Chapter 119 Book Fair Hangover

I like almost all aspects of a book fair. I like to prepare for the fair and scout my own shelves for books I’ve forgotten. I like the excitement of the actual fair — selling, buying, socializing. There’s only one part of a fair I do not like — the aftermath. All week long, the boxes filled with books have been sitting in my living room while I catch up on household chores, invoice books sold at the fair and remove them from my computer inventory. My house looks like the back room of a bookstore:

As of today, all of the books are re-shelved:

Now you might think that’s a good thing. Order is probably restored, you’re thinking. After a glamorous weekend at a big book fair like the one in San Francisco you’re probably thinking that I live the life of Riley. I do. However, now that I’ve re-shelved the books, I’ve got to perform one of the dirty little secret jobs that is mentioned in the glamorous world of antiquarian books about as often as one finds an intact Audubon elephant folio: I’ve got to flatten all of these empty boxes and store them for the next fair.

Uggh! I hope to be finished by Monday.

In other, better news, when I unpacked today, I recovered the elegant wooden business card holder made by Gary, the husband of my fair boothmate, Jeanne. It is too lovely not to show you. Thanks again, Gary! I love it.

See you in the stacks! Have a good weekend!

Chapter 118 2008 San Francisco Antiquarian Book Fair, Part 3, Or, The Fair and The Finds

Saturday morning. The fair opened to the public at 10:00 a.m. I had my daily rendezvous with a cup of Earl Grey and got to the Concourse Exhibition Center around 9:30, ready to sell a lot of books. Jeanne and I had our quite a few of our books displayed face out and we each had a glass counter case. Here are some photos:

As you can see, we were prepared and ready. Our booth was as inviting as we could make it. A line of people had gathered outside the exhibition hall, waiting for the 10:00 a.m. opening time. As the hall began to fill with bibliophiles, it was busy and crowded. We had a lot of people come by to look at and to admire our books — always a good feeling. We had a lot more people come by to talk about books — also a good feeling. What I didn’t have was lots of sales — not a very good feeling. The fair was open from 10:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m. At the end of the evening, I had sold a total of five books, none of them particularly signifcant. Not a good feeling at all, but sometimes this is the reality of selling antiquarian books.

The majority of books I brought to this fair were books by and about pioneer women. They are all pretty to look at, all have exciting or historically significant stories, but unless a customer is interested in collecting this subject, not a lot of sales were going to happen. It is a niche market. I needed to wait for the right buyer to come along. The question was, would the right buyer be at this fair, and if they were would they find me, and if they found me, would they buy my books? Selling books at a fair is a house of cards, each action contingent upon the one that came before it. I tried to put on my game face and think of it as “exciting” instead of anxiety-inducing. The rest of the weekend would be a test of my bookselling abilities. Thank God I brought the emergency chocolate!

Unhappy with my sales that day, I thought about some advice I received at the Colorado Antiquarian Book Seminar last summer regarding book fairs: There are three ways to recoup the costs of doing a book fair — sell your way out, buy your way out, or drink your way out. (h/t Between the Covers). Though my pre-fair sales to other booksellers on Friday were good, I was not at all happy with my Saturday sales. Selling my way out was not working well enough. Late Saturday afternoon, I began to look for a good item to buy so that I could buy my way out — that is, I needed to find a really nice item(s) that I could buy and then sell later at a significant price, hopefully a price equal to or greater than the cost of doing the fair. I wandered the same booths where I hadn’t found much in my areas of specialty on Friday. While out browsing other dealer’s booths I saw Steve, a bookseller I had gotten to know at the Sacramento fair last September.

“Oh, I’m glad I saw you. I have something I think would be good for Book Hunter’s Holiday. Want to come take a look at it?” Steve asked.

Intrigued, I followed him back to his booth.

Eureka!

He had a very small archive of ephemeral items from the 1890s. All of them had belonged to a woman, an M.D. from the Bay Area who founded a political party — this in the days before women had the vote. The archive had broadsides advertising the party’s meetings, the foundress’ lecturing services, a letter/receipt, and, best of all, her handwritten journal/diary/commonplace book covering 1895-1897. You can bet I snapped this up immediately. I can’t wait to have time to sit down and read through her journal. This is going to be a wonderful item to describe. I only found this material because the seller remembered me from the other fair and called it to my atttention. I must remind myself of this the next time I feel so shy. If sellers know you and your interests, they will sometimes put items aside especially for you. I was buying my way out of this fair.

