Last night John Hodgman appeared on The Daily Show to discuss with Jon Stewart the End of Borders...and how brick and mortar bookstores might compete in the digital age with Amazon. Although I take exception to being called a snarky nerd (I left the snark at home when I worked at B&N), this is brilliantly funny.
On Thursday my daughter and I went out to lunch, then stopped off at a local B&N before moving on. After being accosted by the Nook salesman, I realized how off-putting my own Nook selling must have been for many of the customers I hawked at. I did enjoy playing with the new B&W touchscreen Nook, but didn't like the salesman's getting a basic Kindle fact wrong in trying to contrast the two. All in all, not a great experience, and one that alerted me to the reality that I no longer enjoy visiting B&N. Since the Borders across the street—there first for years before B&N moved in on their territory with a boutique-like store that remains one of my least favorites—closed a couple of months ago, it's the only game in town, save the big Half Price Books nearby, and as much as I enjoy a bargain, the experiences are not the same.
As I told my daughter over lunch when she launched into Luddite mode about the death of retail (yes, she's only 19), the world changes, and we must change with it. I told her about Lee leaving his job as lead in the Music section because he didn't want to preside over its eventual dismantling. I told her that although I left to earn that abortive MLIS degree, I knew that every Nook I sold would eventually eliminate my job. I understood that the necessary cannibalization of B&N's brick and mortar stores through lower prices at B&N.com would eventually do the same. It just depressed the hell out of me to be in the thick of it.
Is that a bad thing? Well, last Thursday my daughter wanted two older books. They were available at Amazon and I planned to order them until she asked if we could get them at B&N so she could start one immediately. I did that whole text me if you have them thing...and never heard back. Meanwhile, I went ahead and ordered the books from Amazon, and they arrived Friday afternoon, a full day before we expected them. Now, you may not be able to browse at Amazon, or sit in a comfy chair...oh, wait...you can't do the latter at many local B&N's anymore either. The store I worked at never had the great chairs, and at some point the management removed all customer chairs save those in front of the window at tables near the magazines. Another local store removed most of their comfy chairs; the last three times I visited and wanted to sit and read awhile, there was no place to do so, leaving me feeling bait & switched: "You once invited me to spend the afternoon by providing a comfortable place to sit and read, and now, unless I go spend more money at your cafe, you'd really prefer that I leave."
I'm hoping this disaffection with visiting B&N ends, because as a life-long reader, spending time wandering around bookstores has been a favorite activity. Even throughout my two-years as a B&N bookseller I enjoyed visiting various stores throughout the country as a customer, although I forever straightened up display tables and put books away that others had left behind. But because actually buying at a B&N tends to be a costly experience, and because Amazon's prices tend to be lower (sometimes by a little...sometimes by a lot) than B&N.com's prices, I don't expect it to go away any time soon.
Sigh.
BTW, I did take exception to one scene in the movie. When Kathleen Kelly wanders into Fox's books and sits in the Kids section, a customer asks a salesman about a particular book, and he can't help her because he's simply an anonymous clerk who might well have been working at Home Depot. At least at our B&N, we had answers most of the time because those of us who worked there actually, you know, read. At least at our B&N, that woman would have been offered help and/or a recommendation by the time she landed in the Kids section.
While the summer started out gangbusters at the bookstore, those of us who work part shifts got fewer and fewer hours as the heat poured on. By the time I left on my vacation as July turned into August, I was working perhaps one evening a week, and for the two weeks after my return (before taking Rachael to college), I had no hours at all. Which means that when I came in to work, it was strictly cashiering, with the occasional stint in Kids. And never any Nook time.
Most of you who have visited a B&N over the past several months know that each store features, prominently, a Nook area, and additional staff were hired to man these sections. In our store, a full-time position was added, at 40 hours a week, and when Jeff wasn't there, other staff took up the slack with official Nook hours. I was not among them, and other than watching a Nook video or two when they were first introduced, and playing with one occasionally during breaks, I remained a Nook virgin. Last week, though, I asked for some training so I wouldn't stand around like a boob when somebody asked me about the device.
In the last few weeks several employees moved on, so hours are on the increase - at least temporarily, although I hope permanently (I'd prefer TPTB utilize part-time staff more rather than hiring on tons of new full-timers, but nobody's asked me). On Friday night, before I left the store close at midnight, I asked to check one out, and yesterday morning I learned the basics of Nook. Good thing too, because when I went into work in the afternoon, I was assigned an hour of Nook duty. Had I not set about learning it earlier in the day, I'd have been screwed.
