Sometimes the Magic Works Read Online Free PDF Page A

enjoyed it, and I think you will, too. Take a look at the cover.
    SHE : Is it science fiction?
    ME : Uh.
    A.J .: No, it’s fantasy. You’ve read J. R. R. Tolkien, haven’t you? It’s like that, with elves and dwarves and magic, a quest and a coming of age, really terrific.
    A. J. went on from there at great length, trying to sell her the book on my behalf. He extolled its virtues and lauded my inaugural writing effort. He told her all about the different formats, the artwork by the Brothers Hildebrandt, and the importance of getting in on the ground floor of what he was certain would be a classic. He did everything but offer her coupons. I was enormously grateful. Even after all of this, I was still having trouble getting two words out in support of myself.
    Finally A. J. finished, having said everything he could to close the sale. I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers. I wanted this much worse than I had thought I would.
    The young woman put the book back down and smiled at me.
    â€œHave you written anything else?” she asked.
    She left without buying the book. No one else even looked at it for the rest of the time I was there. A. J. and I exchanged addresses and phone numbers at the close, and I drove home in a decided funk, my imagination kicking into overdrive. My fifteen minutes of fame were up. My career was at an end. My writing life was over.
    I thought like this because I had missed completely the point of the lesson I had just been taught.
    There would be other signings like this one—more than a few—where only a handful of people showed up and few, if any, books were sold. This would happen even after I had a dozen best-sellers in print. It would happen with
Star Wars: The Phantom Menace
. After three signings in Salt Lake City where the crowds were so large I spent almost five exhausting hours at each venue, I flew to California the next day for a midday signing at a Wal-Mart where not a dozen people showed.
    There is no help for it. It is an inescapable part of a writer’s public life. Sometimes, no matter who you are or how well planned the event, people stay home or go elsewhere. You learn to accept that every time you agree to make an appearance, things might not work out the way you would like. You do not take it personally, because there is no point in doing so. No one involved wants a book signing to be a failure. Not even those people who choose to stay home or go elsewhere want to see you disheartened or angry. They are simply making a choice about how to spend their time and money. Sometimes you get the benefit of their largesse; sometimes you don’t. You have to respect that the choice is theirs to make.
    Here is what is important about book signings. It is a lesson I have learned over the years, one that helps me deal with virtually any adverse situation I encounter. The point of book signings is not to make you feel good about yourself. It is not to rack up huge sales of your work while you stand by beaming benevolently on an audience of clearly enlightened readers. It is not even about advancing your career—at least, not in a direct sort of way.
    It is not, in fact, about you at all.
    Rather, it is about making a connection between readers and books. It is about making readers feel so enthusiastic about books that they cannot wait to come back and buy more—not just copies of your books, but of other authors’ books, as well. It is about generating a feeling of goodwill toward the bookstore and the staff. Mostly, it is about reassuring everyone that they did not waste their time on you.
    How do you accomplish this? It is unexpectedly easy, once you understand the dynamics of an autographing. Believe it or not, success or failure is entirely up to you. Your attitude will set the tone for everything that happens. You are the one in control. If you don’t understand this, stay home until you figure it out. It is your obligation to be cheerful