Keynote Speaker

It’s one thing to sell yourself as a keynote speaker and quite another when the first speaking engagement arrives. Bill had been a keynoter before, but never as an author and never with such a new talk.

He had not been to Huntsville, Alabama, and wondered about the business merits of paying his own way to Huntsville to brief a breakout session of maybe forty people, even if he spoke as their official keynoter. Nevertheless, the offer had been the first of its kind and Bill needed the practice. There would also be an official book signing run by a bookstore—Bill’s first. He needed practice at that, too.

He decided to make the most of the opportunity and pursue contacts with the local press. After all, he was a keynote speaker and a novelist, visiting from Washington. With some huffing and puffing, he managed to secure an interview with a freelance writer. So far, so good.

Less than a week before the conference, Bill received a frantic call from the organizer. She had mentioned the topic of Bill’s novel to the two-star general who would introduce Bill’s session. The general found the book’s topic to be of great interest and thought the novel might be suitable reading for a command and general leadership course. The general might not think that if he knew about the sex scenes, Bill thought. Regardless, the general wanted to read the book before the conference. Bill sent one down by overnight mail.

The trip to Huntsville came on the heels of Bill and Jill’s writers workshop and overlapped with Bill’s first radio appearance. He had way too little time to cram for his interview, radio appearance, and keynote speech, all coming in a clump.

First came the interview. Shannon Belew, freelance technology writer, did pieces for the Huntsville Times and other local publications. Bill bought her lunch, gave her a free copy of the novel, and found her delightful. He did wonder whether he talked too much, but Shannon reassured him that’s the way it’s supposed to be when you’re the one being interviewed.

From the lunch, Bill carted a suitcase of books to the Barnes & Noble booth in the South Hall of the Von Braun Center. The booth stood amid a sea of booths in a huge conference hall. At the same booth, signing books, was Barry Boehm, a founding father of modern software engineering. Barry's technical reference books sold for between $60 and $80. Not bad, Bill thought, noting his own book to be the only novel at the booth. He noted also, as he pulled out his signs, that they were the only signs—a poster-sized book cover and a framed 8 ½ X 11 color glossy with the latest marketing hooks.

Bill was impressed by the booth boss, Mandy Dunlap, the Barnes & Noble Community Relations Manager (CRM), and learned much from her about the good works of her and other CRMs. Books sold: 21—the entire 15-book order that Mandy acquired in advance, plus six of the books Bill had brought. Not bad. Bill’s day continued as though he were a famous novelist, not a new first-bookie. He had dinner with Barry Boehm and several top conference planners, did his radio interview, and finally crammed for the keynote. Ah, yes, the keynote, almost lost amid the flurry of events. The fateful time came with a crowd of 100 rather than the 40 Bill expected. Major General John Urias, Deputy Commanding General, Army Space and Missile Defense Command, stepped up to the podium carrying a copy of Bill’s novel. A few minutes into his talk, the general held up Bill’s book, said he’d read two-thirds of it, found it “thought provoking,” and recommended it to the crowd.

Yikes, Bill thought, and yikes again as the general cited Bill’s name twice more, relating the book to issues of importance.

The session organizer, Tara Ragan, introduced Bill and announced he would be signing books at the break. “If you have doubts about whether to buy the book,” she said, “I understand it has some steamy sex scenes.”

"Steamy?” Bill thought. But it didn’t matter. Bill took all plugs, especially this one coming from a woman Bill considered striking and elegant even before she made the plug.

Bill’s worst fears were not realized. Not only did the talk go well, but the general stayed to hear it, despite his busy schedule. When Bill finally collapsed back into his seat in the crowd, he felt a tap on his shoulder. The woman sitting behind him leaned close and whispered, “Do you take credit cards?”

Bill reluctantly said "no." The woman explained she wanted to buy the novel for the people in her office, maybe 20 copies. A very nice lady, indeed. She was in no hurry, fortunately, because the publisher does take credit cards.

The event ended with another mini-signing, which brought an invitation to speak at another Army conference. Bill hastily agreed.

Books sold at the mini-signing: 8.  Overall assessment as the first stop on Bill’s speaking and book-signing tour—quite fine, thank you.

Updated: 19-Oct-2005