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FIRST CALL
May 2, 2007

One reason that last week's offerings here were scarcer than anticipated was that somebody's schedule hadn't been correctly read. Not long after chirping something to the effect that last week was the last one on the horizon WITHOUT a fall book season appointment for a bunch of months, there was a bit of comeuppance. Some maintenance email - checking this, confirming that - led to an exchange with a rep.

Thinking our appointment was in the following week or the one beyond - somehow I hadn't written it down, though I recalled an exchange, and hearing that he had his own angle on getting through appointments early (a home rebuilding project coming to fruitition). His reply to my inquiry was startling: tomorrow.

That set off in motion a late night and early morning scramble of looking up sales histories, everything from the hardcover sales of paperback releases to the track records of the many genre (science fiction/fantasy, mystery, pink-covered light and fluffy) titles offered in this publisher's numerous catalogues.

It also meant the very sudden clearing off of a table surface which, between sales calls, is the staging ground for about six different areas of concern (mail that needs attention, mail that might need attention, mail that won't but can't get pitched yet for various reasons, printed-out email, stuff to remember to take home, possible author reading books and materials, things to pass on to others and/or reshelve, etc.).

Then this appointment, the season's first, came to mean what all do. You sit with a rep and navigate what she or he has to present and you have to do your thiinking and deciding. This publisher's catalogues had already been pored over for purposes of possible readings and appearances. That's a whole different proposition from what is first and foremost the physical matter of sitting still for a concentrated time and trying to really focus and ... concentrate. To ponder books and authors you know you (or your rep) and colleagues are keen on is easy enough, at least to apply thought and conversation to. It's those others. Once in-season, in the groove as it were, this becomes second nature, the fifteen-twenty factors that click through, that lead, after a few seconds' pause, to say 'three' or 'five,' 'one' or ... 'if it had color, we'd do more, but without ... let's say  'two.'

The funniest moment came when there was a memoir of some endured childhood difficulty. I said, it brought to mind this other, of a son raised mostly by a father who was something of a flim-flam man, confidence artist. The rep got intrigued, saying he loved those kinds of stories. I said, let's see, we should have it. Then I realized it was one of his, way down backlist row. Into his database he went and there it was, albeit in one of those pseudo-print-on-demand places. A click and a clack and he had himself one ordered.

The hours went by. It didn't take much to realize how out of mental, or physical, condition I was. I'd get sleepy ... find reasons to have to get up, was saved some by the rep needing periodic breaks to plug his parking meter. When it was finally done - a few strong titles to anticipate, but not a particularly strong across-the-board list - we bid each other well. And I teetered off to find coffee.

I was also vulnerable. A few minutes later there was a page from the front counter. A woman named 'Terri/Terry' was asking for me. Terri? No relations, but I know some. Even someone like Terry Tempest Williams. She and her husband Brooke have been known to drop by. Perhaps. Down I went, to be greeted by a woman who assumed a fair amount of familiarity, though I couldn't for the life of me place her ... at first. There was what she said she'd sent, and then the other day ... Ah, yes, yes.

The other day. It had been at an offsite venue, I had driven books and some colleagues there. Unloading, this Terri had introduced herself. She and her comrades were from the Communist Party group - Revolution Books, I think they still work by - though there's been some renaming and branding here or there. They had some statement or petition out concerning their main man, Bob Avakian, and his freedom to write and speak out. Something had been in the mail. Could I talk about it there - this was with my car running and my needing to hotfoot it back to the store that night for another event. No, I had said, it wasn't a good time. But just come by the store, I'm usually there.

Now she had, and I was, more or less. Utterly groggy, all of this was coming back to me. It didn't make sense to put this off. Down to our cafe we went. Sitting still and chatting - it wasn't all Bob Avakian, at least I don't think it was. There was talk of families and political views, the work this woman does for a living. Then around to Chairman Bob and his views that the current government needs to be overthrown and how his rights to these views are imperiled. Could I, would I sign this ... and was I interested in more? I'm always interested in more, I said, that's what gets me into trouble. In this case, knowing what's up is good, supporting the view that he should be able to express himself was good ... but I didn't need to view the eleven-disc DVD set she spoke of (I can't get to movies, and even talking about Bob A. here, it was more time than I'd gotten to talk about any one of the books or authors I'd been musing on during the day, by far. I wasn't sure the day had even time in it for reading yet. It had been that kind of day.

More appointments to come ... presumably, I will be more ready.

Posted by Rick Simonson on May 2, 2007 | Comments (0)