Treasured Forever

Sign Jam ConfI open an email from Bent Pages Bookstore, a sponsor of the Jambalaya Writers Conference and read, “Can you bring books. The distributor canceled our order.” At first the message did not register. I read it again. Unbelievable! At last, a bookstore is willing to purchase books for me to sign and the distributor cancels the order.

“Yes, I can bring books,” I replied, then called the marketing representative assigned to my book by the publisher. He was also mystified. “The distributor has four of your books on their shelf.” Terry has come to my aide more than one time. He resolved the problem by calling the bookstore and selling them the books they needed.

books jam confI arrived at the Jambalaya Writers Conference to find ten copies of Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot on a chair behind my table. If I had brought books, I would have made more money. Bookstore sales yield a small royalty, in my case, a little over a $1 per book. So, why didn’t I bring books to sell? I didn’t write a book to get rich. Having your book in a retail store makes it easier for the consumer to find. I set the books on the table, laid out some post cards and debated on what to do until the booksigning began.

I have attended a number of writing conferences. The workshops yield the same basic information. No longer in need of an agent or publisher, I had grown weary of attending them. But I had four hours to kill. I choose several workshops on marketing hoping to learn something new I could do to market Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot. I exited the second session on marketing and saw Jane Trufant Harvey author of the Ask Him series of books and host of the video series Jump Start with Jane on thedailymass.com. “What have you learned?” She asked. “Everything I already know and am doing,” I replied.

Tim O'Brien addressing the Jambalaya Writers Conference

Tim O’Brien addressing the Jambalaya Writers Conference

The exception was the session with the keynote speaker, Tim O’Brien. The colorful Vietnam veteran strode to the podium. A hybrid of comfort and business, he wore a baseball cap, black tennis shoes resting on an orange sole with bright yellow laces and a business suit. I will never forget the theme of his presentation: What your character does will be remembered. His appearance may have repelled some, but the greatest wisdom tends to be hidden in unusual packages. I would not have read a story about the Vietnam War. After hearing O’Brien speak, The Things They Carried is on my reading list.

I left O’Brien’s session and took my place at the author’s book signing. The room quickly filled with people seeking to make purchases. The hour flew by as I chatted with people about Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot. Most of the crowd had departed to attend the next workshop when two Asian young men approached my table. One of the men, Paul, clutched the Program of Presenters handed out by the conference. He wasn’t interested in purchasing a book. Paul smiled broadly and spoke in broken English, “I want autographs of famous authors.” O’Brien who was signing books directly across from me had already left, so I pointed to Rebecca Gernon sitting to my right. Rebecca’s Amy Signs had been picked up nationally by Barnes and Nobles as well as many university libraries and she was a presenter at the conference.

Paul obtained Rebecca’s signature and then returned to my table. “I want autographs of famous authors.” Paul smiled. I returned his smile and wondered why he was standing in front of my table. Then I had an epiphany. Paul thought all of the authors at the conference were famous. I do not fall into the famous category, but didn’t know how to communicate that to Paul without being rude. After a second request for my famous autograph, I signed one of my postcards and handed it to Paul. His face lit up, and he exclaimed, “I will treasure this forever.” I left the Jambalaya’s Writers Conference contemplating if I should pray for fame to make that postcard worthy of being treasured.

 

 

 

 

 

Just What I Needed

Mary Cummings

Mary Cummings

I had reservations about bringing Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot to the Prayer and Purpose Conference at the Assemblies of God Campgrounds. The book sold well at the annual convention last November. If the same ladies attended the Prayer and Purpose Conference, it wasn’t likely I would sell many books. Also, my husband was working that weekend. I didn’t want to drive to Alexandria alone. I was thinking of passing on attending the conference when I ran into Sonya McLean, Women’s Unlimited Director, conference organizer and my pastor’s wife, at McDonalds. The subject of bringing my book arose and it was settled that I would attend.

My assumptions about selling the book quickly proved true. Zero sales the first day of the conference. As I walked into the church Saturday morning, a woman walking out stuck a check into my hand. My first sale of the two day event and I wasn’t even at my table. Sonya allowed me to read an excerpt and talk about the book later that day and a few more books sold.

