Here's the story straight from Jo herself, in case you hadn't heard. Thanks to A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy for the news and the good people at I Can Has Cheezburger for the illustration.
Showing posts with label Harry Potter Mania. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Potter Mania. Show all posts
Sunday, October 21, 2007
For the Harry Potter fans out there
Here's the story straight from Jo herself, in case you hadn't heard. Thanks to A Chair, A Fireplace & A Tea Cozy for the news and the good people at I Can Has Cheezburger for the illustration.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Potter! (and your electronic bookshelf)
So this little book came out at midnight on Friday, something called Harry Potter. Maybe you've heard of it? Since I didn't have to work it this year--and I'm still trying to weasel my way out of any reading promises I may have made in the mistaken belief that book seven would take a lot longer to come out*--I attended Hairspray instead of any HP parties and then went home, but I know many people didn't given the 8.3 million sold statistic being quoted by Scholastic.
How many of you bought a copy this weekend? Did you do so at a midnight party, the next day, or without a reservation at your local grocery store?
Have you finished it yet?
I want to hear your stories (not spoilers) on who gave the best party, who totally forgot your reservation (and how they handled that), and whether or not it was worth it. In return I'll see if I can get my hands on a picture of me dressed as a witch for our HP 6 event.
In unrelated news, I've joined Facebook and have been playing with its new Shelfari application to keep track of the books I've bought, received for free or read here at the Publishing Institute. I'm interested to hear how people think Shelfari measures up to LibraryThing.
*I was basing my assumptions on Jordan's track record, bad me.
How many of you bought a copy this weekend? Did you do so at a midnight party, the next day, or without a reservation at your local grocery store?
Have you finished it yet?
I want to hear your stories (not spoilers) on who gave the best party, who totally forgot your reservation (and how they handled that), and whether or not it was worth it. In return I'll see if I can get my hands on a picture of me dressed as a witch for our HP 6 event.
In unrelated news, I've joined Facebook and have been playing with its new Shelfari application to keep track of the books I've bought, received for free or read here at the Publishing Institute. I'm interested to hear how people think Shelfari measures up to LibraryThing.
*I was basing my assumptions on Jordan's track record, bad me.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Harry Potter, Moonshine, and the First Day of the Rest of My Life
The Boss Lady emailed me this morning about how it was only appropriate that the Harry Potter released date should be announced after we’d finished closing the store. Hell to the Yeah.
(For those of you who have not yet heard the date is July 21st, 2007 and if I’m not doing the Denver publishing school thing y’all are welcome to join me in a local bar to do shots. If you’re not at home reading the book, that is.)
In honor of that alcoholism-inducing occasion it seems only right that I finished my last day of work yesterday by trying some real, honest-to-god, they’ve-been-making-it-since-the-prohibition moonshine.
Flavored moonshine to be exact. In mason jars. Provided by one Jr. Johnson.
Well, Jr.’s grandpappy to be exact. It being a family tradition and all.
Two things I learned about moonshine that I hadn’t previously realized:
1.) real artists create it in oak barrels.
2.) and if done right, it is smoother than the highest grade tequila.
After much sampling it was decided that while the plum moonshine had the best flavor, the crabapple moonshine was not as sweet and therefore had a more interesting taste to the pallet.
Maybe I’ll go down South and learn the moonshining tradition from Jr.’s grandpappy. If only so I can discover where gets all the mismatched mason jars.
The last day of work was rather anticlimactic; just the Boss and I cleaning up the last of the trash, carting the various things we’d left at the store over the years out to our car, and giving the store one last cleaning. I wiped down the bathroom and she swept under the shelves. We collected the bits and pieces of things that people had left behind: D’s shoes, M’s CDs, A’s soup. Piled them all into a basket to take to the “wrap” party we’re having at a local pub on Saturday.
The shelves were empty—stripped of books and stickers—and when it was all said and done we sent seven pallets of books back to the warehouse and stripped 3,300ish paperbacks. Not that many books really. People were very frenzied in their buying in the end, bringing piles of books to the counter, easily dropping over $100 with each purchase and then coming back for more.
Irony is that because of this frenzied final sale, we made the year and then some. Closing all these stores might actually give corporate the little boost at the end of the fiscal year that it needs.
