Bretts in Scale
In case you were wondering how big little Cassandra is getting:
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London Day 7: My First Public Signing
The big day had finally arrived! My first scheduled signings. I was both excited and a little nervous. What if no one came? Ugh. Pressure.
We started the day by heading back to the flagship Waterstones in
One interesting thing I would like to note here. I must have gone to 15 bookstores while I was in London to sign shelf stock. Out of that 15, none of them asked me to actually prove who I was before letting me pull a pen from my pocket and start writing in their stock. Not one. What if I was just some nutter running around pretending I was an author? No one cared. I guess it’s a low security area.
After Waterstones, I was starting to get a little nervous about the big signings, so Ensign Cole and I headed over to the Salisbury Pub around the corner from Goldsboro Books on Cecil Court for a glass of courage. There are few fears a double scotch on the rocks can’t dull.
We got to Goldsboro, and were greeted warmly by David, the proprietor. He recognized me right away, though we had never met, and ushered us inside, where we encountered a rather daunting pile of books:
Goldsboro is a shop that specializes in signed first edition books. Frequently, they will work with publishers to create specially rare versions of books. In the case of The Painted Man, they took the 6 character avatar icons I had drawnfor the manuscript and made them into stamps. The avatars were cut from the UK first edition hardback & trade paperback for space, but will appear in the US version, and may appear in other UK versions. These 6 images were stamped onto 25 books each, and sold online for the last few months as signed and numbered editions.
Believe it or not, they sold out! In order to fulfill continuing demand, Goldsboro had to order another 100 copies, and they are almost sold out of those as well!
What did that mean for me? Well, it was awesome to hear that I had sold 250 books, but what it really meant was that I had to sign, number, and date 250 books. It was a daunting task, but Dave and his partner Daniel were practiced hands, and set up an efficient assembly line to aid me as I worked.
I was done in an hour, and had plenty of time to get to The Forbidden Planet for the public signing. I even took a moment to look erudite and reflective outside the store.
We then met Jon, the Forbidden Planet manager, who was a really nice guyt. The first thing he did, though, was stick me in an office and have me sign their internet sale stock, as well. Almost 25 copies had been pre-ordered and were waiting for me to sign:
And that wasn’t even counting the ones out in the store for the actual signing:
I had a pretty sweet space to sign from. The table had a lot of history to it, covered in the signatures of past guests. I was honored to add my own scribbling to the testament.
I admit I was pretty nervous about the signing. I am generally an introverted person, more accustomed to sitting alone in my office typing than to receiving lines and small talk. I’m used to being the wallflower at the party, not the spectacle in the room. I was afraid I would say or do something stupid, or that no one would show up, or something. I don’t know what. It just seemed like a bizarre parallel universe where people would go out of their way to meet me and have me sign something for them.
Turns out I was worried about nothing. There was a decent crowd lined up for the signing, and I was so genuinely stoked to have my book on the shelves and people buying it that I think my grin took in my ears. I couldn’t have been happier to sign anything anyone put in front of me and was genuinely glad for the opportunity to meet everyone and thank them for supporting the book.
The very best were the people who had already read an advance read copy, and who still wanted to shell out thirteen quid on a hardback for me to sign. Dave-Brendon had his friend Liz go to the signing for him and send his copy all the way to South Africa. Two more people said they had read the advance versions of the book and wanted to meet me and thank me for writing something they enjoyed so much.
Then these two very pretty blonde girls come up. I’m not stoned in this picture; I swear:
“Hi, thanks for coming!” I say. “Should I make this out to anyone?”
“Could you make it out to Chantal?” one of them asks.
“Sure,” I say, but I pause. “Your name is very familiar…” I begin.
“Oh, I got an advance copy of the book on Amazon Vine she said, and I wrote one of the first reviews. I gave it five stars!”
“Did you really?” I asked, thrilled.”Fantastic! Thanks so much for doing that!”
“I also did this silly thing on YouTube about the book,” she said. I almost ran my pen off the side of the book as I paused in my signing.
“You did the YouTube thing?!” I demanded.
“Yes…” she looked nervous.
“My publishers went apeshot over that!” I said. “Shit, so did I! You rock!” I held up the book I had just finished signing. “Did you pay for this yet?” I asked.
“Not yet, I just took it off the desk,” she said.
“Well you’re not going to,” I said. “Your money’s no good here. That video probably sold more books than this signing, and you are awesome for making it.” I signalled Ensign Cole and asked him to see to it that her book was paid for. Come to think of it, I still owe him thirteen quid for that.
