Wednesday is Jack’s blog-writing day. Enjoy!
Patience is a virtue, and we haven’t got any in our bookstore. Wendy and I regularly have some permutation of this conversation: “Nobody ever buys [sports/economics/self-help/old decorating books] so let’s get rid of them.”
Then, just before we gather them into a box for crafting purposes, someone comes to the check-out with a beatific smile and an armful of the “impossible sells” and says something along the lines of “It’s so hard to find these nowadays! How delightful that you have some! I’m going to tell everybody about this place.”
I think it’s a combination of wanting a tidy shop, finally coming to the end of our shelf space (Do you hear that, Wendy?!) and paranoia that we’re wasting what little we have left when it could better be used for a popular category: to wit, Vampires.
Oddly enough, the “wait patiently” game reminds me of when we sold our 1706 gatehouse in England before moving to the States permanently. The real estate man told us that because it was a quirky historic property we shouldn’t expect to sell straight off, but rest assured that somewhere out there someone was certainly looking for just such a quirky 1700s historic property. All we needed was patience. And sure enough, eight months later, he was proven right.
Patience, and single malt.
So we try to have patience, reminding ourselves that there is a book for everyone, and everyone for a book. Especially at Christmas, when desperate shoppers pick up things like Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and say, “He likes travel; this’ll do.”
It’s the thought that counts. And of course, when the thoughts bounce off the target, we’ll be seeing those books back again. Ah, yes – back again? Patience, dear!
It’s all part of the circle of bookshop life.