The Opposite of Love is Not Hate: It’s Using People
How to Sell Lots of Books
I hunched down in an end seat on the back row of the Century City Los Angeles Hyatt Hotel auditorium. My presence was forced labor, a contract requirement from a publisher. The publisher had paid the outrageous fee and travel and promised that the only goal of the speakers at this conference was to help me.
In fact, Publisher Lady said she was only forcing me to attend this workshop because she wanted to help me.
As I was about to learn, I most certainly needed all the help I could get.
The people around me seemed nice enough, but restless. Who wouldn’t be? The brochure promised we were one secret away from fabulous wealth and fame.
I let my eyelids slip. Thus, I was half asleep when a Darth Vader-Wizard of Oz voice boomed off stage.
The voice thundered: “Are you . . .” I slunk back afraid. The more experienced around me perched on the edge of their chairs. “Are you . . . red-dee to make some MON-NEE with your book?”
And the place went crazy. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” burst out all around me.
I slipped into shock. Maybe this was all a dream. I sleep deeply and easily on planes and maybe I’d been shocked awake because we were going down.
At the moment I spun around looking for clues, a man leapt to center stage, spotlights orbiting, and I snapped to attention. I scanned for the nearest exit.
The holder of ‘the secrets’ promised in the brochure glared a challenge into our eyes. “Now . . .” He began to rhythmically clap his manicured hands together over his head, “here’s the really good news. To be a wildly successful writer, you don’t need to have a good book! The marketing secrets you will learn today will send your book to the top without a spellcheck or an expensive editor.”
A communal life of relief waved through the room.
He said: “But I don’t want to waste my time if you are one of those writers who still thinks a good book is important. I want to know which of you are satisfied with coffee shop story-telling and closets full of rewrites and rejection letters—and, and—I want to know which of you are ready to enter the real world of publishing. Let’s do this. Those of you satisfied with little lives—those of you think you can sell books the old way—well, you just stay in your comfortable seat.”
He paused and then strode to the edge of the stage. But the rest of you, the serious writers who came to this workshop to change your lives, to realize your dreams—I want you to sand up, clap your hands over your heads and shout with me—I am ready to make lots and LOTS of MON—NEE!”
The place goes crazy. I’m stupefied. I comfort myself by focusing on a man on the other end of the row ahead of me, also slumped out of danger.
As we broke for lunch and I broke for Venice Beach, I walked over to commiserate with the one likeminded man.
I said: “Thanks for not letting me be the only brat.”
He said: “I would have been up if I weren’t confined to this portable wheel chair.”
As I walked to the parking garage for my escape, reading titles for the afternoon sessons–“How to hijack your competitor’s web presence” and How to use Twitter to so that readers click on your book by mistake.”
I did try Day Two of the workshop (they were taking roll) and the topic fell to a new low. Let’s call it “How to Lose Friends and Influence Bankers.” Day (tomorrow) makes the first day look soft and friendly.
