A *Day in the Life of a Bookseller
*Books, warts and all.
*Fictionalized for fun, a little cheeky, but kind of all true
Good day, here’s a sneak peek into the life of a bookseller.
Who will buy a book today?
11:07am - I slowly pull up to the shop while anxiously scanning for any early-bird customers who may have arrived before its proprietor. It wouldn’t be the first time. I don’t spot any inconvenienced customers peering in the windows or banging on the door, so I proceed to park. Today is off to a good start, I think.
11:12am - For five minutes now I’ve been struggling with the door lock, one hand on the handle and the other jiggling with the keyhole. I’m also holding a multitude of bags in my arms, like really, why did I even bring my laptop? I finally get the door open. Seriously, why does it have to be so hard?
11:45am - The lights are on, the open sign is out, and the door is open. No sign of customers.
12:01pm - I created a new book display on the front table (truth: I just swapped a few books with the display from the other room). I could really use another coffee, the first one was ages ago.
12:02pm - The lights are off, the open sign is back in, and the door is shut. Still no sign of customers.
12:15pm - Walking back with coffee, and ok fine, there’s a croissant in my bag. (workplace hazard: being neighbours with the most amazing patisserie). In my haste for caffeine I realize I forgot to hang a “Back Soon” sign on the door. I’m really hoping I didn’t miss anyone. What is it with this door? I can’t seem to unlock it. I’m trying to jam the key in, trying to line it up just so when my keys fall out of my hand. I bend to pick them up and in doing so I drop the mail tucked under my arm (had a lovely chat with the postmistress about her beautiful home-grown dahlias). I set my bag down on the bright yellow Muskoka chair, leave the mail where it is, and start again. It’s then I notice the coffee-stained yellow post-it note stuck on the window, the words “Back in 5 minutes” scribbled in faded red sharpie. How long has that been there, I wonder. I continue to fight with the 100-year-old lock, and make a mental note to dig out the WD-40. I hear the click, and I expertly position the left side of my body up against the door and give a good push causing my burning hot coffee to spill down my hand and onto my new cream-coloured linen dress. I step over the pile of mail, rip the sign off, and slam the door.
12:43pm - Playlist: Gentle Jazz Music at Cozy Outdoor Coffee Shop Ambience for Mood Booster & Study. Customer count: 0. Sales: 0. Day Total: $0.
1:01pm - The first customer of the day walks in. An elderly regular who orders from us quite frequently (mass markets: Stephen King and James Pattersons), and visits with us even more. We’re on his daily route: the bookstore, the post office, the hardware store, the grocery store, and then back again. No books to pick up today, so after a quick chat about the weather and health ailments, he’s off.
1:05pm - A couple of tourists walk in, but they don’t get much past the door before asking where they could find the public washrooms. I smile, give directions, and wish them a good day.
1:30pm - I decide to tackle the fiction room. Alphabetizing the shelves has become a full-time job in of itself. Today’s misdemeanors: I find an Atwood on the Kingsolver shelf, a Guy Gavriel Kay in on the Grisham shelf. I move Peggy back to her rightful place, top shelf A, and I sneak Guy before Demon Copperhead. I smile to myself because I know my colleague will find it next time she’s in and will put it back where I found it. It’s an unofficial game we booksellers play abiding by different rules. Alphabetically-speaking, where do you place authors who have more than two words to their name? Is it a middle name, or a surname? These are the things that keep us awake at night, as well as constantly alphabetizing.
2:15pm - I’m finally tidying up Gabrielle Zevin’s shelf when customer number two walks through the door. Turns out they’re looking for My Friends by Fredrik Backman, and just our luck we have one copy left. This book has been on a tear in recent weeks. Customer tally: 2. Sales: 1. Day Total: $28.34
2:17pm - I check my email, and voice messages. There’s a book club order for 8 copies of All Fours by Miranda July, a ticket purchase for an author event, and few vm’s from a customer checking the status of her book order, and Google wanting to verify our information.
