There are a lot of reasons I want to finish my book. One: I want to accomplish the now life-long dream and experience the feeling of that triumph. Two: I have a story that lights me up, and I want others to share in that with me. Three: I want money. I want to be paid for my art and step into the author’s career that I’ve wanted since I was a kid. And four: I want a big-ass launch party.
Sometimes, especially most recently, the vision of my book launch party is the greatest driving force pushing me to finish writing. It feels like an attainable goal, one that I can see clearly in my mind. I know what I want the venue to look like. I know the colors that will be featured, and I know the specific type of dress I want to wear. I know how I want to do my reading, who I want to perform, all the way down to the music I want to hear.
But for all my dreaming, there is also the reality that I will have a monster of a challenge pulling my book launch event off. Because in the end, the key to a successful book event—whether it’s a launch party, a book signing, a festival, or an educational program—is not in the superficial details. It’s not even in the books that will be on the table. By the time you get to your event, your books will be done, your colors and outfit already picked out.
The success of your day will be in how well you organized yourself and the event.
I went to four book events this year. Two were book festivals and two were book talks/tabling events. At almost all of them I was behind the scenes, either working the event or very-damn near to it as I networked and met people, and from each experience I learned a valuable lesson in how to be successful in marketing yourself as an author.
The most successful book talk I went to was smooth because I had to do almost no thinking. I walked in, scanned my ticket, pulled up my vaccination card, and then took a seat. The focus was on the author speaking that day. It was hosted at a bookstore, with the author’s agent introducing him and asking questions. The Q&A was held in the bookstore’s event space, away from browsing customers so the bookstore could continue its daily business, and at the end of the talk, a table near the front of the room had been set up so a line for book signings could form. Easy and smooth. The other event was not so focused.
Though to be fair, that was my fault.
It was not specifically advertised as a book event or even a vendor event. It was more of a cultural celebration. When I signed up, I didn't do the proper research to find out where the event was. I assumed, based on the flyers that it was outdoors in a park. It was not. When I pulled up to the venue, I realized how wrong I was, because the event was not outdoors or even in an open space. It was in a club.
That was my gap for sure, but the event planners also made some missteps. For example, although the event requested vendor tables, the vendors were pushed into a tucked-away back corner of the club that attendees could barely see. There was no wifi (which made it difficult for the vendors who were selling to make credit card sales), and I was asked to speak the day before the event and to come up with something to say about writing. I should have said no—again, that was my fault. But also, all information about how the organization us vendors would come in, work, and eventually leave was tough.
Now, let’s talk about the festivals.
Both of these festivals were large events with outdoor elements (allowing participants to walk up to vendor tables) and indoor speaking engagements in multiple locations. Both were intended to allow visitors to explore the town they were hosted in. Visitors could pop in to a venue to see a favorite author or learn something about writing and then explore a number of author tables they could buy books from. Both had a ticketed keynote speaker event with VERY well-known speakers that their audiences would love. Both have also been running for about the same number of years (5-8 to be exact). One had thousands of attendees and was an extremely successful, well-timed, well-staffed, and meticulously managed event. The other…was not.
For both, I was present from beginning to end: three hours before the event started to build tables and set up presentations and then two hours after the event cleaning up and mingling. At both events, there were moments went things went “wrong”: people didn’t know where to go, unexpectedly large lines formed before someone could get to them to direct the flow, and at both festivals the lights were turned off during the keynote speakers’ talks. But the major difference in the organization of the successful event is that EVERY misstep was planned for.
The organizers of the one that I call “successful” had an entire board that worked for a year to put the event together. They raised money from individuals and organizations to cover the costs of the event and make it free for participants. Even without knowing the size of the crowd, they anticipated the number of people that might show up and had not only an informed staff of paid employees (including me) at every single station to direct people, but also supported the staff with anywhere from two to five volunteers who came to help throughout the entire day. I, as a new staff member, was sent to work with someone who had worked the event three years in a row and knew exactly what they were doing. I was given the authority to manage the crowds and direct people and the help that I needed when a flux of attendees approached me with questions. Authors and their entourages had their own check-in spot and were brought to their venues at very specific times. When their talks ended, they were immediately escorted out to a central location where fans could meet them. Every Q&A had a strict time limit. Tables, chairs, microphones, and water were provided to everyone involved, and all AV was handled by a special team that had their own members scattered across the event. When it came to the keynote speaker, all staff were called to work it, and there were eight of us standing at the doors, instructing the 500 guests on how to check in, show their tickets, get their books, and get to their seats. When the lights went dark in the middle of the keynote’s Q&A, the venue’s property manager was hustling towards me before I could even get to him. Someone had accidentally leaned on a light switch.
