Oh Expectation!
That enemy of common sense, I had great visions of
massive book sales dancing in my head as I rode my
injured Brown Beast to the end of the road, known as
Homer, Alaska. There was a concert on the lawn
weekend in a town that was known for its artistic
hippie population. How could I go wrong? I pushed my
injured Brown Beast to the limit to get there.
My first clue was that many of the bands playing were
the baby-faced offspring of the artistic hippies.
Therefore, many in the audience were....kids.
But, I get ahead of myself...
I made a new friend at a coffee shop - something about
living in your truck really makes for fast and furious
bonding glue when you meet somebody who's doing the
same thing. Ann had just arrived in the last four
weeks from Montana, and she's one of those who always
needs something to do, so she became my lovely
assistant in setting up the Wal-Mart special that was
my canopy and putting up silk tapestries, sarongs,
blankets, pillows, and scented candles to make our
booth more appealing to the passerby. According to
our master plan, they would be lured by the appealing
atmosphere, and they would come in and sit for a spell
while I spin a yarn about my heart-eating anti-heroine
and they would be so enthralled, they would buy the
book, of course, to find out what happens.
Several people asked how much the sarongs were - even
though there were books displayed, with price tags.
Many commented on how cozy we looked as they passed
by. One guy offered me ten dollars to sit under the
booth while Laura Love was playing, if it started to
rain. He did end up being my last sale of the day.
But that's not the point.
Three teenage girls came up to the booth and
said..."Okay, we're gonna do it...how much for all
three of us?" By that time, I'd heard that people
thought I was a fortune teller reading tarot cards, so
I wasn't caught off guard. When I informed them that
I was a writer selling a book, they sneered and walked
off.
Kids want face paint, exoticism and things that go
sparkle. Enough said.
A red-headed tinkerbell said she had participated in
the love-ins of the sixties, and that's what my booth
reminded her of. An artist/writer named Nancy said
"ewww" when I told her what Ella Bandita was about,
and then proceeded to tell stories from her own life
about how she got jacked, and thus managed to take up
too much space - physically and psychically. People
that were showing some interest in the booth craned
their necks around her, but couldn't seem to fit past
the chip on her shoulder, and moved on. She was
talking about how she didn't like to receive hugs from
"strange women," and after a few minutes of "Thanks
for stopping by, Nancy. Nice meeting you! Have a
great day!" She moved on after wishing me luck with
the book.
Day one, sold ten books, two "Why Roses Have Thorns,"
and one book on CD. A nice Swiss guy bought the
latter after buying the book. He is living in his
van. The fellowship of homeless travelers is lovely.
On Sunday, he brought me two more people to buy the
book and one sold me the "key to art" :)
I was hoping for fifty books a day...okay, so it was
unrealistic, but I can dream, can I?
The second day looked more promising...a guy who had
stopped by and shown interest in the book without
buying it, was at the coffee shop where I brushed my
teeth and recharged with a mocha. At the prompting of
his sister, he bought the book before I even got to
the fair. At the start, we rearranged my booth to
look more open and people were stopping by for a
reading earlier on and it looked up. Around three I
recognized a common thread that a lot of interest was
coming from fifty-five year old men that wanted to
know me better. Not that I'm complaining...at least
not really.
In all I sold twenty two books - one was an exchange
with the Reverend Poor Child CD of love songs. I
didn't have the heart to say no, and then found out
later that he was considered the bad seed in town and
to "stay the f*** away from him."
I"m meeting cool people, having lots of fun. This is
an adventure.
Miss y'all.
Montgomery
That enemy of common sense, I had great visions of
massive book sales dancing in my head as I rode my
injured Brown Beast to the end of the road, known as
Homer, Alaska. There was a concert on the lawn
weekend in a town that was known for its artistic
hippie population. How could I go wrong? I pushed my
injured Brown Beast to the limit to get there.
My first clue was that many of the bands playing were
the baby-faced offspring of the artistic hippies.
Therefore, many in the audience were....kids.
But, I get ahead of myself...
I made a new friend at a coffee shop - something about
living in your truck really makes for fast and furious
bonding glue when you meet somebody who's doing the
same thing. Ann had just arrived in the last four
weeks from Montana, and she's one of those who always
needs something to do, so she became my lovely
assistant in setting up the Wal-Mart special that was
my canopy and putting up silk tapestries, sarongs,
blankets, pillows, and scented candles to make our
booth more appealing to the passerby. According to
our master plan, they would be lured by the appealing
atmosphere, and they would come in and sit for a spell
while I spin a yarn about my heart-eating anti-heroine
and they would be so enthralled, they would buy the
book, of course, to find out what happens.
Several people asked how much the sarongs were - even
though there were books displayed, with price tags.
Many commented on how cozy we looked as they passed
by. One guy offered me ten dollars to sit under the
booth while Laura Love was playing, if it started to
rain. He did end up being my last sale of the day.
But that's not the point.
Three teenage girls came up to the booth and
said..."Okay, we're gonna do it...how much for all
three of us?" By that time, I'd heard that people
thought I was a fortune teller reading tarot cards, so
I wasn't caught off guard. When I informed them that
I was a writer selling a book, they sneered and walked
off.
Kids want face paint, exoticism and things that go
sparkle. Enough said.
A red-headed tinkerbell said she had participated in
the love-ins of the sixties, and that's what my booth
reminded her of. An artist/writer named Nancy said
"ewww" when I told her what Ella Bandita was about,
and then proceeded to tell stories from her own life
about how she got jacked, and thus managed to take up
too much space - physically and psychically. People
that were showing some interest in the booth craned
their necks around her, but couldn't seem to fit past
the chip on her shoulder, and moved on. She was
talking about how she didn't like to receive hugs from
"strange women," and after a few minutes of "Thanks
for stopping by, Nancy. Nice meeting you! Have a
great day!" She moved on after wishing me luck with
the book.
Day one, sold ten books, two "Why Roses Have Thorns,"
and one book on CD. A nice Swiss guy bought the
latter after buying the book. He is living in his
van. The fellowship of homeless travelers is lovely.
On Sunday, he brought me two more people to buy the
book and one sold me the "key to art" :)
I was hoping for fifty books a day...okay, so it was
unrealistic, but I can dream, can I?
The second day looked more promising...a guy who had
stopped by and shown interest in the book without
buying it, was at the coffee shop where I brushed my
teeth and recharged with a mocha. At the prompting of
his sister, he bought the book before I even got to
the fair. At the start, we rearranged my booth to
look more open and people were stopping by for a
reading earlier on and it looked up. Around three I
recognized a common thread that a lot of interest was
coming from fifty-five year old men that wanted to
know me better. Not that I'm complaining...at least
not really.
In all I sold twenty two books - one was an exchange
with the Reverend Poor Child CD of love songs. I
didn't have the heart to say no, and then found out
later that he was considered the bad seed in town and
to "stay the f*** away from him."
I"m meeting cool people, having lots of fun. This is
an adventure.
Miss y'all.
Montgomery
Reading this brings back some good memories... When the highs were high, they were really high!
No comments:
Post a Comment