Kevin Howell

Waiting for Sedaris

I spent last night waiting for David Sedaris. The Barnes & Noble in Union Square was the first stop on his 29-cities-in-29-days tour for his new collection, When You Are Engulfed in Flames (Little, Brown). Since the event started at 7 p.m., I arrived at 5:45 to find that not only was the fourth floor of the bookstore standing room only, but that Sedaris had started signing books at 5 p.m.

I would later learn that Sedaris got to the last person in line at 2 a.m. Little, Brown publicist Marlena Bittner guesstimated that he signed 1,000 copies of the new book. This is in addition to all the backlist titles in various formats.

I found the end of the signing line, along the wall in the Bible section (which meant there was nothing to read in line). When my friend Brianna from Workman Publishing arrived, we had each other to commiserate with about the fact that we moved four feet in one hour. We didn’t realize that our line was the line of people who would get their books signed after the couple hundred of seated people got their’s signed.

At 7 p.m., Sedaris was introduced and thanks to an excellent sound system and TVs hanging from the ceiling, we were able to watch the animated author up close rather than try to make out the speck on the other side of the floor. He read his hilarious essay “Of Mice and Men,” which he introduced by saying had been turned down by every magazine to which it had been submitted. He followed this reading with funny observational snippets from the diary he’s kept for more than 30 years and a breezy Q&A with the audience.

Sedaris’s enthusiasm toward his fans was positively boyish. Unlike many book signing events I’ve attended, he was not whisking people through his line with a quick smile and a signature. Sedaris makes a habit of signing everything and everything people want him to sign. Splayed out in front of him were various pens (including a silver one to sign the dark cover of the audiobook) and a set of three stamps he’d purchased in Greece that said things like “Invalid” and “Urgent” in Greek. Periodically, he’d stamp someone’s book before personalizing it for the fan. He also ocassionally dug around in a bag and produced toiletries like shampoo and crème rinses that he’d taken from his hotel room and handed out to  particularly engaging fans.

He seemed to be having a ball talking with people, listening to their tales and always had a smile on his face as he watched them depart before returning his attention to the next person in line. His horn-rimmed glasses have been replaced by contacts and his hair appeared lightened by the sun. He exuded energy and good health, perhaps due to the fact that he’s recently given up smoking; something he chronicles in When You Are Engulfed in Flames in the 83-page essay called “The Smoking Section.”

Of course, Sedaris’s attention to his public also means that the line moves with glacier-like speed. A smart entrepreneur would follow the Sedaris tour selling Stadium Buddies to those in line. After a mere 3.5 hours in line, Brianna and I calculated that Sedaris spent roughly two minutes with each person in line and then we started counting the heads ahead of us. We calculated there was still probably two more hours of waiting before we’d reach the stage. At that point, we decided to leave without a signature. The hour-long reading and the book and audiobook we left with were satisfying enough. (Although, that trial-size bottle of shampoo would have looked great sitting on the shelf with the black sharpie pen that Harper Lee used to sign my copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.)

Posted by Kevin Howell on June 5, 2008 | Comments (6)