After finding such a great buy, I was feeling better. I went to dinner Saturday night with five other booksellers, all of whom are a good deal more experienced than I. Around a table overflowing with another gourmet San Francisco meal and lots of Spanish wine, I was regaled with stories of good fairs and bad, good buys and bad, and good booksellers and bad. It was a night to remember. I was also drinking my way out of this fair.

Wait. That doesn’t quite sound the way I intend it to.

I don’t really mean that. What that “drinking your way out” phrase means to me is that it’s to my benefit to spend time socializing with and getting to know colleagues. Your relationship with your fellow booksellers will sometimes lead to a future sale, as it did in my buy from Steve earlier that day.

Sunday morning. When I arrived at my booth I found a couple of books other sellers wanted to buy, put aside with their business cards inside so I could invoice them later. This was a great way to start the day. When the fair opened to the public at 10:00, it was busy again, but today people bought books. I can not account for why people were not buying on Saturday and then spending freely on Sunday. Book fairs seem strange that way. They are not predictable, at least not to me. At the end of the day, I held my breath and looked at my receipts, not sure what to expect. Sales were much better on Sunday. I did sell my way out of the fair after all.

Sunday night, the closing night of the fair, Jeanne and her daughter Jessica and Mr. Z. and I all had dinner together. We re-hashed our sales and our finds for the weekend. It was a great ending to an exciting, roller-coaster ride of a weekend.

Selling at a big book fair was fun. I did not have the most expensive sale of any seller, the best item offered of any seller, or the prestige of the well-known booksellers. Like Rudy, I was not the quarterback, I did not score a touchdown, nor did I make the game-winning play. But, like Rudy, I felt fulfilled in pursuing my dream and being able to play in the game.

See you in the stacks!

Tomorrow: Book Fair Hangover

Chapter 117 2008 San Francisco Antiquarian Book Fair, Part 2, Or, Reality

Yesterday I wrote about how I entered the exhibition hall at the book fair and wondered about my own potential as a bookseller. As a small bookseller who brought only about 200 books to the fair, I was thrilled to be there, but I realized that a big fair with 200 or more exhibitors offered a challenge. Would my books stand out or be lost in the shuffle? I wondered if I’d sell more books than I did at the smaller book fair in Sacramento last September, the first book fair I ever did. I wondered if it was appropriate to compare the two fairs. Each fair is different. As San Francisco was only my second book fair, I didn’t have a lot of basis for comparison. Instead, I compared myself to Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger, the Notre Dame football player whose persistence in his pursuit of a dream brings him great fulfillment — not fortune, not fame, not a pro-football contract, but something greater — fulfillment. I felt inspired to be in the presence of some truly great booksellers and happy to be at the fair.

I decided that if I ever expect to be a successful bookseller, I had better quit spending my time ruminating over dreams of bookselling grandeur and do the practical thing — get to work unloading eight bookcases and eleven boxes from The Book Mobile. My boothmate Jeanne from The Book Prowler arrived soon after, and she (thankfully) brought an entire army of support — her husband Gary, her daughters Eliza and Jessica, and her sister-in-law Laura.

With all of this help, we were set up in no time — shelves assembled, boxes unloaded, and a couple of special touches. Laura cut a beautiful art paper to the shape of the shelf in our glass counter cases and laid it in for us. It was a lovely background for the fragile ephemeral items that went in the glass case. Gary made the most beautiful wood bookstands for Jeanne — made them!!! They were lovely. He also very generously made a beautiful wood business card holder for me. Thanks, Gary! (P.S. Gary, if you are reading this, you could go into business making these lovelies for booksellers and collectors. They are that beautiful.) Jessica and Eliza unwrapped books from the copious amounts of bubble wrap and helped place them on shelves. It was so nice to have help and to have a full and busy booth. My friend Mr. Z. had a booth near ours, too, so there was lots of bookish banter across the aisles.

