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!