I wasn’t disappointed by the dismal sales. I consider one book sold a success as I am always amazed that anyone would pay money for something I wrote. But I had planned to give the profits to Women’s Unlimited, which supports orphans and missionaries. I had hoped to give more.

While the conference attendees were dispersed into various workshops, I browsed the product tables that lined the walls. A book caught my eye – The Restlessness of the Call: Remaining Faithful Through the Process of Being Appointed, Anointed and Prepared by Mary Cummings. My husband bought me a Kindle several years ago, and I recently purchased an IPad. I seldom buy a printed book and returned The Restlessness of the Call to its place on the table. Then I made a mental note to look for a digital copy when I returned home.

The lady who had Mary engaged in conversation departed. Writing and publishing a book is easier than marketing and selling one. NOLA.com has millions of visitors annually, so I am always willing to help a fellow author gain exposure for their work. I offered to feature Mary’s work on NOLA.com’s Faith, Beliefs and Spirituality blog.

Mary BookMary is the founder of Shekinah Ministries. She is a speaker known for leading people into the presence of God and is a former president of the Shreveport Women’s Business Counsel. She is amazed at the way the presence of God changes us making the Glory of God her favorite subject. She also has a heart for missions and holds a BS Degree in Missions from Southwest Assemblies of God University.

As we chatted, Mary offered to do a book swap. I gave her Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot, and she gave me The Restlessness of the Call. I currently have two books on my Ipad that I am reading and a list of books waiting to be read. If Mary had not suggested a book swap, I might have forgotten about the book that caught my eye.

While I was putting things away after my trip, I opened Mary’s book to get a feel for its message. I read the words of a gifted teacher and reached for a highlighter. Point after point resonated in my own life and the challenges that I face as I wait for the fulfillment of things revealed to me when I was a teenager. Mary’s book explained what has happened in the past and gave me hope for the future.

Thank You Mary Cummings, your book was just what I needed.

A Book Fair to Remember

I backed out of the garage. While I waited for the garage door to close, I typed the address to the New Orleans Book Fair on my GPS. A neighbor tapped on my window. He pointed down, “You have a flat.” I leaped from my car to verify his assessment. Yep, it was flat. “Pull next door and I will put air in it,” he said.

I pulled into his driveway while he started the compressor. He knelt to examine the tire and found a nail. More air would be a temporary solution. By the time I left the Book Fair, the tire would be flat again. While he put the temporary tire that glared “do not exceed 50 mph” on the car, I debated staying home. Instead, I drove to my son’s house to borrow his car and suggested he bring my flat tire to be repaired.

The parking fee had doubled since the last time I had been in the area. A six minute walk later, I arrived at 725 Magazine Street and found my table. The author I was assigned to share a table with had not arrived yet. I laid out my books and magazines and sat down to survey my surroundings.

I smiled at an elderly man and woman who sat at the table across from me. Tales of the Saturni in block letters covered a mass of dead bodies on the poster to the left. A strange creature on the poster to the right chewed on the arm of a headless body. The skull and dentures in the center of the table were flanked by candles with pictures of Christ – a friendly face among the gore. I looked to my right. A small white poster stuck to one of the many pillars holding the warehouse roof in place announced in multicolored letters an expletive which began with F (I’ll leave the rest to your imagination) Time 2 p.m.

New Orleans Book Fair

Thin twenty some things walked by sporting purple hair and tattoos. Several young men with backpacks and dogs on leashes browsed the table next to mine. I debated whether or not they would buy the advance reader copy of Allen Ginsberg’s The Book of Martyrdom and Artifice clearly marked “Not for Sale.”  A plump woman dressed in black with magenta hair and studs in lips and eyes paused briefly in front of my table to chat with a friend. I was distracted by a tall, thin woman whose stunning red hair was woven into dreadlocks and adorned with a bright green headband. Then some ones time machine must have opened a worm hole. The perfect 1950’s woman walked by complete with belted A-line dress and pill box hat resting on shoulder length black hair. I doubted I would sell a book, but “people watching” was very entertaining.

My book caught the attention of a retired attorney. Rob in his short cropped hair, beige shirt and tan pants was not as entertaining as the multicolored hair, studded and tattooed people, but he was interesting. He had practiced law in New Mexico and Colorado before he came to New Orleans to start an Orthodox Church. While I chatted with Rob, a man from New Jersey handed me a twenty. He purchased Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot for his wife, a pastor, and said he would read it too. I promised to contact Rob after the holidays to write about his endeavors and then my table partner arrived.

