Archive for the ‘Marketing Pains’ Category

Lady-like Promotion

Monday, July 12th, 2010

 

Peirene is a high maintenance young lady, she is ambitious and intelligent too. And she has understood one vital ingredient of aiming for no-2-launch-037success. Promotion.

 

I recently went to an evening of women writers and publishers. The topic of discussion was Self-Promotion. I was delighted to be invited and thought the topic interesting. Peirene on the other hand was unhappy from the start. “Why do we sit here and talk about Self-Promotion?” she hissed into my ear. “Men would never talk about Self-Promotion. They would talk about promotion, constructive promotion of a concrete commodity.” I told her to be quiet and sit still.

 

A few days later, however, she came to me with a great beam of a smile all over her face. “I’ve found us a Marketing Director,” she announced.  “You’ve done what?” She responded with some well targeted comments: “Well, you have to admit, you haven’t really succeeded in expanding the 24 hour day to a 30 hour day, have you?” I shook my head. “So, I guess there is a limit to what you alone can achieve for me?” I nodded. The nymph knew by then that she had me around her little finger. “Why don’t you meet Maddy Pickard for a coffee, “ she cooed. “She worked for the Arts Council and the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize.”

 

And so it came that Peirene acquired her first ever Marketing Director. My nymph is over the moon. Maddy has already ensured that we are totally up-to-date with the relevant prize entries and is currently introducing us to all the lit festivals. I am thrilled too because for  two days a week I have now someone with whom I can discuss publishing strategy. And jointly we are taking the twitter world by storm.

 

Ok, perhaps not by storm. But definitely in a steady lady-like  pace. Which can’t be said of another publisher, Quercus, who decided to appear on the twitter scene the same day Maddy and I made a bit to step up our presence. Quercus shot passed us like a comet, acquiring over 600 followers within a couple of hours. It took me a day to understand who was behind it – Mark Thwaite from ReadySteadyBook. He has just taken on the position of Digital Manager.

 

I am trying to hide this insider information from my nymph though. In case she gets wild ideas of wooing Mark away from Quercus to join Maddy and myself. I hate to tell her that we really would need to sell first a few more books in order to afford him. But, having said that, now with Maddy on board and a no-nonsense plan of promotion in place, Quercus should watch out. 

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Temptation

Saturday, July 3rd, 2010

 

Long term relationships are hard work. I’ve known my husband now for 17 years. So I guess a bit of extra marital fun ought to be allowed.no-2-launch-042 Don’t you agree? Just a bit of smiling and laughing and a twinkle in the eye. C’est tout. Nothing more.

 

He understands. It’s Peirene who’s kicking up a fuss.

 

On Thursday I went to a conference. Independent publishers meet head buyers of  Waterstone’s, Amazon, Book Depository, Foyles, and the book wholesalers Bertrams and Gardeners. Most of these gentlemen – yes indeed, the buyers are all men - I’ve met before. At first Peirene was very happy with the afternoon. The gentlemen remembered us from the meetings at the London Bookfair in April. She concluded with satisfaction that we must have made an impression. It was only when I started to talk to Choc Lit that my nymph became concerned.

 

Choc Lit publishes chick lit. Their logo is a chocolate heart. When they send out  pre-pub copies to booksellers they include a heart made of real chocolate. And their tag line, too,  goes straight to the heart: “Choc Lit – Where heroes are like chocolate – irresistible.” Call me fickle but it all sounds like huge fun. But don’t judge too quickly – Choc lit is no light weight. She’s only a year older than Peirene but has already managed to get to the top - WHSmith stocks her books at airports and she has sold 10 000 copies of her first title alone. A figure Peirene doesn’t even dare dream of.

 

In short – Choc lit has got what Peirene just hasn’t – mass appeal. I was quite taken.

 

On my way home from the conference I indulged in wild phantasies. How about sending out chocolate Peirenes or plastic ones to impress not only WH Smith but Asda and Tesco, too. I even was wondering if I should abandon European lit all together and go for the more shallow stuff.

 

That night Peirene made a huge scene, beside herself with jealousy, accusing me of betrayal, even adultery.  I consoled her and insisted that it was nothing really, just flirting. Of course I prefer her depth and artistry. “But” she wept, “given half a chance you hanker after superficial commercial success. How can you do that to me?”

 

My poor little darling, she’s still a bit young to understand that there’s nothing wrong with a little flirtatious encounter. I’d quickly tire of publishing books about sugar-sweet heroines and chocolate hunks. Although - frankly – such literature does pay the bills. And THAT is quite important in life.