I have lots of stories to tell: the ones that made me roll my eyes at people’s stupidity, the funny incidents, the goodbyes that made me cry. And I’m sure I’ll tell them eventually (whether you want me to or not), but just not today.
Today is the first day of my unemployment. The first day of not being a bookseller in every sense of the word. The (clichéd) first day of the rest of my life.
And it started with a very nice cup of coffee, absolutely no remnants of a moonshine hangover, and you guys.
I think it started pretty well.
(For those of you who have not yet heard the date is July 21st, 2007 and if I’m not doing the Denver publishing school thing y’all are welcome to join me in a local bar to do shots. If you’re not at home reading the book, that is.)
In honor of that alcoholism-inducing occasion it seems only right that I finished my last day of work yesterday by trying some real, honest-to-god, they’ve-been-making-it-since-the-prohibition moonshine.
Flavored moonshine to be exact. In mason jars. Provided by one Jr. Johnson.
Well, Jr.’s grandpappy to be exact. It being a family tradition and all.
Two things I learned about moonshine that I hadn’t previously realized:
1.) real artists create it in oak barrels.
2.) and if done right, it is smoother than the highest grade tequila.
After much sampling it was decided that while the plum moonshine had the best flavor, the crabapple moonshine was not as sweet and therefore had a more interesting taste to the pallet.
Maybe I’ll go down South and learn the moonshining tradition from Jr.’s grandpappy. If only so I can discover where gets all the mismatched mason jars.
The last day of work was rather anticlimactic; just the Boss and I cleaning up the last of the trash, carting the various things we’d left at the store over the years out to our car, and giving the store one last cleaning. I wiped down the bathroom and she swept under the shelves. We collected the bits and pieces of things that people had left behind: D’s shoes, M’s CDs, A’s soup. Piled them all into a basket to take to the “wrap” party we’re having at a local pub on Saturday.
The shelves were empty—stripped of books and stickers—and when it was all said and done we sent seven pallets of books back to the warehouse and stripped 3,300ish paperbacks. Not that many books really. People were very frenzied in their buying in the end, bringing piles of books to the counter, easily dropping over $100 with each purchase and then coming back for more.
Irony is that because of this frenzied final sale, we made the year and then some. Closing all these stores might actually give corporate the little boost at the end of the fiscal year that it needs.
I have lots of stories to tell: the ones that made me roll my eyes at people’s stupidity, the funny incidents, the goodbyes that made me cry. And I’m sure I’ll tell them eventually (whether you want me to or not), but just not today.
Today is the first day of my unemployment. The first day of not being a bookseller in every sense of the word. The (clichéd) first day of the rest of my life.
And it started with a very nice cup of coffee, absolutely no remnants of a moonshine hangover, and you guys.
I think it started pretty well.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
And So It Begins
Working retail is a reinforcement of the lesson that people only hear what they want to hear. Last week, before the title was announced, I had a guy asked me if I had a date/title for the new Harry Potter book. While I’m in the middle of giving him a hard time, his friend walks up and we have the following conversation:
Friend: You’re not asking about Harry Potter book seven again, are you?
Guy: Yeah.
Friend (shakes head): Man…
Me: Yeah, I asked him if he wanted me to laugh now or wait until he left.
Guy: You are laughing now.
Friend: He asks everywhere we go.
Guy looks away.
Friend: But I do have a question. When is the audio book coming out?
Me: The HP book seven audio book?
Friend: Yeah.
Guy cracks up.
Me: Whenever the book does?
Friend: Oh, so it’s not coming out earlier?
Head, meet counter. I should have realized that this was just a sign of what was to come once the title was announced. I’ve done this enough. You would think I would remember. All yesterday, since the title must have been mentioned on the news, I had people coming in, doing their shopping, and I was ringing them up they would ask, “Oh, and could you add the new Harry Potter to that as well?”
“Book Six, The Half-blood Prince, in paperback?”
“No, the new one. I saw it on the news.”
Head, desk. Head, desk. Head, desk.
At least they were really nice about it when I informed them that while the HP had a title, it did not have a street date.
Friend: You’re not asking about Harry Potter book seven again, are you?
Guy: Yeah.
Friend (shakes head): Man…
Me: Yeah, I asked him if he wanted me to laugh now or wait until he left.
Guy: You are laughing now.