Raheem Allen laid out copies of Zane’s Destruction. Fifteen year old Raheem, who had written and published his first novel, quickly became the talk of the event. At least that is what a woman from another table who had come to investigate said. Raheem made his first sale to the woman’s daughter. The support Raheem had from his proud father was touching. Daddy turned every book sale into a photo op.

The crowd was much larger than the Louisiana Book Fest in Baton Rouge, but I only sold one copy of Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot, and few people took the free magazine which contained an excerpt from the book’s introduction. I relinquished the table to a grateful Raheem and left early. I wasn’t discouraged. Books have niche markets. This was not my niche, but I might return next year, to people watch and sale one more book.

 

 

Women Unlimited

Rod, my husband, walked in the door at 6 p.m. from working a twelve hour shift. I had the car loaded and car keys in hand thinking he would be too tired to drive for three hours. “I’m fine,” he said. Reluctantly I dropped my keys into my purse hoping he really was fine. He had been up since 4:30 a.m. When we reached the interstate, I realized I’d forgotten to write down the mileage, deductible since this was a business trip to sell books at the annual Women’s Unlimited Conference in Alexandria, Louisiana. My math whiz husband calculated how far we had driven and quoted a figure to me.

Driving the interstate at night is like driving in a barrel. The solitude made it a great time to talk, and I unloaded my concerns. Several ministers, who were in the book, allowed me to read excerpts and sell books after their services. All of my options to sell Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot would cease by the end of the year. At this point, I have three ministries to visit and see no prospects for invitations in the future. There are a lot of festivals in the area, but the Louisiana Book Festival yielded few sales compared to sales at a church function. There is nothing my husband can do, but I felt better.

Street lights appeared as we approached Baton Rouge and traffic grew thicker. I am a cautious driver. My husband drives as though everyone knows how to drive. As long as he is in the right-of-way, he is not bothered by anyone two inches away from him or that I’m whispering a prayer with my eyes shut. Our children, now adults, gave us few problems. Most of my grey hair comes from Rod’s driving. After twenty-eight years of marriage, you think I’d have learned to trust him. We have never been in a wreck.

Safely on the other side of the city, I pulled out the turkey wraps I’d prepared so we would not have to stop. Full and every subject of discussion exhausted; silence filled the car. Rod turned up the radio. I pulled out my Ipad and listened to 70’s music while I played Phase Ten, quickly tired of playing a computer with no human error to take advantage of I switched to Spider Solitaire. Two games later, Rod changed to the Fox News Channel. Talk radio is not my favorite. I grow weary of listening to people criticize, nitpick and slander leaders of nations. I opened a book to occupy my mind.

We arrived at the hotel around 10 p.m. I decided to visit the conference center. Sonya McLean, Director of Women’s Unlimited, was still in the center making last minute adjustments. “Where should I set up my table,” I asked. She pointed to an empty area behind the chairs, “Anywhere back here.” I cringed. I would be in the area people were worshiping God and praying. I have problems selling books in a church, especially while people are praying. At a previous church, the pastor had instructed me to set up in the sanctuary. I requested to set up in the foyer, thinking as people were leaving they could buy books, which turned out to be a bad idea. The church met in a gym. After service, no one left. They stayed to eat and fellowship. The service was long, and I could not stay until the fellowshipping was over. After that experience, I had purposed to trust God and simply do what I am told.

The next morning, I found a place by the main exit door. Rod set up my table. While we stocked it with books, I unloaded my frustration. “I really should not be in here. I should be in the foyer with the other merchandise. This is a bad place.

Sonya McLean, Director of Women’s Unlimited

I won’t sell books here.”

“Keep a positive attitude,” Rod admonished as he walked out the door. Five minutes later, a woman walked in and purchased a book. A few minutes later Sonya said she would introduce me several times during the conference. I looked at the agenda and noted that her first speaker, Julie Jefferies, was the subject of “Miracle at St. Rita’s” in Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot. I knew that would be a good selling point but only if Sonya introduced me before Julie spoke.

