Don’t let anyone tell you …
Now, I’m not a ‘bookmark’ kind of girl, so my agent (the quick-selling-but- still-patient Holly Root) and an agent-friend of hers (the knowledgeable-and-generous Colleen Lindsay) and I were talking promo items for giveaway. Tchotchkes for and Falling, Fly needed to be inexpensive enough for me to hand them out freely, but not cheesy. They needed to be tied to the book, but self-explanatory.
And then Colleen nailed it: Temporary tattoos. The book’s opening scene takes place in a tattoo parlor. Temporary tatts are inexpensive, interactive and unusual. Brilliant! I’d long thought about having the book’s first line — “The angel of desire is damned” — tattooed on my wrist, so that was my first instinct. But Scott (a.k.a. ‘Thrall’, my supportive, sexy and organized husband) pointed out the ’should-have-been obvious’. They should be Olivia’s tattoo: DAMNED.
From there, the idea went to my best friend Molly (artist, visionary and master of all things bacon) who crafted the elegantly sinister final design. I love them. We’re building a little folder for them, with the book’s cover and my URL, that we’ll seal with sealing wax and a “G” stamp. I’ll tuck them into copies when I sign stock at bookstores, and give them out at cons. Best of all, we’ve created a gallery where you can upload photos of yourself wearing your tattoo.
I took a mess of them to a Christmas party held by my local branch of a national writer’s organization (the encouraging and consoling, educating and imbibing RWA) and I gave them to my friends. A group of us, maybe six, were standing in a clump, talking as the party wound down. Another writer joined the clump. “Want one?” I asked and held out my little fistful of tattoos. She reached into the circle, read the tattoo, and flinched. Her hand physically drew back from the little inked piece of paper. She took one with a laugh, but I don’t expect she’ll be emailing a photo of herself wearing it into the gallery.
And the group got to talking. Where on your body do you put a word like that? Would you put it over your heart if breast cancer ran in the family? It’s a temporary tattoo. On a pregnant belly? It’s just a word. Don’t let anyone tell you words have lost their power.
Or that being a writer is a solo proposition.
Visit the How Art Thou Damned gallery to find out how to get a tattoo of your own.