Almost Famous

Not!

Every time a new book like “Blood of the Reich” comes out, I typically make a pilgrimage to bookstores, talk on the radio, answer questions for book websites, and otherwise do what I can to call attention.

Books can’t sell if readers don’t know they exist, and while word-of-mouth is the most effective marketing tool, you can’t have people recommending a story if they haven’t tried it. Since any book will be liked by some and put aside by others, the “secret” is to have as many people try it as possible.

Hence, publicity efforts and that curious, sometimes affirming and sometimes discouraging ritual of the bookstore reading, a creaky artifact that remains a cozy way to have personal contact with readers. I love your questions!

My biggest readings were for my first book, “The Final Forest,” when hundreds turned out because of the political emotions surrounding logging in the Pacific Northwest. My smallest have been one attendee, as in uno, most recently with a fan who ignored a rare balmy Seattle evening to get a book signed. I’ve had a couple other winter presentations where my sole audience has been a street person trying to get warm.

The Hollywood version of bookstore window filled with nothing but an author’s book and a line of glamorous buyers is, alas, largely fantasy.

Most readings range from a handful of readers to several dozen. In a celebrity-obsessed culture in which movies or television shows can draw millions, it’s not hard for most authors to keep our egos in check.

We’re not famous. We don’t get better seats in restaurants. Our announcement of occupation, “novelist,” at a cocktail party is as likely to draw a blank stare as a “What do you write?” response.

I’m spending most of this summer on a combination of research travel, personal travel, and book tour travel to stores in four states, Washington, Oregon, California, and Arizona – and enjoying it. I’m always flattered when people come.

I’ve never toured in the South or East, but it’s on my bucket list.

I’m moderately successful, but never have had the “breakthrough” book that vaults me to the top of the bestseller lists or gets me squired around New York. I’m dependable but not notorious. I’m a frequent public speaker because I have interesting things to say, but I’m not as charismatic, cute, or soulful as some of my compatriots.

The publishing world is increasingly crowded with writers and beset with increasingly skimpy budgets. Like all industries it is being asked to do more with less. The result is fewer and shorter book tours and more do-it-yourself Internet publicity. The romantic view many readers have of the writing trade is betrayed by stingy 21^st Century realities.

It’s an odd world. Most readings are hosted by independent bookstores struggling to survive, but some attendees will listen politely and then buy at a discount store or website instead. Amazon, Barnes&Noble.com, and their electronic ilk have replaced the face-to-face reading with the electronic customer review and references to author pages. Traditional newspaper reviewing has shrunken dramatically, while websites devoted to books have exploded. E books are replacing traditional bookstore stacks. Borders has gone bankrupt.

My HarperCollins publicist, the sweet and supportive Heather Drucker, works valiantly to get print reviews, website attention, radio interviews, social media outlets, and anything else we can think of to generate attention. Her job is a hard one. While she slaved in New York, I was fortunate to enjoy a week in San Francisco and Portland on Harpers’ dime without the relentless grind the biggest tours for the biggest authors can become.

Critical, and outside of an author’s control, is printing numbers and store display. If it were up to me I’d have a million copies made of anything I write (even if most wound up recycled) simply to get the dang thing on as many store shelves as possible.

It doesn’t work that way, and with rare exceptions a book’s fate is to a degree a self-fulfilling prophecy, its push by the publisher and an author’s sales record dictating preliminary orders and display. That’s one reason why Stephen King has been on bestseller lists for nearly 40 years; it’s hard to displace the big names. (He’s also a hell of a storyteller, of course.)

So I have extremely modest fame, limited fortune, no groupies, and a distinct lack of paparazzi. On the other hand, the Internet has allowed me to hear from hundreds of fans in a way not possible before, and readers can click instead of drive to learn about my books.

In truth, writing is still one of the best jobs in the world. And books hang around. For a former journalist used to perishable news, it’s great to hear from folks discovering not just your newest work, but books written ten and twenty years before.

And meeting you? That’s magic.

See “Readings” on my website for a list of where I’ll be next.