The following is from Wendy Werris, our intrepid reporter at the
Southern California Booksellers Association's annual show and Authors
Feast held last weekend in Los Angeles. (Werris is a former
bookseller, a former publisher, a sales rep, an author escort, photographer
and last but not least, now an author.)
Mea culpa! Shelf Awareness invited me to cover the action at the annual
SCBA trade show in Los Angeles this weekend, but my reportage turned
into a rather slaphappy medley of narcissism. I hope you'll forgive me,
folks, but this was the first time I attended the event as an
author--not a publisher's rep or author escort.
For instance, I skipped the trade show altogether and didn't arrive
until 5:30 p.m. Once I explain my alibi, though, it's up to you to
discern if this was a faux pas.
Although it still seems bizarre to me, I am now an author. Having
attended most of the 14 SCBA autumn events to date, I always looked
forward to the evening gathering known as the Authors Feast. Sitting
at my designated table, it was a pleasure to meet a rotating duo of
authors as they were escorted about, table-to-table, between dinner
courses. On more than one occasion I was an escort myself, observing as
my author chatted it up with the booksellers and reps seated with them.
As Fran Lebowitz once said, "Always a godmother, never a God." For
years, my twist on this was, "Always an author escort, never an
author." Life has finally intervened, though, and my first book, An
Alphabetical Life: Living It Up in the World of Books, was released
this month by Carroll & Graf. When the SCBA board invited me to
participate in this year's Authors Feast, I happily accepted.
The 50 authors came together for an early dinner before heading into
the cocktail hour of the trade show. I sat at a table with Janet Fitch,
Kenneth Turan, Carolyn See and other friendly Southern California
writers who all made me feel at home. Much to my delight, PW's Bridget
Kinsella stopped by to chat with us and I was finally able to meet her
after seeing her byline for years. She's a delight, and has her own
first book coming out about women who fall in love with men in prison.
Over dessert, I couldn't help but eavesdrop on author Deborah Ginsburg
at the next table talking up Shelf Awareness with her group of writers.
Walking into a grand ballroom at the historic Biltmore Hotel, where the
trade show was wrapping up, I slowly made my way to the bar. Dutton's
Bookstore had a big presence at the event. It was wonderful to see
staff members from both their Brentwood and Beverly Hills stores
holding glasses of wine and engaged in conversation with reps from
Holtzbrink, Random, S&S and others in our L.A. tribe. But I needed
a drink, damn it, to calm my wayward nerves, and forged ahead to the
mirage-like bar in the far corner of the room.
My friend Sherrie Gallentine, to whom I sell books at Vroman's in
Pasadena, cut me off at the pass so we could share a hug. For a couple
of minutes we gossiped and chatted, I met her handsome boyfriend, and
just as I was getting my wallet out to pay for a drink, Sherrie
off-handedly said, "Do you know your book will be on the L.A. Times
bestseller list tomorrow?"
I admit to having dropped a lot of LSD in the '60s and experiencing a
variety of acid trips. Nevertheless, in the decades since passed, I
never had what Mr. Leary referred to as a "flashback"--until that
moment. Time stopped. I went deaf, saw stars, thought Sherrie was Mr.
Pickwick. Then I screamed. Finally, I wobbled to the bar.
Glenn Goldman, owner of Book Soup in West Hollywood, was standing in my
way. Grabbing his arm, I said, "Buy me a glass of wine, Goldman--I
made the bestseller list!" He seemed as stunned as I as we
toasted this milestone, a slot on the paperback non-fiction list:
number ten with a bullet!
Moments later I sat down at the first table I was assigned to for the
Feast, where my escort was Melony Vance from Books in Nooks, Julian,
Calif. She introduced me to the others at the table, who ate the
appetizer course as I talked about An Alphabetical Life with each of
them. To my right sat Glenn Geffcken, senior project manager for the
L.A. Times Festival of Books. He's been at the helm there since 1999
and since then, he told me, "Books have changed my life. I love this
job!"
Moving on to my second table assignment, I was met by Amy Pickell of
Warwick's in La Jolla, who moonlights as the secretary of SCBA. As my
tablemates consumed their Mystery Fowl, I chatted with Debbie Mitsch,
the owner of Mystery Ink, who was forced to close her bookshop
last year because of a rent increase. Now operating as an Internet
business, Debbie hopes (as do I) to see the store re-open in the near
future.
Also at the table were Kim Dower, book publicist extraordinaire, and
her client Karen Mack, co-author of Literacy and Longing in L.A. When
the book won the SCBA award for best novel of the year, our table made
so much noise I thought my wine glass would break.
Anne Mery of the Grove bookstore in San Diego greeted me warmly at my
final table of the Feast. As I devoured my second dessert of the night,
Anne told me that she's had to approach her business with a creative
open-mindedness. In addition to books, the Grove now also sells yarns,
furniture, clothing and art. "We own our building, too," Anne
added. "It's the only way we can survive these days." Sadly I
heard many similar tales at the SCBA Authors Feast. Every story of a
struggling independent bookstore makes me more determined to spread the
word of their plight. On the eve of my book tour for An Alphabetical Life,
I'm reminded that wherever I make an appearance, it's my responsibility
to urge people to continue--and increase--their patronage of our
beloved indies. It will be my privilege to do so.