Written missiles and how they may launch

The judge threw the book at him, is as we all know, merely metaphoric. A courtroom fancy that, on the odd occasion, one is sure, a judge would have liked to have engaged in for real.

Several of us have witnessed Judge Judy hurl the book, an anthology of books so to speak, at plaintiffs or defendants who have wasted her and the court’s time with trivial matters; for, after all, the court doors are not thrown open each day so that its legal practitioners can engage in games of trivial pursuit.

Yet, all this constitutes, albeit in a symbolic way, a ‘book launch’. More people, however, are familiar with this very form: The one that involves an author sitting behind a pile of his books, pen in hand and reflexes at the ready. Pen, of course, to lavishly autograph copies that may be bought; for publishers tag on a book-selling segment to the aforementioned ‘launch’. Attendees are expected to attend with sufficient money in their wallets to at least buy their bus/train fare home and along with that a copy of the newly ‘launched’ book which can then be perused at leisure on the ride home, the action of perusing operating in either of two modes: With delight, or with growing dismay at having parted with valuable money.

But by that time, it’s all a bit too late; a copy of the book has been sold. So yes, pen in hand, is for the purpose of affixing a personal signature to the pages, usually a front page, accompanied by a throwaway comment of good will, such as ‘All the best’, or ‘Good wishes’, or, in some instances a personalised comment that may be requested and dictated by the buyer, such as ‘To Will & Grace, happy reading’.

Which is, of course, presumptuous on the writer’s part, but seeing as he didn’t dictate the lines we’ll let that pass. Or, in other instances, an even longer personalised comment, ‘To Will & Grace, Many hours I promise of enjoyment, or a full refund ...’ Whereupon the author, who is already busy making the dictated inscriptions mechanically, suddenly realises he is selling a copy to a legal firm.

Will & Grace are not hubby and wife. So having been suckered in, he continues to take the dictated passage to its very end. Authors are sometimes warned by their agents about losing focus and getting distracted during a book signing.

The second point, about sitting behind a pile of books, reflexes at the ready, is because hordes of readers are likely to have obtained a copy of the book in advance and read it already. So they attend the formal launch with pre-formed opinions, some of them at odds with the author’s philosophy.

Incidents of ‘surprise attacks’ and literal book launches have been reported in the press, although these generally take place at book signings rather than book launches. Still, it is good to be prepared.

Two tips for the uninitiated book launch author: Exercise ‘the duck’ well in advance, if signing copies seated. Or, if standing, which position is recommended although less dignifying, practice the dance called ‘The Politician’ which is not that difficult really: ‘One step forward, two steps back and then one quick step to the side’. This is guaranteed to wreak confusion with a book thrower’s aim.

“And with all that in mind,” said my prankster friend, Barney, “all the very best.”

Barney was seeing me off at the airport in Sydney recently. He is not going to be present, thankfully, at the launch on June 16, at Hotel Connemara. I wouldn’t have invited him in the first place, knowing his penchant for a good prank; and seeing as this is all virgin territory for me. Double Cream, Memsahib? my long-gestating novel in verse finally gets to see the light of day. Courageously, I invite all my readers. Meanwhile, I have been exercising vigorously, envisioning the critics sharpening their pencils.

Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.