by Shane Briant
Wendy and I stayed for another week, strolling around Greenwich Village, Soho, Tribecca – all the iconic places.
'Worst Nightmares' came out in hard back during the worst year in publishing history. I was very lucky to be published in America, now I was not so lucky with my timing. Because of the GFC, publishers had practically no money to promote their books. Vanguard was a small company. The budget for my novel was cut in half almost immediately. The result was that sales were initially 'iffy'.
Roger had promised he'd launch a mass-market edition and he was true to his word. However, in those desperately troubled times all the publishing houses cut their print run dramatically because they were afraid they wouldn't be able to sell enough books. So my paperback print run was very small. And without sufficient money to promote it through advertising and other modes of promotion, it stood as much chance of making it as a cardboard box in the sea off Cape Horn.
I realized I stood a good chance of an early departure from the ranks of Vanguard authors, so I organized a book tour at my own expense. I felt at the time that if I put my own money where my mouth was I'd be demonstrating to Roger that I was in earnest. Georgina emailed me to say she was delighted, and would help me in any way she could.
The first step was to ask favours from my old friends Sheelagh and Nicky Hippisley-Coxe in California, and Scott and Jen in New York. I asked if I could come back and stay with them. I felt rather
happy to see me back – unless they were simply very good at faking it!
I engaged the service of a publicist called Jackie O'Neal and told her to see what she could come up with in terms of TV interviews, radio spots, and book signings. Anywhere in America. I was in this for the long haul and would stick around for eight weeks.
I started off by flying to California, and then waited for Jackie to do her work. Very shortly the interview schedule started to take shape, but as luck would have it, they were all over the place – with none in California.
Jackie booked me in on the Ken Hudnall Radio Show in El Paso, and then followed this up with a community television interview in Dallas Fort Worth.
Within a week or so the interview offers started to come in thick and fast, but it was hard to juggle them so they made geographical sense – I didn't want to be constantly back tracking, because the air fares were quite daunting.
I left Australia on April 3rd, flying to L.A. On the 6 I was in Dallas chatting to Cheryl Nason on her show at CCTV Dallas Fort Worth. The producer was a lovely guy called James Carter. That's where I lost my camera – in a bar.
The following day I called in an interview via my cell phone on the Frank Truatt Morning Show. His show covered northern New York State and sections of Westchester County. Around half a million listeners every day.
On the 8 I flew to El Paso to meet and stay with Ken Hudnall,. He was very hospitable, treating me like a long lost son and driving me all over El Paso to book signings at Borders and Barnes and Noble. He also took me to Frank's Mexican Diner. Amazingly hot food! Across the Mexican border one could hear the sporadic gunfire as the cartels in Juarez terrorized the locals.
Because Jackie couldn't find somewhere to go to from El Paso, I had to fly back to L.A. Nicky was surprised to see me so soon, and I felt bad. The alternative was a hotel at $250 a day!
The first day I was back I lost my first cell phone.
While in Venice, CA, I was interviewed via my cell phone by Dr Beth Erickson on 'Relationships 101.' I don't know how many people she reached, but as they say, any publicity is good. (Can this really be true?) She was a sweetheart.
The Mike Bissell Show was next, one that covered most of Nevada – via telephone again. There followed the well known 'Mike Dresser Show.'
On April 23rd, while I was being interviewed via phone link with radio KZSB, the host, 'Baron' Ron Herron asked me if I was coming to Santa Barbara. Without thinking, and eager to please, I replied, "Certainly!"
He then asked me when I was coming, and I spluttered, "Er… tomorrow!"
That was it; I was now locked into driving the two and a half hours to Santa Monica – with no book signing set up.
Tant pis. My fault.
A typical reader reaction!
It turned out to be a sunny day and I enjoyed driving Sheelagh's car.
When I arrived, I sought out Barnes and Noble and introduced myself; informing the manager I'd been on the local very popular radio show the previous day.
"That's wonderful!" he replied. "Perhaps you can sign the books?"
I told him I'd be delighted to.
He found two copies. I bought both myself because they had a policy of re-ordering when they ran out of supplies. I went next to Borders, across the road, somewhat deflated. They had one copy. I asked if they had a policy of automatic re-orders and they told me they did – so I bought the single copy myself - at full price. Then I found a Mexican bar and ordered a very large margarita.
I found the Santa Monicans – if that's what they're called – extremely friendly, and while in that Mexican bar I started up a conversation with a young guy wearing a Dodgers shirt and his baseball hat back to front. He asked me what I did for a living and soon he'd dragged out of me what I'd been doing that morning. He laughed loudly then beckoned the young barman over.