At the end of the first session, Sonya was giving some concluding comments and said, “I wasn’t going to do this now, but, Teena, come up here.”  I stood by Sonya’s side as she introduced me and talked about “Like Any Normal Day”, which recounted her son’s experience when he witnessed the destruction of the Twin Towers on 911. I interjected, “And your next speaker, Julie Jefferies, is also in the book.” Sonya handed me the microphone to talk about Julie’s story. I walked back to the table. Sonya dismissed in prayer, and I instantly had a line at my table.  After lunch, more ladies visited my table to purchase the book before Julie spoke.

Rev. Doug Fulenwider

Sandy Cash joined me for the evening session. She was working in Alexandria, and I owed her book for contributing her story, “Is That All There Is”. We were chatting when I looked up to see Rev. Doug Fulenwider standing near my table. He had endorsed my book, so I tapped him on the shoulder to say hello.

He smiled. “How are the books selling?”

“Better than expected,” I responded.

“Let me have a book,” he said. “I’ll bring it back.”

I handed him a book wondering what he planned to do. He had come to offer a few words of greeting to the attendees of the conference, which he did. Then he held up my book and endorsed it, calling the book refreshing. I was humbled that he gave me an endorsement for the back cover of the book, stunned that the Louisiana Superintendent stood before several hundred women and publically endorsed it. Rev. Fulenwider returned the book to me and I thanked him for his kindness. “I liked the book,” he said as he walked out the door. Now those are words I can believe since he backed it up with deeds.

A Missionary Experience

Pastor Wade Moody, Iglesia VIDA Church

My husband, Rod, was off on the day I was scheduled to make a presentation about Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot at Iglesia VIDA. I asked Pastor Moody if he wanted Rod to hold a special service for children. He welcomed the idea.

I helped Rod set things up for his service and then found a seat on the front row in the sanctuary. After the offering, Pastor Moody introduced me to the congregation and then handed me the microphone. “Wait for the translation,” he said. His church minsters to the Hispanic community and offers a bi-lingual service. For the next ten minutes, I had a taste of what it might be like to speak in a foreign land as everything I said was translated into Spanish. I quickly learned that speaking short phrases worked best.

I had abbreviated the excerpt knowing the bi-lingual service would double the ten minutes it took to read it. Some of the congregation members were from Honduras so shared how I started writing. When I taught Sunday School, one of the students was from Honduras. One day, she came to class with a cassette recorder. She planned to record the lesson and put it on the radio in Honduras. The audio quality on the inexpensive equipment was poor, so I started giving her a copy of my notes. Others in the class requested copies of the notes. I wrote more and more of what I said until I was writing the entire lesson and reading it.  The single mother and hairdresser quickly ran into financial problems and discovered translating English into Spanish more difficult than she had anticipated. The project was abandoned, but I never stopped writing.

After the service, I stood by my display in the foyer. Some of the children were showing Squiggy, Rod’s diver that lives in a water filled two liter bottle, to their father. Rod uses Squiggy to teach the children a simple message about obedience. He controls Squiggy by applying slight pressure to the bottle. The pressure causes the diver to sink to the bottom of the bottle. When he released the pressure, the diver rises to the top. It appears the diver has a mind of his own and either obeys or disobeys Rod. By the end of the lesson, the diver will only move at Rod’s command. After the service Rod showed the children how to control the diver, and they were entertaining their father. The father looked at me and said, “That is so cool.”

Dalyz purchased a book. She was surprised that I remembered her name. When we visited to interview Pastor Moody, the service was in Spanish, and she had translated for me. She was thrilled to learn I had included her in Pastor Moody’s story.

Rod Myers, Children’s Pastor, with Squiggy

While I chatted with Dalyz, a young man who attended the University of New Orleans perused the back of a promotional card with comments people had made about the book. He was impressed by the atheist statement “The personal approach of telling stories about the effect of faith in people’s lives paid off. It’s a fluid read that strikes a chord. I would not be surprised if this book goes into multiple printings.”

“Did an atheist really say that?”

“Yes,” I replied. “His story is the last chapter in the book.”

“You should come to UNO.”

“I’d love to. Do you know someone who could invite me?”

While he thought about it, Dalyz paid for his book, which has been a common occurrence since I started selling Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot.

I sold the last book to a young woman who spoke broken English. She had recently come to America and friends had chided her for not learning the language. “I’m going to use your book to learn how to read English,” she said.

