Book signings: The good, the bad, & the awkward (but mostly good)
Writing life: 76
A time-honoured ritual
I don’t think anyone really knows when the first book signing was organized. I doubt the unsung transcribers of the Gutenberg Bible—arguably the first “printed” book for mass audiences—ever gathered at a writers’ festival in the town square to affix their signatures to its cover page. But book signings and the resulting signed copies of books have been fixtures in the publishing world now for well over a century.
For the literary giants, a first edition with a bona fide, authenticated signature is worth multiples of what the unsigned version would fetch.
Signing books for readers is an important and longstanding feature of the writing life. I have now given more than 1,100 book talks since 2008 when my first novel was published. I probably signed books at nearly all of those events, sometimes just a few, sometimes many. So logic suggests that I’ve signed thousands of books in those 16 or so years.
But what to say?
One of the challenges of book signings is coming up with pithy and witty phrases to use in the inscription. Ideally, I have two or three different lines that I can use for each of my novels. (When a reader buys four copies of your book at an event, you don’t want to use the same line in all of them.)
For instance, my “go to” inscription when signing copies of The Best Laid Plans is: Here’s to the end of “politics as usual.”
Or for Up and Down, my standard is: Here’s to more Ups than Downs.
Or for Albatross: Here’s to knowing the difference between success and happiness.
The point is to come up with a line that directly connects to the story and/or characters, even if the reader will only understand its significance—or, at the very least, relevance—when they’ve finished reading the novel.
Let’s take a look at a few different book signing scenarios.
Bookstore signings
There are at least two kinds of bookstore signings. Firstly, there’s the awkward exercise of sitting for two or three hours at a table in the middle of a bookstore as harried and hurried customers stream around your table desperately trying not to make eye contact.
My pal and fellow writer Rod Carley is a pro at these and has figured out how to make them work, but the few times I’ve done them early in my writing life, I just remember sitting there shyly and watching the clock. I well recall my first book signing back in 2008 at the big Chapters store that used to be just down the street from Parliament Hill in Ottawa (see photo below). After spending the first hour twiddling my thumbs and not selling and signing any books, I remember politely asking the manager how they’d promoted the event. He pointed to a single 8.5” x 11” poster stuck on the store’s bulletin board. I waited for him to tell me about the other elements in the marketing effort, but as it turned out, there was just the poster (you can see a copy of it on the table in the photo below). That may explain why I sold three or four copies in three hours, almost certainly to customers who took pity on me as I sat forlornly hawking my debut novel.
But take heart, there is a more practical bookstore signing model that I’ve followed for nearly all of my novels since my first. It involves making stops at multiple bookstores in a certain area or region simply to sign their stock. For instance, on my western tour in the fall of 2023 to support the launch of A New Season, my publicist arranged for me to hit up four Victoria area bookstores one morning and it all worked very well, my mild writer’s cramp aside.
I’ve also signed books in the Penguin Random House warehouse before they’re shipped to bookstores. Now that’s efficiency!
Writers’ festival signings
Book signings are an important part of almost all writers’ festivals. There is usually a separate area in the festival venue so that when writers are finished their events, they can just sit down at the signing table, pull out their pens, and do what comes naturally. Below you’ll see what I mean in the photos of good friend Linwood Barclay and me after an event we did together at Calgary’s Wordfest in 2023. If you know Linwood, you’ll understand why we had a lot of fun that evening. (You can read more about my time at Wordfest by clicking here or on the image below.)
Quite often at festivals, events feature more than one writer. I well remember many years ago doing an event at the Headwaters Arts Festival in Caledon, Ontario, where I shared the stage with Joseph Boyden when he was nearing the peak of his literary fame. I was thrilled to meet him and he was as lovely as a rockstar writer could be to a rookie scribe that evening. After the event, we sat next to each other at the signing table. I was finished inscribing my books in about ten minutes while the line-up in front of Joseph, as you might expect, spilled out into the hallway.
I’ve written about Paul Quarrington before here, but just thought I’d mention him again. We both spoke at the Grimsby Authors Series back in 2009, and we sat next to one another afterwards as you can see below. I loved Paul’s novels and had first editions of every one of them. When I learned we were to be driven together to the event in Grimsby, Ontario, I brought all my Quarrington first editions in my backpack. On the drive home, he kindly signed them for me by the glow of the dome light. (You can read more about that encounter and the sad postscript to it, by clicking here or on the image below.)
Special event signings
I’m fortunate enough to attend and speak at various special events where books may not even be the central focus of the evening. One example would be the annual fundraiser in support of the Pelee Island Bird Observatory, an internationally recognized NGO devoted to the study and observation of migratory birds and the preservation of their natural habitats on Pelee Island in southwestern Ontario. Margaret Atwood and her late husband Graeme Gibson cofounded the organization in 2003. Back in 2016, Margaret Atwood asked if I would speak at their annual fundraiser in Windsor, Ontario. As you can imagine, I said “yes” before she’d completed her sentence. It was not a book event per se, but there was a book signing after the dinner and my talk. What a thrill it was to sit next to Margaret Atwood and sign books. Needless to say, I signed far fewer than she that night. (You can read more about that event in an earlier post here or by clicking the image below.)
Another example of this kind of book-adjacent signing would be an event held at Ben McNally Books in Toronto back in 2013 for the launch of a fundraising calendar for PEN Canada featuring twelve Canadian writers, yes, naked. I cannot explained why I agreed to be one of the “lucky” twelve, except perhaps that it was a very good cause and some of my friends were also posing “sans vêtements.” I signed lots of calendars that night—the challenge was to decide exactly where on the image to sign my name—but I also signed books. (For the brave, you can read more about this by clicking here or on the image below.)
Book talk signings
There is almost always a book signing following the book talks I give. Usually, I try to arrange for a local bookstore to attend to sell books after the event. But occasionally I have my own books in tow. I suspect I’ve sold more books and met more readers at community book talks (Probus Clubs, Rotary Clubs, public libraries, and other community-based organizations) than anywhere else.
In fact, I think I’ve had the most moving, fulfilling, and deeply personal encounters with readers at such events. You can read about some of these by clicking here for a post I wrote some time ago.
So book signings will always be apart of the writer’s life. I will never forget the books signed for me by other writers long before I wrote my first novel. Readers remember those encounters! So I’ve kept that in mind since my first novel, and always carry a pen!
Wrapping up
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I was one of those awkward passers-by. I was never sure what to do, knowing I didn’t intend to buy a book but conscious of the guts it took to sit behind that table and smile at people as they walked by. What is the etiquette, Terry? Is stopping and chatting, asking questions about the book enough? Then I feel twice as guilty if I don’t buy the book. Ah, the dilemma! What would you have liked in those early years?
When I get back home, I’m going to check out my copy of the Best Laid Plans to see what inscription you wrote 😉