Melissa Lion is a writer who was a bookseller for five years, most recently as events coordinator at DIESEL, A Bookstore in Oakland, Calif. She is the author of two YA novels, Swollen, a Book Sense pick, and Upstream, which is under option for a motion picture. She now lives in Portland, Ore. Lion's How to Talk to the People in the Bookstore: A Guide for Booksellers originally appeared in Footnotes, the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association newsletter, archived here.
I didn't always interact with the people in the bookstore in the best way possible. There was the time I stood next to Khaled Hosseini and inhaled, eyes closed, and then swooned because he smelled so damn good. There was the time I told an irate customer that if she was so concerned about our lack of a dump for Bill O'Reilly's latest title, she could gather some cardboard from in back and craft one herself. Maybe if I had this handy guide, these things wouldn't have happened. No, they still would have. But sometimes we all need a little help in the interacting-with-other-humans department. I hope this helps on those days when you're out of the hottest-selling book, and last night was the night the staff decided to go out for just one drink, and the manager has told you, for the 10th time, to go circulate.
1) Look customers in the eye and say hello. This prevents shoplifting, but it also makes customers feel like they can talk to you too. I live in Portland now. Home of Powell's City of Books. It's a city. Of books. I can't find anything in there. My first few trips, I'd stand in the section and squeak "Excuse me," as booksellers passed me right by. It's intimidating. It's scary. The first person who greeted me I clung to for dear life. "Help me find the biography of Jacqueline Susann," I said. See, Powell's has no bio section. I know, right? Well, all bookstores have these little organizational quirks. The customer might not expect that and need a little help. So say hello. As to why I was reading a bio of the author of Valley of the Dolls, that's another list.
2) When the store doesn't have the book, say, "Let me check my warehouse." Not let me check the distributor or Ingram. Let me check my warehouse. Customers will be very impressed that you have a warehouse, and it makes them think it's less of a hassle than special ordering. Granted, I ripped this idea from one of my former places of employment. We also called Costco our warehouse.
3) Please do check the warehouse and special order the title. Please do not tell the customer to go to a "corporate bookstore," as a young man instructed me to do the other day when I asked for a front-list Valentine's anthology by a major publisher.
4) "May I help the next person in line?" Instead of, "May I help who's next?" Doesn't that feel better? Feel crisper and more professional? More grammatically correct? I feel better just thinking it.
5) Show off a bit. When a customer asks for a book, don't jump on the computer. Take them to the section and look for it. You know the author; you know where the book lives. Go for a walk. If it's not there, go back to the computer, look it up, and then say it's at your warehouse. Customers will follow you all over the store. They have no idea you don't keep the stock totals in your brain. Once you've looked, they're yours; they'll wait while you special order.
6) Stop talking. Know when your time is up with a customer. Sure you know every nuance of the manga vs. graphic novel debate, but please. Let the customer revel in your genius. Spread the love a little. Go say hello to another customer.
7) Authors. Authors are a tough bunch. I've had some of my most frustrating moments at the hands of authors. Like the woman who, after my co-worker mistakenly thought she was a customer and said we had no customer restroom, straightened her shoulders and said, "I'm no customer. I'm an author." Or the man who did not respond to me at all. Not when I stuck my hand out to introduce myself or when I asked if he'd like some water or if he needed a pen. Instead, he would turn to my male co-worker and speak with him.
But when I started thinking that authors are really a nervous bunch who, in many cases, have a false sense of themselves, I realized that it was okay. I was okay. They'd be gone in a few hours and then I'd gossip about them to anyone who would listen. I felt better. So ask yourself, is this person being a schmuck because she's nervous or because she is a schmuck?
If he or she is a schmuck, I give you permission to say, "I appreciate your coming to read here. However you are treating me like I am not an actual human being. It is not good for me nor is it good for your career because I will get on the bookseller bat phone and tell all my bookseller friends about you. So chill, 'kay?"
8) You know the guy who comes in with the big bag dragging behind him and he sits in a meeting with the various book buyers and then he leaves and you think, well, who was that? That was the publisher rep. Walk up to him. Offer some water. Say, "These are my recommendations," and walk him around the store. Ask for his e-mail address. Hand him your contact info. Wait a week and watch the envelopes of free books start coming to the store with YOUR name on them. Or better, give him your home address.
9) Say hello to the UPS or FedEx person. Know that person's name. It creates good will and prettier boxes, and I'm pretty sure that on the days I was singing the praises of the FedEx lady, the books in the boxes were magically more interesting.
10) I needed a 10th thing, and I wish I could fill this spot with the correct response for that wonderful moment when a customer says, "I'll just get it on Amazon." Over five years, I tried to inform them about how that would harm their community. I've said nothing and walked away. I've smiled, and said thank you. Nothing works. The sale is already gone. Here's the best I can come up with: when the traitor leaves, check around you for actual customers, take a deep breath, and whisper, 'go suck it.' Phew. But, really, check around you before doing that because the ears have walls, if you catch my drift.
[Many thanks to Melissa Lion and the PNBA!]