The first Saturday in December, University Book Store in Seattle, Wash., opened its first "Holiday Advice Booth," the brainchild of Stesha Brandon, the store's events manager. Modeled after Lucy's psychiatrist booth in "Peanuts," book advice was offered for 25 cents, with the money raised going to the store's Scholarship Endowment Fund, which helps financial-aid students purchase course materials and textbooks. It was staffed in one-hour shifts from 10 to 6; advisors included Brad Craft, the store's used-books buyer, Nancy Pearl, the World's Librarian, two sales reps--Dan Christaens from Norton and David Glenn from Random House--and me. Stesha was our runner (and supplier of homemade baked goods). We had a blast.
David had the first shift and said, "I thoroughly enjoyed talking to the customers and trying to help them arrive at suitable gifts. It's a fun challenge to listen to what they have in mind, then trying to come up with a suitable array of titles that might fit the general bill. During my hour it was 'My brother-in-law loves to read about the Founding Fathers,' or 'My book group has their gift exchange this weekend and I need some suggestions about great recent novels, but they have to have won some sort of prize.' I just tried to suggest a handful of titles for each person to check out, and it sure seemed that most of them ended up buying something. For me, being able to speak directly to the buying public was a genuine pleasure. Most important, the experience reminded me how important a bookstore staff really is, how much readers rely on the thoughtful advice of store staffers. And it also reminded me of what a pleasure it is to hit upon just the right book for a customer, how they appreciate that connection."
I took over from David, and my first customer was a snap--she wanted validation of her book club pick, Metzger's Dog by Thomas Perry (Random House). Being a fan of Perry, and of that book in particular, made it too easy. I confidently sipped my espresso. Next up was a couple every bookseller dreams of--they had a list of at least 10 people and could describe each one concisely. Angela is in her 30s, an activist for gay and environmental causes. The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel (Houghton Mifflin), of course, and Take This Bread by Sarah Miles (Ballantine). Matthew, in his 20s, likes fantasy and science fiction. Mark Barrowcliffe's memoir, The Elfish Gene (Soho Press). Man, this is simple. Jack, the brother-in-law, who likes nature and reading: The Lost Art of Walking by Geoff Nicholson (Riverhead). I hit a double with Rock On by Dan Kennedy (Algonquin), since they had two music lovers on their list, and they also took The Oxford Book of Great Music Writing (University of Arkansas Press). Then they liked The Warrior by Frances Richey (Viking) for the woman who is a poet and peace activist and Craig Childs's The Animal Dialogues (Little, Brown). Wow. I thought I'd won the customer lottery. This was heady stuff! But I should have remembered my retail days more clearly.
I was brought back to reality by the next woman, who was shopping for a scientist. Fortunately, right by the booth was a display of recent science books. But no, they didn't work. Does he like nature? No. Does he travel? No. Does he like fiction? No, he thinks it's a waste of time. Does he cook? No. I start looking around for help, but everyone's busy. Desperation time. We've all been there. Is he interested in China? I had no idea where I came up with that. Well, perhaps China . . . The last I saw her, she was immersed in The Last Days of Old Beijing by Michael Meyer (Walker). Maybe it wouldn't work for the giftee, but it seemed to work for her. My last customer was teasing me when he described a book by a guy, with a green cover, about so big. Stump-the-clerk time. I countered with Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything Vegetarian (Wiley). It all came back to me--the thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of the match, the pleasure in making a customer happy and, of course, the hopefully infrequent teeth-gnashing frustration. Yes, this book does come in paper . . . let me just tear the hard cover off for you. But really, echoing David Glenn, the delight in making a connection over a book is just the best. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.--Marilyn Dahl