Friend: He asks everywhere we go.
Guy looks away.
Friend: But I do have a question. When is the audio book coming out?
Me: The HP book seven audio book?
Friend: Yeah.
Guy cracks up.
Me: Whenever the book does?
Friend: Oh, so it’s not coming out earlier?
Head, meet counter. I should have realized that this was just a sign of what was to come once the title was announced. I’ve done this enough. You would think I would remember. All yesterday, since the title must have been mentioned on the news, I had people coming in, doing their shopping, and I was ringing them up they would ask, “Oh, and could you add the new Harry Potter to that as well?”
“Book Six, The Half-blood Prince, in paperback?”
“No, the new one. I saw it on the news.”
Head, desk. Head, desk. Head, desk.
At least they were really nice about it when I informed them that while the HP had a title, it did not have a street date.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Drive-by Book Recs...for Doug and Kate
Besides being overall wonderful and great, the Bartimaeus trilogy makes you want to continue to play in the world of magic and fantasy. Check out this post at Bookslut to get some other great recommendations. Both Passarola Rising and The Wall and the Wing are on my reading list.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Book Sense 101: Wishful Thinking or “Of course this is not out in paperback yet! Gawd!"
As a bookseller I get asked a lot of questions. A lot of questions.
“When’s the next Patterson book going to be out?”
“Do you have a date for the next Harry Potter?”
“What do you mean you don’t have it in stock?”
“I have to walk a block to get this book?”
Most of the questions are reasonable (we all want our favorite author to produce now, now, NOW), some are plaintive (it’s just one frickin’ block people and we’re a small store, what do you expect?), but I find there’s one question that comes up more often than all the rest:
“Is this out in paperback yet?”
Inevitably when this is asked the customer is holding up a book that just came out. I had people asking me for the paperback version of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on the day of its release!
Just in case you’re wondering the answer to that is a big ol’ fat NO.
Of course it’s not in paperback yet; it just came out! Doesn’t everyone know this?
Apparently not, so in the interest of educating the public and ridding this question from your lexicon, I hereby call to order the first class of Book Sense 101, an ongoing series in which I teach you how not to piss off your local bookseller.
Everyone ready?
Okay. Shut up, sit down, and pull out your notebooks. There will be a quiz after this lecture and if I ever catch you asking a bookseller this question during the first week of a book’s release again it will be demerits all around.
Got your pencils, pens, gel rollers, or laptops ready?
Good.
Here’s the lowdown. It usually takes eight to twelve months for a book to make the transition from hardback to paperback (whether that paperback is a mass market or a trade is up to whoever owns the printing rights). The reason for this is to let public anticipation drive sales for the hardback and for the hardback’s reviews and public interest to drive sales for the paperback.
It used to be that reviewers would only review hardbacks—it was prestige thing—so if you wanted your novel or nonfiction work reviewed by the New York Times, etc, publishing in hardback was your only option. At the time, due to the cost of Smythe bindings (when a book is bound together using thread instead of glue. It’s incredibly durable, and the preferred binding for any book meant to lie flat) as well as additional costs incurred by deckled edges and gilt, hardbound book production produced little to no profit for the publisher. The sales and the reviews of the book were all to drive sales of the paperback, which, with its lower production costs, had a higher profit margin. The success of well-reviewed and bestselling hardback book meant a better chance of the company selling off subsidiary rights (movie, play, international rights) to regain lost revenue.
Nowadays publishing companies don’t sink as much money into book production and the creation of a quality, long lasting hardbacks. The book is bound with glue, not sown, the cover is created from cardboard and not covered with cloth (the cover is not to be confused with the dust jacket—the paper with the title and picture on it that protects the book), gilt and embossing are rarely used, and page paper quality itself is much lower (which is why you may have hardbacks that have yellowed pages).* This doesn’t mean that the cost the consumer pays has gone down at all, simply that the publishers have found a way to turn a profit on a hardback.
And since they are now turning a profit, there is no reason to put out the paperback sooner.
