The attendance Over/Under line was set at 60, and only 40 showed. (We had over half the cake left and over half the wine.)
People did not come because they forgot (she bought a copy later) or had a civic meeting (he bought one before) or a granddaughter’s birthday or were sick (two of these) or had a spouse in the hospital (another prior sale) or were going out of town (several people — and a couple sales) or had an Audubon meeting (“I like birds” — also a sale).
The goal was to sell 50 books at the party, and I sold 40.
But I had a great time. (My talk got many laughs; I did not read.)
I knew everyone there. Some I had not seen in a couple years. (I was reminded of a friend — he was there — who once said of one of the circles I draw from, “We only see each other now at Bob’s readings — or funerals.) My demographics skew highly elderly and white.
The analytics show my old basketball game and former law office and social circle well-represented. Café attendance was weak and the health club poorer than that. The two posters I put up and the mention of the party on Facebook and at The Comics Reporter drew no one.
(In fact, no one from the comic world came. Since this is where I am supposed to have “name recognition” and a “platform” and all those things marketing departments want, I suspect I may have cartons of books cluttering up the hall for quite a while.
Still, in the arts, I recognized, there are two axes. One is, Did I enjoy myself? The other is, How many copies did I sell? The trick is to embrace the first and ignore — or laugh at yourself when you don’t — the second.
In fact, that may apply to many areas of life.