Slow day at the sci-fi convention. 10am to 6pm, sold three books. Other sellers are making about the same rate of sales.
Good point – well, besides those few sales, watching a guy manning a booth across from me read Early ReTyrement all day. Every now and then he’d laugh out loud, or call over to tell me what Mason was up to. This helped to get through the thanklessness of convention doldrums.
Had a fan I didn’t even know stop by and tell me how much he liked it. Worth more than money.
Also, got some leads on some over conventions. Tempted. I might even try to get Wenamon ready in time for them.
Still, nobody told me there would be days like this in writing. According to the movies, I’d live in New York and have a weekly lunch with my agent, who would tell me how hot my sales were and then offer me advice on getting out more, of meeting someone. “Look, we’re having a party this Friday. Stop by. Mingle.” At least, that’s according to movies.
And here’s a new one – a guy who goes to conventions (older guy) and tells the writers he’s a reviewer and is very interested in ones work. Reviews never follow – just a lot off wind. Had the writers on both side of me warn me about this schmuck. But he’d already scored a free book off me at the UCF Bookfest. Just great – bag free copies from struggling authors. What’s next? Stealing money out of a beggar’s cup?
Tomorrow, 10-2. Let’s hope everyone is holding back to buy things on the final day.