When you are first starting out as a writer, doing readings and signings can suck. When you have had a career as a writer for years, doing readings and signings can still suck.

Unless you’re one of the people whose first novel hits big and becomes a bestseller, your first readings and signings are not going to be well-attended. That’s okay. Everybody (whose first books were not bestsellers, and many of those whose first books were bestsellers) has gone through/is going through the same thing. It’s only the people who think that all books are bestsellers and that every writer’s life is wine and roses and villas in Spain and vacations in Provence that are going to be scandalized by the lack of line at your spot on the signing table.

At my first signing at a WorldCon, when my first novel The Element of Fire had only been out a couple of months, the con committee member who was in charge of the signing table questioned me about who I was and about the book, (where I explained that it was my first novel and had only been out a couple of months) and then he declared “Well, I’ve never heard of you!” (Much to the embarrassed horror of the younger guy who was doing all the work of fetching water and answering questions and actually running the signings.) Things like that may or may not happen, and you just have to roll with it. But if you get even one person who wants a signature, who says something like “It’s so cool that you’re here, I really liked your book!” it makes it all worthwhile.

Whether people come to your reading or not often depends on other factors than the popularity of your book. Readings in general may be well-attended at some conventions, not at others. But even if you’re at a con where readings are generally popular, your reading may be scheduled at a bad time. If you get even one person who wants to hear you, you’re doing good, and you should do your best for that person.

Many conventions now have only 30 minute slots for readings, with no break in between. This can be tricky. At a WorldCon several years ago, my reading time was at 10:00am on Sunday. Despite that, I actually had what is for me quite a good-sized audience of 10-12 people. But the room where the readings would be for that day had also been used for a Sunday morning church service conducted by a priest, and as the seconds clicked down to my reading time, he was still standing at the table with a portable altar set up chatting with the people who had attended the service. Some people, if they can’t start their 30 minute reading on time, will deliberately run over into the next reading slot, assuming that everyone will run over. What actually happens is that someone in one of the later slots will end up having to cut their reading short (sometimes a lot short, depending on how many people have decided it’s now okay to read as long as they want) to get things back on time. So by going over you’re punishing the people after you for what the person before you got clean away with. (So yes, I had to go up and tell the priest it was time to leave. He understood and it was fine.)

You have to be very careful to start on time and end on time, so the other participants don’t hate you. Barging in five or more minutes before the starting time for your slot and interrupting the reading in progress to “set up” is not cool. If someone tries to do it to you, don’t stop reading. They may have already ruined your experience, but you can make damn sure they think twice before they do it to anybody else.

Conversely, quitting a couple minutes early so you have a chance to answer quick questions, remind everybody what the name of the thing you just read from is and when it’s coming out, offer bookmarks or other promo material, and start gracefully moving out into the hall so the next person can get ready to take over on time, is cool. If your audience has a lot of questions, tell them you need to leave the room for the next reader but will be happy to talk to them out in the hall.

Get to the reading early, slip in quietly, and sit in the back, so you can be ready to take possession of the room when the other person finishes. Don’t have an elaborate “set up.” I usually have the ms I’m reading from, the little card with my name on it that the con provided (do use this, so people can tell they’re at the right reading when they come in late), and a copy of the book or print out of the cover to hold up briefly. Don’t force promo material on people. Put it somewhere the audience can get to it and mention that it’s free for the taking. Keep a very close eye on the time. If people come in late, don’t stop. If the other programming is running late for some reason, people who wanted to attend your reading may arrive late. Don’t make them self-conscious.

And have fun. Because not everybody gets to do this, and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to do it. Don’t take anything about being a professional writer for granted.

(Big Rule: You don’t have to go to conventions if you don’t like them. Some writers tend to do well at cons because they started going to cons as fans, and continue to do it as pros because they enjoy it. Some writers have their first con experience as pros and find they enjoy it, some writers keep trying until they get better at it and start to enjoy it. Some writers just don’t like the interaction, the noise, the stress of being “on stage” and entertaining for panels and readings and for random conversations in hallways. And it is very stressful, even for people who enjoy cons. (And unless you’re a teacher and are used to talking to large groups for hours at a time, it can be physically and mentally exhausting.) Some writers find they still enjoy cons as an attendee, but not as a participant. If you don’t enjoy being on programming, don’t do it. If you hate being at a con and you hate being on programming, the audience can tell, and it’s not going to leave them with a good impression of you.)