I showed several customers the ins and outs during my hour, and sold a husband and wife one shortly after my shift ended last evening. It was a tremendous rush, and my knowledge of the Kindle helped tremendously in doing comparisons, but the last several shifts have all been a rush in that the store has been slammed by customers. Hooray!!! I'd been doing terrifically well selling memberships - and while in some ways I hate that we've added educational toys to our inventory (I came to sell books, not toys, after all, or electronics for that matter), it's hard to argue with $50 toys and $200 Nooks - but yesterday was a great hand-selling day. I sold seven books while at cash-wrap as add-ons, and talked up Clockwork Angel to other customers. Here is what I sold:
So far thirteen copies of Changeless have walked out the door as well - 35 remain left to sell. I've not yet had time to read the book, and part of the reason why I've not made time is that I know
S
P
O
I
L
E
R
the hero and heroine don't get back together until the end of the book. I assume Carrington did that to stretch out the action into additional installments of the series, and while I love the entirety of the world the author created, I can't help but long for more h/h face time. Even though the parts I've read are hilarious, I need to settle down and deal with my disappointment before actually reading Changeless.
I work a very abbreviated shift tonight and then during Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons this week. I'll be bringing my loaner Nook back when I head in this evening and now that I've got a real sale under my belt - and boy, did I work for it! - I'm confident about future Nook duty.
Interestingly, although I'm messy by nature, I've always been a book Nazi, which makes for a strange dichotomy at work. I still find it difficult to get the bed made each morning and hang up my clothes. I make sure the former gets done, whether the latter occurs is no better than a fifty-fifty proposition at best.
But since working at Barnes and Noble, whenever I'm in a bookstore, even one in which I do not work, I constantly straighten up, put things where they belong, and otherwise behave like a cleaning-crazed person. And no longer do I visit a clothing store without re-hanging each item before leaving the dressing room - and I won't let my daughter leave without doing the same.
That doesn't mean, though, that messes no longer overwhelm me. Indeed, when I walked into Kids last night at 9:10 (and then again at 9:20 after being called to Cashier back-up almost immediately), I went into a panic. There had been no coverage in the department for hours, and with school out, a sweltering hot day, and the bookstore the perfect, air-conditioned place for parents to let their wild spawn run amuck, the place looked as bad as you might imagine.
Because I am not neat by nature, messes do overwhelm me and I become less efficient than usual as the fear I won't be able to clean it all up in time invades my head. Last night I tried a different tact and thought to myself, "Screw this...I'll do what I can, but I'm not going to let this job get the better of me. The store isn't paying me enough or offering me enough hours to justify my making myself crazy being Super Employee."
What a pep talk!
But you know what? It worked. By refusing to take on responsibility for making things perfect, I actually got through recovery quicker than usual. I tackled it methodically...when I found four "lunch-box" style kits emptied all over the floor, I put 'em back together and stuck 'em back on the shelf. When I found an expensive pop-up book destroyed, a touch 'n' feel book with a cardboard page ripped out, and a tween girl's nail kit that I'd already put back together the week before destroyed once again - but this time beyond repair - I simply damaged them out and continued.
By ten o'clock, when the store closed, I wasn't finished, but I didn't go into apology mode for needing help. Nobody could have put everything back in the time I'd been given. Not with two tables filled with books and kits - and magazines and computer books from thoughtless adults who are as selfish as their children - stuffed animals all over the floor, and a desk already stacked high with books that other staff during the afternoon and evening had placed there for recovery.
So Allie came in, I told her I still had a desk full of items to put away, and she started dusting and organizing. By the time James came in, I had just one toy left to put away before handing him two final books for recovery elsewhere in the store and taking the "due-outs" to the back for processing. Then I returned to Kids for a final walk-through, making sure that the basics were done (all items put away and no obvious violations of shelving rules). As I told my manager a few minutes later, "It's done, but it's not pretty."
It's that change in attitude that helped me last night not to get hysterical about finishing on time and by myself. A few weeks earlier I'd been unable to finish a "Sunday night in Kids," and when the cavalry rode in, I spent the next half hour apologizing for needing help. My guess is that both messes were comparable, yet I actually accomplished more - and more quickly - by myself when I took the "I don't give a shit" attitude than when I donned my Super Employee costume.
Of course, it didn't hurt that earlier I'd sold three memberships in an hour and a half cashiering, but still...
For the last two nights we've been slammed at the bookstore, which is a good thing. And last night was particularly fun in that, right off the bat I sold the Phoenix Chronicles quartet, and not much later, convinced a woman already buying Leila Meacham's Roses into adding Mary Alice Monroe's Sweetgrass to her purchase.