My husband pointed to his wrist as a sign he was ready to go. He doesn’t wear a watch, but I knew what he meant. He had promised our son that he would help him put up a fence, and it was getting late. I cleared the table of my promotional materials and pack up the remaining unsold books. While my husband and son worked on the fence, I spent the rest of the day playing with my grandchildren. The end of a perfect day.

A Busy Weekend

I organize my schedule to maximize time and distance traveled. The result was two meetings on the Northshore, one in Mandeville and the other in Pearl River. The next day, I was scheduled to promote Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot at New Covenant Fellowship in Kenner. Two friends accompanied me to the Northshore, Ingrid Green who has published several books of poetry and Dallas McGlinn, publisher of Gathering Magazine (currently on hiatus).

We met at Puccino’s to car pool across the lake. Rebecca and Mary, fellow writers, were there when I arrived. The meeting in Pearl River prevented me from riding with them. We were chatting when Ingrid joined us. She knew Mary, and opted to join them. They left for Mandeville. I checked the time to see if Dallas was late. She wasn’t. When I looked up, she was pulling a bag full of her magazines out of her car as she chatted on her phone.

First stop, Southern Christian Writers Guild meeting for a critique session. I like critiquing but it’s difficult to find a balance between negative and positive comments. In a former critique group, we had a “suck it up” rule. Writing was handed out before the critique session. We came prepared to spotlight every flaw and highlight every stellar string of words. The subject of the critique was not allowed to speak until everyone had commented. Few people could tolerate the inability to defend themselves and their precious baby they had labored to produce. Many never came back. Marlaine, the leader of the Guild, had an excellent solution. She had prepared a worksheet for us to fill out while the authors read one page of their work. We than handed the worksheet to the author who could glean from our comments in private.

After the meeting, Dallas and I departed for Pearl River where I was scheduled to address a joint meeting of the Christian Ladies Book Club and Serenity Book Club at the Precious Pearls Café. The turnout was small. The organizer of the

Pastor Bill Shanks and Vincent

event disappointed. “Eight people committed to attending before I left the house this morning,” she said. I wasn’t disappointed by the small group. If Jesus can show up wherever two or more are gathered in his name, so can I. There were more than two at the meeting. We had a delightful lunch and talked for hours. I left with new friends in Christ. The long ride home gave me opportunity to learn more about Dallas and strengthened our friendship. As far as I was concerned, everything that happened that day was profitable.

By the time, I arrived home I was exhausted and my sinus dripping. I went to bed early hoping I would not wake up sick. Early the next morning, I awoke with a headache. Two Advil’s and another hour of sleep relieved most of the pain. I

owed Pastor Shanks and Tasha a book for contributing their stories and added two books to the usual twenty I bring to promotional opportunities.

Pastor Shanks had put an announcement in the church bulletin welcoming me. I was pursuing the bulletin when a woman tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up. “Do you have writings on the internet?” Clearly she had stumbled upon one of my four blogs and recognized my name and image. Unsure of which blog she was referring to, I responded with the blog that has the most readers, “I write for NOLA.com’s Faith Blog.” She smiled and sat down. Service open with wonderful worship music, and I felt stronger as I sang to the Lord. Then I read the same excerpt that I had read at White Dove the previous Wednesday. The congregation at White Dove was silent during the reading. This congregation laughed at all my attempts at humor.

After the service, I sold more books than expected, witnessed a display of Christian love and met an interesting person. An elderly gentleman was hanging around the table, eyeing the book. “I’d like to have a book but don’t have the money,” he said. A young man standing by the exit door heard him. He pulled out his wallet and handed me a twenty. “Give him the book.” The elderly man was rendered speechless by the display of kindness. He gratefully took the book and left. Once again my credit card scanner did not work, and I was keying in a sale when I heard a man say, I want to talk to you when you’re done. He was interested in hiring a ghost writer. “I’m the man who canceled Mardi Gras,” he said. If you write the book, I can have it produced as a movie. He had my full attention. I did not commit to ghost write his book, but I will write his salvation experience and hope to release it sometime next year.

As I was walking out of the church, the woman who asked me if I had writings on the internet waved. “I bought your book with my Ipad.”

Isn’t technology wonderful!

