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When San Francisco's Kirk Read got his
coming-of-age memoir, "How I Learned to Snap,"
published by Hill Street Press, an independent
house in Athens, Ga., he understood that publishing
it was all they could afford to do. "I told them,
just send me 200 books and I'll sell them," Read
said. He drove to 100 tour dates in 40 cities --
everything from book group meetings to huge
university lectures. He made purple T-shirts and
buttons depicting a hand snapping and gave them out
at each stop.
"A lot of authors are better at thinking outside
the box than publishers because they live outside
the box," said Gerry Howard, head of Broadway
Books, a division of Random House. He offered as an
example Dave Pelzer, author of the best-selling
book "A Child Called 'It': One Child's Courage to
Survive."
"He's on a permanent campaign," Howard said. "He
travels the country in an evangelical way and sells
lots of books in the back of the auditorium."
Even cookbook authors must -- literally -- cook
up interest in their books. Joyce Goldstein of San
Francisco flew to Miami with six pounds of fresh
phyllo on her lap. The former owner of Square One
and author of 19 books, she cooked all morning,
making 300 "tastes" of bougatsa, a Greek phyllo
pastry filled with cheese custard -- and sold five
books. Soon she'll fly to Baltimore to attend a
conference at the invitation of the Potato Board.
She went to Copia in Napa to do "This Is Not Your
Mother's Seder."
"I have cornered a rather funny little niche as
the resident food Jew in the Bay Area," Goldstein
said. "You sell them one book at a time. Drip,
drip, drip.
"Bookstores? You might as well kill yourself,"
she said.
The imagination every author possesses goes to
good use in these grassroots marketing efforts.
When he isn't setting up readings at bookstores,
Holliday speaks at Rotary clubs, always making sure
they have his books there for sale afterward. In
March he spoke to the American Glaucoma Society.
"There are conventions and conferences in town all
the time, and they need some alternative to their
subjects," he says.
Linda Watanabe McFerrin of San Francisco, author
of the story collection "The Hand of Buddha,"
traveled to 25 states on an Amtrak pass for a
month. She taught workshops and stayed with
friends. Constance Hale ("Sin and Syntax: How to
Craft Wickedly Effective Prose") conducts writing
and grammar workshops in bookstores and at Media
Alliance, the Learning Annex and UC Extensions up
and down the state.
"My publisher did next to nothing," she said,
"but each time I teach a class there's a little
notice in some catalog or mailer about my book."
Laurie Wagner, author of "Living Happily Ever
After," said that an aunt threw huge book parties
for her in Los Angeles. "At the first event I sold
160 books to family and friends. The next event I
sold 120. And the events generate word of mouth."
The downside of all of this is the time taken
away from what writers do best: write. The
financial realities can be daunting, too. Most
authors make $2 to $3 on a hardcover sale. An
out-of-town reading might cost $300, even if you
stay with friends. An author has to sell 100 books
to break even, and bookstores rarely order that
many copies.
Yet do-it-yourself promotion pays off, if not in
huge sales then at least in keeping a good book in
print long enough to find its readers. Joyce
Goldstein says her editor knows how hard she works
to sell the books and will keep that in mind next
time he's considering publishing her. Kirk Read
promoted his hardback so vigorously that the
paperback was bought by Penguin. Holliday gets
books from the publisher at a 40 percent discount,
so when he sells them himself he not only makes a
few dollars, but, more importantly, helps them stay
in print.
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