Later on, though, I was presented with a dilemma: A returning customer asked me to look at what she planned to buy and give her my advice. I went through her stack after she added Sebastian Junger's War at my suggestion, and in it I noticed Yann Martel's Beatrice and Virgil, which to my knowledge has not been well-received by critics.
I never say a word or so much as change facial expressions when customers buy right wing screed after right wing screed. I don't know if it's just our location in conservative Plano, Texas, but it never ceases to surprise me when I walk through our Current Affairs section to see all the far right books from authors including that 15-year-old "wunderkind" Jonathan Krohn, Michelle Malkin, and multiples by Glenn Beck and Bill O'Reilly. I'm going out on a limb here, but unless liberals start hammering out books by the dozen, they will never be able to counteract what's floating around out there.
But I digress...
The point I'd begun to make before rudely interrupting myself is that while I'm easily able to suggest additional books for customers to buy, I try to refrain from comment when it comes to books they're already planning to buy. I will admit that some months ago I convinced a guy not to buy that Diana Palmer bargain hardcover - he had no idea what it was, and I could tell that he didn't - but we're a bookstore, we're here to sell books in order to make money, and telling people not to buy books doesn't accomplish that.
There's a gray area, though, when it comes to providing what I think is good advice and strong customer service. If a customer comes up to me as cashier with a $30 hardcover when I know we also sell a $15 trade paperback, I'll ask them if they know they have a choice. Sometimes they do...they just prefer hardcovers...but when they don't and they're amenable, I arrange for them to buy the cheaper version. I don't know what a manager would say if witnessing me do this, but I figure that the customer will remember we saved them money and treated them well and will return because of it. Sometimes it even allows me to sell more, as with the woman not long ago who planned to buy three of the four Twilight books. She didn't realize that two of them were available as mass market releases as opposed to the trade paperbacks in her hands. I convinced her to switch those two out and add the fourth, hardcover-only book, and she walked out a happy customer. She'd spent oh-so-slightly more than originally planned, but left with the entire series in her hands rather than settling for part of it.
So the question for me was: Do I tell my returning customer that I've read only ho-hum or downright negative reviews of Beatrice and Virgil or do I tell her I haven't read it and can't advise her one way or the other? Because she'd asked for my opinion due to a level of trust we'd built in previous transactions, I decided to tell her what I'd heard. She did not buy Martel's book as a result. On the one hand, the store made more money on Junger's book than it would have on Martel's and I don't think she would have bought both, but on the other, I talked a customer out of a book she'd considered buying. In the end I'm not sure I made the right choice, but I think I did.
I asked my husband about it this morning, and this was his response: "Suppose you went to the butcher and bought an expensive cut of meat and told him you planned to boil it. What if he didn't say anything and you actually boiled it? Wouldn't you be angry that the butcher didn't stop you?" While I'm not quite sure that's the same thing, he and I are obviously on the same page...but then, he doesn't work retail.
May, at least this year, turns out to be a season of transition at Barnes and Noble. Over the past month or so several employees took new jobs, so hours for the rest of us, low for much of the year, increased as interviews for new employees took place. The result for me has been slightly more hours than I want for the past few weeks, but I've worked them knowing that the "gravy train" (of three-digit paychecks, LOL) would end. It came slamming to a halt this week. If only I'd known last night what would happen this morning...
This week and next week were set to be my biggest weeks in more than a year, but the managers know I can really only handle 16 or so hours a week given the state of my feet, so when they learned they'd over-scheduled this week, they cancelled my shift for Wednesday night. Which was okay because I'd still have had a 15-hour paycheck. But when I went into work last night and saw I was scheduled for five nights in a row rather than the three my feet can handle (I do four in a pinch, and have recently, but it's really too much) - giving me 22 hours in total - I realized that the manager who'd created next week's schedule hadn't done so with this week's in front of her. So I mentioned it and they reworked things so I'd be off Monday night, which just so happens to be my birthday. Not a big deal to me, btw, but it's a big deal to my daughter, which does make it a big deal to me. That meant I'd be working Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, Tuesday night, then Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of next week. Still a good chunk of hours, and almost more than my feet can handle, but do-able.
The store is in a period of flux in more ways than one; we're in the process of moving entire sections from one location to another, and my guess is that the extra staffing they've needed in order to physically move books simply ate into too much revenue, causing these last-minute cuts. Last night we learned that all the new employees are being rotated in, meaning that those of us with limited availability - like me - won't be scheduled to work as often. As I mentioned earlier, I knew this was coming, so when the phone rang this morning cancelling me for tonight, I wasn't all that surprised even though now I kinda wish I hadn't gotten myself unscheduled for Monday. Because no longer am I working five nights in a row. Now it's one on, one off, one on, one off, one on, one off, then three on. Hopefully I won't have more hours cut next week before we re-enter this more fallow period.
