November - December 2003

Promoting at the Movies
by Dotti Enderle

Admit it. We've all done it. Who hasn't sat in the movie theater fifteen minutes before show time, popcorn and Coke in hand, watching the ads and trivia flashing with synchronicity, and imagining our book covers up there? Haven't we all dreamed at one time or another of having our books at the movies?

Months before the release of my first book, The Lost Girl, I decided to make that dream a reality. After all, how expensive could it be to have my own ad up there with all the local realtors and dentists? My mind made up, I paid particular attention the next time I went to the cinema. After a dozen or so advertisements, the one I needed appeared. "To advertise on this screen call 1-800-SCREEN1." I quickly jotted it down.

Although I didn't get home until 10:30 that night, and it was a Friday, I still called. I got a recording asking me to leave my name, my business name, and phone number. Someone would get back to me in two or three business days. That next Tuesday, I got the call. Being just an author, and not a realtor or dentist, I didn't think the saleslady would take me seriously. Of course my main concern was cost. She put my mind at ease saying, "You can have two weeks of screen time for as little as $400.00." Just $400.00? That's great! After all, my book was the first of a series, and promoting book
one would be promoting the entire series. I assured myself that in the long run, it would be worth every penny. The
saleslady set up a lunch date with me so we could go over the specifics. I dressed up, gathered my book cover graphics,
business cards, and checkbook. After all, I was planning to write that $400.00 check on the spot.

We agreed to meet at a local salad bar near my chosen theater. Why that particular theater? It was a mall cinema in an upper middle-class family area with two chain bookstores next door, and one a half-mile down the road. It was a win-win situation.

I eagerly showed up at 11:30 as agreed. I waited by the door until 11:35, then went ahead and bought my salad. I sat eating for another ten minutes. At approximately 11:45, she clambered in, tripped, and dropped the contents of her briefcase all over the floor. I liked her right away.

After repeating a dozen or so apologies, she got her salad, and we ate and chatted. She wanted to know all about my book. She shoveled in the romaine while keeping intense concentration on how I'd mapped out a plan to get my series on the New York Times Bestseller List for children's titles. Our conversation was polite and to the point, yet separated by that thick slab of business ice that takes several luncheons to chisel away. But somehow that area of town came into the conversation, and I mentioned that my daughters took classes at the dance studio down the street. What a coincidence! Her daughters danced there too. After telling her my children's names, it turned out that my older daughter had given private lessons to her daughter, and that cold ice wall melted faster than the Wicked Witch of the West.

Chit-chat and small talk over, she took out her cost schedule and calculator. What could I get for $400.00? Five screens
at the twenty-four screen complex for two weeks. Just five screens? "But we can do better than that," she assured me. Better meaning more screens at a discount. She consulted number tables on preprinted forms, and diligently punched the calculator keys, muttering things like, "Ten screens...fifteen percent... additional discount," and finally, "Here's what I can
do." She turned the paper around and flashed a Dale Carnegie smile. Twelve screens. Two weeks. $907.20. I didn't smile back. That was more than double the $400.00 check I'd plan to write. But really, what good is five lousy screens? And I didn't get to select on which screens it would show. How could I be sure it wouldn't end up in five auditoriums with R-rated movies? I needed kids to see this ad. I repeated my mantra, Promoting book one is promoting the whole series. Okay, why not? This was March. My book was due out in September, and I'd picked the two weeks around Thanksgiving break for my ad to run. That was prime time. The new releases for that November were The Santa Clause 2, Eight Crazy Nights, and of course the biggie, Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets. With twelve screens, thousands of kids would see my ad. She assured me that I didn't have to write the check right them. I could pay out the ad, making the final payment in November. I could handle that. We sealed the deal, then she mentioned the $225.00 setup fee for the production crew to make my ad. Gulp! What the heck. This was my dream. My big promotional moment. The first step to the New York Times Bestseller List.

That summer we got together to design the ad. That was fun. I pretty much had full reign. I'd never designed an ad before, but I knew exactly what I wanted, and she didn't argue a bit. She collected the setup fee, and promised that within a few days I'd get an email with my ad graphic, and a chance to approve or make changes. The email came, and like my manuscripts, I got a critique from other children's writers. Nope. This one wouldn't work for various reasons. I made the changes. Nope. Let's try again. Uh-uh. I finally printed it out and took it to a friend of mine who sold newspaper ads for a living. She quickly scratched and marked, and I was now armed with the best ad that cinema patrons would ever see. It'd blow them right off their sticky seats. Approved!

I went about my business for the next few months -- book launch, signings, sending out postcards. November came at last. I carefully chose my movie time because my ad was only running on one side of the cinema complex, and I didn't want to buy a ticket that would stick me on the other side. This was just too important to leave to chance. I was assured that the movie time I'd picked for Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets was in Theater 12, my side. I sat intently, afraid to blink. I waited. I worried. What if they hadn't delivered the slides on time? What if they'd put them on the other side of the theater instead? What if they didn't place it correctly into the projector, and my book cover was upside down or cut in half? What if -- There it was! My book cover. Bigger than me. Bigger than Hollywood. Bigger than life. And for a full eight seconds (give or take), it took my breath away.

I only got to see my ad one other time during that two week period. I'd planned to set up a movie date with all my friends, show up thirty minutes early, and beam with excitement as they all cooed over how fantastic it looked. But November is a busy month, particularly around Thanksgiving. That never happened. A few friends did tell me later that they saw it.

Promoting book one is promoting the entire series. That's probably true, but to the tune of $1,132.20? For that amount
I could have taken out an ad in the Entertainment section of a major newspaper or magazine. In retrospect, would I do it
again? Probably not. Am I glad I did? You bet!