Of course, I signed one for me blessed mum, who couldn’t make it to the signing, but insisted on having Myke BUY her a copy for me to sign, rather than letting me give her a free one. Thanks for keeping my Bookscan numbers up, mom!
All in all, things turned out pretty amazing. Including the pre-orders, the signing helped generate about 60 sales (some people bought multiple copies), and I signed quite a few more copies for the FP shelves and for their affilliate stores. It was a great first experience, and I appreciate all the Forbidden Planet did to make it happen.
After the signing, we went to a bar down the road (whose name escapes me; apologies to the fine institution, but that’s what they get for getting me so drunk: No shout-out.). The bar had a mixed drink on their menu which consisted of pineapple juice used to disguise about 30 kinds of rum and liquor. We might not have given it a second thought, but for the name: Demon Cleaner.
We bought two pitchers, and it was downhill from there.
My editor, Emma, and the Harper Collins publicist, Alice, came out to the bar. Alice soon plead boyfriend and left early. Emma tried to do the same, but we all did that thing where you keep convincing someone to have just one more until they are well and truly planted. I’m so glad it worked. More than anything else on this trip, I had wanted to get drunk and bond with Emma. She has been a rock of support and enthusiasm from the very beginning of my professional career, and I knew from our phone conversations that she was an awesome person, to boot. The kind of person you want to share a beer (or ten) with. We spoke in fluent nerd the whole time. Half the table was looking at us as if we were speaking another language, and the other half felt like they had found a lost tribe.
We stumbled out aroud 11:30 and headed back to Camden Town, where we closed the night with a few Guinness at the Crown and Goose with two hot Czech ladies, Pavlina and Martina. Did I mention The Painted Man will be coming out in Czech?
I stumbled back to the hotel around 3. It was a good night.
Max’s Backflip
Still reeling from the sudden death of Max Powers. It’s funny how you make all sorts of subtle changes in your life to accommodate your pets without even noticing you’re doing it until they’re gone. Suddenly I don’t have to check under the bed every time I leave the house to be sure I’m not locking MP in the library, and I don’t have his “feed me” serenades at 5am and pm every day.
Anyway, as a tribute to MP, here’s my favorite mini-video of him. The backflip at the end is awesome:
London Day 6: Eurostar to Paris
On Wednesday I got up at 5am to catch the 6:55 Eurostar to Paris. The train leaves from St. Pancras Station in London, which Wenk told me was an easy walk from Camden Town. I took a quick shower and stumbled out into the darkness to find Ensign Cole and Wenk on the corner. It was about 2 miles to the station, which may seem a long way, especially at 5:30am, but after all the walking we had done in the last few days, it seemed a brisk jaunt. We checked our passports, cleared security, and were on our way.
The Eurostar is an amazing train. Traveling at approximately 186 MPH (300km/h), it can cover the distance from London to Paris in 2 hours twenty minutes. It passes underneath the English Channel for over 31 miles, which might be a bit uncomfortable, save for the fact that at 186 MPH, that underwater tunnel time takes only ten minutes.
I slept through it on the way out, anyway.
Got a decent look at the French countryside whizzing by, and reached Paris by 10:19 Paris time. We were met at the Paris Nord terminal by Stephane Marsan, the owner of Bragelonne, the French-language publisher which will be translating and printing The Painted Man in France next year. Bragelonne was the first non-English language company to buy translation rights, and is a pioneer in France, bringing SF publishing to a market that many said had no interest in such childish pursuits. Despite the derision of more erudite publishers, Stephane has managed to build Bragelonne into a force to be reckoned with in the last few years, currently the largest SF publisher in France, and one the other publishers are scrambling desperately to find a way to compete with. It is a great honor to be working with them.
It was also a great honor that Stephane took most of the day off to walk us around Paris and show us the sights. He took us around the Latin Quarter and along the Seine, telling us the history behind various neighborhoods and landmarks while also discussing, in great detail, the state of SF publishing in France. It was extremely educational on many levels, and left me very impressed with Stephane, and more confident than ever that I was in good hands.
We stopped by Notre Dame, of course, but without anything to give scale to it’s grandeur, I knew it was time for another shot with my trusty American quarter:
After our walk, we met at a fancy restaurant with Isabelle, my French editor, and Leslie, Bragelonne’s publicist. I was terrified of using my horrible high school French, but of course, everyone spoke english, saving me the embarrassment. I’m sure none of them wanted to hear me butcher their beautiful language.
