Issue 13 - October 2011 (PDF - Chipping Norton Times

As Literary Festivals become big business and celebrities flock to a big tent near you with memoirs, novels and cookery books,
Nicholas John (armed only with a spare biro), stands in line and begs the question -
WHAT PRICE A SIGNATURE?
A Short Story by Nicholas John
I once stood with my son for forty-five minutes in a
snaking line of parents and toddlers in order to get
Francesca Simon to sign six “Horrid Henry” paperbacks.
When we got back to the car, my son asked me who the
lady was and I explained (for the twelfth time) that she
was “the nice lady who wrote the stories.” He, frankly,
didn’t give a fig and it transpired he had been expecting
Miranda Richardson who had voiced the audio-books. Cue
heaven-wards look of exasperation.
For a brief minute it looked like gardening was to
become the new rock ‘n’ roll, but no, turned out it was
writing and literature. All hail the rise and rise of The
Literary Festival. They’ve sprung up all over the place (in
much the same way as you can’t move in the summer for
music festivals: find a farmer with a muddy field and
you’re away). We rush to Cheltenham and Hay-on-Wye to
hear our favourites reading from their latest tome, then
spend twenty minutes in line for a quick greeting and a
hallowed signature (and maybe even a photo on your
mobile). And all the while you just know you could pick up
the thing for half the price on Amazon. But, let’s face it,
there is a certain credence, a certain (dare I say it) style in
paying the full retail price and lugging that 400-page
hardcover all the way to the front of the queue to obtain
the authorial flourish
From the author’s point of view, selling books directly
at a book-signing or literary event, yields a greater return
than simply waiting for one’s publishing royalties to arrive
in the post. Reading a few extracts, meeting the public and
squiggling “all the best” for a half-hour is a better way of
shifting units than hoping someone in Waterstone's is
going to pluck your offering from the shelf. This tactic is
something that jobbing musicians have been employing
for a while: folk artists have long followed a tradition of
being “of the people” by communing with their audience
to discuss Arran knitwear (only kidding) and to sign copies
of their latest disc. In these days of Amazon and iTunes, it’s
a personal touch that seems to resonate, judging by the
number of acts that now take to the road surrounded by
boxes of CDs and DVDs. Obviously, Bono is not going to
stop for long round the back of Wembley Stadium to flog a
few more copies of ‘The Joshua Tree’ but in the world of
normal, it’s a practice that has become commonplace.
Publishers are increasingly seeing the manifold
opportunities in getting their charges in front of the paying
public. Independent bookshops are often effectively
invited to tender for book-signing appearances – a friend
successfully bid for Charley Boorman to do a three-hour
“meet and greet” in his shop and flavoured the shebang
by arranging a “ride-through” (forgive me if this is an
incorrect biking term) by the Oxford branch of the BMW
Bikers Club. And it paid off too – he shifted over eighty
books to a steady stream of customers (all signed by
Charley) and received much welcome publicity from the
whole event. So everybody goes home happy. It’s a winwin
situation.
At this point in proceedings, as I merrily tap away, I'm
sorely tempted to bang on a bit about how the likes of the
Cheltenham Literary Festival increasingly appear to be
relying on the pulling power of mainstream culture
(television, film, sport, politics), to put bums on seats,
rather than actual poets, authors or playwrights. Sorely
tempted, but then I realised that I would be forced to
instigate an argument with myself. It’s unlikely to be our
nation’s finest authors attracting the longest queues, it will
be the “celebrity writers," those who have successfully
plied their trade elsewhere and have gone back to write
about it. Surely (I would say with a smug smile), the
shedloads of fans who wait for hours to get Katie Price to
autograph her new, ahem, novel, are not there because
they think she's a brilliant writer? But then I would have to
confess my duplicity: Martin Jarvis signed three dog-eared
“Just William” hardbacks one year that had been my Dad’s
(well, I couldn’t get Richmal Crompton could I?) and my
wife "did" Brenda Blethyn, Terry Jones and Leslie Phillips in
two (expensive) days. Uh oh. Cue unsavoury incident
between pot and black kettle.
So far, so what? Big deal. "Celebrity" will sell
everything from books to game shows to fridges. And it’s a
two-way street: Sue Cook, the journalist and former BBC
television presenter (who in 2009 published her second
novel ‘Force Of Nature’ and is currently at work on her
third), readily admitted that having been a “face” on
television was undoubtedly helpful in securing her
publishing deal. So is it the notion of celebrity we actually
value? Are we getting our books signed because we like
the written work or because we’d like to meet the writer?
Authors rapidly grew wise to the individuals who would
arrive at the desk holding six or seven copies of the same
book and ask for a signature with no message or named
greeting – these were destined to be
CONTINUED OVER
35