Taking Sam to Hart’s

For some time now, I have been hoping to get Sam and Martha into a fifth – a fifth! – bookshop.  I know from hard, perhaps even bitter, experience that the big chains are a no-go for self-published, unknown authors.  I have spent a great deal of energy on trying to convince my local branches of both Waterstones and WH Smith to feature my books on their “local interest” shelves, but it seems that even these are furnished by head office stock control elves, so I have given up on that for now.  But one independent bookshop in my local area has been on my radar for some time: Hart’s Books in Saffron Walden.

Saffy – as I am afraid we call it in our house – is a delightful small town about eighteen miles from where I live.  In the summer I go there most Sundays as the stoker (back half – the one who does all the hard work) on our tandem, as it is a lovely cycle ride.  Over the years I have seen Hart’s (founded in 1836) falter, fail, close – and then reopen with great success in 2016.  On the publication of “Portraits of Pretence” and then “Faith, Hope and Trickery”, I emailed the bookshop to ask to be considered, and heard nothing.  I resolved to go in in person, to plead my case and hand over a book.  But every time I was in the town, I was sweating – sorry, glowing – profusely from my cycling exertions and far from the image of a trustworthy author of respected historical crime fiction.  And then yesterday (I know, not a Sunday, but the weather was so good that we did it anyway) we cycled into Saffy and I decided to take a chance, sweaty and un-booked though I was.

And reader, the shop’s manager could not have been nicer.  He listened to my tale as I glowed gently by the front desk, and immediately agreed to take five books – a copy of each – into stock.  A customer was waiting to pay and said that the series sounded perfect for him and that he would “haunt Hart’s” until they arrived and then buy one immediately.  Given my recent experience in David’s in Cambridge, I am beginning to see that standing by the till and catching people with their money in their hand is the way to sell books.  The upshot is that, from tomorrow (after our usual tandem ride, with the addition of a pannier containing five books and a handful of bookmarks), Sam will be stocked in his fifth bookshop and third county (Essex).

The fastest sale in the west

Last week I told you about the fabulous window display in David’s bookshop in Cambridge.  But if you peer closely, you will see that something is missing: the first book of the series, “Fatal Forgery”.  Of this particular blue volume, the shop was – shock! horror! – out of stock.  So I emailed them to point out this dire state of affairs and they asked me to drop off two more copies.

When I was next in town, I did just that.  The nice chap with whom I deal – a motorcycle enthusiast called Brian – was in the antiquarian department of his shop chatting to two American ladies.  He broke off his conversation to say hello and I handed over the two books.  “What’s that?” asked one of the ladies, holding out her hand.  “Historical fiction?  London?  Regency?”  She read the first page.  “I’ll have it!”

In short, I watched a bookseller make a 100% profit on my book before my very eyes, and was delighted to do so.  If I could immediately sell half of the books I deliver, I’d be laughing all the way to the bank.

Flying(ish) off the shelves

I’ve been a bad blogger, I know, but I have an excuse: I’ve been away on holiday.  I spent a week in Galle, in southern Sri Lanka, and I can report that – lovely though it is – Sam will not be visiting it in future books.  Although Ceylon was a British “possession” in the 1820s, I can’t imagine Martha being keen on her husband sailing off for distant tropical lands – and Galle was a pretty rackety place back then, with more formal policing confined to Colombo, nearly seventy miles to the north.

Now that I am back in Blighty, I can update you on the launch of “Faith, Hope and Trickery”.  After a tense time when my original order from CreateSpace nearly failed to show up before my departure on hols, the box of books finally arrived an hour before I left and my husband was roped in as delivery boy to take the reserved copies to my two local bookshops, Heffers and David’s.  Here they are in prime position in the window of David’s – note their wonderful promotion of me as an “local (award-winning) author”, referring to my Discovered Diamonds award for “Portraits of Pretence”!

A couple of lovely reviews – both stating that they think “FHT” is the best of the Sam series – have appeared on Amazon (you can get a taster on the Reviews page).

