I said I’d try and update you all on the show today if I had time… UNFORTUNATELY, I have time. Why is that unfortunate? Because I’m stuck. I made it to Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario today, fully intending to drive another 200 kilometres or so before finding a motel. But when I got here, I found the highway closed due to poor driving conditions. Now, poor driving conditions is something I’m used to in this neck of the woods. Let me illustrate. Pictured below is the car I’m driving (borrowed from my Dad because mine broke down just days before I had to leave for Ontario). This is what it should look like:
And here’s how it looked after 3,000 kilometres of driving across the prairies and into Toronto:
What’s all that crap on the side of the car? I’ll give you hint…
Toronto SUPERSHOW
January 5th, 2009
Supershow
January 4th, 2009
I know that many of you have been checking in to see how the show is going and you’re disappointed at the lack of information. It’s not that I’ve been lazy or negligent, exactly, but rather exhausted. Every day I stand at my booth for 11 hours saying, “…it’s about a trip I did from Canada to Panama. (Pause.) It talks about the trip, obviously, and a few things I learned on the road, but mostly it’s just supposed to make you laugh. (Pause.) But that’s not a money back guarantee. Ha, ha.” Now, I’m not being aloof and artificial. I’m merely conserving energy. When people take a genuine interest in me or the book, then I switch to “actual conversation” mode. I’ve met many interesting people, and hopefully I’ll have a more detailed update later today or tomorrow. Then I drive all the way back for the Calgary Show. Before I leave you, though, to answer your questions regarding sales figures - I think I’m doing as well as I absolutely need to in order to pay for my trip out East. Beyond that, I can’t say. I’m happy I came.
Opportunity
December 31st, 2008
While setting up my booth at the Toronto International Motorcycle SUPERSHOW, I was delighted to find myself situated right beside Mark Richardson, author of “Zen and Now: On the Trail of Robert Pirsig.” He and his family were setting up and cleaning off his Suzuki DR 600 that he rode through the pages of his popular book. When I learned that he was also an editor with the Toronto Star and a personal friend of Ted Simon, I realized that an opportunity had fallen into my lap… an opportunity to embarrass myself.
Moving out
December 25th, 2008
Fortunately for me, generating sales at a busy store on the Saturday before Christmas is like shooting fish in a barrel. Aside: does anyone else wonder how easy it is to shoot fish in a barrel? I suppose it depends on the concentration of fish. For example, if there’s three fish in a 500 gallon drum filled with water, that would be difficult/impossible… unless the fish themselves are HUGE. OK, back to the post. The point is, I had a great event at the Sunridge Chapters in Calgary. I did so well, in fact, that the evening may have paid all my fuel costs from Calgary to Toronto. You see, having a huge inventory of books, I seldom think in terms of dollars and cents anymore. I think, “Alright. I need to sell x number of books to pay for a replacement vehicle for my car that died.” (That number, by the way, is around 300 depending on the vehicle and on where the sales come from. Amazon only pays me $1.00 per book, but I get more if people buy direct from me.) So, let’s break this down and see where I’m at. This is me posing with the second street bike I ever owned. (I sold it to my dad, just as I did with the first street machine. Thankfully, Dad has a sentimental streak and managed to keep the 82 Honda. One day, he or I may just restore it to it’s former glory. I’m rambling again.)
The point is, beneath my feet is the approximate number of books that I need to sell at the SUPERSHOW in Toronto to pay for the trip. I won’t really make money, mind you, but I won’t regret taking the risk. Is this a reasonable amount of stock to move? Well, judging by previous sales records at the Calgary Motorcycle Show, yes. I think I can move this much product. (The Toronto show is bigger than the Calgary show by a significant margin.)
Vulnerability
December 18th, 2008
I was not impressed. For our Christmas party in Banff, we squeezed into a tiny booth at a fondue restaurant without predicting the disparity between cost and quality of experience. The company and conversation were pleasant. The food was nice, too, but not nearly as nice as one might expect after a glance at the bill. I left rubbing my eyes and smelling of canola oil. I stayed in Banff for the night because I had a book signing the next day in Cascade Plaza - the same venue where I produced the “best signing ever” at my last appearance. The next day, having brought along no change of clothes, I struggled back into the pants I had recently shrunk in the wash (how I failed to notice this the night before is beyond me. Perhaps I merely wanted to believe they still fit) and walked to the store. There I sat with my pant hems creeping towards my knees and my clothing from the night before still reeking like a fry cook after a 12 hour shift. And no one came to my table. Try as I might to appear approachable, people steered clear of me. I felt very vulnerable. I suddenly found myself weary of promotion, doubting in fact, whether I should even bother to stay. I did (I’m stubborn) and I closed out the session with moderate success, after all. And then, walking to the highway, I hitch-hiked home to Canmore. What a fitting end to the episode.