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| Hearsay: |
A few interesting links on the philosophy of signing/signed books: from the perspective of the giddy reader, the journalist, and the author forced to sign someone else’s book.
The peculiar practice of signing books must be familiar territory for regular readers of the books blog. Sarah Weinman’s change of heart provoked heartfelt comments both for and against the custom, with very few shades of grey in between. But the discussion always assumes the book is signed by the author. And I don’t mean with Margaret Atwood’s LongPen.
Last week children’s author Mary Hoffman wrote on her blog about a recent bookshop signing session, which had her signing a copy of Horrid Henry, by Francesca Simon, because the young customer was very insistent. And I suppose it makes sense, really. A child doesn’t necessarily know why you have a book signed, but if there’s a signing going on, then they won’t want to miss out.
I remember having dinner with Roddy Doyle right before a reading, and I asked him whether he had any preferences for the signing afterward (there was an hour long line up), such as not wanting to sign too many books, etc. “No, no,” he said. “I’ll sign anything. It doesn’t even have to be mine.” Then there was the phase I wen through about 10 years ago when everyone kept mistaking me for Mark McGwire. It was a span of about 6 months when I was wearing contacts and had short hair and a goatee. People tried to buy me beers, strangers patted me on the back and asked what I was doing in town, and kids kept asking for autographs. Now I’m not a small dude, but I’m no Mark McGwire. At first it was fun. Then it got annoying and a little sad, so I grew out my beard. One particularly shy kid of about 10 or 11 had his mother come over and ask for an autograph. She was holding a baseball card. “My son wants to know if you’re Mark McGwire,” she said. “No,” I said. “But do you want me to sign it?” She looked back at the kid and nodded. So I signed it with a squiggle. I hope he’s not a collector and never finds out.
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April 28th, 2008 at 9:13 am
Great story about McGwire.
But, gee, aren’t we all just glad to be recognized as writers? I have never felt too sad for the big stars who complain about their aching hands etc. Buy my book and I’ll gladly sign it, it’s the least I can do. I’ll give you a big smile if you just validate my existence by nodding in my direction when I sit at the signing table in the bookstore waiting for someone to stop the way I used to sit and wait to be asked to dance eons ago in high school when couples actually danced with each other. \
Mary
Freeform dancing forever!
April 28th, 2008 at 9:51 am
I like the idea of signing books not of the author’s own output. Let’s face it, a copy of
F.Scott Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby, signed by Hemingway? Who wouldn’t want that?
Reminds me of the comic book guy in The Simpsons: “This is a very rare photo of Sean Connery, signed by Roger moore.”
April 28th, 2008 at 12:47 pm
at my launch in montreal, someone made me sign a copy of Life of Pi while Martel was standing right beside me. Go figure.
I’m with Pierre Berton on this: sign anything they put in front of you, short of a blank cheque.
April 28th, 2008 at 2:20 pm
In high school I worked at a bookstore that occasionally held children’s events featuring an unlucky bookstore employee dressed as a popular children’s book character. I once had to dress as Madeline the French orphan and sign dozens of copies of one of the Madeline books with a pink highlighter.
April 28th, 2008 at 2:35 pm
by the way, fellow Shelf Monkey, I liked your book.
m
April 28th, 2008 at 5:04 pm
Gracias, amigo.
April 29th, 2008 at 1:14 am
A friend of mine once had someone ask for an signature on a photocopy of his book.
April 29th, 2008 at 12:53 pm
Who wrote that great poem about trying to buy remaindered copies of his own book in a second-hand book store and being charged extra for the signature? Anyone remember? A male American poet; I’m thinking Stephen Dobyns, but am not sure…