"Hey Danny. You gotta hear this. My friend here, Shane, comes all the way from Australia to sell his new book. He drives all the way up here from L.A., spends about thirty bucks on gas, and guess how many books he sold. THREE! Okay? Now guess who bought 'em? That's RIGHT. The main man!"
Peals of laughter all around. I had three more stiff drinks, sat around on the sand looking at the ocean until the booze wore off, then drove the two and a half hours back to Nicky's place.
Back in L.A. I was interviewed on 'Celebrity Stars with Mike Kurban.' The show covered Las Vegas. Handy.
Then there was the rather spooky 'The Midnight Bookworm, with Vin Smith.' He was a great guy – lots of jokes there.
I stayed with Nick and Sheelagh until heading off for Sacramento by air a few days later – Jackie had arranged a book signing in Roseville, North Carolina, a town I was told was very picturesque.
At the airport I picked up a car rental. I'd done some online research and had been surprised to note that a rental in North Carolina cost just $17! An amazing find, I thought! It was at the airport that an employee of Dollar Rentacar informed me the actual cost was $17 per day for the car, plus $240 a day for full insurance. So, much leaner in the hip pocket, I set off on the Freeway with my 'Nightmare-Mobile.'
The scary 'Nightmare-mobile.'
I'd sticky-taped my two foot by three foot colour posters of 'Worst Nightmares' to both sides of the car as well as the boot. Any publicity? Never mind. It never occurred to me that other road users might be intimidated by a big black limo (upgraded for free!) with posters stuck to it that screamed 'Worst Nightmares.' Each time I cruised up to a traffic light and glanced to my right, I'd enjoy giving them 'the look.' Usually, they'd look at my posters, and look away.
While in Roseville I hooked up on Skype with Mike Johnson of the 'Indie Media Show.' The same afternoon, I drove to Borders for my signing. This time there were fifty books ready to sign and a picture of me in the window. I stayed four hours, during which time I signed five books.
Barnes & Noble Ashville.
The next day I drove to Sacramento and met up with my actress friend Annalisa Bastiani, and we toured around town looking for bookstores. We found one store with no books in stock, so we settled on lunch in the old town. Great food. No book sales.
The Manager in Roseville read a chapter – then gave me a second look.
I flew to Asheville the following day, but due to the incoming plane arriving too late I arrived in the town at 1 a.m. There were two cabs waiting outside the airport. The first cab driver looked like first pick for 'Serial Killer of the Century.' He was six foot four, lean as a beanpole, wearing a dirty bowling shirt, smiling, and chewing gum like it was
the everlasting chew. I glanced at the second cabbie – he was African American and looked like a regular guy – but I could hardly ignore 'the killer,' as he was first in the queue.
I got in the back of the cab, told him my hotel address, and wondered if this would be my last ride. The cab set off.
Fifteen yards later he stopped
"Well, dang! Looks lark ah got myself a flat!" the murderer said as he opened his driver's door. "Marne if I put on the spare? You gart tarm?"
Ultimately this cabbie didn't end up slitting my throat, and I arrived at my hotel just in time to get down to the 'Texas Bar' fifty feet down the road, where they were still serving beers at 3 a.m.
Next day I was up at dawn, trying to track down the 'good guy' cabbie. I was eventually successful and the African American drove me to the television station for my appearance on 'The Morning Show.' The station was WLOS TV (ABC) and my interviewer was the very cute looking Victoria Dunkle. She was a smart journalist, asking all the right questions, and practically demanded that anyone watching should head down to Barnes and Noble at 5 p.m. to meet me and buy my books. I was, as you can imagine, elated.
However, at 5 p.m. I was again reminded that book signings, unless you are the Pope, President Obama, George Cluney or Adolf Hitler come back from the grave, are a thing of the past. I sold a dozen copies. But Asheville is a lovely old town and I could understand why President Obama had put it on his list of places to campaign.
Two days later I did something no one in their right minds would think of doing – unless they are kids who want to do something unusual. I paid for a trip on a Greyhound Bus from Asheville, North Carolina, to New York, Penn Station.
I phoned Nicky, telling him my plans, and he told me I was 'bonkers.' I told him I was going to save several hundred dollars.
Besides, I'd be sitting on a bus for twenty-two hours and I could watch America go by. And sleep.
What I never factored in was that the bus stops every two to three hours and everyone has to disembark – no reason given – and then everyone gets back on again. This means you can't ever sleep for longer than a nap.
So I bussed to Winston Salem, Greenboro, Danville, etc, etc, etc, till we arrived in Washington and I had a brief look at the Pentagon before finally entering New York at five minutes to two in the morning.
