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Five hints to harvesting trade show success

It was a glorious autumn day, perfect for harvesting or anything else that didn’t involve being behind a table inside a conference room. Yet, that’s where I was, at a conference, waiting and hoping to promote my story, my services and … yikes … myself as author, publisher, expert worth hiring… The creative side of me was screaming to go for a walk on the beach or hide at home with – you got it – a good book. The business part of me, however, knew this was the perfect place for me. I was at a conference of library personnel, folks who have dedicated their careers to the love and promotion of books, reading, writing, and all those things I, too, am passionate about. But how to connect with them, with only a display table and a few moments of their time to work with?

To clarify, the event of which I speak is not a retail show, where the goal is to promote and sell. This is a trade show, where the realistic goal is to connect, share details, swap contact information and ideally, begin an ongoing relationship that will result in a sale or engagement at a later date.

Here is my five-point checklist:

1. Start with realistic expectations. As mentioned, trade shows are rarely also retail events. You will not recoup your investment in direct sales that day. I view my trade show fee and time as investments in promotion and business development, a business course and living advertisement all in one. When I measured my success in sales, I would leave frustrated and defeated. When I measured my success in quality (not quantity) of engagaments and knowledge gained, I have yet to post a fail.

2. Get in touch with organizers and, if possible, participants in advance. Touch base with organizers on estimated participant numbers and demographics, ask for insights on what materials and pitches to prepare, be mindful for hints on what would make good giveaways or prizes. Offer invitations or goodies for the conference bags, something to make participants feel welcome at your table before they arrive.

3. Don’t sweat the decor. Yes, put some effort into making your table look inviting, neat and unique, but don’t spend thousands of dollars or kill your back lugging trunkfuls of bling to spruce up your space. Meaningful engagements will come from the sincerity of your presence and substance of your information. Spend time and money on your pitch instead. Ultimately, if you can identify quickly what you provide and it’s a fit for what they’re looking for, you’ll have them at hello, no matter how much time and money you’ve spent on matching table linens or display racks.

4. Offer a takeaway, no strings attached. We all love gifts, and while we as writers can’t have too many pens or notepads, imagine as well something unique that shares your message, invites a callback, and catches their attention. I offer pocket reading kits: small shimmery bags with two excerpts from my books, a business card and a snack: could be a tea bag, a sucker for kids’ giveaways or an individually-wrapped piece of chocolate … just not in the summer when my gear has to sit in a hot car, I’ve learned the hard way. Info sheets, with a small bio, clear list of services, and our company story are also helpful. If there is little time to talk, offering a sheet is a pitch to go; if conversation has been good, the sheet is a reminder for when they arrive home. Whatever you choose, offer it up freely and with a smile, even when the occasional crank snaps ‘I don’t like tea,’ and fires your gift back in the basket like she’s been bitten. Those who partake will remember the experience of your interaction, not your pitch, so be sure you treat these gifts as just that – gifts. If they start a conversation or provide an opportunity to share your pitch, all the better.

5. Be open. What looks at first glance to be a small or slow event could yield that one contact you’ve been waiting for. The surly guy who initially stares at you like you’re contagious may hear something that causes him to blink, nod and share. We don’t know the stories of those who pass by, so park the judgement and be first and foremost a caring human being. Offer a greeting and kind word, and don’t take it personally when there is no response. Move on and keep at it. There is no predicting the future, but sharing positive energy in the present always leads to something bright, even if it’s just that moment.

In this age of technology, trade shows remain a rare opportunity to engage with people face to face. As with any business function, it can be a chore, or it can be an opportunity. As challengeing as it can be sometimes, I cling to the latter. I have enough chores waiting for me at home. So, when the next trade show invite surfaces, check your schedule and budget, and if it works, say yes! Then breathe, imagine, plan, and get out there. It only takes one key conversation to move your business to the next level.

Thanks for reading.

Jennifer Hatt is author of the Finding Maria series and partner in publishing company Marechal Media Inc.
www.FindingMaria.com

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To Boldly Go: 5 lessons on book promotion

My love of Star Trek is not pure escape any more. It has taught me about the great unknown that is book marketing. For example:

1. Look big, especially if you’re small
Think of wee Clint Howard’s character in The Corbomite Manoeuvre. For those of you who haven’t had the pelasure, the Enterprise crew face destruction from a stern, imposing alien. Meeting face-to-face, the crew discover a tiny childlike creature who only wanted some company, using a giant puppet to appear more fearsome. It certainly got their attention.
For authors and publishers promotiong books, our ‘imposing alien’ is a professional storefront: engaging and efficient website, impressive social media presence, professionally designed and produced print materials, consistent and relevant blog posts … you get the idea. Today’s technology and range of services means our imposing appearance is limited only by our imagination and courage.

