This afternoon I spent an hour in this hippest of ultra-hip hotels, the London EDITION. No, I have not won the pools, but I have been racking my brains to think of innovative marketing ideas for my books, and the address of the bank at the centre of the plot of “Fatal Forgery” was 6 Berners Street, and the banker himself lived next door at 7 Berners Street, and this hotel is now on the same site… So you follow my thinking: would the hotel manager be interested in the book?
Well, I can’t say yes or no yet, but he agreed to meet me this afternoon and seemed intrigued by the idea. I told him all about Sam and about magistrates’ constables and about what his part of town looked like in 1824 (for a while, his hotel’s block was the very edge of town – beyond it was countryside) and about Henry Fauntleroy. I probably talked the poor man’s ear off, to be honest. And then I suggested that he might like to have “Fatal Forgery” in his hotel’s library or gentlemen’s bar or snug, or perhaps in some of the swankier suites. And he said that it might be a nice gift for regular guests. And his secretary said that they sometimes hold after-dinner talks on topics relevant to the hotel. And I said that many of London’s visitors come to the city precisely because of its historical richness, and might like to know about a real crime that took place on the very site of their hotel. I then gave him a copy of the book, and he promised to read it. It was all very thrilling to talk about Sam and his adventures, and I’ll let you know if anything comes of it.
(And just to balance the books, if you will, I also contacted the hotel that now inhabits the building that was Great Marlborough Street magistrates’ court – Sam’s office. And despite three emails and one voicemail, the manager there was obviously not interested at all. But you have to try everything, as you never know which approaches will work and which will not. At least that’s how I got my husband. Only kidding.)
Nice to get an audience Susan – not everyone can even be polite enough to even acknowledge an enquiry. Strangely not everyone is interested in social history like you and I 🙂 but a ‘no thanks’ costs nothing.
You’re so right, Roy – the number of speculative emails I have sent and phone messages I have left (e.g. for the manager of the other hotel that I mentioned above)… I can only assume that these people are more busy than I can possibly imagine, as (despite running a one-person business and therefore having no administrative help) I always find time to reply to anyone who contacts me with a genuine enquiry, no matter how wacky.
Best wishes from Susan