Santa Buys Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot

Imagine Christmas 1I ‘m taking a break from marketing my book for the rest of the month I wrote in an email to my publicist. Other work is falling behind. I need to get caught up. …Send. I clicked the computer off and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

I walked into the bedroom to dress and noticed a “1” flashing on my phone indicating one message. Play. “Hello, Teena. This is Lisa from Hosanna Church. Would you like to sell your book at Imagine Christmas?”

“People go to Imagine Christmas for the show. You won’t sell any books,” said my husband.

“Probably not, but the event draws a large crowd. It’s a lot of exposure,” I replied. Decisions. Decisions. I already had plans for tomorrow. I called a friend to see if she would man the book table for me on Friday. Not available. I had prayed God would open doors for me to sell the book. Do I turn down an obvious answer to prayer because it’s not convenient? I canceled my plans and called Lisa.

Lisa said they would set up a table for me, but I’ve learned not to depend on what I am told. When organizing an event miscommunications are the norm, not the exception. My son put my table in the car. I added my books and marketing material. Thinking I was finished, I shut the trunk.

Games were being set up in the in the parking lot when I arrived. I drove to the far end of the lot where a few cars were parked and walked into the church. No need to drag my table into the church if they set one up for me. They didn’t. The event coordinator recommended I set up outside in the food tent. Probably not the best place as the sun was setting and the tent dimly lit, but I don’t argue with event coordinators.

I needed the heavy table, so I drove the car to the food tent. A young college student standing nearby came to my rescue when I opened the trunk and the box holding my books fell out spilling books on the ground. I set the table up close to the sound board so I could pilfer electricity if my Ipad battery ran low. Everything was arranged neatly on the table when I noticed the ground was not level and the table slanted. “Please don’t let the books slide off,” I prayed. Then I looked for the money bag. I’d forgotten the bag at home. I can’t sell books without change. Calling my husband to bring the bag wasn’t an option. He had taken our son out to eat. There was no choice but to go home.

A police car blocked the one and only exit out of the parking lot. I stuck my head out of the car window. “Officer, how do we get out?”

“We can’t let cars in or out; too many people in the parking lot. It’s a hazard.”

“Where are people supposed to park that come to the event?” He pointed to a side road. I hastily explained my problem and promised to park on the side road when I returned. Satisfied, he released me from captivity.

Santa holding his copy of Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot

Santa holding his copy of Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot

On the way home, I purposed to have a positive attitude. This would work in my favor. I will bring my desk lamp back and light up my table in the dark tent. I return to Hosanna with my change, lamp and glad I’d exchanged my heels for tennis shoes. The parking lot was filled with people. The street I was directed to park on was lined with cars on both sides as far as the eye could see. I found a parking spot and navigated through the throng of children playing on the inflatables provided by Hosanna for the children to play on. I set the lamp on my table in triumph and clicked the switch. The bulb flickered and died.

At this point, I doubted I would sell any books. I appreciated that the pastor at Hosanna had thought of me and included me in the event. The women at the registration table were giving bookmarks to everyone one who registered. The exposure was a measure of consolation as people might buy the book through retail outlets. Then the MC of the Christmas show stopped at my table. “Have you sold any books?”

“No,” I said. “I seldom make sales unless I am allowed to speak about the book or read an excerpt.”

“Are you coming to the show?”

“Yea, most of the people are inside. I may as well.”

“We’ll make it happen.”

The church building was packed; standing room only. Ten minutes before the show began, the MC introduced me and handed me the microphone.

The not so promising beginning ended well. I sold some books, more the second night than the first. Even Santa bought a book.

 

 

 

The Adventure Continues

Teena Myers (seated) is speaking to Lynda Deniger, author of the children series Salty Seas at the Meet the Author Event

My adventures in marketing have kept me so busy; I barely have time to write. At one time, I had NOLA’s faith blog posted two to three months in advance. Not anymore. I recently looked at my calendar and realized I would miss my weekly post if I didn’t write something soon. This is why I decided that I would never pursue publishing a book.

With the advent of social networks and the explosion of electronic readers publishing houses are doing less for their authors. Today, many authors design and purchase their own marketing materials, schedule their own events, and spend countless hours on the internet friending, emailing, maintaining websites and searching for readers who might review their book. I have an advantage in the marketing arena because I wrote about people. Some of those people are in ministry and have helped me spread the news about Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot.