That was twenty-three hours later!
I was mentally trashed, but felt I couldn't turn up at Scott and Jen's at three in the morning, so I dragged my bag into Times Square. I figured I'd have a few drinks in a bar, take a look around, and have a bite to eat someplace.
Nah. Not possible.
Actress Jen Perito and designer Scott Citron at breakfast in New York.
Why do people call New York 'the city that never sleeps' when it's so hard to find a bar or a restaurant open at 3 a.m?
I did eventually find an Irish bar, but everyone inside was screaming at each other, and the three TVs were all showing very violent professional cage fighting. I had one drink and decided to move on – the patrons looked too scary.
I love New York – especially the Campbell Apartment cocktail bar at Central station, around the side where no one goes. May I recommend the 'Planter's Punch' with the inch of Moët Chandon floating on the top? Best drink on the world. Drink the punch through the champagne or use a straw. Perfect! And less than twenty dollars! I love the atmosphere and buzz of the city, and I like the attitude of the New Yorkers. So I spent a week having a great time with Jen and Scott, then took the Amtrak train to see my old friend, theatre maestro Vincent Dowling, the director of my first West End stage show, who was now living near Huntingdon in Chester.
Vincent has his own radio show once a week on Valley Free Radio called 'Shootin' from the Hip.' It's in Northampton Massachusetts and covers the five college area of the towns and universities of Amherst, Northampton, and Holyoke MA. Vincent is assisted once a week by Walter 'Golden Voice' Mantani. Together they rival any twenty-something shock-jocks. In the afternoon Vincent had arranged with a friend who owned a lovely gallery to have a 'Meet the Author' function. It turned out to be quite a success, with more than thirty people turning up. Afterwards, we ate a stupendous pizza in a local restaurant, drank a lot of wine, and finally drove back to Chester. Two more days of fly-fishing with Vincent, and I felt re-energized and very ready to fly home to see Wendy and the kids (cats – Giblet and Freddy)
I was acutely aware that my sixteen thousand dollar investment had earned me very little. As it turned out, very little indeed. Despite all my running around America, Vanguard couldn't be convinced to plough more cash into the promotion of the massmarket edition, and consequently it fell flat on its face. The sequel, 'The Dreamhealer' was not taken up by Vanguard despite their promises of 'being in it for the long haul because - we believe in you.'
There are no two ways about it, business is always business. Major publishing houses can weather any storm, even the GFC. But small ones such as Roger's Vanguard simply don't have very deep
pockets, so despite their best intentions they find it impossible to take a loss.
But I'd been there before, with Harper Collins Australia, who had also promised me a long career. So, knowing that Laura Blake Petersen would never give up on me, I made plans to publish the sequel on the Internet while I wrote my next masterpiece.
'The Dreamhealer' is now available on CreateSpace and Amazon, and as a download on Smashwords. Week by week I'm adding all my previous books as downloads. They should all be up by the time this book is published.
It's no use looking back – always look forward and see the emerging trends. In publishing it has to be the Internet.
Another Scottcitrondesign cover.
MONSTERS AND VAMPIRES AGAIN!
It's not difficult for older actors to think 'Am I ever going to get that fabulous role?' or 'Am I going to have to accept that very dull television role?' There are exceptions, but more often than not that great role doesn't eventuate.
Why?
Because the international film audience prefers to see young lions doing fabulous things. People they can identify with.
What about roles such as the wizards and masters of the universe, you might argue? The chances are theatre actors who have earned a knighthood, or those who have won major film awards'll snap them up.
No need to despair. Just look at Jackie Weaver! She's in her mid sixties, has done a mountain of great theatre, film and television work all her life, then lands a great role in 'Animal Kingdom,' and she gets a Golden Globe and an Oscar nomination. Fantastic! A few years ago I wondered how my career was traveling. Things were looking bleak. Then along came Roger Spottiswoode and he made my Internet Movie Database profile look a lot better. Then another year passed and I wondered if Australia's best directors would ever come back to Oz and offer me something so I could show the world what I can do. They didn't return, but who should appear out of the blue? A hero of mine since 'The Mission.' Someone I thought I'd never have the pleasure of working with.
Which only goes to show – no one can tell what's around the corner.
In 2010 I was getting to know people on the Internet that I never knew existed, let alone had ever met. I knew that if my books were going to sell I needed as many people as possible to know they were out there in the market place. Who better to contact than the people who had enjoyed my early work – work that had become almost a cult. Hammer horror films.
I chatted to countless people on Facebook, I 'twittered' daily and worked on my website to make it worth a visit. Robert