I sold a “Cheesesteak” to a nephew and to a Claremont member. (He’d been to Penn. “Is Pat’s in it?” he asked.) I sold an Air Pirates to another club member, who’d bought two of my other books. (“I now have read more of you than Tolstoy,” he said.)
Here are two other reactions: A poet/acquaintance at the French said of “Cheesesteak”, “I feel like a younger brother, tagging along behind you.” A noted economist whose locker is near mine but to whom I had barely spoken before said of the cover, “Looks interesting.” Then he related how, when he was a freshman at Swarthmore, a sandwich vendor had come through the dorm exclaiming, “Hoagies! Cheesesteaks!” and he’d no idea what was being offered. (He was from New York.)
Then there was the woman who came into the French, an ex-client. Aha! I thought. There’s a sale. But first I had to remember her name. When I did, I walked over to her table. “Oh, hi, Bob,” she said, “I’m reading your book. It’s a hoot.” A mutual friend had loaned her her copy, the rat!
I have been thinking of more marketing. I broke down and e-mailed Amazon to see what it would take for them to pick me up. An auto-reply said they would get back to me within four business days. That was six business days ago.
Plus I need to further tap the Claremont. My “Buy Bob’s Books!” sign has been banned and no one is asking when I sit there reading my book. How about having my sign printed on a t-shirt?