2. There is no such thing as no-win
This lesson is courtesy of James T. Kirk and the Kobayashi Maru. To recap, the Kobayashi Maru was a training simulation mandatory for all Starfleet command cadets, programmed to be ‘no-win’ to gauge their ability to handle inevitable destruction. Kirk was the only cadet to ‘beat’ the simulation. He tampered with the simulation computer program, offering up as his defence the simple statement: “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”
In the fierce, sometimes all-consuming world of book promotion, we need to be reminded that there is no such thing as no-win. If something looks dire, reprogram the parameters.

3. The Prime Directive is sacred, except when it isn’t.
The Prime Directive is the strict Starfleet regulation of non-interference with the evolution of other cultures, a regulation to be upheld at all cost. However, episodes abound in which the Prime Directive is broken, bent, or shaved just a little, because the greater good depended upon it. In other words, sometimes rules are guidelines, or need to be broken altogether. Instinct and circumstance are truly what count.

4. Beware the colour green.
In the Star Trek universe, the green-skinned women are nothing but trouble, the green disrupter fire is deadly and green on your Vulcan officer’s tunic means he is bleeding to death. In the universe of book writing and selling, green emerges in the form of jealousy, and that is one monster that needs to be transported off your ship or at least caged where it can do no harm. Being bitter over authors selling more or getting better reviews will set you on your arse faster than a phaser set on stun.

5. Boldly go where no one has gone before.
That mantra has sustained generations of television franchises, movies, books, and fans. Even if you have never heard of Star Trek or have little desire to engage in the fandom, that’s what your book does, too: Boldly Go Where No One Has Gone Before. Your voice is unique. So is your story. That’s why you wrote it. Don’t stop now.

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To boldly go into book promotion: 5 valuable lessons

From our collection…

My love of Star Trek is not pure escape any more. It has taught me about the great unknown that is book marketing. For example:
1. Look big, especially if you’re small
Think of wee Clint Howard’s character in The Corbomite Manoeuvre. For those of you who haven’t had the pelasure, the Enterprise crew face destruction from a stern, imposing alien. Meeting face-to-face, the crew discover a tiny childlike creature who only wanted some company, using a giant puppet to appear more fearsome. It certainly got their attention.
For authors and publishers promotiong books, our ‘imposing alien’ is a professional storefront: engaging and efficient website, impressive social media presence, professionally designed and produced print materials, consistent and relevant blog posts … you get the idea. Today’s technology and range of services means our imposing appearance is limited only by our imagination and courage.

2. There is no such thing as no-win
This lesson is courtesy of James T. Kirk and the Kobayashi Maru. To recap, the Kobayashi Maru was a training simulation mandatory for all Starfleet command cadets, programmed to be ‘no-win’ to gauge their ability to handle inevitable destruction. Kirk was the only cadet to ‘beat’ the simulation. He tampered with the simulation computer program, offering up as his defence the simple statement: “I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”
In the fierce, sometimes all-consuming world of book promotion, we need to be reminded that there is no such thing as no-win. If something looks dire, reprogram the parameters.

3. The Prime Directive is sacred, except when it isn’t.
The Prime Directive is the strict Starfleet regulation of non-interference with the evolution of other cultures, a regulation to be upheld at all cost. However, episodes abound in which the Prime Directive is broken, bent, or shaved just a little, because the greater good depended upon it. In other words, sometimes rules are guidelines, or need to be broken altogether. Instinct and circumstance are truly what count.

4. Beware the colour green.
In the Star Trek universe, the green-skinned women are nothing but trouble, the green disrupter fire is deadly and green on your Vulcan officer’s tunic means he is bleeding to death. In the universe of book writing and selling, green emerges in the form of jealousy, and that is one monster that needs to be transported off your ship or at least caged where it can do no harm. Being bitter over authors selling more or getting better reviews will set you on your arse faster than a phaser set on stun.

5. Boldly go where no one has gone before.
That mantra has sustained generations of television franchises, movies, books, and fans. Even if you have never heard of Star Trek or have little desire to engage in the fandom, that’s what your book does, too: Boldly Go Where No One Has Gone Before. Your voice is unique. So is your story. That’s why you wrote it. Don’t stop now.

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Embracing my inner hermit to be a better marketer

I come from a long line of hermits. But there are five ways that can work in my favour.

