The Parf has just returned to Feral Acres from the Center of the Universe (New York City), where he announced Feral House and Process Media Fall season titles to the distributor’s sales reps, so they can pitch these books to what remains of the bookstore trade amidst the Spenglerian decline of data smog, recession panic, and mass closure of bookstores.
At the cocktail party, the forlorn reps hoisted drinks and suggested to me how difficult it was to make sense of the devastation of their careers. I also I got the usual, “your books, Adam, are the hardest to sell. Book buyers sometimes get really angry when I show them the covers.”
The distributor also held a couple helpful meetings presenting us with marketing their titles in confusing ebook orbit where we’ve actually paid more than received in converting titles to iPad and Kindle-friendly files. (The Apple ban on some of our titles will have to wait for another Feral Friday entry.)
As you might expect, the bookselling orbit is now susceptible to P.T. Barnumesque efforts to capture the dwindling attention spans of potential buyers. Near our hilariously minuscule room at our Jane Hotel room in the West Village was a Hudson Street store that offered thousand of copies of one—yes, one—title, in this case a book called “Martian Summer.” We photographed its author and purveyor here.
We ran into Permanent Midnight‘s Jerry Stahl near Union Square, and he declined the opportunity to see with us the Mel Gibson movie, “The Beaver.” Though the movie was difficult to endure it did inspire in my friend Christina Dallas and me a load of wicked laughs near its conclusion. (After the film let out, a Mel Gibson fan threatened to punch us out.)
Hope to see y’all next week!