Lavish Book Parties Do Not Meet the Moment

There has been a lot of talk about book parties making a "comeback." Some of them are tone-deaf.

Hello from the road, heading home from Boston (which means the editing of this newsletter may not be at its best!). I was on a panel at Emerson College Tuesday night for the Women’s National Book Association’s Boston chapter. We discussed making a literary community and strategies for platform building. I enjoyed meeting some of you IRL!

My husband noted that when I spoke, I did so with passion for the book community, and I hope he’s right. My aim is always to create a connection, which I think this newsletter accomplishes, and that is why I want to discuss book parties.

Lately, there’s been a lot of chatter about book parties making a comeback. Aside from the pandemic, they never really went away. Everything old in publishing is new again—sometimes.

I’ve planned more book parties than I care to remember, but let us take a stroll down memory lane (or, the memory lane my perimenopausal brain will allow):

2002, NYC: I worked with GQ to throw a big publication party for Joe Pantoliano (aka Joey Pants, aka Ralphie from The Sopranos). One night, he called to scream at me while inebriated because Dutton wouldn’t pick up some of the tab. I won’t tell you what I said to him, but I won, and after that, he called me by a sexist nickname I won’t repeat here. FUN. There were women in glass-enclosed platforms at the party. Why? Who knows. The book sold just okay.

Fall 2007, NYC: Atria Books published Shirley MacLaine’s book “Sage-ing While Aging.” I was charged with arranging a cocktail party at The Palace Hotel. We rented The Library. Add appetizers/booze, and it cost in the $30,000 range. The book did “meh.”

May 2008, Los Angeles, BookExpo: Picture this, if you will—Atria is publishing a photography book of Prince’s 21 Nights at the O2 Arena in London in Fall 2008. Somehow, we convinced Prince to let us host a party at his rented mansion in LA. It was insane—and insanely expensive. But hey, when do you ever see Sylvester Stallone mingle with book nerds?

October 2008, NYC, Prince Part 2: With the help of my publicity department at Atria, we put on a Prince concert with 10 days’ notice. Yes, you read that right. After getting us out of a $25,000 contract at a different venue, we settled on The Gansevoort Hotel’s rooftop. I won’t get too in-depth here, but I believe the final PR cost for all things Prince was $ 125,000. The book tanked.

I could go on, but you get the gist. Book parties can be an immense pain and a budget drain. I am not talking about nice launches at bookstores. It’s the parties that are written about as if we should all clamor to attend. Those parties are less about community and more about bragging rights, which, in this day and age, really?

While it’s true that book publicists are stressing about what coverage is available for their authors, fancy book parties aren’t the answer to sales. Nor are they the answer when we are living through a time when NPR and PBS are being defunded, libraries are struggling, millions of people are due to lose SNAP benefits in November, and the U.S. is in, for lack of a better word, disarray.

On the one hand, we could argue that things are so bad that book parties are a form of antidote. On the other hand, the industry should adopt a more moderate approach. I’m all for celebrating a book’s publication, but not at the expense of other authors, and certainly not in lavish ways. If a publisher can’t allocate marketing dollars to some of its midlist authors, it shouldn’t overspend on parties. There is also the issue of publishing salaries and author advances that barely pay someone’s bills. Oh, and thousands of media layoffs.

As I posted in Notes last night, I don’t like to publicize my good deeds, but if this inspires someone, it’s worth it. The author Tarryn Fisher sometimes posts “Small Needs” on Instagram, where her followers can comment on a need and other followers can meet it. I’ve participated in this for a while, and have paid the balance for a class at community college so someone could graduate, bought groceries (this is a big one), sent gift cards for books + coffee, sent a mom and her daughter for a day of self-care, and more. What you may not know or realize is that some people in the comments who need help are part of the literary community. I’m thinking through some ways to help folks, and will let you know what I come up with.

I help people because I know life can change in an instant, and I am aware of how fortunate I have been. I also grew up broke. My dad had to take out loans to send me to Catholic school because the public schools where I grew up in NJ weren’t great. Bill collectors used to call our house looking for my parents. They could never afford to buy a house. I used to wish I could ask Santa for one just like the little girl in “Miracle on 34th Street.”

A couple of years ago, I attended a gathering in NYC to celebrate the publication of a friend’s book. The soiree took place at someone’s apartment, where we enjoyed wine, cheese, and sweets. We chatted about the book and the industry. All had a good time. The flashiness of a particular kind of book party may get you mentioned in Page Six or in New York Magazine’s “Book Gossip” newsletter. Still, it won’t get your book noticed by the everyday people who are on a budget and must consider whether to part with their money for your work.

Would adding a charitable aspect to some book parties be a buzzkill? I don’t know, but it’s worth finding out.

END NOTES:

Next on my speaking agenda:

November 23, 2025: Jewish Writers Conference

March 4-7, 2026: AWP

More to come. If you are interested in having me speak at a conference, on a panel, or as a guest lecturer, please email me: kathleen@kmspr.com