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The Travails of an Unknown Author (September 20, 2006) 
One of my favorite scenes in the film
The Snows of Kilimanjaro
has Gregory Peck (Harry Street) dashing in with the exciting news that his novel has sold--and
the proceeds, Dearie, will pay all our expenses to Africa.
In the real world--more like the overdue utility bill. Yes, some books sell 4 million copies or something, but for most of us unknown authors, the sales are a few hundred at best. The answer, we're told, is to load the trunk of our car with books and hit the road, stopping at every bookstore and/or college campus to hawk our product, much like the snake-oil salesman of old. (Or "Juice of the cactii," take your pick.) Alas, not all of us have the iron (or is it titanium?) disposition needed to sell snake-oil or novels from the back of a beaten-down Impala with no rear shocks (books weigh a lot). And there is no guarantee that anyone will show up for your reading or book signing, either. My own experience was this: five people showed, plus the owners' two dogs (sleeping under the desk). Several of the human attendees were friends of the owners, and though we sold five books, I suspect pity for the poor wretched author was the primary motivation. Let's face it --even I wouldn't show up for my own reading. People understandably want celebrity and glamour at book readings, and (see photo above left) they're not gonna get either at my readings. And so the unknown author is straddled on the horns of an uncomfortable dilemma--how do you become well-known enough that folks want to show up for your readings? Doing readings to empty chairs is not the answer. My publisher suggested aligning myself romantically with Paris Hilton or Jennifer Lopez. Great idea, but if I could swing that, I wouldn't need to sell any copies of the book--I could just collect the loose money in their sofa cushions and retire in style. In other words, one might as well hope that Steven Spielberg happens upon one's forlornly unknown novel and snaps up the film rights for a cool half-million. In other words--dream on, Baby! The math is not promising. Five thousand new novels published every year, thousands of PR people shoving out reams of promo material to every bookstore and newspaper editor in the nation, and the 5,000 Harry Streets all hoping for love, cash and redemption from the sale of their precious novel. It's a shopworn premise, starving unknown strikes it big, but it happens just often enough to inspire the 100,000 novelists who get whittled down to 5,000 a year. I speak as one, and I concur with my publisher, a wise old author of many books, when he told me, "It's God's will, or destiny, call it what you want." In other words, sorta like the lottery or striking it rich in the stock market. If this made you smile, so will the book. If you feel some amusement, or generosity, or some stray emotion which loosens your purse strings, then by all means buy my novel I-State Lines from The Kaleidoscope or from Amazon.com  .
(Please click on the amazon link to read an insightful/informative review of the book.)
Or don't. But if you have Spielberg's private office number....
For more on this subject and a wide array of other topics, please visit my weblog. 
copyright © 2006 Charles Hugh Smith. All rights reserved in all media. I would be honored if you linked this wEssay to your site, or printed a copy for your own use.
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