The eight to twelve month rule is a pretty hard and fast rule that falls more in the twelve month range than the eight most of the time. Sometimes a book will take longer to come out (Harry Potter hardbacks have been traditionally released in the summer, but the paperbacks aren’t released until around November: fifteen to sixteen months after the original release), but rarely does the paperback release appear before the eighth month mark. The instances where the paperback version was released early usually can be traced to marketing (both Franken and Moore’s publishing companies released their books to paperback early to coincide with the election in 2004), or to a deal/experiment with the author (Nora Roberts has negotiated a quick turn around—between four to six months—for some of her J.D. Robb books, and Mary Janice Davidson’s last in hardback will be out in paperback next month I believe).
So, armed with this knowledge, next time you are in a bookstore and you see a hardbound title you’ve never seen before by your favorite, Oh-My-God-I-Could-Just-Have-His-Or-Her-Babies author stop and look at the copyright page. If it just gives a year but no date, saunter up to your nearest bookseller and ask when it was released.
When it was released people, not when the paperback is going to be out!!
Your bookseller will either tell you the date off the top of their head while trying not to look pained because “it totally came out yesterday, you idiot, haven’t you been reading the paper?” or they will go check their almighty computer. If the date is before the eight month mark then you can make the reasonable assumption that it is not out in paperback yet. Also booksellers rarely, if ever, leave the hardback on the shelf after the paperback has been released because the demand for the hardback becomes almost non-existant.
At this point it is perfectly acceptable to say, “So I’ve got X (fill in the blank with however many months your excellent subtraction skills have deduced for you) months ‘til this is out in paperback, huh?”
The bookseller will either respond, or if knowledgeable, reveal whether or not the book is one of the exception books.
It is not acceptable to say to the bookseller, “Gee, guess this is not out in paperback then, huh?” followed by a big wink and a cheesy grin because chances are you are going to really weird that poor person out. She or he will be telling tales about you in the backroom for months.
“And then he winked at me! Winked! Like this was a total aside to the audience in a movie, and I barely stopped myself from saying, ‘No shit, asshole!’ Hello!”
Trust me; you don’t want to be backroom fodder. Booksellers are merciless. Being asked the same question over and over again five million times will make even the nicest person turn.
So to recap:
It’s an eight to twelve month turn over to paperback unless otherwise specified.
The otherwise specified is usually caused by a big event (like an election), or by a deal/experiment by the author (the best place to find out about these things is directly from the publisher or the author).
Don’t try to be cute, it’s only annoying and you will be made fun of For-Ev-Er (can you hear that kid from the Sandlot in your head? Because you should). For-Ev-Er, people.
You can only be cute if you are drop-dead gorgeous because yes, we do judge books by their covers, but that’s a lesson for another day.
Class dismissed!
*Those of you who’ve invested in the hardback Harry Potter books as part of your collection will soon be discovering this. Scholastic, in an effort to boost profit for their shareholders and cut costs, produced some of the cheapest hardbacks known to man. Seriously. I would say that their not worth the paper their printed on, but their printed on really cheap paper, so let me instead state that their not worth the paper your money is printed on.
And that’s sad.
“When’s the next Patterson book going to be out?”
“Do you have a date for the next Harry Potter?”
“What do you mean you don’t have it in stock?”
“I have to walk a block to get this book?”
Most of the questions are reasonable (we all want our favorite author to produce now, now, NOW), some are plaintive (it’s just one frickin’ block people and we’re a small store, what do you expect?), but I find there’s one question that comes up more often than all the rest:
“Is this out in paperback yet?”
Inevitably when this is asked the customer is holding up a book that just came out. I had people asking me for the paperback version of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on the day of its release!
Just in case you’re wondering the answer to that is a big ol’ fat NO.
Of course it’s not in paperback yet; it just came out! Doesn’t everyone know this?
Apparently not, so in the interest of educating the public and ridding this question from your lexicon, I hereby call to order the first class of Book Sense 101, an ongoing series in which I teach you how not to piss off your local bookseller.
Everyone ready?
Okay. Shut up, sit down, and pull out your notebooks. There will be a quiz after this lecture and if I ever catch you asking a bookseller this question during the first week of a book’s release again it will be demerits all around.
Got your pencils, pens, gel rollers, or laptops ready?
Good.
Here’s the lowdown. It usually takes eight to twelve months for a book to make the transition from hardback to paperback (whether that paperback is a mass market or a trade is up to whoever owns the printing rights). The reason for this is to let public anticipation drive sales for the hardback and for the hardback’s reviews and public interest to drive sales for the paperback.
