My second author event of of the weekend - and of my career - took place the following day, Sunday, August 13, at the Gramercy Books Local Author Festival.
(I've always found it interesting that there are several "suburbs" of Columbus that are actually urban "island towns" surround by the city. I believe this peculiarity is mostly unique to Columbus, Ohio, having been an outcome of city planning back in the 1950's promoted by then mayor Jack Sensenbrenner, who wanted to ensure that Columbus wouldn't eventually lose its population base to suburban development. To this end Mayor Sensenbrenner allowed the city's water to serve only areas that were incorporated into the city. Some of the old suburbs,
But I digress).
Anyway, the Gramercy Books Local Author Festival was an outdoor event that ran all weekend,
I asked Brynette how she chose her pen name and she explained that "Josie" was the name of her grandmother whom she adored, and "Carver" was the last name of her favorite middle-school teacher.
"Wow," I joked, "your favorite grandmother must have been a real spit-fire!"
"Oh, she was," Brynette laughed.
It appeared to me that Brynette was doing a fair business that day with both her genres,
For all that, in truth I found the whole event kind of excruciating. From start to finish, and even for a little while after it was over.
(Sigh). Here's why I had such a dismal time at the jovial Gramercy Books Local Author Festival:
Shortly after my book was released around the middle of June I stopped by Gramercy Books, thinking a small independent book store might be willing to have a look at my book.
To my delight, the salesperson I talked to told me that I could leave a couple of copies at the store to sell on consignment, that they had a shelf just for the books of local authors.
However my delight immediately deflated,
The store's manager had little interest in my problem which was, after all, my problem. The store's policy would not be changed, nor the store's share cut back so that a lowly unknown author such as myself might break even. "This is the only way you're going to get your book out there," the manager informed me.
So I left a couple of copies of my book at the store, joylessly, and when I received an invitation to the Gramercy Books Local Author Festival first I said okay, then I said on second thought no thanks, then I said, aw, okay.
And so I spent my time at the festival trying to get the passers-by to buy my book, and then feeling badly when someone did buy one, knowing that the more books I sold the more money I'd lose.
I sold three books, but I guess it could have been worse.
I could have sold four.