We all receive anonymous pitch letters every day. Some of us also send
them. We would like to communicate personally with every potential
customer, but that just isn't possible. Even in the world of
books--which still relies substantially upon passion for product and
word-of-mouth sales--the indistinctive salutation is a standard
business practice.
Dear Bookseller
Generic salutations are a common ingredient in the letters sent with
advance readers copies (or tipped in as first pages). It's conceivable
that these letters are an effective sales tool somewhere, but they seem
to me an invitation not to read further; a sign that whatever follows
was written for an indistinguishable audience.
If a salutation is, as most dictionaries would have it, a gesture or
phrase employed to greet, welcome or recognize someone, then how
welcome or recognized can we feel when opening letters that begin Dear
Booksellers, Dear Book Buyer, Dear Friend(s), Dear Friend of Books,
Dear Reader, Dear Colleague, Dear Local Bookseller, Dear Independent
Bookseller, Dear Suspense Lover, etc.?
And what can I possibly think of a letter I found just a few days ago
in an ARC, with the salutation "Dear Editor/Producer"? Now, that's
narrowing your focus to the point of no return (or at least no read) in
a galley sent to a bookstore.
The mysterious, perhaps arcane, art of the salutation has attracted my
attention lately because it is morphing into an online variation that
seems to be a tiresome new version of an already tired old model.
My inbox is loaded daily with form letters from publicists asking
whether I would like to have ARCs sent to me. This approach presumably
saves on blind galley mailings, but even in this new strategy the
anonymity remains.
There is one notable difference online from the traditional "Dear
Bookseller," "Dear Reader" or "Dear Blogger" snail mail letters I
receive. E-mail marketers tend to opt for cheery and informal
salutations, as perhaps befits the medium:
Hey all
Hi all
Sometimes "Dear Bookseller" still shows up online; however, just as
often there is no salutation at all. We skip the formalities and move
directly to the pitch.
Do we need salutations anymore? Although it may seem I've been arguing
against them, I don't think it's quite that simple. In fact, I suspect
that a well-conceived and executed personal salutation is still very
effective, online as well as off.
Consider the challenge. Let's pretend I'm a frontline bookseller (okay,
we don't have to pretend). I have access at any given moment to dozens,
even hundreds, of ARCs and they keep arriving daily. I can't stop them.
A biblio-cyborg, I've been forever merged into the infinite and
universal master database of publishing industry mailing lists.
There is no escape now.
The ARCs arrive with computer-generated form letters featuring generic
salutations, synopses, blurbs and hype. The letters tell me how much
the people who signed them love all those books and what great reads I
have in store for me, if only I'll cooperate.
That's okay. I don't mind a template letter. I understand that a lot of
galleys have to go out and individual letters can't be written for each
bookseller. A marketing person at a respected publishing house once
told me that there were times he almost didn't care where his ARCs
went, so long as they left the office and reduced the ever-growing
stacks. Most booksellers understand how the game is played. They don't
even mind playing. They just don't like to be played.
And ARCs do need good homes. Most end up abandoned.
Dear ARCs
There is, however, a little trick to get them a second look, perhaps even a read.
Here's a confession and a tip: I've always had a weakness for
handwritten salutations. It's a relatively small gesture, an added
touch that tells me something about the person sending that particular
galley. Booksellers have egos, too. When I receive an ARC with that
subtle, ink-stained sign of professional and human recognition--Dear
Robert--I pause for a moment. Then I take the next step. I open the
book.
And that's how books are sold. Someone opens them.
The art of the salutation is a microcosm of the art of writing anything
well. It is all about inviting your reader pay attention and having
that reader accept the invitation. "Dear Bookseller" may be a
salutation, but it is not an invitation.--Robert Gray (column archives
available at Fresh Eyes Now)