It used to be that reviewers would only review hardbacks—it was prestige thing—so if you wanted your novel or nonfiction work reviewed by the New York Times, etc, publishing in hardback was your only option. At the time, due to the cost of Smythe bindings (when a book is bound together using thread instead of glue. It’s incredibly durable, and the preferred binding for any book meant to lie flat) as well as additional costs incurred by deckled edges and gilt, hardbound book production produced little to no profit for the publisher. The sales and the reviews of the book were all to drive sales of the paperback, which, with its lower production costs, had a higher profit margin. The success of well-reviewed and bestselling hardback book meant a better chance of the company selling off subsidiary rights (movie, play, international rights) to regain lost revenue.
Nowadays publishing companies don’t sink as much money into book production and the creation of a quality, long lasting hardbacks. The book is bound with glue, not sown, the cover is created from cardboard and not covered with cloth (the cover is not to be confused with the dust jacket—the paper with the title and picture on it that protects the book), gilt and embossing are rarely used, and page paper quality itself is much lower (which is why you may have hardbacks that have yellowed pages).* This doesn’t mean that the cost the consumer pays has gone down at all, simply that the publishers have found a way to turn a profit on a hardback.
And since they are now turning a profit, there is no reason to put out the paperback sooner.
The eight to twelve month rule is a pretty hard and fast rule that falls more in the twelve month range than the eight most of the time. Sometimes a book will take longer to come out (Harry Potter hardbacks have been traditionally released in the summer, but the paperbacks aren’t released until around November: fifteen to sixteen months after the original release), but rarely does the paperback release appear before the eighth month mark. The instances where the paperback version was released early usually can be traced to marketing (both Franken and Moore’s publishing companies released their books to paperback early to coincide with the election in 2004), or to a deal/experiment with the author (Nora Roberts has negotiated a quick turn around—between four to six months—for some of her J.D. Robb books, and Mary Janice Davidson’s last in hardback will be out in paperback next month I believe).
So, armed with this knowledge, next time you are in a bookstore and you see a hardbound title you’ve never seen before by your favorite, Oh-My-God-I-Could-Just-Have-His-Or-Her-Babies author stop and look at the copyright page. If it just gives a year but no date, saunter up to your nearest bookseller and ask when it was released.
When it was released people, not when the paperback is going to be out!!
Your bookseller will either tell you the date off the top of their head while trying not to look pained because “it totally came out yesterday, you idiot, haven’t you been reading the paper?” or they will go check their almighty computer. If the date is before the eight month mark then you can make the reasonable assumption that it is not out in paperback yet. Also booksellers rarely, if ever, leave the hardback on the shelf after the paperback has been released because the demand for the hardback becomes almost non-existant.
At this point it is perfectly acceptable to say, “So I’ve got X (fill in the blank with however many months your excellent subtraction skills have deduced for you) months ‘til this is out in paperback, huh?”
The bookseller will either respond, or if knowledgeable, reveal whether or not the book is one of the exception books.
It is not acceptable to say to the bookseller, “Gee, guess this is not out in paperback then, huh?” followed by a big wink and a cheesy grin because chances are you are going to really weird that poor person out. She or he will be telling tales about you in the backroom for months.
“And then he winked at me! Winked! Like this was a total aside to the audience in a movie, and I barely stopped myself from saying, ‘No shit, asshole!’ Hello!”
Trust me; you don’t want to be backroom fodder. Booksellers are merciless. Being asked the same question over and over again five million times will make even the nicest person turn.
So to recap:
It’s an eight to twelve month turn over to paperback unless otherwise specified.
The otherwise specified is usually caused by a big event (like an election), or by a deal/experiment by the author (the best place to find out about these things is directly from the publisher or the author).
Don’t try to be cute, it’s only annoying and you will be made fun of For-Ev-Er (can you hear that kid from the Sandlot in your head? Because you should). For-Ev-Er, people.
You can only be cute if you are drop-dead gorgeous because yes, we do judge books by their covers, but that’s a lesson for another day.
Class dismissed!
*Those of you who’ve invested in the hardback Harry Potter books as part of your collection will soon be discovering this. Scholastic, in an effort to boost profit for their shareholders and cut costs, produced some of the cheapest hardbacks known to man. Seriously. I would say that their not worth the paper their printed on, but their printed on really cheap paper, so let me instead state that their not worth the paper your money is printed on.
