sorry. My husband’s the reader in the family.

You were in the Air Force? I was Army for twenty years. I remember this one time at Fort Sill in ’58 . . .

You wrote a book? That sounds hard.

Your publisher would love my manuscript. Wait, it’s in my car — I’ll go get it.

Did you ever have a real job?

I might buy it for my brother — he doesn’t care what he reads.

What if they make a movie of something you wrote and they want to change it all up?

Is this really your picture?

The point here, if there is one, is that unless you’re famous you’re going to have to get out there and do signings and meet the public, and those of us who do that should look at it not as a chore but as a chance to meet some of the most interesting and wonderful (and confusing) people God put on this Earth. I never fail to make a few new friends in the process, and I often stay there at the store a lot longer than I’d planned to, and I always come away with a few characters I can include in future stories.

If that isn’t a bonus I don’t know what is.