SCRIBE'S BOOOK SIGNING FIASCO/DEBACLE

For those who aren’t on Facebook or who don’t read my writer’s blog, I had my first book signing this past Saturday, June 11. It was an unmitigated disaster. Here’s why:

It started with the venue location. Keep in mind this little expo was the brainchild of my publisher’s partner who works in the City of Detroit at a Sports Center where the Redwings practice. The area where the ice goes is sizable enough that, when dry, it can house several vendors hawking their particular brands of merchandise. In this case, the merchandise included collectibles such as comic books, actual books, movies, pop art and face painting by at least one chick that made my tongue swell like I was having an allergic reaction.

In the midst of all this sat myself and two other writers from the publishing company, me at one table and the two of them sharing the other. Each of us had our own books on the tables as well as each other’s. At most I expected to sell two or three books in a venue like that.

As I mentioned before, the location of this thing was a huge determining factor in its success or, in this instance, significant lack thereof. Or perhaps I should say the perceived location was the problem.

The guy who spearheaded this whole thing made it sound as if this place was in an area it turned out not to be in. I’ll call this mad genius Joe so you won’t know his name is actually RUDY.

So, anyway Rudy…I mean, Jack…wait, what did I say he was gonna be called? Rudy? Wilbur? Well, whatever his name is in this post, Rudy described the event as taking place in Detroit’s famous Greektown section. Allow me to explain:

Greektown is just about the most jumping part of Detroit, especially for white suburbanites. It is arguably the safest part of the city due to it being a virtual police state and it houses one of the three casinos in the area in the midst of several Greek restaurants and bakeries. People love hanging out there these days and the idea of an expo being located at its heart would undoubtedly have appealed to quite a few fanboys and girls alike who could have parked and walked there.

The expo started at 10:00 a.m. so I was required to be there at least a half hour early. All I can say is thank Zeus for the GPS program on my Verizon Wireless phone! Since I thought I knew where I was going, I kept making what I thought were the appropriate turns and having to wait for the GPS to recalculate the route. I didn’t understand why. Greektown was within sight, why did it want me to make a left turn? I trusted it and wound up driving away from Greektown. About three miles down the road I noticed the worst high school in the city and thought this couldn’t be right. A quarter of a mile down the road I realized it was.

The expo was located in the middle of nowhere, next to a fire station and butted up against a cemetery! Filled with giant monuments to people whose surviving relatives are probably unaware of their existence.

But I figured what the hell? Surely people will find the place. It’s only five bucks to get in.

Once we were seated at our tables, people started filing in at exactly ten o’clock. In fact, about thirty people walked in within the first hour. By eleven another thirty had shown up. By noon two or three people drifted in. By one the vendors outnumbered the patrons by a ratio of three to one.

On top of the lackluster turnout, the place was a sauna. Not only were we on a concrete floor but also we were in an area that’s normally covered in ice so the ventilation system was practically non-existent. I was told that turning on the large fans at the top would make it even worse. So there we sat in the sweltering heat on a humid day with no relief outside. People filed past us, their eyes momentarily drifting toward our tables, some of them wearing smirks as they kept going.

Eventually two pudgy pre-teen girls showed up and actually purchased a book. SOMEBODY ELSE’S BOOK! Of the four books present, the one that got bought was the one written by the only author who hadn’t shown up! I couldn’t even entice these girls to do the two for twenty purchase and get a second book.

At this point the minutes started ticking by at an agonizing rate of slowness. Most of my time was spent talking to my friend and colleague Nora Cook Smith, author of “A Not So perfect Christmas,” walking around to look at other tables, reading, and trading lustful glances with that fine-ass face painter.

By three o’clock vendors started jumping off this sinking ship. The guy behind me packed up half his merchandise and wheeled it out to his car. I glanced back and saw the vendors in the rear had left like thieves in the night. Talk began circulating that we might be leaving early by three. Did I mention this thing was slated to go until seven?

Nobody I’d invited showed up so my strategy of stacking my odds and making it look as if my table was worth checking out backfired horribly. (Former) EFB’s sisters were on their way but because of the idea that the place was located in the heart of Greektown, they didn’t trust their GPS either and wound up making a wrong turn not half a mile from where we were. Apparently wherever they wound up scared them so badly that they sought out the freeway and headed back home, apologizing profusely and promising to buy the book the next day. None of those on my “Maybe” list from my Facebook invitation showed up. So I sat there like a dumb-ass and wasted my day off.

I couldn’t even do any people watching because there were no fucking people!!!

Meanwhile, Rudy…er, I mean Fernando looked like the walking dead because of his severe exhaustion from the so-called planning of this thing. I’m not sure what he did because half the people listed in the ad slated to appear were nowhere to be found. At one point he confessed his disappointment to me but this was early on and I was still in denial that people would arrive in the later part of the day. No such luck.

At this point, you might be thinking this was all because of the poorly worded description of the location. I wish you were right because this next part is so mind-numbingly idiotic it begs the question: Should the mentally retarded be allowed to plan expos?

Why the harsh language, you ask? ‘Cause in addition to being an *asshole, I also know not to plan a new event in the City of Detroit when there are two major events occurring at the exact same fucking time!!!

Not only was there a Tigers game but also the annual boat show was going on, a huge draw in the Detroit area. Now, it is possible that we could have received the overflow from some of those events but that’s where those poorly worded directions come back into play.

(Former) EFB insisted on coming after work despite my protestations to the contrary. I told her we’d probably be wrapping up by the time she showed but she seemed to think it was possible that more people would arrive. I was right, she was wrong. She got there at five while I was in the bathroom and when I came back out I was told we could leave.

If nothing else, she is a natural when it comes to PR. She asked Rudy…wait, I mean Abdullah, why he’d claimed this was Greektown when it was three miles in the other direction. She also advised him that people probably got lost and said the hell with it. She also reiterated what Id said earlier about this being the instant communication age so people are able to call or text others about how lame an event is thereby preventing them from wasting their time.

(Former) EFB advised me the first thing she would have done would have been to check the Detroit events calendar as to avoid what happened that day. She also would have advertised it as being 3 miles south of Greektown. I reminded her that she took herself out of the picture a couple years ago and she replied, “Yeah, well I’m back in! I didn’t realize these people were such fucking idiots!”

Right now, I can’t summon a single argument to dispute that~