What's Up With This Work Thing? (Plus: Stiletto's: Part III)

I started work at 8:30 this morning and here it is 8:49 at night and I'm just now closing down all systems.  What's up with that?  I entered this freelance gig to avoid that whole "working" thing.  No one ever mentioned 12 hour days were part of the plan.  (Although--tee hee--I never thought to ask.)

All in all, a good day.  I hit the road for my auto dealer interviews for our local paper.  They'll feature one employee from a different auto dealership each week in a sort of "behind the scenes" profile look.  I mentioned over the phone to every dealer I spoke with that it really would serve them best to not just go with their salespeople for the profile (the most obvious choice), but instead, mix it up a bit.  Have me interview someone from the finance department or a stellar mechanic from service. 

I still spent  most of the day interviewing salesmen.  This assignment is going to tax my ability to find new and creative ways of writing, "He took the job because he really enjoys working with people."

Still, I had fun.  The people were nice and I spent the day surrounded by new car smell. 

The one downside is my horrible ineptitude with the camera.  I seem to have a block in this area.  I met with the newspaper's photographer on one of my assignments today and she was wonderful with the tips she supplied.  Still, even I was aghast at the horrendous photos I took after she left.  I don't know when, but I have GOT to find the time to practice some photo taking.  Not at all what I feel like doing but they're only going to allow me to turn in the lowest of mediocre shots for so long. 

STILETTO UPDATE: Wore a new suit today, very professional looking.  The stilettos finish it off and add a great kick to it.  However, I didn't want a repeat of the teeter-tottering incident so instead of wearing the shoes, I carefully packed the box in the backseat, thinking I'd slide them on as need be.  Well, there never was a good time so the shoes spent a lovely day roaming the fair city of Greensboro in my car and taking in the sights.  Maybe next time I'll go so far as to drag the box around with me and open it to show people.  "These are my shoes," I'll say.  "Can't you just imagine how stunning they look with this outfit?"

This woman thing is way too hard.  We need a revolution.

Swamped!

The wind must have changed direction in the last 24 hours or something is up because I suddenly find myself swamped.

My auto assignments from the News & Record came in so I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon NOT making appointments as I'd planned, but rather leaving increasingly desperate voice mail messages for auto dealer managers to please, pretty please, call me back.

I have a big article due for a college magazine and have had trouble lining up a time to interview a primary source so that finally got scheduled for today (Saturday) at 10:30 am. 

The big thing though, is book promotion for Lessons In Stalking.  I have GOT to plan my launch party.  I'd like to have it at a bookstore but I may have waited so late in the game that I can't get in before X-Mas.  I'm going to tie it in with Hurricane Katrina animal relief and a local shelter, donating a portion of my proceeds.  I'm hoping I'll be allowed to bring in a few kittens from the shelter and have them at my authors table.  Not sure if a bookstore will got for that.  But it would be wonderful to find some homes for cats during my book launch.  (Or they could just come home with me!!!)

I'm kicking myself for a stupid, stupid, stupid mistake I made.  My friend Pam offered to stuff Lessons In Stalking postcards into a "grab bag" for publishers and book sellers at this Fall's SEBA (South Eastern Book Sellers) Association) convention.  So if you read the Kinko post, you know all about the hassle of getting the flyer done.  It ended up looking pretty good.  Until, I realized last night after Pam had already handed them out, I forgot to put the ISBN on the card as well as the name of my publishing company.  The effect of such an error is that my postcard will look extremely amateur.  Sort of like handing out a business card with no telephone number on it.  Just one great big DUH.

So I'm a little bummed about that but lesson learned and it will never happen again. 

The good news is that Pam said as they were stuffing bags a publisher came by and saw the LIS postcard and said, "This is so cute.  Can I have this?"  So I still hold out hope of thousands of orders coming in.  It would be stressful but in a good way if I went into my second printing only months after my first!

