By Jody Worsham, co-author "Kin We're Not Related to"
All rights reserved for Author’s “Birth of a
Salesman”
After giving birth to a new book, I am like
those first time parents who greet you at the door and shove their new baby in
your face with "Look what I made”… only I add “Here, take it home with
you. It’s free.”
Wanda Argersinger, my co-author, keeps telling
me I have to SELL the book, not give it away, but I view it as spreading the
laughter about. If I give it away, they
will laugh and maybe tell their neighbors "No you can't borrow my book, buy
one of your own." So far I have
spread the laughter to Boston, Louisiana, Dallas, Blooming Grove, to my dentist, family members and one to a total stranger.
I am afraid I am not a salesperson. I don’t think I could sell life rafts on
the Titanic.
I don’t
mind driving around with “Kin We’re Not Related To” letters stuck to the rear window
of my suburban. I can wear a t-shirt with
the cover of our book splattered on the back.
I can even convert a normal white blazer into a “book jacket” with
pockets for the paperback books. I can create
a miniature cardboard outhouse and stack the books inside for a table display. I can drill a hole in the book and tie it to
the outhouse door and advertise it as a “clean humor.” I can drop the tailgate on the truck and sit
in the Wal-Mart parking lot, where people hawk puppies, with a big sign saying “Funny
Book for Sale”. I can dress up in a
white wig, cat eye glasses, purple polyester pant suit, and make a you-tube
book trailer with no problem.
It
seems I have a knack for creative marketing and no fear of stupidity; just don’t
ask me to come up to people and say “Buy my book.”
At the rate I am going, I cannot afford to
write a second book without taking a second mortgage on the farm. So far I am my own biggest customer at Create
Space Books. If my loan
goes through, I may single handedly move
“Kin We’re Not Related To” from 1,543,908 to #1 on Amazon’s Best Seller List. If everyone in your town has our book, it is
probably because I flew over in a helicopter dropping books out by the box full.
I really need to overcome my aversion to
self-horn-tooting and selling if for no other reason than so my children can go
out in public without a bag over their head.
There is only one thing to
do: hire a salesman named Daniel.
Then I can say “Book’em, Dan-o.”
