Writer's Grove

To Pre- or Not To Pre-Order

Yesterday I DISCOVERED SEKRIT PUBLISHING STUFF, which is generally what happens when people explain things to me. They have to do that a lot because I’m still such a newb at the publishing biz. I was going to make this a “Stuff They Never Told Me About Publishing” post, except that in this case the publishers actually told me something on a red phone in the white room with black curtains: Pre-orders are kind of a big deal.So big, in fact, that they lead one to fundamental questions in the Bardic vein—behold:

To pre- or not to pre-order, I question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the store to purchase
A mass market paperback, or to click mice
And wait for the mailman to deliver
A fine urban fantasy: to click, to wait
Three months: and by a wait to say we will
Molest the postman, and snatch the paperback
From out his huge sack? ‘Tis a pillaging
Devoutly to be wished. To wait, to read—
To read, perchance to snack; Aye, there’s the chips.
But in that precious book, what name is there,
What author hath scrawled his name if it
Be not Kevin’s? There’s the catch to
Waiting to purchase it in the store.
For who would bear the sneers and japes of teens,
The retailer’s sale, the cheesy rewards card,
The pangs of traffic jams, the checkout line,
The insolence of book snobs, and the chance
That they might not even have it in stock,
When he might get a balls-rad bookplate
For pre-ordering?*

Yes, that’s how big a deal pre-ordering is. It makes you write in blank verse…badly. And the Supa Sekrit I learned is that a large number of pre-orders does all sorts of sparkly things for an author and helps ensure the success of a book. I’m still a bit unsure on the mechanics of why this is so, but here’s what my non-business brain has been able to absorb: A book with big pre-order numbers indicates to dudes who buy stuff for bookstores that a certain title has “buzz” or “cachet” or “more legs than a bucket o’ chicken.” They all want a slice o’ the financial pie that leggy title represents, so they will order more copies of that title than a book without any legs. More copies of a book on the shelves means that Random Literate People are more likely to spot it as they browse, and if they spot it, they’re one hundred percent more likely to buy it than if they never see it because there’s only one lonely copy there cloaked in shadow near the floor. Makes sense, kind of.

The problems this system represents for a debut author are manifold. First, I have to pimp myself shamelessly, but I’m only capable of doing it shamefully, so that’s a huge therapy bill right there. Second, people who like to browse bookstores and get a little high on all the ink and glue are not going to want to pre-order. (And who can blame them?) Third, it’s tough to convince people who aren’t familiar with my work to commit to buying a copy.

Nevertheless, I’m going to click that mouse, sniff that glue, and pay that therapy bill. Are you ready? Here’s my shameful self-pimpage: If you pre-order HOUNDED by February 15 and let me know about it, I’ll send you a HOUNDED bookplate that’s not only signed but personalized as you wish. No proof needed—I’ll take your golden word. But what I will need is an email sent to kevin@kevinhearne.com that says you pre-ordered, your snail mail address, and what you’d like me to write on your bookplate(s). <—Whoa. Did you catch that optional plural? Yes, it’s true! Pre-order more books as gifts (because what says “I love you!” better than a book about an ancient Druid living in Arizona?), and I’ll send you a signed, personalized bookplate for every one! Plus I will drink a beer, which I would have done anyway, but this time I’ll do it in your honor. Here’s what the bookplates look like—sticky on one side and not on the other:

They will fit on the inside front cover, title page, wherever, and you’ll get them before the book arrives at your house! So, to sum up: Pre-order HOUNDED wherever you like before February 15 and then send me an email with your address and what you’d like me to write on your bookplate(s). I will personalize ’em for you, send ’em before the book gets there in April, and drink a beer in thy sainted name. Thank you, sincerely.

*May the literary gods have mercy on my soul for doing this to Shakespeare: Amen.