Morning Blog-o-sphere! Early? 7.21am? Well I got up at 3.00, mopped vomit at 5.45, Lion’s having his post-vom midday nap, so that makes it lunchtime by my reckoning. Besides, it’s Friday and I’m keen to get flogging – I had a blast last week! So here it is:
At the beginning of the week, my publisher sent me an email declaring that sales of Wobbles had tapered off and it was time for them to begin ‘stock reduction’. For those Friday Floggers who are unfamiliar with my literary triumphs, Wobbles – An Olympic Story is my memoir, a cracking read and you really should buy one.
Upon reading this rather mysterious term, ‘stock reduction’, my mind went wild with visions of grand machines shooting laser beams into piles and piles of unsold books, reducing them to The Pocket Edition Wobbles, perfect for that Kris Kringle present you really didn’t want to have to buy.
Or, I thought, perhaps stock reduction involves bonfires. This got me wondering if anyone would bother protesting the ‘reduction’ of my life to a pile of smouldering ashes and whether I was entitled to royalties on burned stock.
Or perhaps they intended to treat the excess numbers of books in their warehouse with an approach similar to the one you might take for excesses of rats or cockroaches. Maybe they would bring in the men with space suits and toxic chemicals to spray an acid wash over my labour of love, dissolving it into nothingness.
Or maybe Wobbles was destined for the pulp mill where it may be reborn as an environmentally friendly Guide to the Good Life or fancy recycled paper for scrapbooks, home made wedding invitations and over-priced wrapping paper.
The options seemed endless, but as I read the very next sentence, it became clear. ‘Stock Reduction’ is actually code for an End of Season Sale.
That’s right, people. My publisher has offered me as much stock as I want at bargain basement prices so I can pass on the savings to my loyal followers. So buy now for Christmas, for anniversaries, for birthdays or any other celebration you feel the need to mark with a gift. If you order them from me, you’ll have them personalised and signed and cheap, cheap, cheap.
Help save the remaining copies of Wobbles from whatever fearsome fate awaits those left on the shelf, and have yourself a rollicking read through the tragedies and triumphs of the most honest and entertaining sports memoir to date – a story about the ‘also-rans’ who made it but never quite ‘made’ it, who did extraordinary things in very ordinary ways and who came out the other end to tell the world the truth.
PS: It does beg the question: If ‘stock reduction’ involves selling more copies of the book, why would they not have employed a strategy called ‘marketing’ to move more of the stock in the first place? Why does it always fall on the shoulders of the writer to recreate herself into marketing guru, sales executive and tele-, email-, door-to-door-, blog- flogger? Hmmmm…
PPS: I realise this is a Double Flog. Sorry to those offended.
PPPS: Actually, I retract that. I’m not sorry. Or ashamed. I’m desperate.