Hone your craft
Improve your writing
Learn from the best in the biz
Enter:
The Writer's Gym
the ugly truth about book signings
The Ugly Truth About Book Signings
And How To Make Them Not-So-Ugly
By Cassondra Windwalker
 
Book signings suck.
   
Did I say that out loud?
   
I’m pretty sure I did. It’s not like I’m betraying the order or anything here – the dread of book signings is one of the worst-kept secrets in the writing world. It’s the bookish equivalent of standing on a street corner with a cardboard sign begging folks to believe you’ve made it. And just like that person on the street corner, you’re mostly ignored, eyes uncomfortably sliding away. Some folks will half-heartedly lift their already-full arms or book bag in the same way people mock-apologize to panhandlers for not having cash.
   
A few folks will certainly stop by to tell you why your genre sucks or why you’re not qualified to write the book you not only wrote but sold to a publisher. Others will plant themselves solidly in front of your table for at least half an hour to hold court on their own (unfinished) book with no intention of buying yours or allowing anyone else a chance to get close enough for a glimpse. Your cheeks will ache, you’ll be starving, and you’ll need to pee. You’ll accidentally greet the same bookseller (that’s corporate speak for anyone employed by the company) over and over until they actively avoid you. Your own voice will sound increasingly weird and jarring in your head. You’ll memorize all the titles of the bestsellers on the tables around you and wonder why they’re the same authors you saw here ten years ago.
  
In spite of all that, I’ve never held a book signing that didn’t feature peculiarly magical moments. Invariably, I do meet other writers who actually are doing the work, and as often as not, they’re the booksellers. Although none of my published books are for children, some of my favorite conversations have been with shy kids who approach me in ever-tightening circles until they work up the nerve to share their own love of books and of writing. Very often, someone has snuck in a puppy or a kitten and gives me a secret private audience with their furbaby. I’ve had readers with whom I’ve never interacted in real life or on social media drive from out of town to meet me. I’ve been gifted spells and favorite rocks, highest treasure of all. And of course, the people-watching is fire. Stories upon new stories stumble through those double doors.
   
If you’ve held book signings of your own, you probably relate to at least some of those statements. If you haven’t yet, let me caution you: Hollywood has set writers up for a world of disappointment. But while what the movies promise isn’t real, book signings do hold huge advantages for writers willing to do the work. As someone who has been on both sides of those events – I was a Barnes & Noble manager for five years and scheduled all our author and community events – I can offer some basic information that will help you have the most successful signings possible.
   
Grab a map and see how far you’re willing to drive. When I lived in Alaska, my nearest Barnes & Noble was over four hours away, and the small indie bookstores nearer didn’t do book signings. My tolerance might be farther than yours. Think out a few months – do you have any road trips planned, family visits, etc.? Take advantage of those anytime you can. Most stores schedule their signings several months in advance. Within those areas, make a list of every major bookstore as well as all the indie folks. 
   
Once upon a time, getting into a B&N was a major feat, and indie bookstores welcomed local writers with open arms. That paradigm has mostly flipped now. B&N has eliminated a lot of their previous gatekeeping, but many indie bookstores require a certain number of guaranteed sales, charge fees for signings, or will only allow you to bring in books on consignment.
   
Selling books on consignment means the author supplies the books rather than the bookstore ordering them from the distributor for their own stock. At the close of the signing, the store will check their system to see how many books sold and pay the author a percentage for those copies. The author bears the cost of initially purchasing those copies at whatever discount they have contracted, as well as the shipping costs. At the end of the day, the author will pack up whatever books are left over and take them home.
   
If you’re self-published, consignment is no issue, but if you work with a publisher, consignment requires a major outlay of capital that may or may not be returned for some time. I approach signings with the same level of professionalism that I approach every aspect of my career. My work possesses intrinsic value, which I offer to readers and which is profitable to bookstores. I wouldn’t pay for a vanity publisher, and I won’t pay for a vanity signing. I don’t work with bookstores that charge fees or require guaranteed sales numbers. And since I want booksellers who believe in my work and will hand-sell it for me long after my event is over, I don’t work on consignment, either.
   
This part of the job is just like querying. I have my list: now to research. Barnes & Noble is straightforward – call each store and ask whomever answers the phone for the name and email address of the manager in charge of events. I’ve prepared a media sheet: an image-heavy, single sheet that provides my book’s cover and ISBN, its publisher, return status, wholesale discount, and distribution availability, a brief description, my own photo and briefer bio. Some publishers create these for me, but if not, I have a good template. I send a very brief email with all the pertinent information (sans book description and bio) in case they don’t want to open the attachment and ask to schedule a signing in the next few months. Six months out is too early – one month out is too late. If I don’t hear from them within two weeks, I call back and ask to speak with them.
   
The indie bookstores will each have their own process. Most bookstores have that information available on their website. I follow their directives as scrupulously as I would submission guidelines. For whatever reason, this is what works for them. I don’t want to be another irritant – I want to be a money-maker for them. Often, smaller bookstores don’t have space for events, but they will still stock my books and let me sign copies if I drop by. Some small bookstores cooperate with other businesses like breweries or coffeeshops, or with libraries, to actually host the event. 
   
