You may have heard the tale: George Bernard Shaw finds a copy of one of his works in a used bookshop and quickly notices it is signed: "To ___, with esteem, G.B. Shaw." Buying the volume, he subsequently returns it to the original owner with an additional inscription: "With renewed esteem, G.B. Shaw."
Could be apocryphal, but that doesn't matter. I love the story anyway and think of it every time I cull my book collection and decide to part with a signed or, more reluctantly, a personally inscribed book. It's usually a space decision, prompted by the business I'm in; I've received (acquired is too ambitious a word for the way in which my books accumulate) many signed editions over the years. Some mean a great deal to me; others not so much. I guess that's a confession. Sometimes, forgive me, I abandon signed books.
Not yours, though.
Obviously I'm no collector. There are, however, many books on my shelves that I'd never part with for reasons that can be emotional as well as intellectual--an attachment to the memory of a great author event, for example.
But where have all those exiled signed books gone? This question, along with the Shaw anecdote, occurred to me recently when Janet Geddis, owner of Avid Bookshop, Athens, Ga., shared the story of a visit to her shop by poet and noted Rumi translator Coleman Barks, who lives in the city. 
"He asked me where the local shelf was so that he could sign any copies of his books we had in stock," Janet recalled. "He reached over for a used copy of The Drowned Book and, when he opened it to sign, saw that he had already signed it years ago to a friend named Charlie. I was embarrassed for a minute, hoping he wouldn't be upset that Charlie had passed the book along to Avid. 'Well, you could sign it again,' I said with a laugh. I walked away to ring up another customer and forgot about the book. An hour later when it came time to close up, I remembered the book and opened it to the title page. Coleman had signed it twice after all. Today's autograph reads, 'Charlie Gardner left this book, Coleman Barks.' "
Geddis noted that she is also not "a big collector of signed copies or celebrity autographs. I'd rather have a cool interaction with someone and not have any documentation than simply have their name scrawled on a book for me. Of course I'm also in a rather spoiled position now: I get to go to book events several times a year and, as a bookseller, have a great excuse chat with well-known authors. It's for business, after all."
And the business of signing can be rewarding, in many ways. During the four months that Avid has been open, internationally known chef Hugh Acheson (Top Chef) "has signed hundreds of copies of his book A New Turn in the South for us," said Geddis. "It's been really fun and rewarding to have Hugh personally inscribe books for people all over the country--even the world--before we ship them off. He's pretty game when it comes to signing, too, stopping by every month or so to inscribe big stacks of cookbooks."
Acheson also fields personal requests. Geddis said an Avid customer "called in an order for her husband before Christmas and asked if we could have Hugh personalize it. 'My husband has such a man-crush on Hugh,' she said, and then decided what the perfect inscription would be. Hugh saw the request, laughed, and signed as instructed: 'Dear So&So: I love how much you love me. Eat well! Hugh Acheson.' That story still brings a smile to my face."
In addition to traditional book-signings, Geddis asks visiting authors and illustrators to sign Avid's bathroom Door O' Fame: "It's pretty cool to look over the people who have been in our store in the last few months of business--I'm pretty sure we're going to fill up all the available space and have to start having authors sign the opposite side of the door within a year or so."
Those are nice autograph stories, but what does fate hold in store for my abandoned inscribed books, now buried on dusty shelves in used bookstores nationwide? Suddenly I remember the terrible floor planks in Edgar Allan Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart." Even if I can invoke plausible deniability for the "To Bob" editions out there, I fear the "To Bob Gray" copies may yet return and haunt me.--Robert Gray, contributing editor (column archives available at Fresh Eyes Now)