Like my ancestors, I would rather stick needles in my eyes than step into a crowded room. Then, after years of fighting this to try and market my books – and by extension, myself –  I discovered that my inner hermit could become an ally in the arena of self-promotion. Here are five examples:

1. Seeing and hearing things many others do not notice. At a party, in a classroom, in a lineup at the grocery store: all are great places to hear what folks are chatting about, interested in, and excited by. Without the constant need to talk and interact, a hermit becomes the proverbial fly on the wall, not deliberately eavesdropping but floating on the constant stream of auditory data that, when processed, can give hints for messaging, positioning, and other must-know marketing details.

2. Reading more. To avoid outside contact we will often retreat into the world of books, which is why so many writers are introverts and therefore struggle with this self-promotion thing. However, that avoidance also leads us to study brochures, menus and posters with intense interest, giving clues for phrasing, design, and details that can make a marketing program shine. Better readers make better writers, and better marketers.

3. A quiet social life. Marketing takes time. Lots of it. Very little of it fun or in keeping with what you would do in leisure hours, like hanging with family, having drinks with friends, etc etc. Without the craving for girls’ night out every week or daily phone chats with Sis, we hermits have more time to develop our marketing plans, brainstorm our campaigns, flesh out the details, and put ourselves out there to the target audience crowd. There is stress with all that interaction, but no guilt or remorse for missing something ‘fun.’

4. Deep feelings. Authenticity is not just a buzzword, it is the cornerstone of our existence, and of sustainable marketing. Hermits often isolate themserlves to avoid being drained by the constant superficial banter, bells and whistles of the world. When we do emerge or share something, the exchange is heartfelt and our audiences come to respect, and then to trust us.

5. Independence. A hermit has no need for outside validation. We are perfetly positioned to do our own thing, be original, and be unique. We do, however, need motivation to engage with a population that most days we would rather hide from, but hey, no one is perfect.

In short, no matter your personality, if you are true to yourself and share yourself authentically, you can be a successful marketer. And after a day of spreading the word you choose to lock the door and curl up with your cat and a good book, you are indeed a person after my own heart.

Thanks for reading.

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What do a writer, bagpiper and Muppets have in common?

Life lessons crop up, emerge, or even squeal in the most unlikely places, an everyday gift to each of us. The fine print that our logic often ignores is being open to the lesson, even when the cold sting of rejection and churn of duty urges us to close up, sign off, and pretend it didn’t happen. I nearly did that this past weekend but there is no ignoring bagpipes, especially when the piper is peeved. It went something like this. I spent the day at a trade show with a couple dozen other authors and several dozen avid readers, and it was terrific. For this solitary vocation, it was a necessity: getting out of the house, meeting other authors face-to-face, perfecting the pitch as visitors browsed for hints and swag. But in the glare of the house lights, fuelled by coffee and chocolate and recycled air, doubts emerged with each passing hour. Clearly I was the worst writer there, the least interesting, the lowest in sales, called ‘author’ not because of talent or promise but because I paid the fee and showed up. Now the warm goodbyes of strangers-turned-colleagues, some fresh air and a nap sent the doubts on a bit of a hike, but it took the Muppets to send them packing. More about that in a minute.

While I was flogging my wares down the street, my preteen piper was on Halifax’s awesome Citadel Hill wrapping up a four-event competition in which she earned two firsts, a second, and a third, taking the overall award for her grade. It was a great accomplishment. But. That second place, it was to someone she knew, on a tune she thought was solid. That was all she could think about, not what she won, but what she lost. The good-natured teasing from her peers, meant to show their pride in her accomplishments, threw fuel on the fire and by the time she got home frustration was waging all-out war on her outlook. Now the only folks more competitive than those swaddled in kilts are, perhaps, writers. Called by maternal instinct from the ooze of my pity party, we sat on the couch and shared miseries. Yes, we took pride in our work. No, it didn’t seem that was always recognized. But did we believe we did our best? Yes, we did. We repeated it over and over, until the black cloud melted and our stomachs unclenched. We can be our top judge or our worst critic: which will it be? A judge, we agreed, and a good one, who tells it like it is with constructive comment and encouragement, not insults or doubt. We will hold ourselves to our highest standard, and not tear ourselves or others down in the process. She hauled out her instrument and began to practise. Her final song was Danny Boy, described on the page as a Londonderry Air. When she read it aloud, though, it sounded like London Derriere. She giggled, we cracked up, and we hooted until we were sore. Then we watched this clip from The Muppet Show, with The Leprechaun Brothers, aka Beaker, Animal and Swedish Chef, and their rendition of this classic song. No awards, no medals, but clearly a winner:

Who were we kidding? Life is so much more than a competition. So, what do a writer, bagpiper and the Muppets have in common? We all share the same Derry Airs. Thanks for reading.