Bite The Hand That Feeds

From the Independent Online.

Booker winner's robot brainwave may spell the end of the book tour

Novelist's invention means that authors on one continent can autograph volumes on another

By Anthony Barnes
Published: 19 February 2006

The bizarre, futuristic device would not be out of place in one of Margaret Atwood's sci-fi novels. But next month the Booker Prize-winning writer will unveil a machine she has invented which means authors will never have to meet their adoring public again.

A few reasons why this won't, or shouldn't, fly. One, book signings (albeit fraught with peril and opportunities for humiliation) are a great way of meeting readers, who, in turn, let other readers know about your book. "Oh, if you like X, you'll love Y," they'll say. A few more books get sold. Book tours give authors, especially newbies, a chance to meet fans and make new ones. It's not glamorous, but if my writing teachers have drilled anything into me, it's you have to tour and go to conferences and conventions. Shake hands, smile, go on junkets, make the same lousy jokes at every stop. It's sometimes a pain, but it'll pay off in the long run.

Two, going on book tours and signing books can be a great way for authors to get to know store owners. Make friends with the people who are displaying your book. Chat them up. Be friendly. Sign a couple extra books even if you don't want. Be someone they would want to invite back when your next novel drops.

Three, as mentioned in the article, no one knows who will be really signing books anymore. Almost three years ago, I watched as William Gibson scribbled his name in my copy of "Pattern Recognition." I know he did that. I have an autographed copy of Cliff Stoll's "Silicon Snake Oil," and even if I wasn't there, I'm pretty sure he signed it based on the manic scribble on the page, mirroring the writer's wacky personality. There's a clear humanity in the blue ink. With a tele-pen signature, will the personality be there? Perhaps, but we're just dancing around the 800 pound hamster in the room. Fraud. It's not that uncommon anymore to see scandals erupt around sports memorabilia signed by someone other than the star. When you find out that the Hank Aaron baseball you bought wasn't signed by ol' Hammering Hank, the value is going to drop fast, leaving you with an expensive piece of trash. Same goes for books. A local indie bookstore by my house has an impressive wall filled with rare editions as well as autographed copies. Some hover for $100 while I remember spying a first edition Dune by Frank Herbert topping $1,000. If the tele-pen goes through, who knows who really signed that book.

I can see why Atwood loves this device. Atwood, at 66, doesn't need to tour anymore. She's a respected award-winning author who has little to prove, and perhaps the strain of touring is getting to be too much. Like teleconferencing in the business world, the long-distance autographing does save on travel costs. Audiences will still be able to see Atwood via monitor, signing away via remote stylus. But something is going to be lost if this takes off. Writers spend much of their time in seclusion, and the book tour is the way for the public to see their literary idols up close. While I don't believe Atwood means this out of spite, I see a message here, long distance, of "I don't want to be near you, dear reader." You can't be a hermit and accessible at the same time. It's a mixed message, something all authors try to remove in those early drafts in order not to confuse the readers.