My first event took place at New Horizon Calvary Chapel. Dorothi, leader of the Christian Ladies Book Club, invited me to speak to the club. I asked her to wait until my book was released. In the interim, the energetic and enterprising Dorothi turned the invitation into a major event with eighteen authors. The attendance was reasonable for a first time event. I sold more books than expected, but could not have done so without the help of Dallas.

I met Dallas when I became a contributing author to the magazine she published. The magazine is on hiatus, but she continues to maintain the magazine’s website until God resurrects the project.  Until then, she helps me when she can. Her help at Meet the Author was invaluable. I was able to leave the book table to chat with Ramona and learn how she sold 5,000 books in three years. I was also able to film Pastor John Raymond talking about The Bridge Radio which his church recently acquired. I returned to the book table and learned someone had paid for my $15 book with a $100. Fortunately, the event was over, and I didn’t need any more change.

Pastor Anthony Marquize holding his copy of Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot

The next marketing opportunity opened at White Dove Fellowship. Pastor Marquize invited me to make a presentation about Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot to his Wednesday night Bible study. I’d met Pastor Marquize when he was running for the United States House of Representatives. His story, which left me in awe of God, is told in the chapter titled “Friends”.

I left late and then realized the bridge was closed. I’d have to take the long way around. I hate being late. Service had started when I arrived. I sat on the pew with my box of books irritated at my tardiness and glad I had opted to read an excerpt from my book, which made it easier to control my tongue. Then Pastor Marquize preached the finest sermon on submission I have ever heard.

As service drew to a close, I set my books on the information desk for anyone who wanted to purchase a copy. I’d had trouble receiving credit card payments with my smart phone at Meet the Author and encountered the same problems. The kind customers dug though nooks in their purses for hidden treasure and others borrowed the needed cash. I now own an Ipad, which should solve the problem. My solution cost twice as much as I made that night. Welcome to marketing!

Where Can I Find Your Book?

Sabrina and her husband, Donald.

I have been delivering books to subjects of Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot for two and half months. At this writing, I have nine left to deliver. I suppose I could have saved myself a lot of money. None of them remembered that the release form they signed granting me permission to publish their stories entitled them to a free book. One man commented how kind I was to give him a copy. I didn’t deserve that compliment and reminded him that it was a debt.

My publisher’s marketing department is ahead of me in the marketing marathon. They are calling bookstores and coffee shops trying to set up events for me to sell books. I asked them to slow the pace. I want to satisfy my debt before I sell books at events. On the heels of that request, I scheduled three churches and three events; so much for a slower pace and accomplishing one goal at a time. Then hurricane Isaac blew through town disrupting my plans.

A week of no electricity, phone service and internet withdrawals later, I started rescheduling. Two churches rescheduled for October. One declined indefinitely. I was disappointed by the loss, until I received an invitation to address a joint book club meeting. Book clubs are guaranteed sales; churches are iffy. For a while, it appeared the hurricane also cost me an opportunity to sell books at an international woman’s conference in Houston – another disappointment. Until the speaker, who had invited me to put books on her product table, signed a consignment deal to sell them for me.

While I was signing the consignment deal, my cell phone rang. Sabrina wanted to know where she could find my book. Her husband had already brought twelve books to the Gideon’s International Conference in Dallas, and they wanted to share more books. I met Sabrina and her husband at a garage – where their tire was being replaced – thinking they wanted one or two books. They wanted ten books. I only had seven. Wish I’d left the house with more books that morning.

Three times this week, I’ve been asked, “Where can I find your book?” The average reader is unaware of the massive changes in the publishing industry and has misconceptions about authors. People think I am rich, and my book is in bookstores. The truth is: few authors are rich and in in most cases the author must create a demand before a bookstore will risk stocking his or her book. An author’s hope is that word of mouth will create a demand for the book compelling bookstores to stock the book. Until then, most sales by new authors are done at book events, speaking engagements and via internet websites.

If you are interested in Finding Faith in the City Care Forgot, check my schedule at teenalmyers.com and purchase a copy from me for $15 or visit Tate Publishing’s website to purchase a copy for $16.99. If you would like to make it easy for future purchasers, go to your local bookstore and order a copy. IF enough people do that, bookstores will be happy to put them on the shelf.