Ah, I get it. You’re being ironic.

Well, I suppose so, but the statement’s not that far from the literal truth. There was a good stretch of time, up until perhaps a dozen years ago, when I spent a disproportionate amount of my days and nights inscribing my name on the title pages of my books. I autographed endless stacks of copies at my publishers’ warehouses, toured relentlessly, signed stock at every bookstore that would let me in the door—and, of course, did the deed at no end of readings and signings.

While the point of all this activity sometimes eluded me, I knew it was hugely important to booksellers and their customers. If you collected books, even in the most limited way, you wanted your copies signed. Otherwise they were somehow incomplete.

It was not always thus. The rules keep changing. Once upon a time, most book buyers regarded a dust jacket as no more than a bit of promotional material designed to keep a book clean while it was on a bookstore shelf; when you sat down and read it, you as often as not tossed the thing in the trash.

Book and all? Or just the dust wrapper?

I suppose that woould depend on your reaction to what you read. But even if you did hold on to the jacket, you were unlikely to treat it with reverence. You let it get torn and tattered. You parked your drink on it. It never occurred to you to go out and buy a clear plastic cover to keep the thing pristine.

Some decades ago, that changed utterly—to the point where a book by a collectible author may lose 90% of its value if it loses its jacket, and will very likely descend to the level of a reading copy.

That’s not quite the case with signatures, but it’s close.

I have some unsigned books of yours. I guess  that means they’re rare. Does that make them more valuable?

No, I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. Colectors still prefer a signed book to an unsigned one. In fact they insist on it.

But with the new book, everything’s changed.

That would be DEAD GIRL BLUES, wouldn’t it?

It would indeed.

Your new novel. You self-published it June 24, and in the month it’s been out it’s been getting some really impressive reviews.

And some negative ones, let’s not forget. Some people don’t like it at all.

Well, you knew that would happen. But most people like it, and some of them have called it your best book ever.

Even as some would call that a low bar.

Oh, cool it with the self-deprecating crap, will you? I know people like it and I know it’s selling briskly. Why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the book’s success?

Um—

And what’s actually changed, anyway? The unsigned copies are suddenly more valuable?

No, and they’re not even scarce. With Dead Girl Blues, virtually all copies of the book are unsigned—and will remain that way. It was published in the middle of a pandemic, and while every author hopes his book will go viral, this is not what I had in mind. I stopped book tours years ago, but these days I hardly ever set foot outside the house. I’m certainly not going to bookstores, or making public appearances, and I’ve never allowed people to send me books for signing.

So if I want a signed copy, I guess I’m screwed.

Not necessarily.

Oh? Do tell.

First, a quick survey of the forms in which Dead Girl Blues is available.

1. The ebook is for sale at Amazon and most other online platforms for $9.99.

2. The paperback is widely available from Amazon and other online booksellers for $14.99. Bookstores may order copies via Ingram’s Lightning Source division.

3. The Case Laminate hardcover (aka library binding) is available from Amazon and other online booksellers for $24.99. Again, bookstores and libraries may order copies via Ingram’s Lightning Source division.

4. German and Italian editions, translated by Sepp Leeb and Luigi Garlaschelli respectively, are available in ebook and paperback editions from Amazon and elsewhere.

5. The Tantor Audiobook, voiced by Peter Berkrot, is widely available; here are links for Amazon and Audible.

I know all that. What about getting a signed copy?

Sorry, I just wanted to lay the groundwork. The Mysterious Bookshop is the only mystery bookstore remaining in New York, and even after I stopped touring it was the one place where I continued to appear for signings. In addition to launching new books there, I would contrive to show up regularly to sign stock.

And now they’re able to supply signed copies of the hardcover edition of Dead Girl Blues at the list price of $24.99. Just yesterday I signed 40 books for which they’d already accepted orders, and did so without leaving my apartment; a chap from the bookshop brought the books to my building; the concierge accepted them and put them on the elevator; I took them off the elevator, signed them, and returned them the same way—and they’re now on their way to collectors.

But if those forty books are already gone—

The whole operation went smoothly enough for us to repeat it. The Mysterious Bookshop has reopened the title for orders, and they’ll be able to accept new orders through the end of the month, at which time they’ll place their final order; as soon as the books they order get to New York, we’ll repeat the process described above. I’ll sign them and put them on the elevator to the lobby, an emissary from the bookshop will retrieve them and take them back to the store—and, if you got your order in on time, you’ll shortly receive your copy.

Should I order online? Or would I be best advised to pick up the phone?

Either way should work. Personally, I’d give them a call at 212.587.1011.

But first let me make sure I’ve got this straight. You’ll sign as many copies as they get orders for by the end of the month.

Right.

And Mysterious Bookshop isn’t marking them up? The price stays at $24.99?

Right again.

And these are hardcover books. But they don’t have dust jackets.

Right twice more, by golly. What would be printed on the dust jacket is instead printed directly on the glossy hard cover, art and text and all. And that leads into what I want to talk about next, which is indeed Library Bindings.

They call them that because libraries have always been fond of them; indeed, when a library book needs to be rebound, that’s generally been the kind of binding it would get. They’re durable, they’re attactive, and you don’t have a dust jacket to worry about.

When I first stuck my toe in the waters of self-publishing, I was limited to ebooks. Then paperback publication became an option, and now everything I self-publish is in that state as well.

More recently, I’ve been able to publish hardcovers, and at present the following titles are thus available in library binding: Dead Girl Blues, of course, along with The Burglar in Short Order, The Darkling Halls of Ivy, Generally Speaking, and Hunting Buffalo with Bent Nails.

There are other candidates for Library Binding treatment. Some of my books for writers, for example, and some anothologies and short story collections. I publish the three Scudder novels I’ve been able to wrest away from the original publisher, and I think they might succeed in this form. But I don’t think every backlist title is suitable. I can’t think libraries will rush to order hardcover copies of High School Sex Club, say, or Gigolo Johnny Wells.

You know what? That’s enough for today. I’ve spent the whole newsletter telling you how to get your hands on a signed copy of Dead Girl Blues, and that’s as much of my space and your time as I really need to waste.

I wish you well. I wish us all well.

Cheers,

PS: As always, please feel free to forward this to anyone you think might find it of interest. And, if you yourself have received the newsletter from a friend and would like your own subscription, that’s easily arranged; an  email to lawbloc@gmail.com with Newsletter in the subject line will get the job done.

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