|
||||||
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
|
|
||
|
||||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
Borders book signing 2005
|
||
|
 |
|
|
| London, November 24th 2005. You’ve seen the ads, no doubt...
Sounds like a simple book signing, no? Oh really? You think that’s air you’re breathing? 6pm, at the venue. Our contact there was Keanu Reeves, but he was working undercover and insisted on being called Vincent. He was also masquerading as a Frenchman, for reasons too complex to divulge, but let’s spare him the 'allo 'allo accent, and pretend he was born in Hertfordshire. “Ah, the Tozzers! Welcome… to the real world.”
The ground floor was packed, full of drunken school kids and rabid shopaholics. I could tell they wanted some of our Tozzer action. We were ready, we were able, and they were about to be putty in our hands. Vincent led me and Pete to the lift and smiled knowingly. “Busy tonight!” I said, with an excited chuckle. “Oh, yes,” he replied. “Although, the first floor’s not quite as packed.” “Ah.” “And to be honest, the second floor's pretty empty,” he continued. Then he turned to the buttons on the lift, raised his finger and tapped in 615.
The lift made a loud spluttering sound, the floor shook, and my stomach turned to jelly. After a few minutes, I began to feel light-headed, but at that point oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling, which Vincent encouraged us to wear (that's the masks, not the ceiling - you can't wear a ceiling. Well, maybe you could, but it's hardly practical). Anyway, we were handling the situation pretty well, all things considered, until the lift passed through the Earth's atmosphere and we realised we were in a zero-gravity environment. “Isn’t this fun?” laughed Vincent, as he moonwalked along the ceiling. I nodded weakly, my oxygen mask filling with vomit. Then ping, and we were there. The 615th floor. Luckily, Vincent had installed a simulated gravity device near our table, so we were able to set up our stuff without everything floating away.
“Face it, guys, no one’s gonna show,” said our chirpy man from Hertfordshire, “so you want to play with the jump program, instead? Learn kung fu? Fly a chopper?” We
politely declined, and waited for our customers. We were there for a
reason, dammit, and we weren’t about to disappoint our legion
of loyal fans. And, sure enough, they came. Slowly at first, just dribs
and drabs, but then there were drabs and dribs, then back to dribs and
drabs again. One time we had a double drib, which was cause for celebration.
We stayed a couple of hours, and sold enough books to kill a small stag. Ok, a small stag beetle maybe, and even then you’d have to drop the books from the top of the Borders Tower, onto the most vulnerable part of the insect’s head. To be honest, you’d want to make sure it was already feeling poorly. And get an old one. You might want to poison it first, just to be on the safe side. Hell, who am I kidding, have you seen how tough those little bastards are?
Thanks to everyone at Borders, especially Vincent, for working with us on the event, and a big thank you to the select few peeps who dared to come along. We had a good time, and it was great to hook up with our friends and family - I mean, our legion of loyal fans.
This was our first book signing, so there’s stuff we can learn from the experience. Like – avoid Christmas, or you’ll just get pushed aside by the big promotional campaigns. And plan things further in advance, allowing plenty of time for your hype machine to make an impact. Also, getting together with one or more other publishers, and putting on a talk/panel, is probably the way to go. Till the next time... Rob
|
 |
|
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