And I have just worked out my sales figures for the Kindle edition, and in March 2018 (the month of launch) I sold eleven e-copies.  Paperback sales are harder to calculate, as the CreateSpace website is not updated instantly, but I think we’re looking at ten copies sold via Amazon in March, plus the ten delivered to Heffers and the three to David’s.

Meanwhile, the withdrawal symptoms have started already, and I am turning my mind to “Plank 6” – I’m researching the history of the Cayman Islands, and of plant-based poisons…

The man from WH Smith, he say…

…no.  As you may remember, I took my latest book – “Susan in the City: The Cambridge News Years” – into our local branch of WH Smith.  They weren’t keen on considering the Plank books when I took those in, but I thought that a book by a local author, a collection of columns that had appeared in the local paper, might have local appeal.  I had visions of a lovely yellow display alongside the newspaper…  The manager said that he would put the proposal to head office, and perhaps then I should have heard the distant knell of doom.

Anyway, I called in today and was told that, in the “current challenging book market”, WH Smith does not want to take on any new books until the start of their new financial year, in September.  I nodded politely, but inside I was saying, “Whaaaaaaat?”.  As everyone in the book world knows, physical books – as opposed to e-books – have made a strong recovery in recent months: indeed, sales through bricks-and-mortar shops rose by 7% in 2016.  And as for the idea that WH Smith is not going to put out any new titles on their shelves until September – I suspect that this is piffle.  If that’s really the case, they’re going to kick themselves for missing out on the new Ian Rankin paperback (due out on 15 June) and the new Jamie Oliver hardback cookbook (due out on 24 August).

Mind you, I can see how taking on my title in one branch might be too great a risk for head office.  I was offering them five copies, with them keeping 35% of the cover price, on a sale or return basis.  So if their copies did not sell, they could return them to me in any condition and not pay my invoice for £25.97.  Thank goodness they spotted that threat to their commercial survival – and handed any sales to the other two local bookshops that are stocking it, and to the online retailer they really dread.  Harrumph.

(And in case you think this is simply an enormous bunch of sour grapes, it’s not the refusal that has annoyed me: it’s the dissembling.  It’s the same as the email I received earlier this year from a small airline that I use regularly, informing me that, “in order to improve the customer experience”, they will no longer be offering free drinks on their flights.  We all know they’re doing it to reduce costs and increase profits – and why not? they’re a commercial airline, not a charity – so why the mealy-mouthed not-justification?)

Bookmark bookkeeping

They’re done!  And here!  I have now taken delivery of 250 thick card bookmarks, printed in colour on both sides – quite the Rolls Royce of bookmarks, my dears:

I have already given ten each to the two Cambridge bookshops that stock the Sam Plank series – Heffers and G David.  I know that sounds a bit mean, as we imagine that bookmarks should be given away by the fistful, but – and I know plenty of you are interested in the commercial side of things – let me give you the figures.

The design of the bookmarks cost £79.  The printing and delivery cost £25.74, making a total of £104.74 for this first batch of 250 – which works out at 42p per bookmark.  Goodness, that’s a lot: perhaps I should have done those calculations before ordering!  But for subsequent orders – i.e. without design costs – it comes down to 10p per bookmark, if I order the same quantity each time.  The tricky thing, of course – all but impossible, I fear – will be to gauge whether they pay off in terms of extra sales.

Every bookshop in the land

I can imagine that you think I am just sitting around, gazing out of the window and eating bonbons.  Far from it.  My latest project – apart from “Plank 5”, of course – is to figure out how to get the Sam Plank books into more bookshops.  My ploy thus far has been to woo individual booksellers with silver-tongued emails and then go in person with a delivery of books.  This is (a) time-consuming, and (b) not practical on a country-wide basis, much as I would love (now here’s a retirement project) to visit every independent bookshop in the UK.  And so I have gone the traditional route.