The point is, no one had to think too hard. Not the authors, not the attendees, not even the staff. That event worked seamlessly because every question that was asked had a clear answer—or at least a point person who would answer it. Everyone’s movements were anticipated and planned, from the random attendee who barely even knew there was a festival to the booksellers who needed tables and chairs.
In comparison, the other festival raised funds by marketing itself as a ticketed event, which is an excellent way of funding your event, but somehow, even with the numbers pre-established, there weren’t enough welcome packages for each ticketed guest available upon check-in. Check-in staff didn’t all seem aware of what the differences in ticket levels meant and seemed overwhelmed by a large group of guests coming in at the same time. Authors’ venues changed at the last second and many of the presenters were lost trying to get to their own talks. Vendors were set up in venues that weren’t conducive to talking and selling. For example, in mine, there was no wifi (again) and the authors weren’t integrated into the business’s operations for the day, so they felt like an after-thought. Attendees who did visit weren’t clear that there were other booths to visit, and that led to frustration on the part of authors who saw little foot traffic. When the lights went down on the keynote speaker, it was because the event had exceeded its time limit and the property manager was closing the building. Everyone was then hastily shuffled out.
My own organization counter-balanced that experience.
First, I had all of my table materials packed into a suitcase and knew what I wanted my table to look like, so set up was easy. Second, I invited my friend and my sisters to join me. The point was for them to enjoy the conference and have a good time, but they also helped me. They walked to all of the other author tables with me. They sat at my table while I stepped away. They told participants to come up to me, handed out my business cards, and helped writers sign up for my programs. I wasn't alone, so that meant I could go to the bathroom, network, and talk to customers without worrying. We worked the shit out of that event! By the end, everyone knew us.
My point is not that you need money to run an event. To host a book signing at a bookstore, you probably don’t need a lot of money, if any at all. For the one event that had boards and donors, I’m sure the corporate donation money helped, but it was still the responsibility of the organizers to direct the flow of attendees and provide clear instructions to staff, volunteers, authors, and participants.
When you’re planning your next event, you need to think about all of that. Where will you stand/sit? If you or someone else is speaking, will they speak into a mic? How will people in the back hear? How will you manage your crowd? If you have a table, how will you make space for the people that want to browse your table vs the people that want to ask you questions or buy from you? How are you going to sell your books—cash, credit card, Amazon, PayPal, Apple Pay? If your event is an author talk on Zoom – do you have the right links? Will people be aware that they’re in the right Zoom room? What will happen if the tech doesn’t work?
My book comes out in one year, and I'm already planning my book launch.
As I plan this event, I have to think about all of these things because my book launch is my first public presentation as an author. I need to decide if I’ll sell tickets, and if so, what will guests get for their money? I need to make sure I have more than enough of everything (books, merch, food) because I might have guests who buy their tickets at the door. If I’m doing a reading of my book, how will I let people know it’s time to sit? I’ll need help guiding people to their seats, including the elderly and less able-bodied. I’ll need to be able to keep the audience quiet so the reading is not disturbed, and I can’t go on so long that people get uncomfortable in their seats.
All of those technicalities are on me, and those are the things that guests will experience before they even pick up my book! I could write the next great American novel, but if my event leaves people confused and frustrated, they might carry that into their experience with my story.
What I learned about the book events I worked so far is that everything is a part of my presentation. Everything is a part of my story. The measures I put in place to create a safe, fun, and organized environment will only benefit how my readers approach me as an author.
My book will matter after my event, when my readers have it in their hands. But at the book launch...not so much. What will matter much more is how I make my future-readers feel. A lot of that comes down to luck, but I like to think a lot more is controlled by a well-executed plan.
Love,
Q.
Great article! As an author who has participated in a few book events as a vendor, I 100 % agree that organization is the key to a successful event and influencing future-readers / supporters of your books.