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My Life with Marmite

Friday, March 19th, 2010

 

I hate Marmite. It’s horrible. It’s a joke not a spread, and the smell is most off-putting. When my husband eats it I don’t get near him. I also webite-home-122blame him and his Marmite obsession for the failing taste buds of our children. He force fed them the stuff at an early tender age and now they think they love it. But they can’t – they are half German after all. However I fear the damage has been done. My poor darling children are scarred for life.

 

A friend of mine leads a reading group. It consists of seven women, all mothers with children between 6 and 20 years old, some working full time, some part time. They read Beside the Sea and kindly invited me along to their discussion. My friend and one other woman could see the good in the book, the others I think would have preferred not to have read it. Bad writing, bad translation, bad blurb on the back and too expensive. That was their verdict.

 

My husband believes in Marmite. He even claims that it saved his life when he was eighteen cycling across the Continent. My mother-in-law, too, loves to sing its praises, especially its versatility – spread it on toast in the morning, turn it into a nice hot drink in the evening.

 

I am acutely aware that the reviewers of Beside the Sea – either newspapers or bloggers – have been predominantly men. They can see what I see in the text, namely a mesmerizing portrayal of a mind totally wrapped up in itself. I would even go a step further: Beside the Sea shows us how difficult it can be for a mother to understand that her perception of reality is very different to that of her children. Furthermore if she ever loses that understanding, her love becomes destructive.

 

When I read Beside the Sea for the first time, I felt an excitement at having discovered a writer who managed – successfully – to draw attention to the dark side of motherhood. I assumed other mothers would too. On Monday evening I understood that my assumption was wrong. Some would rather not have encountered the book.

 

Just like Marmite and me. In fact, it was Adriana, the translator of Beside the Sea, mother-of–three and total believer in the text, who had the brilliant Marmite idea when I told her about the reading group. “How strange”, she pondered, “that the people who like this book feel so passionate… and those that don’t are equally vehement in the other direction. You could run a whole campaign along the lines of the Marmite ads (you either love it or hate it).”

 

Fabulous publicity stunt! It might make me also reconsider the virtues of Marmite.

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Sex, Vodka and Bad Press

Saturday, February 20th, 2010

 

A dirty weekend – five days – Thursday to Monday that’s what I had. Yep! And I am a married woman. I spill the beans right here on the blog,webite-home-108small for family, friends and strangers to see. It has to be, I have no choice. It’s called a marketing strategy. Starlets sleep with directors, wanna-be writers with agents. And I bare my soul to you. For the sake of my books.

 

Last week’s book sales went really well – so well that “Beside the Sea” was heading for sell-out. And I ordered a reprint. This week sales have slowed down dramatically and in fact I now worry that I have ordered the reprint too early.

 

So, here comes my juicy story. On Thursday morning, at five o’clock in the morning,  I took my suitcase and called a cab and went to the airport where I met my companion. We boarded a plane and flew to St Petersburg, and went to a hotel room and drank Russian Champagne and Siberian Vodka and ate red Caviar. We did some kissing too. Then on the last day we walked hand and hand across the frozen Neva and boarded a plane and flew back. At Heathrow I took the exit to passport control while he rode the escalator to Flight Connections…out of the country and out of sight. It still feels like a dream.

 

Did I promise too much? I hope I have your attention now and you won’t forget my little story or Peirene and her books ever again. Bad publicity is better than none, right? Or at least that’s what I am learning. Because a dirty weekend is not my only shady news. Peirene Title No 1 has a bad publicity story too. A reviewer in the  FT didn’t like the book at all, and made that utterly clear in a tiny article. When I first saw it, it felt like being hit unexpectedly from behind and I wanted to ask, why did you need to publish this, if you didn’t like the book, couldn’t you just have ignored it? I am new small publisher, please, don’t immediately smash me to pieces. The interesting thing is, however, that I had almost as many people e-mailing me congratulations and wows and well dones responding to the FT article  as for the wonderful Guardian review. Only yesterday I received a message: “Just read the review in the FT. Congratulation. Well done. Will now go and read the book!”

 

So I guess I prefer bad publicity rather than none. Nothing can be worse than total silence. That’s one way of looking at it. Another way: Perhaps most people understand that bad publicity contains many half truths. If a reviewer tears up a book this says more about the reviewer than the book. Furthermore readers will be intrigued why the text arouse such strong reactions in the first place.

 

And finally, to underline my point about bad publicity not telling the whole truth: I admit, the companion was in fact my husband. I know … lame joke and sorry to disappoint. We did however meet at the airport and parted there again too. My husband likes flying around. That at least is true!

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