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A note from Will:
The Buzz at Bookexpo
Will Ferguson
Bookexpo is all about buzz. Or at least, that’s what they tell the authors.
From the groaning Grinch-that-stole-Christmas-type tote bags people were hauling around the Toronto Convention Centre this year, I’d say the real point is swag: both the accumulation and distribution of. Advance reading copies of fall books, toys and trinkets and every manner of tie-in: the aisles were lined with giveaways.
In my case, that meant handing out packets of aphrodisiacs, labelled “100 per cent guaranteed PLACEBO!” This was to promote a novel titled Spanish Fly. I had wanted to include a small amount of powder – baking soda, say– in each of the packets, until someone pointed out that perhaps distributing a mysterious powder at a crowded public event was not the best idea. (Though I have to say, a CSIS raid on Bookexpo, complete with rappling ropes, drug-sniffing dogs and anthrax-hunting agents would have gotten us excellent media.) We decided to slip in packets of Sweet n Low instead.
It was just as well, because one of the conference’s star authors was a former prime minister: Jean Chretien, in attendance to promote his forthcoming memoir, My Years as Prime Minister. Mr. Chretien jumped up on a small podium in front of a packed audience. He casually swatted down the one political question that flew his way as though it were a mildly pesky mosquito – “Hey, I am here to sell books.” – and told everyone he was looking forward to travelling across Canada on book tour, meeting people and shaking hands “because it’s in the contract.”
I was heading back to the hotel afterwards, down a wide, empty corridor when I spotted CBC’s Bill Richardson walking towards me. I hadn’t seen Bill in years, and we were chatting amiably when around the corner swept Jean. He was accompanied by his publishers, a pair of heavy hitters named Brad Martin and Louise Dennys, along with several young men in blazers whom I assumed were on security detail.
The entire entourage would have passed us by – Chretien was moving so fast everyone had to run to keep up – but Louise spotted me and stopped Mr. Chretien. “Have you met Will Ferguson?” she asked.
He stopped, said hello, shook my hand. I considered telling him that I had a book coming out at the same time he did, indeed that we would be going head-to-head. But I didn’t want to intimidate him – this was only his second book after all –so instead I mentioned an earlier volume of mine, one in which he figured prominently. His smile disappeared.
This earlier book was based upon a highly scientific system I developed for evaluating Canadian leaders, classifying each as either “a bastard who screwed Canada” or a “bonehead, who just screwed up.” It had circulated in Ottawa for years.
Mr. Chretien pinned me with a steely stare. “Ah, yes,” he said. “You’re the one who’s been having fun on me in your . . .” he paused to come up with just the right word to describe what it is I do “... in your writings.” You could hear the sarcasm; he said “writings” but clearly meant “scribblings.”
Apparently, calling someone a bastard has a different nuance in French.
“Is it too late to apologize?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Did it sell lots of books?”
“Um, yes actually, it did.”
“Well then . . .” he said, and he moved on to say hello to Bill.
One of the young men accompanying the former prime minister stepped towards me. “Mr. Ferguson?” he said, and I thought, Okay, here we go. But no. He just shook my hand, smiled, and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
And off they went.
As Jean strode away, down the hallway, so full of promise, so full of optimism, all I could think was “The poor guy. He has no idea what a cut-throat business publishing is.” I can only hope he manages to generate some buzz.”
The Walrus
October 2007
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