Writer vs Bookstore
Jun. 14th, 2010 06:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Lynn Flewelling (
otterdance) just posted about going into bookstores with her writerly hat on.
Okay, let's make it a meme.
I've been doing this a loooong time. Way back when my first acknowledged novel came out, the local paper tried to stir up controversy with the local branch of the major national charity I'd used as background and theme. Blessedly, they declined to play - but a few weeks after publication I found them collecting in the public square right outside the bookstore. When I went in, I found someone had raided the "Fairy Tales" sign from the children's section and planted it atop the display of my book. I have never believed that this was coincidence...
The staff at that store got to know me well. One time, I walked in to be greeted with a cheerful wave and, "Chaz! Over here!" by the woman on the till, who was apparently busy with a customer - who had just that moment said, "I'm looking for a book by, um, Chaz Brenchley, I think the name is..." She was a little flummoxed to find herself being served by the author himself, but the book was a gift for her daughter, so she was glad enough to have it signed and so forth.
Another time, I found the staff in giggles because a customer had brought one of my books back: "I bought this here yesterday, and it's been scribbled in!" Um, yes, sir, that's the author's signature...
Or there was the woman I spotted in the queue for the till, sporting a copy of one of mine. I went up and offered to sign it for her, and she stared at me like I was something dangerous, dropped the book on the nearest table and scuttled out of there. Memo to self: never offer to sign anything until it's actually been sold...
Best story, though? Best story ever? I was walking home from town, and a Very Large Man loomed up beside me and said, "I know you. You're an author." Um, I said. Yes, I am. "I know," he said, "because I used to be a security guard at Blackwell's bookshop. And you used to come in every day in your long coat, and you never bought anything. I was sure you were shoplifting, but I could never catch you at it. I used to follow you around, but no joy. In the end I went to the manager and showed him the CCTV footage of you. 'Oh no,' he said, 'that's not a shoplifter. That's an author.'"
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Okay, let's make it a meme.
I've been doing this a loooong time. Way back when my first acknowledged novel came out, the local paper tried to stir up controversy with the local branch of the major national charity I'd used as background and theme. Blessedly, they declined to play - but a few weeks after publication I found them collecting in the public square right outside the bookstore. When I went in, I found someone had raided the "Fairy Tales" sign from the children's section and planted it atop the display of my book. I have never believed that this was coincidence...
The staff at that store got to know me well. One time, I walked in to be greeted with a cheerful wave and, "Chaz! Over here!" by the woman on the till, who was apparently busy with a customer - who had just that moment said, "I'm looking for a book by, um, Chaz Brenchley, I think the name is..." She was a little flummoxed to find herself being served by the author himself, but the book was a gift for her daughter, so she was glad enough to have it signed and so forth.
Another time, I found the staff in giggles because a customer had brought one of my books back: "I bought this here yesterday, and it's been scribbled in!" Um, yes, sir, that's the author's signature...
Or there was the woman I spotted in the queue for the till, sporting a copy of one of mine. I went up and offered to sign it for her, and she stared at me like I was something dangerous, dropped the book on the nearest table and scuttled out of there. Memo to self: never offer to sign anything until it's actually been sold...
Best story, though? Best story ever? I was walking home from town, and a Very Large Man loomed up beside me and said, "I know you. You're an author." Um, I said. Yes, I am. "I know," he said, "because I used to be a security guard at Blackwell's bookshop. And you used to come in every day in your long coat, and you never bought anything. I was sure you were shoplifting, but I could never catch you at it. I used to follow you around, but no joy. In the end I went to the manager and showed him the CCTV footage of you. 'Oh no,' he said, 'that's not a shoplifter. That's an author.'"