As I understand it, the majority of booksellers – from the small to the large – buy their stock from book distributors.  King among the UK book distributors is Nielsen.  They get their stock, for selling on to the bookshops, direct from publishers.  And, through a combination of dogged determination, charm, begging and a gradual sea-change in the attitudes to indie publishing, I have managed to persuade Nielsen to recognise me as a publisher.  I have a login and everything.  And associated with me as a publisher are the four Sam Plank novels.

In theory, therefore, a book buyer can go into any bookshop in the land and, when they ask for a Sam Plank novel and find the shelves bare (apart from in Heffers and Davids in Cambridge, Toppings in Ely and Daunts in Cheapside, of course), demand that the bookseller order one for them.  Said bookseller then logs into his Nielsen account, looks up Sam Plank and voilà! there he is.  Order is placed, book arrives and reader is satisfied.

What I am a little hazy on is what precisely happens in between.  I know that when Nielsen receives an order for Sam Plank they will forward it to me – his publisher – for fulfilment.  And I know that I am responsible for pronto delivery to the bookshop that has ordered him.  However, I do not know who has to pay for postage; I am assuming that I do.  And, more critically, I do not know what royalty I get from Nielsen-generated orders.  This is uncharacteristically lax of me, I know, as I am usually pretty hot on royalty levels and all that.  But in all honesty the Nielsen website is so (whisper it) unfriendly that I simply couldn’t find definitive answers to my questions, and so I have decided to wing it: I’ll wait for my first statement from them and work it out from that.

Of course, to get a statement I will need to have an order or two.  And so far: zilch.  I am torn between wanting at least one order so that I can see how the system works, and terror that I might get dozens of orders for multiple copies that I am entirely unequipped to fulfil.  After all, in order to supply copies I need to order them from America (we’ve been through this before), and I keep only limited copies in readiness.  As ever, I’ll keep you posted.

Seeking storefronts for Sam

As regular readers will know, the Sam Plank books appear in the flesh – well, the paper, ink and glue – in three physical bookshops: Heffers and G David in Cambridge, and Toppings in Ely.  (Who knows whether they will appear in the new Amazon store in Seattle!)  They were also stocked in Hammicks Legal Bookshop in Fleet Street until that closed down a few months ago – the closure was nothing to do with Sam, I am assured.  And astonishing though the reach of Amazon is, there is nothing to compare – for authorly satisfaction and browsing availability – to having physical books on a shelf in a bookshop.

I have not forgotten that some months ago I hinted that I was pursuing a third stockist here in Cambridge – negotiations are still ongoing, as is my fear that naming them might jinx it, but if it happens you will not go untold, I promise you.

And now I am thinking about new representation in London.  The problem is (and not just with London) that the big chains are not interested in self-published authors.  Their concern is two-fold: self-published stuff might be rubbish, and self-published stuff is not supplied via the usual book distribution services.  Both fair points, and too tricky for me to overcome alone, so I don’t worry about the big chains.  But finding places that are not unexpectedly connected with the big chains is tricky – I once approached Hatchards and had a lovely long (and I thought promising) chat with a manager, only to be told at the end that they’re part of Waterstones and do not have much ordering independence.

Several people have suggested Daunt Books, and so this is my latest venture.  I have sent a hello email to their Marylebone shop, with lovely (and I hope tempting) pictures of the book covers, and asking whether I could call in with samples when I am in London the week after next.  If I haven’t heard from them by next week, I’ll try the dreaded telephone call, when you have to fight your way through successive layers of staff to get to the crime buyer, without uttering the call-ending words “my self-published book”…

Sam storms the local press

Just a quick post today – I wasn’t planning to write anything, but then the features editor of our local paper, the Cambridge News, emailed to say that an article I had written for her about “Worm in the Blossom” would be going in the paper tomorrow (Friday 30 October) and was already online.

When I was writing the piece – she asked me to do it, because I am a regular columnist at the paper – I made sure to cover several key points:

• “Worm in the Blossom” is the third in a series – so there are actually three books you can buy
• there will be four more books, so even more ways to spend your money on Sam
• writing is a hard but rewarding process – this author (I tried to imply) does huge amounts of research both at her desk and on foot, and so deserves every penny of the £7.99 she charges per book (and remember, there are three available and four more to come…)
• you can buy all three books now in three local bookshops.

