And so it begins. (Lord of the Rings quote from The Two Towers in case you don't know.)
Yes, I'm beginning to get the calls . . . Will you do a book signing at Annual Conference? Can you sign books after you speak to our group? How about doing a book signing in June? Well . . . okay, since you insist.
But actually, I don't relish book signings. It's often one of the most depressing experiences a writer can have. Especially when no one shows up at the signing and the writer just sits behind the little desk peering over the top of a pile of books that no one will buy . . . not then, not ever. Oh, every now and again someone will amble over, perchance, and say something like: "So, you're a writer, huh?" or "Hey, the guy on this book looks like you!" or "Did you really write this?" or "How much did it cost you to get this printed?" or (my favorite) "Someday, when I have a free afternoon, or it's raining or something, I'm going to write a book."
God save me.
I even had a book signing one time when, after an hour of sitting by myself in a Borders, my wife ambled over, looking lost and lonely, pretending she didn't know me at all, and whispered as she whisked past, "Do you care if I buy some shoes at Target that are on sale?" I thought she was going to make me a better offer than that, but that's the way it goes, these signings. A writer can't even get a proposition from his wife. Just more shoes.
The more book signings I schedule, the more depressed I become. I'd like to believe I might meet an adoring public, but the truth is, there won't be any public at all.