A case study in book etiquette:
So there I am, walking out of the library, and I run into an old friend. That’s nice, you say. It would be, if not for the fact that I had, under my arm, a copy of this friend’s latest travel memoir. And here’s where many of you might wonder: What is the problem?
People unaware of how publishing works may not realize it, but being caught this way is not a good thing—because the question on the mind of the author of said memoir will certainly be: Why didn’t she buy my book?
Possible answers are that even though I have plans to buy it, I saw the book on the library shelf and couldn’t resist it, or that I have already bought it and this copy is for my sick mother-in-law. On this occasion, I chose the former, and my writer friend pretended to believe me.
Only slightly less embarrassing is being caught by the remainder table—a.k.a. Bargain Bin—of your favorite bookstore, with a book authored by your old friend (perhaps now it would be more appropriate to say “ex-friend”). Yes, it’s true that in this situation you are intending to actually buy the book, but the fact is, this book was once $30 and is currently selling for $1.95 because the publisher dumped it. And this is something that you and your writer-friend don’t want to acknowledge. And how’re the kids? you ask her, chastising yourself because you should have bought the damn book when it was selling for full price, so that your now-ex-friend could collect the royalties on it. (Just so you know, she likely isn’t making a dime off that $1.95.)
I do buy books written by my closest friends, unless those books are ones I know I’ll never read. (I’m not interested in underwater hockey. I’m just not.)
Here’s the thing. If you know a lot of writers, you have a lot of books to buy, but being a writer yourself—especially one like me who earns income mainly from magazine articles and teaching—you don’t have much discretionary income. And what you have, you might prefer to spend on the latest novel by Margaret Atwood, whom you have never met.
Other than book-shopping/library borrowing early on Sunday when none of my friends, ex- or current, are likely to be awake, I don’t really have a tactful solution to this problem. Do you?
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
None of my friends, close or casual, has ever
written a book, but I expect that if they had, I’d be so excited I’d buy a
dozen copies just to give eleven away as gifts. (So I could say, “Oh, that
author is a friend of mine.”)
But I suppose I could keep up that sort of purchasing behavior only for so
long…
What exactly was your friend doing in the
library anyway? Was she just there to pick up a copy of Monday Magazine or
Focus? Could it be that she was there to borrow a book by some struggling
writer? Maybe you are not the only one who got caught but simply the one
whose guilt response got triggered first.
I have been taking an on-line writing course that requires reading three
young adult novels every week. To buy the books would end up costing more
than twice the cost of the course so I have been getting them all from the
library. Every time I go there I have been wondering what the etiquette is
for such things among writers. Should I wear a disguise? Should I hack
some little kid’s library card and use it instead of my own?
Here is a short story idea for you:
Someone in the Department of Homeland Security has access to all library
users’ records so he starts blackmailing the most highly acclaimed writers
he can find who do the most borrowing of books by emerging writers. What do
the victims do? Maybe they confess their dark secret to each other and
decide to collectively come out of the closet by branding themselves as
celebrity library supporters? Or maybe somebody’s agent makes that
suggestion when their publishers scramble for a way to do damage
control.
Brian -
I think you simply need to get over your hang-up about being an adult seen
with an armload of children’s or young adult books.
I also read lots of young adult books, for a writing program, and I happily
stand in line–at the library or used book store–with an armful of titles
such as What My Mother Doesn’t Know (a delightful book, by the way) and
Tricks and Bad Boy (a fine YA memoir), as well as scads of picture books,
though I am most obviously too old to have toddler children (and not yet
ready/willing to be a Grandma)
Give in to your desire for young adult books and be proud of
it!
Hi, Brain.
Thanks for weighing in. I can’t afford to buy three books a week for any
course. (And if you are reading three novels a week — even YA novels which
are relatively short — I admire your work ethic!) In any case, most, or
perhaps even all, of the authors you’re reading do not live in the same city
as you do, so I say you should go ahead and borrow.
And I love your idea for a novel. Seriously. If you write it, I will BUY it.
How does the remainder table work? Knowing
nothing about how the cash flows, I assume the bookstores pay a wholesale
price up front to buy several copies of a book and hope to sell them at a
retail price and then the publisher sends the author a royalty cheque for
some fraction of that wholesale revenue. But how is it that the author does
not get any money when the bookstore tries to move the book for $1.95?
Hasn’t the publisher already been paid by the retailer? Is there some step
I am missing? If a publisher drops a title do they have to send a refund to
the retailer for the unsold copies? If that’s the case, how does the
publisher know how many copies the retailer really failed to sell before the
title got dropped?
I’m not an expert in the business of
publishing, but you could always Google for more info on this — or ask
someone at your favourite bookstore.
What I do know is that publishing is changing at a breath-taking speed and
it may be that the days of remainders are numbered. My advice to you (or to
anyone working on a book) is to write the book and not even think about how
publishing works until then. No one knows how it will look a year or two
from now.
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