Garth Stein, author of The Art of Racing in the Rain, raced between five bookstores in the Seattle, Wash., area on Saturday, participating at each as an official Indies First bookseller. Happily for us, he kept a journal of his bookselling adventures:
8 a.m. Liberty Bay Books, Poulsbo
I am pleasantly surprised by the Saturday morning crowd that drops by Suzanne Droppert's charming corner bookstore in search of coffee and conversation… and books to give for the holidays! Suzanne plies me with hot coffee and lefse, a traditional Scandinavian food. I find myself feeling apprehensive, as the only traditional Scandinavian food I know of involves an unpleasant texture, a lot of salt and cod. Much to my relief, lefse is a potato crepe filled with cinnamon sugar and butter, and is quite tasty.
My bookselling chops are put to the test as I try to move a pricey photographic history of abandoned mental institutions called Asylum. I am thrilled when one of my customers purchases the book to give to his psychiatrist for Christmas. Psych!
10:30 a.m. Eagle Harbor Book Company, Bainbridge Island
Arriving a little early for my shift, I check in, and David Guterson eyes me suspiciously. I am his competition. At the end of our shifts, our fellow workers will consider one of us a better bookseller than the other. I am determined to outsell him.
"Welcome to Eagle Harbor Books," I sing out to new customers entering the store. "My name is Garth, and I'll be your bookseller today. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to make your shopping experience more enjoyable!"
The people look at me like I'm deranged. Guterson is chatting up women visiting from San Diego. They're here for the Seahawks game on Monday. Good luck.
Lewis Mandell is selling books with us. He's shockingly good, rushing around the store and returning with stacks of books for his customers. I try to muscle in on his sale. Lewis's book is called What to Do When You Get Stupid. He tells me that after I hit 53, my brain will begin deteriorating and I'll get dumber and dumber until I die. I tell him I think I've already gotten a head start.
Time for the ferry to Seattle! I leave without getting a tally of sales, but I feel pretty good about my production, and David is still talking with the ladies from San Diego, so I think I got him.
1:15 p.m. Elliott Bay Book Company, Seattle
The fabulous Karen Maeda Allman greets me at Elliott Bay, which is teeming with the hipster crowd of Capitol Hill. The energy here is intense. Rick Simonson observes all with a sort of serene detachment, as the sharp ring of a bell indicates books needing to be wrapped by helper-elves. There's a lot of scurrying going on.
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| Tom Nissley, Maria Semple and Poppy Semple at Elliott Bay Book Company | |
I am ushered to the Booksellers for a Day table, which is staffed by Ryan Boudinot, Tom Nissley and Maria Semple. I sit next to Maria for the next 75 minutes, which is sort of like sitting at the center of a tornado. I'm carrying on four conversations--all of them with Maria--while pushing books on passers-by. I bag a few sales of Maria's book Where'd You Go, Bernadette?, which is an easy make in Seattle. I even offer to have her personalize them at no extra charge. I know I shouldn't take credit for this, but I do anyway, because I have no shame, and soon, my brain will start deteriorating, and where will I be then?
3 p.m. Queen Anne Book Company, Seattle
Rushing across town, I realize I haven't had anything to eat since my 8 a.m. lefse. I'm starving, but I don't have time to stop. I bump into Sherman Alexie as he's leaving Queen Anne and I'm entering. I wonder how he's been faring as a bookseller. I'm sure I can do better.
A half an hour into my stint, a young couple enters. They notice me and look crestfallen.
"Where's Sherman?" they ask.
"He was here from 2 to 3," I say.
"We really wanted Sherman. We didn't want you."
"I can hear you," I say.
"Sorry, it's just that--"
"No worries."
I whip out my phone and call down to Secret Garden Books in Ballard.
"This is Garth Stein," I say. "I'm a bookseller over here at Queen Anne Books. Is Sherman at your place right now?"
The woman tells me he'll be there until five.
"I have some folks here who want to meet him. I'm going to send them over. The code word is 'Rosebud.' Don't let Sherman leave until someone approaches him and says 'Rosebud.' "
The deal is made. Everything is good. I sell a few more books, get my replacement, Lesley Thomas, settled in, and I'm out.
4:20 p.m. Dick's Drive-In, Lake City
I'm faint from hunger. I need food. I stop at Dick's on 125th Street on my way up to Third Place Books for my final stint. I get a Deluxe and fries. There's nothing quite like Dick's when you've spent a long, hard day selling books.
5 p.m. Third Place Books, Lake Forest Park
This is it. The home stretch. My friends and superior booksellers, Wendy Manning and Steve Winter, greet me and get me set up. After the initial rush of customers who want to tell me about their dogs--almost all of whom are destined to be reincarnated as people--I settle into a groove and rock the sales. Hotel Angeline: A Novel in 36 Voices is a big hit here. So is Good as Gold by Joseph Heller, and I even sell a copy of Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook.
Then I'm faced with my biggest challenge of the day. A customer approaches me and asks for a recommendation. "I need to give a gift to my aunt," he says. "She's older and loves mysteries, but nothing too violent. What have you got?"
Hmm. Mysteries aren't my forte. I glance nervously at Wendy and Steve, who are scrutinizing my response. This is clearly my watershed moment.
"Is your aunt interested in European cities?" I ask.
Wendy smiles. She senses I'm on to something.
"There's a wonderful mystery writer who sets all her books in Paris," I say. "I've read a couple of them, and they're quite good. Excellent atmosphere. Cara Black. She's published by Soho Crime."
My customer looks hopeful.
"Hardcover?" he asks.
Oh! A monkey wrench! I feel like Ender when the colonel changes the rules of the game on him again!
"They're high quality trade paperbacks," I say. "Excellent design. I think you should take a look at them to see if they'll suit you."
"I'm on it!" Wendy says.
She rushes off and returns with two books, one hardcover and one paperback.
"We do have one of her books in hardcover," she says, quite pleased.
The customer takes the books and examines them.
"I'll take them both," he says. "Thanks for your recommendation."
"I'm sure your aunt will enjoy them," I say.
Steve and Wendy exchange a nod. They see I have potential.
It's six o'clock, and my stint is over. I feel drained. Sherman shows up to take my spot. He's like my shadow today. But he's about a foot taller than me, so he's like my uber shadow.
We exchange a congratulatory hug, and I snap a photo with my phone. I'm done for the day; he's got more work to do. I head for my car and catch the 7 o'clock ferry back to the island.
8:05 p.m. The Cabin
I arrive back at our cabin, and Comet, our dog, greets me like I've been gone a year.
"Can we play King of Tokyo now?" my six-year-old son asks before I get my coat off.
Oy. After a long day as a bookseller, now I have to get to work as a dad?
"Sure," I say. "Let's play. Set it up."
The game begins. Thankfully, my three sons gang up on me and trash my monster early, so I'm out.
"Sell any books?" my wife asks as I retreat to the kitchen.
"A couple."
"Are you going to become a bookseller now?"
"Naw, I'll leave it to the professionals," I say. "I'm really better as a pinch seller."
But they know what I'm capable of now, I think. My bookseller friends know I've got some chops. And they know where to find me if they need me. Until then, I've got a book of my own to finish.