Below: A close-up of some of my shelves at the fair.

You might remember a book I referred to before the fair. It was my first really good “find” as a bookseller, and I had assembled a small collection of five items around this book. In order to raise the necessary funds needed to print the Dante catalogue in color and to buy some new stock, I decided the time had come to sell this little collection. I catalogued it thoroughly, following the advice of another bookseller who once told me that when I have something amazing to sell to “describe the hell out of it.” Five typed pages and many hours later I had a small catalogue of each of the items in the collection.

Another bookseller who was aware of my collection and the fact that I planned to offer it for sale asked me to set it aside for him before the fair. In the midst of our set-up frenzy he came over to see if I had remembered to bring the books. He looked at my material and we negotiated a price and the collection was sold before the books ever hit the shelves. I don’t want to tease you. I would really like to tell you what the items were, but as I sold them to another dealer who plans to re-sell them, I feel it unprofessional to do so. When I think about it, I would not like another dealer to sell me a book I plan to re-sell and then to publicly state, “That used to be my book. She got that from me.” (i.e. she only has that great book because I found it first.) Once I buy the book, it’s mine. So, in an effort to do unto others, I’ll have to keep quiet about it for now. I hope you understand. And I thought you would like to know that I did sell the book at a good price and that the proceeds will help me finish that when-will-it-ever-be-published Dante catalogue.

I was a little sad to say good-bye to my first valuable book “find”. It kick-started my pursuit of bookselling as a career. I missed it so when its new owner walked away with the collection — until I got a nice check for it. Hey, this bookselling thing is exceptionally fun when it pays! I’d like to do that again.

I rationalized that selling this small collection would not only generate some income but it would also make room for new finds. From what I have observed, booksellers who don’t continue to acquire new stock stagnate and people quit visiting their booths at fairs because they always offer the same things for sale. I knew that a book fair with material offered by 200 dealers would be a good place to find hidden gems, and I spent the rest of the day in search of them.

I had a few more pre-fair sales to other booksellers on set-up day, and I spent the afternoon shopping in the booths of other booksellers, looking for new books to acquire. I found two books about Westerner’s visits to Russia — one from 1877 and one written and inscribed by the author of Mary Poppins. Collecting books by Westerners who visited Russia or the Soviet Union is a personal interest of mine, but it looks like enough interesting material exists that it may generate a future catalogue. While there were many amazing books offered for sale, I was a bit disappointed not to find more books that I thought would be a good fit for Book Hunter’s Holiday. (There aren’t many of us booksellers selling pioneer women or Dante — consequently not always a lot of stock from other booksellers.)

At the end of the day, I met up with my friend Penny from Vandello Books. She flew down from Seattle to attend the fair, and we met in Union Square and went to a wonderful Italian dinner. San Francisco is a great dining city. There are more food snobs here than there are book snobs, and the restaurants try to rise to the challenge. Delicious!

After dinner, I walked back to the hotel where Jeanne and her family and I were staying, feeling fulfilled.

Tomorrow: 2008 San Francisco Antiquarian Book Fair, Part 3, Or, The Fair and The Finds

Chapter 116 2008 San Francisco Antiquarian Book Fair, Part 1, Or, Potential

When I arrived at the Concourse Exhibition Center early Friday morning for set-up, I walked into an empty exhibition hall. There were a few other booksellers there, but their booths were largely empty, pale receptacles of the vibrant book stalls they would become as the day progressed. I checked in with the fair organizers and found my booth still empty, as my boothmate Jeanne Jarzombek of The Book Prowler had not yet arrived. In those last few moments of calm and quiet before set-up began, I took a minute to appreciate just being able to exhibit at this fair.

While I shivered in the cold air of the almost empty exhibit hall, I was reminded of the 1993 movie Rudy, which starred the diminutive Sean Astin as Notre Dame football great Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger. If you’ve never seen the movie, Rudy is a small-statured young man (5′6″ and 165 pounds) whose lifelong ambition is to leave his blue-collar, factory town and play football for the (awesome, totally awesome) Fighting Irish. Because of his poor academic skill, the idea of his gaining admission to Notre Dame is slightly crazy. Because of his size, the idea of playing football for the Irish is completely ludicrous, something which others frequently remind him.

