With a few exceptions, I really don’t care about owning a signed book. Like if someone gave me a signed copy of John Grisham’s A Time To Kill, I’d probably think, “Oh, that’s nice,” and put it away.
Or if I see some random author at a book signing in Barnes & Noble, the fact that I can owned a signed copy of his book and shake his hand in no way makes me more eager to purchase his book.
In fact, with the lone exception of David Foster Wallace, I can’t think of any author from the last 30 years who would make me want to own a signed copy of one of their books.
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