And that’s sad.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Entering the land of Potter...
My introduction to Harry Potter took place in late 1999 (Thanksgiving weekend, to be exact) at a chain bookstore I was working at, which was located in a large suburban area. A woman with one child on her hip and one in a stroller came up and asked me where she could find the newest Harry Potter books.
“I don’t know, let me check the computer.” I walked around to the other side of the counter.
“You don’t know?”
She stared at me like I had announced I didn’t know who the president was, or that I was going to eat her babies. Good customer service skills dictated that I couldn’t call her on this twisted fish-face look, or make a sarcastic comment, so I gave her my biggest, cheesiest smile instead.
“Not off the top of my head, no. If you’ll just give me to check the computer—”
“I’ll take her,” my coworker interrupted, sharing a commiserating glance with the customer as if he couldn’t believe my stupidity either. “You’ll find them right over…”
He led her off to the Children’s section, skirting around me like I had some sort of contagious disease. What the hell? Who was this Harry Potter? Why was everyone staring at me like I was supposed to know about him? When my co-worker returned I swallowed my pride and asked, “So who is this Harry Potter, anyway?”
Apparently you’re not supposed to ask this question when your coworker is drinking from his water bottle and expect to stay dry.
He managed to spray water on me, the computer and most of the back counter before spluttering, “Where have you been living? A cave?”
“I’ve been in college.” I wiped at my chest, imagining the millions of germs in the human mouth. “Studying biology.”
My coworker nodded as if this all suddenly made since. “Practically a cave then.”
“We prefer to call it a bubble.” I made a face. It looked like I had drooled down the front of my shirt. “Now this Harry Potter thing?”
“He is not a thing! He’s…”
And so began my education in all things Harry, Hogwarts, and muggles. I went back to school after that weekend with my mind stuffed full of a mystical, magical world that I had never heard of, by a coworker who seemed waaaaay too excited by a children’s series. Big deal, I thought, next time I go to work it will be something else.
I was so naïve.
By the time I came back on Spring Break there was a release date for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and one hundred and fifty reservations on the computer. People would race in daily to ask when the book was coming out, what it was about, how many pages it would be, and we tried to answer as many questions as we possibly could. I have to admit that there was a certain glow of satisfaction that came from watching some kid or adult’s face (and I was beginning to notice that quite a few adults were reading this) light up when you took down their reservation, guaranteeing that they would have the new Harry Potter book as soon as it hit the shelves.
Everybody was happy, and why shouldn’t they be? They were getting the fourth book ten months after the third, a quicker follow-up publication couldn’t be asked for in a business where it usually takes a year or two (or more if you are those poor people reading George R. R. Martin) for the next book to come out. Even having to sign a paper swearing that I would not open the boxes until midnight on July 7th didn’t bother me too much. The hype made for good sales.
By July 1st the readers were growing restless, and I received my first attempted bribe. A tall, balding gentleman came up to the counter and asked if we had Harry Potter.
“We could put you on the reservation list, sir,” I told him. “The book comes out on the 8th.”
“I hear you’ve got it in the back.” He stared at me, waiting for a response.
“I can’t disclose that sir, but if you want to make a reservation, I can add your name to the list.” The all purpose customer service smile was once again out and in action.
He leaned over the counter, lowering his voice. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you sell me a copy now.”
“That’s against policy, would cost me my job, and earn my store a fine, sir. Would you like to make a reservation instead?”
Instead of replying, he walked away, but I had two more people try—one in a joking manner, and one serious—to get me to sell a copy before the release.
Sorry, but no. Chocolate, not money, is my weakness, and none of them knew to exploit that, so Harry Potter was not breached until its street date: a day filled with Potter glasses, and Dumbledore hats, and people claiming to have reservations only to realize that they had made them at a different store. All in all, I had worked Christmas seasons more hectic, and these Potter fans didn’t seem too bad.
But then came the great dry spell: three years without a new Harry Potter book. Three Potter-free years that convinced me that Harry Potter fans are the most fanatical readers on the planet. I have been “saved” by Left Behind fans, played therapist to the Robert Jordan readers (“You don’t know that he’ll never finish the series. He’s still alive, at least!”), and commiserated with the people who read Dan Brown (“I don’t know why the DaVinci Code isn’t out in paperback, either.”). I’ve passed along all the recommendations and knowledge that I knew regarding release dates and publishing hold-ups, and most take it pretty well.