Over some vin rouge, agneau, and canard, we got to know each other, and then began to discuss The Painted Man. I had known, of course, that Stephane himself had read and loved the book, because he included an amazing letter with his offer, but I was still overwhelmed at the passion with which he spoke of the book. He had brought the manuscript away to the country with him on a long weekend vacation, and by the time the weekend was over, had convinced two others (including Isabella) to read it, and all of them spent the drive back to Paris talking about the story and characters “like kids”, as he put it. He said it was amazing because it was both innovative and at the same time commercial, a very difficult formula to get right.
It was an incredible compliment to have someone so rooted and successful in the field say such great things about the book. Hopefully my blushing and stutters were attributed to the wine.
We went back for a tour of the Bragelonne offices, and I wondered again why I had spent so much of my life in pharmeceutical publishing. Even if the money was better in pharma, how could it compare to working in a place like that, surrounded by all the things I love? Every desk was cluttered with action figures and toys, and stacks of fantasy and role-playing books were everywhere. Original pieces of cover art hung on the walls, and you could feel in the air that everyone had a passion for what they were doing. Sure, there was still hard work involved, but hard work isn’t so bad when you love your job. One man in the office had to be FORCED to take vacation (it’s the law in France), because he didn’t want to leave his job.
After the tour, Stephane asked me to do a brief interview for their website with Manu, one of their webmasters. You can see us below with Kevin Sorbo looking on.
After the interview and a few pictures, Stephane gave us a map and traced a senic route from his offices on Rue de la Bienfaisance to the Louvre before setting us free in Paris.
Not long after we left, I had a sudden feeling of illness, but it passed through me quickly.
We made our way past the Paris Opera, stopping for a quick picture. If you look REALLY close, you can see Myke holding up a quarter in front of it:
At last, we found the Louvre, and proceeded to walk out feet off for several hours, still seeing not a fraction of the immense museum.
We hiked several miles back up to the Paris Nord station, and hopped the Eurostar back. Due to the emptiness of the later train, we managed to get first class seats, and enjoyed spacious seating with tables, hot towels, copious wine, and a delicious meal. The trip flew by, and we were back in London by 11pm.
We walked back from the station, making our way through 78 yards of humps to do so.
Of course, we hit a pub and had a few Guinness before calling it a night and going back to the hotel. It was a big relief to be back safe and sound after such a successful trip, but of course, me being who I am, I immediately started stressing about Thursday, which was signing day!
London Day 5 Addendum: Amazon Interview
How did I forget to mention the interview? Ugh. My brain is rotting.
After we stumbled back from Charing Cross, I had time for a quick shower and a bout of nerves. Alice, the young and alluring publicist from Harper Collins, was coming over to my hotel room with a camera crew to film a video interview for Amazon.co.uk. I’d managed to put off thinking about it all day, but after I got back to my room, the anxiety hit. They had sent me the questions in advance, but as a writer, I am used to having all the time I need to craft answers to questions to my liking, trimming out unnecessary rambling and things that sound downright stupid. There are no such luxuries in front of a camera and audience.
Plus, what if my hair looked bad?
Dani sent me a bottle of champagne from room service on my first day in London, and this seemed as good a time as any to pop the cork and have a glass of courage. Ensign Cole and webmaster Wenk came over, and we polished off most of the bottle before the Harper team arrived.
The team consisted of Peter, the cameraman, who also works for the BBC, publicist Alice, and the lovely Keira, who assisted in setup and did the actual interview. I confessed to some nerves, but they did a good job of calming me down, telling me we had all the time we needed, and that no one expects writers to be comfortable in front of a camera. I also wouldn’t have to look right in the camera; Keira would ask the questions, and though her parts would be edited out of the final interview, I could look at her as I responded.
Because talking to beautiful women doesn’t make me nervous at all…
But for all that, I think the interview went pretty well. Keira asked a variety of questions regarding my writing process, inspirations, the themes I was addressing in the book, and my plans for the sequel. Despite my fears, I can’t think of any time when I said anything stupid, and there were a few moments when I think I sounded downright smart. We did most of the questions in one take, and when we needed a second, it was usually because Pete said, “Okay, say what you just said, but make it a little shorter.”
They shot about 25-30 minutes of footage, and the final interview is set to be edited down to 4 minutes, so I expect I will come off pretty well in it (so long as my hair looks okay). When the interview is done, it will be available on the amazon page for The Painted Man, and on the Harper Collins website. It will be an open source interview, which means I will also be able to post it as a YouTube link here on the Peephole, and my international publishers will be able to use it, as well.
Still, it was very weird having people want to film me and listen to what I have to say. A lifetime huddled in my room reading comics and fantasy novels did not prepare me well for that.