After three rejection letters, Rudy finally does gain admission to Notre Dame. He earns a spot on the team as the guy the real players practice against, getting hit hard every day for three years. He is never allowed to play in a real game. Then, in the final game of the final season, because his teammates demanded it of the coach, Rudy is permitted to play for two downs. Though he is not a marquee player, Rudy’s tenacity and heart during the three years he’d been used as a team punching bag had won him fans among his teammates. At the end of that game (took place in 1975 in reality), Rudy is carried off the field on the shoulders of his teammates. He is, to date, the last Notre Dame football player to receive that honor. It sounds sappy, and it is, except it’s a true story. I dare you to watch the movie without caring and without crying and without being inspired.

Take a look at the Rudy movie poster above — where he’s standing on the empty field in an empty Notre Dame stadium, taking it all in and dreaming of what might be. When I got to the (almost) empty, cold, cavernous exhibition hall on Friday morning, I felt like I had stepped into that poster. I stood in a cold empty hall that would, the next day be transformed, filled not with thousands of cheering football fans, but with thousands of bibliophiles like me. I was just happy and amazed to be there, and, like Rudy standing alone on the big-time field at Notre Dame before he plays, I thought about the potential a big fair offers a small bookseller like me. Would I sell the most books of any seller there? Would I find the unrecognized treasures that every bookseller looks for when shopping at a book fair? Would other booksellers even know who I am or visit my booth? Would anyone buy any of my books? Probably not. As a new, small bookseller, I would likely be overlooked. I was, as usual, filled with anxiety over these issues, but mostly I just wanted to stop and think about what might be and to be grateful to be a small part of it.

The last time this particular fair was held in San Francisco — two years ago — I found a babysitter and spent couple of free hours walking through the fair on its last day. I was not a bookseller, but I knew I wanted to be one. How, I wondered, do you become an antiquarian bookseller? How do you find enough good books? How do you get admitted to be an exhibitor at a fair like this? I probably would never be allowed to do it. I wasn’t known as a book collector. I barely said two words to the dealers I bought books from at the fair. I didn’t know any other book collectors. (That shyness thing again.) I was told by some (non-booksellers) that a stay-at-home mom could never expect to compete on the same level as the marquee sellers who offer rare treasures at every fair. It was too late for me to try to get started in the bookselling game. Many sellers have been involved with books from a very young age, learning at the knees of fathers and grandfathers, and here I was at a not so young age, with my own children at my knee, trying to get a start. I could never expect to become as expert as they are.

What hubris — and it is hubris — allowed me to utterly disregard all of these valid fears and admonishments, I do not know. I just know that I wanted to be an antiquarian bookseller so much that I didn’t care whether I could be a top-tier bookseller. I want to be a part of the antiquarian book world, regardless of how well-known of a bookseller I ultimately become. If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know that in the months following that fair, I joined email lists, found a bookseller willing to mentor me, went to the Colorado Antiquarian Book Seminar, etc.

Does this make me a marquee bookseller? I certainly think not. Not even close. What it made me was someone who could be a small part of a larger team. I’ve since made friends with dealers of all kinds and and even occasionally sold books to those marquee sellers, those much higher in the bookseller food chain than myself. You know the ones. They are the quarterbacks who call the plays in the antiquarian book world, and everyone knows who they are and speaks their names with reverence, passing on the legends of some of their best book plays. Even though I’m not (yet) one of these sellers, it’s (usually) a real thrill and honor to sell them a book (or two or three or more).

The best thing of all, though, is that in the past two years I’ve met other new booksellers like me. There are actually quite a few of us. My boothmate Jeanne is one of them. If you are intimidated at the prospect of exhibiting at a book fair, find another bookseller and share a booth. It is great fun and great comfort to have someone to be new with. We had a great weekend, and we both realized we were so happy to be a part of the fair.

Will I ever be carried out of a book fair exhibition hall hoisted on the shoulders of my fellow booksellers? I don’t know and I don’t care.

I’m just thrilled to be a player in the game.

Player #45, The real Rudy, playing in his only game for Notre Dame, and so happy to be there.

