There and back again. A Capclave Adventure.
A week or so ago I attended my local SF Convention, Capclave. And this year I was lucky enough to be on programming and get both a reading slot and a signing slot for my novels. I normally go to this convention each year and sit in the Dealer's Room and try to pretend I'm the sociable kind of person you'd want to buy SF and Fantasy books from. But I'm not really the outgoing type and when large numbers of people gather my flight or fight switch is firmly welded in the flight setting which makes dealing with potential customers somewhat nerve-wracking. Over the years I've just learned to pull a sociable mask over my face and pretend really hard that I don't know I'm faking it.
Given that pre-disposition, the prospect of hawking my books to the general public did not fill me with a warm happy glow. However, the existing market for a new, independent author is pretty much an empty room. You have to be willing to put yourself out there if you want anything more than a nice author copy on your bookcase.
My reading was at 9:30pm on Friday. There was no way to know how many, if any, people would show up. I've gone to signings at the local bookstore (pre-covid when books store signings were a thing) and seen professionally published authors sitting behind the table being utterly ignored. But I lucked out and got one interested listener. She listened well, didn't fall asleep, didn't play with her phone, and laughed at most of the silly bits. I consider the event to have been a glorious victory.
And the signing went even better. Yes, I had two people who showed up for that. And I was up against one of the Guest of Honor readings.
Not exactly a smashing success that will guarantee my elevation to the Nobel Prize but, being a new, independent author, it sometimes feels like I'm calling out to a void. There are 7.8 billion people on Earth, and barely a hundred know that I exist. That's the hard nut that all new authors need to crack. And if I don't? I still had fun writing about Hyperion and his human cohorts. I never expected legions of cheering fans (although I am willing to accept them), but having even a few people turn out to tell me they enjoyed my books made the whole weekend very much worthwhile.
Given that pre-disposition, the prospect of hawking my books to the general public did not fill me with a warm happy glow. However, the existing market for a new, independent author is pretty much an empty room. You have to be willing to put yourself out there if you want anything more than a nice author copy on your bookcase.
My reading was at 9:30pm on Friday. There was no way to know how many, if any, people would show up. I've gone to signings at the local bookstore (pre-covid when books store signings were a thing) and seen professionally published authors sitting behind the table being utterly ignored. But I lucked out and got one interested listener. She listened well, didn't fall asleep, didn't play with her phone, and laughed at most of the silly bits. I consider the event to have been a glorious victory.
And the signing went even better. Yes, I had two people who showed up for that. And I was up against one of the Guest of Honor readings.
Not exactly a smashing success that will guarantee my elevation to the Nobel Prize but, being a new, independent author, it sometimes feels like I'm calling out to a void. There are 7.8 billion people on Earth, and barely a hundred know that I exist. That's the hard nut that all new authors need to crack. And if I don't? I still had fun writing about Hyperion and his human cohorts. I never expected legions of cheering fans (although I am willing to accept them), but having even a few people turn out to tell me they enjoyed my books made the whole weekend very much worthwhile.
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All new authors need to remember it is a slow growth process. You're on a road that just goes forward.