Authors’ Fair –gains and losses

by Pat Laster

 

                A writer/friend sort of pooh-poohed those at signings who decorated their tables and themselves to match the color of their book covers. Yet, because a writers’ newsletter recently suggested doing just that, that’s exactly what I did. Even to the coffee cup.

                This event was held at the Faulkner County Library in Conway last Saturday. I had asked the librarian to buy both a hardback and softback copy of my book. Instead of answering yea or nay, she invited me to an Authors’ Fair from one till five-- part of the larger arts-doings in the town.

                I gathered things in all shades of blue to match the vibrant patterned cloth I’d had for ages, even a candy dish and colored Hershey’s kisses that included blue ones. Of the 18 authors, three of us had decorative cloths, two of us had candies, one of us had a video going all four hours and one had a replica of a skull for her book subtitled A Zombie’s Memoir.

                We were arranged in two sides of a wide space at the back of the library; a hall intersected leading farther down into the room where computer stations were installed. The librarian-in-charge changed her mind and instead of arranging us from front to back in the order we accepted—which would but me near the back—she decided to put all the college/ university people on one side and “the real world” folks on the other.

                Colleague Freeda and I were the first tables one could see coming down the long hall from the entrance of the library. Our names were pinned on the front of the black cloth provided, and book-cover posters on easels stood on our tables.

                John had an elegant and complete display for his $45, very-detailed book on the USS Independence. He wore a T-shirt with the information.

                Will was hawking his In Yankee Doodle’s Pocket: The Myth, Magic and Politics of Money in Early America.

                Linda and Adrienne and their children were selling various books self-published by CreateSpace “for free.” Except that they had to pay “a little bit” for each copy they bought.

                Carroll, next to us, had several books for sale, plus information about his publishing company.

                Except for a Mr. Colclasure, that included the “real world” people.

                Across the wall-less hall were UCA and Hendrix folks--one originally from England, one from Minnesota, and one from Hot Springs. Sherry and I traded hardback copies of our books, and I bought one of Mark’s poetry volumes for $5.

                Mark had promised his creative-writing students extra credit if they showed up, and several of them did. Professor and students fist-bumped when the latter arrived.

                Poor publicity was cited by the few folks who happened to make it down the length of the huge room. Our loss. And theirs.

                The gains were learning new folks, networking among ourselves, hearing their stories, and being seen. Perhaps a seed for a future purchase was planted when the few who came by, stopped, looked at back covers, took bookmarks and cards then moved on.

                Not much money changed hands; I gave two books to the library since she didn’t answer my request for a purchase. In return, she must provide me with a tax-deductible form. “Remind me,” she said. I certainly will.

Believe it or not, the four hours passed quickly. I would do it again, but I was glad to get home.

c 2012 by Pat Laster dba lovepat press