Just like marketing the book itself, marketing the signing is my responsibility, too. I create flyers on Canva – if you’re not familiar, you can create a free account and build all sorts of social media content there. I post them on all my social media accounts a week before the signing, the day before, and the morning of. The day after, I’ll post a photo from the signing itself. The algorithms being what they are, there’s no way to predict when someone will see a post, but it may prompt them to look up my profile and see when my next signing will be in their area.
   
Back when I was working at Barnes & Noble, many book signings were mild annoyances. I’d order signs, set up a table, stock the books, and make announcements every half hour to let our customers know the author was in the store. But most authors sat at their tables like dead fish. They only interacted with customers who approached their table. Some even brought books of their own to read or cellphones to stare at. My typical book signings sold 4-6 copies.
   
Occasionally, though, I’d be delighted. The author would come in like a professional, friendly and ready to work. They’d stand, sit, or walk around, but regardless, they engaged everyone they possibly could. They greeted customers and tempted them with alluring taglines or self-deprecating humor. They talked to customers as fellow readers, as interested in discussing whatever the customer already held in their hand as the book they were trying to sell. They befriended booksellers but didn’t devolve into small talk – they stayed focused and they sold lots of books.
   
I’ve learned from that. When at all possible, I want my signing table by the front doors. Even in Alaska, when that meant frozen toes and hands almost too stiff to sign books! My second choice spot is by the customer service desk. I have physical issues which prevent me from being able to stand as long as I used to, but I am always the first person to greet customers as they walk by. I’ll help them find books, point out the bathroom or the café, and talk about their favorite writers – and their least favorite. I’m not pushy, but I’m not invisible. 
   
I show up half an hour early to every signing. Some bookstores are only willing to allow authors two hours for a signing, which is hardly time for anything, but most will let you stay all day if you like. I always bring my own tablecloth, just in case. It’s a good idea to have something on hand with your contact information and social media handles. I use business cards because they’re the most versatile, but a lot of authors like to use bookmarks. A stack of suggested book club questions and discussion topics can be a selling point, too. If it’s seasonally appropriate, I might have a dish of treats to tempt readers, befriend stray children, stave off hunger pangs for the homeless who wander in, and most importantly – charm the booksellers.
   
My 2025 release GHOST GIRLS AND RABBITS dealt with the epidemic of missing and murdered indigenous women. My state of Colorado is one of only three states in the U.S. that operates a Missing Indigenous Person Alert system, so I brought along a small chalkboard with the opt-in information displayed. Items that are relevant and peripherally related can help expand reader interest, but the most vital draw to your books is always you.
   
Other than that, I keep it simple. I believe in my books. I am confident the right readers will love them. I don’t often use gimmicks or swag or spend more money promoting myself than I make in profits. If you already have a banner or a sign from conferences or festivals you attend, by all means, bring them. If not, though, you definitely don’t need to waste the money creating them for book signings.
   
Remember, these are already your people. They literally came here looking for something to read, and you have that something. Don’t try to convince the fantasy reader to buy your memoir, but absolutely let the history buff know about your steampunk novel. Respect the reader. Like the reader. Listen to the reader. And they’ll buy your book – if not for themselves, for their friends.
   
I’ve had people buy multiple copies of the same book. I’ve had people buy one each of five different books. I’ve had people who hate my genre buy a copy for their library because they want to support a local writer. 
   
Book signings are long days. Positive self-talk probably helps a person survive in a healthy way, but honestly, my running inner narrative is bitter, harsh, and sarcastic, excoriating every minor misstep and humiliation. Luckily, I’m often interrupted by fabulous and fascinating people who distract my introverted little black heart from its self-loathing. I reward myself when it’s all over – a drink, a chocolate, a hot bath. A new book or a new cheese.
   
Successful book signings rely on a simple equation: show up, be professional, and believe in your work. The books won’t sell themselves, but you will sell them just fine. Schedule a signing today. Every new reader is a world changed.
 

 
 

Disclaimer: Story Unlikely is a literary magazine that publishes fiction and nonfiction, but cannot guarantee distinction between the two.  The views expressed in the articles reflect the author(s) opinions and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher and editors.  The published material, adverts, editorials and all other content is published in good faith. Story Unlikely cannot guarantee and accepts no liability for any loss or damage of any kind caused by this website and errors and for the accuracy of claims made by the content providers.
 
On this website you might find links to the websites, third- party content and advertising.  By using our website and online magazine you acknowledge that and agree that Story Unlikely cannot be held responsible and shall not be liable for content of other websites, advertisements and other resources.  Story Unlikely reserves the right to make changes to any information on this site without a notice.  By using this site, you agree to all terms and conditions listed above. If you have any questions about this policy, you may contact us.
123 Fake Street
Davenport, IA 52806, United States