And yet, there are many Potter-heads who are operating under the impression that I have some sort of direct line to J.K. Rowling.
“Why is the next book taking so long?” a woman once asked me.
“Well, she is pregnant, you know,” I responded, thinking that this was an appropriate excuse, and a way to disguise my People magazine as research. “She’s building a new life with her husband, and—”
“Pregnant!” the woman screeched. “Doesn’t she know that she has a responsible to her readers?”
“Umm.” How does one respond to that? Fortunately response did not necessary.
“She needs to be writing, not meeting the Queen, not having children, but writing! This is why we read her books. This is why—”
“I, uh, have to go help a customer over there somewhere.”
As I escaped, I assured myself that this had to be an isolated incident.
It wasn’t.
Such expectations, both of myself and of J.K. Rowling, continued beyond the release of Order of the Phoenix and into the current tension leading up to Half-Blood Prince.
So, as we approach the release of book six, I should state for the record that, I, Bookseller Chick, am NOT J.K. Rowling’s: sister, mother, daughter, father, brother, son, husband, editor, agent, publicist, publisher (American), publisher (British), printer, illustrator, priest, preacher, guardian angel, stalker, sperm donor, dog walker, housekeeper, nanny, cook, third cousin twice removed, or anyone else that may exert some modicum of control over her writing life. I did not impregnate her to cause the book’s publication to be pushed back, I’m not hiding an advanced reader copy somewhere in the back, and I’m not the boogie monster. I have absolutely no control over when, how, or in what format her next book will be released.
Just so we are clear, I also have no idea where Jimmy Hoffa is buried, what Stonehenge means, who built the Sphinx, or why we drive on parkways and park on driveways.
All I do is sell you a book or two, take your money, smile, and tell you to have a nice day.
Oh, and I still haven’t read Harry Potter.
Editorial Disclaimer from Jeeves: The author of this rant will be hog-tied and forced to read her way through the entire Harry Potter series as soon as the series is completed and the hype dies down and/or the author leaves the retail book-selling industry, whichever enables her to quit twitching at the slightest reference to all things Potter-related.
“I don’t know, let me check the computer.” I walked around to the other side of the counter.
“You don’t know?”
She stared at me like I had announced I didn’t know who the president was, or that I was going to eat her babies. Good customer service skills dictated that I couldn’t call her on this twisted fish-face look, or make a sarcastic comment, so I gave her my biggest, cheesiest smile instead.
“Not off the top of my head, no. If you’ll just give me to check the computer—”
“I’ll take her,” my coworker interrupted, sharing a commiserating glance with the customer as if he couldn’t believe my stupidity either. “You’ll find them right over…”
He led her off to the Children’s section, skirting around me like I had some sort of contagious disease. What the hell? Who was this Harry Potter? Why was everyone staring at me like I was supposed to know about him? When my co-worker returned I swallowed my pride and asked, “So who is this Harry Potter, anyway?”
Apparently you’re not supposed to ask this question when your coworker is drinking from his water bottle and expect to stay dry.
He managed to spray water on me, the computer and most of the back counter before spluttering, “Where have you been living? A cave?”
“I’ve been in college.” I wiped at my chest, imagining the millions of germs in the human mouth. “Studying biology.”
My coworker nodded as if this all suddenly made since. “Practically a cave then.”
“We prefer to call it a bubble.” I made a face. It looked like I had drooled down the front of my shirt. “Now this Harry Potter thing?”
“He is not a thing! He’s…”
And so began my education in all things Harry, Hogwarts, and muggles. I went back to school after that weekend with my mind stuffed full of a mystical, magical world that I had never heard of, by a coworker who seemed waaaaay too excited by a children’s series. Big deal, I thought, next time I go to work it will be something else.
I was so naïve.
By the time I came back on Spring Break there was a release date for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and one hundred and fifty reservations on the computer. People would race in daily to ask when the book was coming out, what it was about, how many pages it would be, and we tried to answer as many questions as we possibly could. I have to admit that there was a certain glow of satisfaction that came from watching some kid or adult’s face (and I was beginning to notice that quite a few adults were reading this) light up when you took down their reservation, guaranteeing that they would have the new Harry Potter book as soon as it hit the shelves.
