I attended a local book fair on Saturday. Here’s a photo of me and my paperbacks:
The weather wasn’t great – typical Welsh autumnal downpours interspersed with all-too-brief snatches of dazzling sunshine. The event wasn’t the subject of saturation advertising (that’s putting it kindly) and there was no sign of the bestselling authors who were slated to appear. The fair was held in a decent venue, but slightly off the beaten track so you had to know about it to be there.
Hardly surprising, then, that not many punters showed up. Those that did served as a stark reminder to me of why 99.99% of my book sales take place online. I’m about as good a salesman as, say, Trump is a diplomat or as Kim Kardashian is the shy, retiring type.
Still, it was nice to see some old friends and to make a couple of new ones. And I had a new profile picture taken:
Not a complete waste of a morning, then. But I shan’t be knocking down anyone’s door to attend many more such events. Being so completely useless in person at selling myself or my books, my time would be more profitably spent in writing the next book.
As for that, watch this space…