Four Things I Learned From A Poorly Signed Book

Yesterday, I was at a used book sale. I saw the word ‘cat’ on the spine of a fantasy book and that intrigues me (because I’m a cat person), so I pulled the book loose and made a surprised sound when I recognized the cover. The man next to me noticed my sound and like most men, he decided to use that as an opening to start a conversation with me.

“Good book?” he asked.

I was very sorry he had noticed my sound, that I had made a sound, and that I had picked up the book at all. What followed was a conversation that made me feel sick for the rest of the day. It wasn’t the man’s fault. It was just poor timing that he stumbled into me while I was having a reaction to a book that taught me so much because of the mistakes contained in it before the book itself even started.

You see, I’m a novelist. I’m not a big-time novelist or the queen of everything book-related, but I sell my books in person at various events, my books are sometimes in stock in local bookstores, and I sign books when I sell them at fairs. The book I was holding was one I had bought before, written by another local author (who I have never met), and the copy I had purchased from a used bookstore years before was the perfect example for me of what not to do at a book signing. I never read the book. I put my copy in a free library because the lesson learned by the front flyleaf was a thick enough lump for me to swallow. You have my permission to reap the benefits.

Here was what I learned from the poorly signed book:

1. The Signature

She signed only her first name with a heart over the i. As soon as I saw it, I flagged that as a major mistake. As a novelist, your signature needs to be exciting, better than a movie star’s. It shouldn’t be anything casual. It should not look like someone wrote a little note to Aunt Fey and signed it ‘With love from Nephew Paul to mark a special Christmas’. It should look like the AUTHOR’S SIGNATURE. It should be something as intimate as a kiss in the front of the book so that it raises the book’s value with its beauty if by nothing else. It should be something so dazzling that if anyone picks up the book in a used book setting they are tempted to buy it because the author’s signature is so fascinating.

Seeing the horrific and typical heart over the i gave me the motivation I needed to develop a signature unlike anything else. My signature is made of letters and words, but it looks like a swan floating on a lake with a moon reflecting on the surface of the choppy water. My uppercase S lets me make a swan and my uppercase O makes the moon.

2. The Ink

The book was signed with a blue ballpoint pen. Granted, the author may have been forced to sign the book in a situation where that was the best pen available. However, since I found the book in a used bookstore, I find it hard to believe that she was chased down by an adoring fan… who afterward let the book go to a used bookstore before the book was five years old. I think it was signed at an event where a lot of pressure was put on those attending to purchase the book because the author just read a big chunk of it and everyone else was buying one. However, using a blue ballpoint pen is bananas. Those cost ten cents each and the ink in them doesn’t make anything look very special. I get a thick marker with a metallic shine in it. As an author, I'm trying to make my reader feel special. Blue ballpoint only makes people feel special if it's at the bottom of a check.

3. The Reader’s Name

This author messed up the spelling of the reader’s name and crossed it out angrily to write the correct name under it. Yeah… I don’t do that and if you’re a writer, you shouldn’t either. When I take someone’s name, I confirm the spelling with them carefully, treating them like the spelling of their name is important. I haven’t had to do it, but if a reader told me that I spelled their name wrong, I’d snap the book shut, get them a fresh book, and triple-check that I got it right before I put my pen to paper a second time. Obviously, screwing it up would suck, because I would not be able to sell that book, and let’s be honest, no one makes a dazzling sum at a book signing because the markup on books isn’t much. After the event, I’d take the book home, pull out my scalpel, and carefully extract the offensive page, and then I’d give the book away as a promotional item. It would teach me a heck of a lesson.

4. The Inscription

Another problem with the signing was that the author did not write a sentence to the reader. That made it seem kind of impersonal and like the author thought that because she had finished writing a novel and was sitting at a book signing event that she could just slap off her name and everyone would think she was amazing. This is clearly not true since I have seen multiple copies of her book in the secondhand book circuit since this book came to my attention. Honestly, I have half a mind to go to the free library I dropped my copy off in and see if it’s still there.

Back to the inscription… If you have even a tiny conversation with the person who’s buying your book, there are loads of things you can write as part of the inscription that are encouraging, inspiring, and unique identifiers. When they pick up your book in the future, they’ll open it and the sentence will trigger their memory and they’ll remember that they met you and that was one of life’s moments, like riding a Ferris wheel or breathing helium. It will be something they’ll remember with a smile.

And yes, I’m aware that even creating that special moment with the people who buy my books will not keep my book out of second-hand circulation forever, but for the time being - I’ve yet to see a used version of any of my books for sale.

As for the guy at the book sale. I had to admit to him that I never read the book because the reviews online indicated that the book was very sexual and that just wasn’t my thing. If he was hitting on me, my comment poured cold water on him. Poor thing.