Booth #717, Me (left) and Jeanne (right), new booksellers, exhibiting at the San Francisco Antiquarian Book Fair together, and so happy to be there.

Tomorrow: 2008 San Francisco Book Fair, Part 2, or Reality

Chapter 115 ZZzzzz…….

It’s midnight on Sunday (Monday morning?), and I just returned home from the fair. (I left on Friday morning). Lots of fun bookseller dinners. Lots of fun at the fair and all kinds of exciting things to report. The thing is, I have to take kids to school early in the morning (around 7:30) and I am exhausted. So, excuse the delay in posting (especially any one waiting to hear about the San Francisco Antiquarian Book Fair). I have a lot to say about the fair, and I promise to post in more detail tomorrow.

For now, the short part of the story is:

1) Yes, it was a “good” fair.
2) Yes, I had a great time with other booksellers and book collectors.
3) Yes, I sold that book.
4) Yes, I bought a few great items.

More tomorrow. For now, off to sleep and catch some zzz’s. Thanks for your patience.

Chapter 114 Ready, Set, Go!

The books are in boxes, my suitcase is almost packed, the dinner dishes are washed and put away. I’m so excited for the book fair. I’m ready to go!

Here’s how my supply checklist looks tonight:

I finished packing my books and bookcases this evening. Special thanks are due Tom, Huck, and Thoughtful Husband for helping with the heavy lifting.

Huck’s reward for helping me put books in boxes — popping some extra bubble wrap. Seven year olds are so easily entertained!

Thoughtful Husband loaded all eleven of my boxes and all eight of my bookcases into the Book Mobile. You rule, T.H.!

I’ve still got to finish typing and printing a small catalogue (five items — very small collection of nice material) and I need to pack the rest of my suitcase. I’ll be staying in The City for the weekend. (The capital T in “The” and the C in “City” are not typos. I am a fourth generation San Franciscan — even though I live in the suburbs — and was always taught by my forebears to call it The City, as though there is no better place on earth. There isn’t. Except maybe an abandoned farm.) Thoughtful Husband will be staying home with Tom and Huck this weekend and chauffering them to a Cub Scout meeting, a basketball tournament, and a friend’s birthday party. I’m hoping they’ll find a chance to come visit me Sunday afternoon.

Set-up begins at 9:00 a.m. Friday. I’m ready. Let’s go.

Wish me luck. Please.

See you at the fair!

Chapter 113 Almost Ready

The test shelves for the book fair are almost ready:

The mylar dustjacket covers are applied.

The books are priced.

The requisite celebratory (or consolatory, depending on sales) chocolate is packed:

The hoping/wondering whether anyone will want to buy one (or more) of my books has set in.

The knowledge that I’ll be meeting new booksellers during set-up on Friday both thrills and terrifies me. (Don’t worry. I promise to behave better than I did last time.)

The knowledge that I’ll also see some booksellers I already know is quite reassuring, and I’m looking forward to being with other booksellers .

Tomorrow I’ll put the books into boxes so I’ll be ready to leave early Friday morning. This takes a lot of boxes, a fair amount of bubble wrap, and strong arms. I have no idea how those of you exhibiting at this fair from the East Coast get everything packed and shipped. It must cost you a fortune. I’m lucky. I get to drive to this fair.

See you in the stacks, or, if you live nearby, at the fair!

Chapter 112 Awesome. Totally Awesome, Or, Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler

Awesome.

Totally awesome.

I don’t usually utter this most Californian of exclamations lightly, if at all. But it seems to be warranted in this case. Today is Fat Tuesday, the day before Lent begins. It’s also known as Shrove or Pancake Tuesday. According to Wikipedia, “The reason that pancakes are associated with the day preceding Lent is that the 40 days of Lent form a period of liturgical fasting, during which only the plainest foodstuffs may be eaten. Therefore, rich ingredients such as eggs, milk, and sugar are disposed of immediately prior to the commencement of the fast. Pancakes and doughnuts were therefore an efficient way of using up these perishable goods, besides providing a minor celebratory feast prior to the fast itself.” (Note: Wikipedia ok to use for silly bloggish topics like pancakes. Not so reliable for bibliographic research.)