Dena

Publisher's Association of the South (PAS)

I attended a PAS conference yesterday in Winston-Salem (sans stilettos, for those of you concerned out there).  Learned a few interesting tidbits:

• Now with POD and other arenas, over 10,000 books a month are printed
• It usually only takes selling 8,000 books to have it considered a success.  When we hear about books selling 100,000 copies that doesn't take into account all the returned books. (If bookstores don't sell your books after a certain time period, they return them to the publisher and you have to give them back their money).
• Resale use is hitting authors and publishers deeper.  Resale is when you see a brand new book for sale on Amazon or E-Bay for 1/2 price.  There was also mention of an airport bookstore where a customer can pick up a book in one airport, fly to another airport, and return the book for a credit for his next purchase. The book is then sold at a discounted price to the next traveller.  Almost like a low-priced library system.  Great for readers, not so good for publishers.  Systems such as this are expected to cut into how many copies of a book are printed (which affect author advances).

There was also a discussion panel with independant bookstore owners, which was fascinating.  I came away with thinking the answer to everything is "it depends."  For example, one guy said the best way to reach a bookstore owner is to just call and talk about your book.  A woman on the panel said she refuses to answer the phone and prefers mail.  Both said avoid e-mail...they get so much they can't even begin to find the time to sort through it.

Other tips: Oddly shaped packages or small gifts included with the book help get their attention.  They can't stand authors who just sit behind their table with a cup of coffee - approach them with a plan or presentation for how you'll draw customers to your signing.  Don't send them huge posters with your book cover - they have nowhere to put it.  Small posters that fit in store windows are welcome, however.  Also, be available for book group discussions via phone.  Doesn't cost you the author anything and is a big treat for book club members who get to talk to an author.

What I found most heartening was the bookstore owners attitude.  "Remember," said one man on the panel, "those of us in the book store profession are there because we love books.  We're excited about new books.  We like to find and meet authors.  Take advantage of that."

I gave my card and a promo piece to each of the panelists and will send them my book when it comes in.  Now I just need to come up with a fun "presentation" type idea to do at a book signing.

Stilettos, Part II

All I can say is, no one was injured.  So that's a good thing.  Other than that, the first day trip out wearing the stilettos was not what I would call a smashing success.

I knew I wanted to wear my new spiky shoes last night to a Toastmasters supper club meeting where I was competing in an evaluation contest.  So on Tuesday, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, I strapped on the stilettos and proceeded to clump around the house. 

The cats ran for cover when the saw me coming.  THUNK, THUNK, THUNK... I thundered down the hall, knees bent for balance, heels wobbling like I was wearing ice-skates.  I called my friend Trisha while walking around the house.

"What is that horrible noise?" she asked over the phone. 

KA-CHUNK,  KA-CHUNK, KA-CHUNK.  "That's me, walking like a lady," I answer.

"You are in deep trouble," she said, laughing.

Still, I managed a few turns around the carpet and thought I was ready. 

I dressed carefully for last night's event.  I looked pretty good until I strapped on the heels.  Then I looked hot.  Two inches in height can really make a difference in your confidence level.

I didn't even try wearing the heels in the car, figuring I'd probably catch a spike in the gas pedal and mow down a tree.  So I waited until I reached the parking lot to slide my pretty pumps on.

I got out of my car and headed across the lot.  Horrible.  I had to take smaller, baby steps to keep my balance but even so, I'm pretty sure I was lurching forward at a 90 degree angle.  I met another woman in my TM group,  coming in, who was suffering from a slight limp.  I have never been so grateful.  I acted like I slowed my pace to match hers, all the while offering silent prayers of thanks that I had a reason to walk slow and carefully.

There was one point--and I'm laughing as I write this, remembering--where I was walking with a group of people toward the door.  We were walking slowly, talking, and then paused by a glass door.  I guess I leaned back a little too far because I swear to God, I almost lost my balance and fell backward.  It was like a Bugs Bunny moment as I teetered on the end of my heels, waiting to see which way I would fall.  Thankfully, there must have been a slight wind that pushed me back upright.

Here's the sad part.  I know if I had been an observer watching me, my thoughts would have been, "Poor girl.  Who is she trying to impress?"  But that is the magic--and danger--of the stiletto.  I know it's a stupid shoe...impractical, unsafe, and potentially dangerous to the health of my feet and spine.  But then I stand (unmoving, of course) in front of a mirror and admire how I look in them.  Hot.

Yea, I'll give them another go tomorrow.

(READ Part I Here: I'm A Woman Now)