With apologies to Judith Viorst for the headline, even though I put on a happy face, being an indie author isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be.
Don’t get me wrong – some days it is amazing. I am continually gobsmacked that people want to read the stories I make up in my head and when they invite me to speak at book clubs or want to take photos together with one of my books, I’m on cloud nine and couldn’t be more grateful.
But it’s also a tough slog sometimes. I haven’t cracked the Amazon code yet, so my online sale stats are, ehem, not worth talking about. Most of my sales come from book and craft fairs, and the occasional book club – all of which I usually love doing.
But there was this one weekend recently where it all went to hell. Now, some of it is my fault. This is the first spring/summer that I’m fully retired from my old totally consuming day job, and I overestimated how many events I can do and not feel exhausted (note to self – not every weekend and NOT two in a single weekend). I was already tired, having done two the week before – one of which required move-in and move-out during an all day driving rain. I did ask my husband if he couldn’t have a word with the Good Man above, but apparently I’m supposed to save those asks for slightly more important things!
Fortunately, on this particular weekend, Saturday started with glorious weather. The venue was easy to get to, if a little far from where I live. I’d worked with this organizer before and generally done well at her events. This year, on this day, at this place though, nobody came. In five hours, I sold one book. Gulp.
It was a bit of a relief to discover it wasn’t just me. Because there was lots of time to talk to each other (we generously call it networking!), I quickly realized that we were mostly in the same boat. And it is true that not every book is for everybody. Only a certain percentage of people who walk through the door will be interested in contemporary fiction and only a percentage of those will find my books interesting enough to buy
Fast forward to the next day – where the drive was equally long, in the other direction. A new market for me, with a new organizer. But you have to take chances. When I got there, repeat vendors were excited, anticipating the large crowds they’d experienced last time. This had me feeling optimistic. But again, it didn’t materialize. Even the organizer was stumped. I did sell more books – four to be exact – but a five book double-event weekend was not on my bingo card.
On the way up to our house on the lake, a little depressed, I stopped at a convenience store for pick me up snacks (for me it’s Diet Coke and Crunchy Cheetos – gross I know, but it keeps me away from red wine and chocolate!). I spent the drive thinking about the path forward. I won’t write off these two events just yet – the organizers can’t promise crowds and both were likely one-offs. But I am glad to be taking a breather for most of July (I have one outdoor event that promises to be good on July 26), to recharge and get ready for a busy fall.
So, a long sob story, but also a gentle reminder that indie authors and craftspeople rely on events to sell their wares. If you have one on your calendar that your’re considering, please try to make a point of going and supporting your local creatives.
You’ll make their day.
