Well, it’s just like being on the check-out at Tesco isn’t it?
September 21st, 2009 by Vanessa
One of the weird things I’ve noticed since we opened the first bookshop is that when I say that I’m a publisher people often respond in a completely different way to when I say that I have a bookshop. As a publisher I’m seen as intelligent, professional and literary but when I have my bookseller hat on that’s regarded as merely a matter of (and I quote) “being able to work a till”.
The checkout assistant thing is annoying because, whilst not knocking supermarket staff, booksellers are the most over-qualified shop assistants you’ll ever find. Between the 5 full-timers here, we all have undergraduate degrees, three of us have Masters’ degrees and Malcolm has a PhD in condensed matter physics – he might not be an actual rocket scientist but he’s not far off. And when I look around, this is the case for most booksellers whether in indie bookshops or chains; Blackwell’s staff are famously well-educated. I’m not bragging, but it does make me smile when people tell me that bookselling is only about being able to use a till competently.
I love being a publisher but I’m also a people-watcher and being a bookseller is the best possible occupation for that – when customers are choosing books they show their hopes and fears, their prejudices and passions as they search for that special book. Our customers’ attitudes are also evident when they talk to us – the most demanding, difficult shrew can be transformed into a hair flicking charmer when being attended to by one of the chaps, showing a remarkable lack of sisterhood, and the most formidable Morningside matron will soften once we ask about the grandchild they’re shopping for. That so many booksellers are writers isn’t surprising; we see so many snapshots of people’s lives and in a more intense and personal way than when people are shopping for, say, shoes or bread, that entire worlds can be conjured up out of what we see in our shop on any given Thursday.
And we have skills that go far beyond our mastery of the till and the card processing machine (although as I’m sure Andrew will confirm, I’ve yet to completely get to grips with the one in the new shop), because we can help you find those perfect books; we can rack our brains and remember what that book was that was “in the window a couple of months ago. It was blue – or was it green. But it definitely had a picture of woman on the cover. Although it might have been a tiger”; we can remember that book you vaguely remember reading a review of a few weeks earlier and we usually know what that book mentioned on Radio 4 a couple of months ago was, even if all you can remember is that it was about World War 2.
We can find you the books that will help you plan your wedding, the best book to advise you on your divorce, the book that will give the most useful suggestions on coping with your newly-diagnosed dyslexic child, the books that will help you train your new baby to sleep through the night. We listen, we make coffee, we find you the books that will be your therapy and your inspiration and if we don’t have a book to hand we’ll go to great lengths to order it for you – this morning for one of our customers I tracked down a copy of an out of stock and obscure art book in the publicity department of the publisher and last week Andrew found a copy of The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo in Arabic for another customer.
We can find you those books that will tear your heart in two and books which will bring you exquisite pleasure. We can find you books that will change your life. Not bad for people who just need to know how to work a till.
This post made me happy :) xx
What’s more, you have some very qualified blog readers, too.
Daughter needs more info on this condensed physics stuff…
Your post made me smile to. I’ve had quite a few different jobs in my 18 years of working (cripes is it that long?) but my old Saturday job in a small indie bookshop was definitely my happiest. Although on the other hand my sister has also worked for a bookshop, but that was a major chain and she did nothing but grumble about the customers looking down on her (she’s one of those booksellers with a PhD).
Great post! xx
What a beautiful post. One of the best I have ever read :-) It made me smile, especially the last paragraph. I now want to go and write a book that does all of those things…now that would be a best seller :-)
I haven’t managed to make it up to the new shop yet but will do soon, Can’t wait.
A
Quote for the day: “You mean you don’t just sit around and read all the time?” :-)
Great post! :)
You are so right about the attitude of people when they find out you work in bookshop. Shame that it also rubs off on some authors and publicity assistants too.
Dark Puss is a Particle Physicist and looks forward one day to conversing with all of you while you ring up his purchases on your till.
It’s about 25 years since someone from Pan Macmillan called me ‘a glorified shop girl in drag’.
So if “I work in a bookshop” provokes a response that doesn’t delight, perhaps it’s time to change?
I used to work in a bookshop when I wore short trousers: my father owned the shop. I lugged boxes up stairs. I also used to match cards with envelops @Xmas.
Nowadays I think I’d be a Reading Consultant, a Mind Expander, even a Browsing Companion. I’d re-brand the role…
Welcome to our literary restaurant; it used to be a shop…
Thanks very much for a thought-provoking piece.
Bookselling is fairly unique I think, because it is mentally *and* physically exhausting. Not only do you have to mentally ’stick-shift’ up and down through your stock knowledge for the list of different queries that get thrown at you during the day, but it is physically demanding. Don’t know if it’s any more sedate with you up there, but between leaping up to open the door for buggies, pulling book selections of shelves for customers, amusing kids with Mr Aubergine (don’t ask), moving boxes, wrapping mugs, serving coffee and generally dancing around the shop like a mad dervish (perhaps that’s just me) there isn’t a great deal of time to put your feet up.
When we opened Mostly Books, I lost a whole stone in six weeks. I should write my own diet book of course…
[...] written in my last post about the joys of bookselling, we are currently looking for a part-time member of staff. [...]
I used to volunteer at a large Oxfam shop, on Saturday afternoons, which was the busiest shift. Of course, most of the stock changed every week. I used to tour around as soon as I got the opportunity, so when someone asked ‘have you any duffle coats ?’ I’d probably be able to give an answer straight away.
Once we had a couple looking to buy a wedding anniversary present for friends – this fifteen minutes before closing time. They know how long the friends had been married (5 years, I think it was)but didn’t know what the correct token was. I directed them upstairs to the non-fiction books and told them to look for something like a copy of Enquire Within, which would have a list of anniversaries. They found the book, found it was the wood anniverary and I helped them chose something wooden from the Fair Trade range. They were delighted with the gift and with the service.
[...] Vanessa mentioned in a previous post on the Fidra blog, we are knowledgeable: we are, in effect, a resource. People seem blissfully unaware we are a [...]