2:19pm - Customer number 3. Looking for a copy of The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. While we usually have a copy lying about, despite its 1989 publication, I sent them in the direction of a very good second-hand shop nearby. Customers: 3. Sales: 1. Day Total: $28.34
2:35pm - It’s starting to pick up. A young mother and her toddler son come in search of boardbooks. They make out with I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen and the classic The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Receipt: $28.87 .Customers: 4 Sales: 2 Total: $57.17
2:45pm - It’s slowed right down. I turn off the jazz, enough of that. I switch to my own personal playlist: a little William Prince, Lord Huron, and Great Lake Swimmers. Alright, time for some social media posts. I try my hand at doing a video, apparently it’s the way to reach people these days on the ‘gram. Or so I’ve been told. The plan: I’ll pick five of my new favourite books and give a quick review of each. How bad can it be, I think. Well, as it turns out, pretty bad. Even though I spent years working in television, directing other people, I’m horrible at filming myself, and even worse at trying to be all the things: engaging, informative, and watchable. After about 58 attempts, I upload my reel, not because it’s finally good enough, but because I’m bored and tired. I’m also hungry.
3:07pm - I can’t help but think, shoulder season is not for the faint of heart
3:08pm - Two customers walk in simultaneously. I get prepared for the rush. I size them up to see who might need my help first. I veer off to the right and make my way to the well-dressed woman in her late 50s, leaving the millennial, who’s mid-conversation on her phone, to browse on her own. I suspect the woman is looking for her book club pick, and I seem to be spot on. It seems like everyone’s book club is reading Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon, which is also why I’m currently out of stock. She sighs, and says she’ll take a minute to see if anything else catches her eye. I search out the other customer who is now off the phone and deciding between two books. Have you read these, she asks, holding up Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt and Favourite Daughter by Morgan Dick. No, I have not, I confess (yes, it’s true, there are actually books in the store that we have not yet read). She’s looking for a paperback. We chat books for almost 10 minutes — my favourite part of my day — and she ends up buying The Capital of Dreams by Heather O’Neill (another book on my TBR list, but I’m a huge fan of O’Neill!), it’s also a hardcover, so there’s that. As I’m ringing up her sale I notice the book club woman is nowhere to be seen. Receipt: $36.74. Customers: 6 Sales: 3 Day Total: $93.91
3:36pm - I’m drinking the cold dregs of my coffee when I hear my name being called. I turn to see customer number 1. He’s back, telling me about his day. While we’re chatting he spots a book he hasn’t seen before. It’s an older mystery he never read, a Louise Penny, second-hand copy. Receipt: $12.60. Customers: still 6. Sales: 4 Day Total: $106.51
3:58pm - I do my rounds: tidy the shelves, fill the gaps, and bring in the welcome sign. Closing time.
4:00pm - The courier arrives: a book delivery. I consider leaving it, but who am I kidding? An entire box of new books. Of course I’m going to open it.
4:05pm - I’m unboxing when a customer knocks on the door. Are you closed, she asks. I tell her yes, but that’s fine, come on in. I’m still here, I say. She takes a look around, but can’t decide on a book. She’s not quite sure what she’s looking for. I suggest a few titles — it’s a gift for her father-in-law. I give her a minute and return to my box. I’m stacking books on the desk. She comes over, peers in the box, and asks if she can take a look. She pulls out a book. This is it, she says. A Gentleman and a Thief by Dean Jobb. She thanks me for letting her in. Receipt: $27.29 Customers: 7 Sales: 5 Day Total: $133.80
4:27pm - I complete the end-of-day reports, receiving the delivery, and turn off the lights. I gather my things and head for the door. I step outside, and instantly remember the mail I left scattered on the stoop, but I am not to worry as someone has kindly picked it all up from the ground and tossed it all in my planter. I find my gas bill tucked in with the petunias. I collect my tote bag that I’ve also clearly forgotten about, still where I left it on the yellow Muskoka chair. I dig in my bag for the French pastry from this morning, buried at the bottom, and of course is now flattened by the heavy advanced reader I’ve been lugging everywhere with me: The Martha Vineyard Beach & Book Club by Martha Hall Kelly. (Highly recommend!)
4:35pm - I’m standing at my car staring at the shop. I can’t help but think the pink exterior is not looking as bright, it’s a bit washed out, weatherworn. Mental note: Shop needs a coat of paint. I add it to the list, and call it a day.
Trying something new here, let me know your thoughts. More of this, less of this, simply not interested. All answers welcomed :) In any case, thanks for reading.