(I also wrote exactly to her specification: the right number of words, with the required photos at the preferred resolution.  But you knew that anyway: always give an editor what she wants.)

I’ll keep an eye on sales, and if I get panicked calls from bookshops tomorrow afternoon, desperate to stock up after stampedes of eager readers have stripped the shelves, I’ll let you know.  And if it makes no difference at all, I’ll let you know.  So hard for the self-published author to predict what will prompt sales, if anything apart from dumb luck.

The countdown has begun

Only two days to go!  Can’t tell you how excited we are in our house – well, apart from the cat, who just yawns widely and ignores us.  Friday is the Big Day, but in the true spirit of self-publishing, I have had to work out what needs to be done in advance in order to hit that deadline.

Today I cycled into town with my deliveries for the two local bookshops who are kind enough to stock Sam; I could have delivered them on Friday, but they might not have time to process them on the day, and it seems a bit rude to hang around and watch them, so I figured that with a couple of days’ lead time I could pretty much guarantee being able to go in on Friday and see “Worm in the Blossom” on the shelf.  I have also sent out a few review copies, because if people are kind enough to agree to review the book, it seems only polite to let them have it a bit ahead of time.  And one kind person has offered to have me as a guest blogger on her book blog on Friday, so I needed to plan for that.

The appearance of the e-Worms is happening gradually, and I am reasonably hopeful that they will all be in position by Friday.  Amazon was obviously in a high gear this time round, and their listings are already live, while Smashwords is taking a bit longer – but then it does distribute its catalogue to all sorts of places, like iTunes.

So what is left to do on Friday?  I shall be updating this blog, of course, and adding all the purchase links to this and to my work blog.  I shall be doing that guest blog – I’ll give you the link when I have it – and of course snooping round the bookshops to see “Worm” on the shelves.  And I shall be turning my mind to “Plank 4” – I’ve already been jotting down ideas…

Helping Sam to storm the bookshops – or not

As you may know, I had a Major Triumph last week when Toppings in Ely, a fabulous independent bookshop with perhaps the best views from its windows, agreed to stock “Fatal Forgery” and “The Man in the Canary Waistcoat”.  Buoyed with enthusiasm, I decided to think a bit more about real bookshops as well as online ones.  One of my real bookshops is G David in Cambridge, and as we were chatting they suggested that I could try to get my books listed on Hive, which – bit confusing this – is a website that lists books in local bookshops.  You can buy them online, and then collect them from the bookshops.  An interesting hybrid approach.  But Hive also stocks books on their own account, and – as they are obviously imaginative people – I contacted them and explained my plight.  Is there any way, I asked, that my CreateSpace self-published books could be listed on Hive, with me personally fulfilling any orders that come in (and passing on a commission to Hive, of course).

And back came this reply, which I am sharing with those of you who have also been bitten by the self-publishing bug, as it is the clearest explanation I have read of the current situation for self-published authors here in the UK (or, at least, not in the US): “CreateSpace is a publisher that is based in the US that has not yet set up a UK based distributor.  This means that we are unable to consider any title published by CreateSpace because we are simply unable to source CreateSpace titles at this time.  Currently there’s only two ways that we can purchase CreateSpace titles:

1. You buy copies from them, list yourself on Nielsen as the distributor and then our orders would come directly to you.
2. You reprint using a new ISBN, list yourself on Nielsen as the distributor and then our orders would come directly to you.”

Neither of those options appeals to me at the moment (the first would definitely knock out any profit I could make, what with postage from the US and then postage on to buyers, while the second would cause confusion with two ISBNs per title), but it is certainly useful to have a clearer understanding of the distribution (or non-distribution) of self-published titles in the UK at the moment.  What we need, of course, is a CreateSpace UK – which has been promised for years.