Another Small Step on The Learning Curve...
Yesterday evening, I had the very great pleasure of giving a lecture at the Beith Cultural and Historical Society centred on the historical events that inspired 'Fire and Sword'. A modest audience of 11 people turned up for the occasion - though I was fortunate enough to count the Honorary President of the Dorothy Dunnett Society amongst their number!
I had my archaeologist's hat on for the occasion. There was much reference to extant historical documents. Most references to the novel were left for the 'any questions' section, and I'm pleased to say there were quite a few, which was lovely.
During the evening, I only sold one book. But I signed five in books in total, and met six future readers. I say 'future readers,' because none of them had started reading the book as yet, though all of those who hadn't bought the book on the night had purchased them previously, most from the same venue. At a slightly higher price than normal, because a small cut of the proceeds was going towards the renovation of the very handsome early 19th century town hall which served as the venue for the lecture.
Those wanna-be writers of a more mercenary bent would have been disappointed, I'm sure, that more books didn't shift during the course of the night. Towards the end of the evening, however, I suddenly had this complete moment of epiphany. I've dedicated years to the writing of 'Fire and Sword'. The amount of hours it's taken me is quite literally incalculable. But as I spoke to those future readers - all interested and enthusiastic people who'd turned up on a (quite frankly) not very nice Friday night to hear me talk, it struck me that what I'm asking of my readers is something quite profound. Asking someone to stump up their hard-earned cash is one thing. Anyone can blow their money on a book which sits unloved on their bookshelf (or these days, their kindle) for years. But for someone to invest their precious time into reading an unknown book by an unknown author, well... I think that's one of the most precious gifts a writer can ever be granted. And to be granted time and lively conversation with people who are willing to do just that is a real, unmitigated joy.
In the run-up to last night's lecture, I was a bit on edge, a bit nervous. I know all too well what it's like to be presenting lectures in the cut-and-thrust arena of academia, where the audience are poised for the slightest slip-up, and peering close to spot whatever cracks there are in your armour so they can sink the daggers deep. So far, all my author events have been a different beast entirely.
Yeah, the remuneration may be nothing to speak of as yet, but it's a fantastic experience, and one I wouldn't trade for anything! Roll on the next one, which will take place in Paisley in a few weeks' time. Different venue, different Powerpoint presentation, but already I'm looking forward to it.
I had my archaeologist's hat on for the occasion. There was much reference to extant historical documents. Most references to the novel were left for the 'any questions' section, and I'm pleased to say there were quite a few, which was lovely.
During the evening, I only sold one book. But I signed five in books in total, and met six future readers. I say 'future readers,' because none of them had started reading the book as yet, though all of those who hadn't bought the book on the night had purchased them previously, most from the same venue. At a slightly higher price than normal, because a small cut of the proceeds was going towards the renovation of the very handsome early 19th century town hall which served as the venue for the lecture.
Those wanna-be writers of a more mercenary bent would have been disappointed, I'm sure, that more books didn't shift during the course of the night. Towards the end of the evening, however, I suddenly had this complete moment of epiphany. I've dedicated years to the writing of 'Fire and Sword'. The amount of hours it's taken me is quite literally incalculable. But as I spoke to those future readers - all interested and enthusiastic people who'd turned up on a (quite frankly) not very nice Friday night to hear me talk, it struck me that what I'm asking of my readers is something quite profound. Asking someone to stump up their hard-earned cash is one thing. Anyone can blow their money on a book which sits unloved on their bookshelf (or these days, their kindle) for years. But for someone to invest their precious time into reading an unknown book by an unknown author, well... I think that's one of the most precious gifts a writer can ever be granted. And to be granted time and lively conversation with people who are willing to do just that is a real, unmitigated joy.
In the run-up to last night's lecture, I was a bit on edge, a bit nervous. I know all too well what it's like to be presenting lectures in the cut-and-thrust arena of academia, where the audience are poised for the slightest slip-up, and peering close to spot whatever cracks there are in your armour so they can sink the daggers deep. So far, all my author events have been a different beast entirely.
Yeah, the remuneration may be nothing to speak of as yet, but it's a fantastic experience, and one I wouldn't trade for anything! Roll on the next one, which will take place in Paisley in a few weeks' time. Different venue, different Powerpoint presentation, but already I'm looking forward to it.