Like many Americans, I like to celebrate Mardi Gras, and I like to celebrate any day that gives me license to eat doughnuts and pancakes guilt-free. So, in honor of Fat Tuesday, we will “laissez les bon temps rouler” (let the good times roll) and eat pancakes for dinner tonight. As if that won’t be enough of an exciting departure from our usually healthy chicken or fish with two vegetables, I found this at the store:

That’s right. It’s pancake batter packaged in a whipped cream canister. You point it at the griddle, spray out some batter in any creative shape you want, let it cook, and instant pancakes! (Don’t tsk tsk! It’s organic.) Awesome. Totally awesome.

Tom and Huck are going to love this.

I may have to explain it to Thoughtful Husband.

Book fair preparations continue apace. Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!

Chapter 111 The Fun Thing About Collecting Books About Pioneer Women

One fun thing about collecting books written by or about pioneer women is reading the titles of the books. The titles are so concisely evocative of the life that I imagine was typical of a pioneer woman — an ordinary life filled with extraordinary challenge . Here are a few I came across today while pulling books off the shelves for the fair:

They Call Me “Ma” (Ma. That’s ordinary. But 13 children? That’s extraordinary.)

Butch Cassidy, My Brother (That would certainly be challenging.)

Trailing the Teepees

Snow Covered Wagons

Home Below Hell’s Canyon (I wonder what made her want to live in a place named Hell’s Canyon. I must see this place in person some day.)

Homestead on the Hillside

The Wake of the Prairie Schooner

The Martins of Gunbarrel

Incidents on Land and Water, Or, Four Years on the Pacific Coast, Being a Narrative of the Burning of the Ships Nonantum, Humayoon and Fanchon, Together with Many Startling and Interesting Adventures on Sea and Land. (Ok, this one’s not very concise but it certainly paints an image.)

Six Months in Bleeding Kansas

Over the Purple Hills of California (If you’ve seen the hills of California, you’ll know that’s their exact color.)

Letters of a Texas Oil-Driller’s Wife (I wonder how much laundry she had to do.)

It’s fun to read these titles and imagine the contents of the books inside.

Even though it’s not related to pioneer women in this case, I find it’s even more fun when an author’s name just fits the title of the book, as with the cheap paperback pictured below:

Would you want to have surgery performed by a doctor named Slaughter?

Chapter 110 February 2008 Business Priorities

Back in January, I wrote a list of goals I wanted to accomplish. I accomplished most, but not all of them. I’m sure you can guess that I did not switch my accounting “system” (if I can use so lofty a word for such a mess) from ledger book and pencil to computer. You can probably also guess that I did not list one book on my website every day. I did, however, catalogue one or more books per day, but these were mostly to take to the book fair — five days away and counting — so I am satisfied with that. I spent so much time preparing new stock for the fair that I did no work on my Dante catalogue, and that’s a disappointment, but I want to sell books at the fair, so the fair became a higher priority.

Without further ado, then, here are my goals for February, 2008:

+ Finish preparing for the San Francisco Book and Paper Fair.
+ Exhibit at the San Francisco Book and Paper Fair.
+ Return all books to their rightful shelves after the fair. (Since my books are spread out all over the house, this usually takes some time. I always want to put them back so I can find one I’m looking for later.)
+ Switch accounting from ledger book to computer.
+ After the book fair and the accounting, work on the Dante catalogue until it is finished!!!! Specifically, I want to finish writing descriptions for the remainder of the books in the catalogue this month — about 25 books to go.
+ Catalogue/list one book per day (except for the days of the book fair).
+ Learn more about the Rare Book School courses at UCLA.
+ Contribute an article to BookThink.
+ Contribute an article to Bookshop Blog.
+ Keep blogging here.

That’s a lot of goals for a short month. We’ll see what I can actually get done, and, I will report on it here, including any items not completed.

Below are the binders I use to keep paper receipts for books purchased and books sold. I file them in here in date order. I know I didn’t need to decorate them with scrapbook paper, but — it’s the housewife in me — if I can make the binders look nice, it makes me feel better about dealing with the boring paperwork, lol. Creating these binders was one of my January goals.

See you in the stacks!