Tag Archives: independent bookstores

Organizing the Westerns

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westernAbout a week ago I realized that our Mancave needed cleaning. We call this the Guys with Big Guns sections, housing Westerns and War novels. It was dusty and hadn’t been culled or realphabzetized in some time.

Dealing with Guys with Big Guns is not something we as Quakers want to spend our time doing.  Although we don’t read these genres, we certainly sell a lot of them, so last Saturday, there was nothing for it but to bite the bullet and move in.

It’s enough to make a bookslinger cynical, I tell ya. First of all, the  expressions on the faces of the cover art guys are the same (grimacing with determination). Also their posture: they lean into the action but slightly away from the gun. Yes, they’re all holding guns, but here’s where it differs. Western guys hold six-shooters (I think) while the War people vary: post-apocalytpic weapon of choice is a Bazooka. Go figger. The spy guy  ranges from little pistol-ma-bobs to those huge rifle-esque guns you see flashed from the backs of Toyotas in countries where things are not going well.

Guns I don’t know much about; the alphabet I can handle. That’s what I was trying to do, organizing them by author. Some, like Terry or William Johnston(e) or good ol’ Louis L’Amour, move fast. Others go at about the speed of cattle crossing the Great Plains. So it’s important to keep them sorted, but at a certain point, whether First-time Author Hoping to Break Into the Genre or whoever is covering L’Amour these days wrote Shootout at Wherever gets old. Did you know that about half of all Western titles start with Shootout, Gunfight, or Crossing? Go ahead, check it out.

It seems to me that Westerns are Romance for Men. In fact, I once put a bunch of Native American romances back there in the mancave, mixed in with the other Shooters, and sure enough, they got scooped up. A word to whoever is designing the covers: a girl with big heaving bosoms and a guy with gritty determination in his eyes will do; you really don’t have to worry about anything else. Near as I can tell, in the Westerns she heaves in the background as the guy covers her with his big gun, while in the Romances she heaves in the foreground as the guy, again…. Anyway, you get the (cover) picture.

It took several hours, but our Westerns and War sections are now relatively dust-free. Jack did suggest I leave a bit, for atmosphere. “Guys want a little True Grit,” said my husband.

 

In Which Maeve is Elected Spokeskitten

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HI ever’body! My name’s Maeve an’ I’m the smartest one in my family. That’s why they ‘lected me spokeskitten. That an’ I sat on Mack until he gave in. I’m bigger’n he is.

Me an’ my two brothers an’ two sisters are all waitin’ to get doppled. That’s when a family decides they wanna keep house for you forever so you go live with them an’ they look after you. There’s lots to eat an’ the rooms are always the right temperatures. It’s very nice, I hear.

Mack, Malcolm, Merina, Mia an’ me, we all got borned a little while ago but our mom was a street cat. We were lucky when a nice lady took us in an’ let us all get borned in her house, since it was really cold outside. Then she got in touch with some people called Apple-latching Pee-line Friends….. uh wait, could you ‘scuse me a sec, please?

whispered consultation in kitten huddle

‘Kay, we think that’s Apple-latching Feline Friends, like the fancy name for cats. Yeah. An’ the Apple people, they found us this nice bookstore to stay in, an’ took us to the doctor – which didn’t hurt much, but Mia bawled like a baby–DID TOO. An’ the doctor said we were very healthy an’ the cleanest street kittens she’d seen in a long time. Mom was really proud of that.

We left Mom at the hospital ’cause she needs to rest. She had to give us a lot of milk when we were babies, so she’s still there, but she says that’s fine, she knows the people here are takin’ good care of us. She says she’s just gonna lie around an’ eat an’ read some magazines for awhile. I don’t think she’s plannin’ on comin’ to the bookstore.

But that’s okay, there’s PLENTY to do here. We gots this great big cat tree, an’ a cushion we bounce on, an’ a table with little sticky-out legs we can climb. Ever’ day people come in an’ there’s new feet to ride! It’s great here!

We know we’re gonna leave here sometime soon an’ get our perma- per- furrever homes. So we’re double lucky. But the people who look after us say that’s ’cause we’re double cute. We’ve all got white toes an’ stripey noses an’ big eyes.

Our foster mom says people are specially glad to see us now ’cause they’re sick of politics. I dunno for sure, but I think politics is what they put in the bowl for us, all chopped up an’ wet and meaty. But it smells so great, I dunno why people don’t like politics.

If you wanna meet us, me an’ Mia are twins with the gopher stripe, and the boys have tabby coats an’ look just alike, an’ then Merina wears a tux. It’s easy to tell us apart once you know how. Or you can dopple two of us an’ it won’t matter.

C’mon down an’ visit. We look forward to meetin’ you an’ we always like a new pair of feet to ride on!