Everybody was happy, and why shouldn’t they be? They were getting the fourth book ten months after the third, a quicker follow-up publication couldn’t be asked for in a business where it usually takes a year or two (or more if you are those poor people reading George R. R. Martin) for the next book to come out. Even having to sign a paper swearing that I would not open the boxes until midnight on July 7th didn’t bother me too much. The hype made for good sales.
By July 1st the readers were growing restless, and I received my first attempted bribe. A tall, balding gentleman came up to the counter and asked if we had Harry Potter.
“We could put you on the reservation list, sir,” I told him. “The book comes out on the 8th.”
“I hear you’ve got it in the back.” He stared at me, waiting for a response.
“I can’t disclose that sir, but if you want to make a reservation, I can add your name to the list.” The all purpose customer service smile was once again out and in action.
He leaned over the counter, lowering his voice. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you sell me a copy now.”
“That’s against policy, would cost me my job, and earn my store a fine, sir. Would you like to make a reservation instead?”
Instead of replying, he walked away, but I had two more people try—one in a joking manner, and one serious—to get me to sell a copy before the release.
Sorry, but no. Chocolate, not money, is my weakness, and none of them knew to exploit that, so Harry Potter was not breached until its street date: a day filled with Potter glasses, and Dumbledore hats, and people claiming to have reservations only to realize that they had made them at a different store. All in all, I had worked Christmas seasons more hectic, and these Potter fans didn’t seem too bad.
But then came the great dry spell: three years without a new Harry Potter book. Three Potter-free years that convinced me that Harry Potter fans are the most fanatical readers on the planet. I have been “saved” by Left Behind fans, played therapist to the Robert Jordan readers (“You don’t know that he’ll never finish the series. He’s still alive, at least!”), and commiserated with the people who read Dan Brown (“I don’t know why the DaVinci Code isn’t out in paperback, either.”). I’ve passed along all the recommendations and knowledge that I knew regarding release dates and publishing hold-ups, and most take it pretty well.
And yet, there are many Potter-heads who are operating under the impression that I have some sort of direct line to J.K. Rowling.
“Why is the next book taking so long?” a woman once asked me.
“Well, she is pregnant, you know,” I responded, thinking that this was an appropriate excuse, and a way to disguise my People magazine as research. “She’s building a new life with her husband, and—”
“Pregnant!” the woman screeched. “Doesn’t she know that she has a responsible to her readers?”
“Umm.” How does one respond to that? Fortunately response did not necessary.
“She needs to be writing, not meeting the Queen, not having children, but writing! This is why we read her books. This is why—”
“I, uh, have to go help a customer over there somewhere.”
As I escaped, I assured myself that this had to be an isolated incident.
It wasn’t.
Such expectations, both of myself and of J.K. Rowling, continued beyond the release of Order of the Phoenix and into the current tension leading up to Half-Blood Prince.
So, as we approach the release of book six, I should state for the record that, I, Bookseller Chick, am NOT J.K. Rowling’s: sister, mother, daughter, father, brother, son, husband, editor, agent, publicist, publisher (American), publisher (British), printer, illustrator, priest, preacher, guardian angel, stalker, sperm donor, dog walker, housekeeper, nanny, cook, third cousin twice removed, or anyone else that may exert some modicum of control over her writing life. I did not impregnate her to cause the book’s publication to be pushed back, I’m not hiding an advanced reader copy somewhere in the back, and I’m not the boogie monster. I have absolutely no control over when, how, or in what format her next book will be released.
Just so we are clear, I also have no idea where Jimmy Hoffa is buried, what Stonehenge means, who built the Sphinx, or why we drive on parkways and park on driveways.
All I do is sell you a book or two, take your money, smile, and tell you to have a nice day.
Oh, and I still haven’t read Harry Potter.
Editorial Disclaimer from Jeeves: The author of this rant will be hog-tied and forced to read her way through the entire Harry Potter series as soon as the series is completed and the hype dies down and/or the author leaves the retail book-selling industry, whichever enables her to quit twitching at the slightest reference to all things Potter-related.
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