As for work itself, last night was fun. The first thing Pat, our magazine guru, said to me when I walked in the door was that she and I were "neck and neck" on membership sales. I hadn't a clue what she was talking about until I walked into the break room and saw a list on the bulletin board with my name and stats at the top...revealing me to be tops right now in signing up new members. Let me say this about that: I believe these lists are of dubious value as a management tool. Those of us doing well at the moment - and, btw, it's a crap shoot with luck playing a huge part in sales success - feel pressure to maintain or increase our membership sales (which, because of the luck factor basically involves pulling something out of your ass) and I think it also breeds resentment among those who, at the moment, aren't. Not only do sales depend on which customer (and how much they're buying) stands in front of you at check-out, there are periods when things are golden and others when they aren't. Right now I'm in a golden period as last night I sold another five memberships. That's a lot for one night, but there have been entire weeks when I haven't sold anywhere near five memberships.
But when I'm on, I get jazzed, so I was jazzed last night. Within the first fifteen minutes I'd sold a membership and one of the books I'd displayed in front of my register area - Lisa Kleypas' new release, Married by Morning - to a customer buying Julie Garwood's most recent romantic suspense. I'd asked the customer if she'd also read Garwood's historicals, and when she told me she'd started reading all kinds of romance in college (she looked to be in her mid-late 20's), I suggested Kleypas' book. I know it's fourth in a series, but it's easier to come into an historical series (as opposed to, say, an urban fantasy series) later than earlier, and with Kleypas, I've found it's even less of an issue. The customer left not only with the new Kleypas, but with a slip of paper upon which I'd written some of my other Kleypas faves.
One of my "regulars" (a lesser one, though, as I didn't recognize her) also checked out with me last night. She said she'd thoroughly enjoyed the two Jill Myles books I'd sold her not long ago. She wasn't ready to add any new books, but she was one of the customers to whom I sold a new membership. Interestingly enough, she checked out shortly after I'd checked out a woman who bought the first of the two Jill Myles books - Gentlemen Prefer Succubi - I'd displayed at my station earlier in the evening (as "light" counterbalance to some of the darker urban fantasy books I'd also displayed).
I like to think that I did a lot of pre-selling last night. I believe I piqued the interest of a mother and daughter who went nuts over the new Rick Riordan book with Gena Showalter's Lords of the Underworld series for mom, and for daughter, Cassandra Clare's Mortal Instruments series. And if I'm right, the woman who bought Dorothea Benton Frank's Bull Island might well return for one of the Mary Alice Monroe titles I wrote out for her. Had I brought one up to my register last night, who knows?
One thing B&N got really right was in their "buy two items, get this fabulous beach tote for $9.95" promotion. A couple were about to check out with two items and a tote, but when I realized the husband liked war history, I pointed out Sebastian Junger's War on my display, and next thing I knew, the wife went searching for another item, giving them four items so that they could buy two totes. Which, of course, set off another customer in search of more things to buy so she too could nab two totes. I couldn't blame either of them...these particular totes are fabulous!
My final hand-sell of the evening was the easiest; a young man (he was 16...I asked...and, yes, there are books I will or will not recommend based on age) saw Richard Kadrey's Sandman Slim on my display, and before I finished talking it up, he'd already added it to the other book he'd decided to buy.
When you add it all up, the memberships and extra books don't amount to a Nook, and Pat sold one early in my shift, but even that competitive part of me realizes I didn't join B&N as a bookseller in order to sell technology...or memberships, frankly. But Nook giveth and Nook taketh away. One customer was extremely interested in Lori Handeland's Phoenix Chronicles last night, but only for her Nook, and book one isn't available for Nook. The remaining three books are, though, so she wrote them down and I suggested she look for Any Given Doomsday in another format...perhaps pdf or epub so she can read all of them on her device. I hope she finds it, but it's too bad we won't get "credit" for the sale of "the best urban fantasy series nobody knows about."
And so ends this installment of Blogging Barnes and Noble. I hope the five of you out there who read this blog enjoy these periodic entries about my experience as a B&N bookseller...they're a kick to write.
Working as cashier during the night shift at Barnes and Noble includes "recovering" the cashier area, bargain books, gifts, and the journal wall. One of my favorite things at B&N are its journals; I've bought many as gifts over the years, and sitting next to my bed, between two sapphire blue alabaster "egg" bookends I bought at another B&N are four journals, all variations in coloration of a paisley journal trimmed in brown leather. But I digress...
We close at ten in the evening Monday through Thursday, and last night, because customers were sparse, I was also stocking journal and gift items, realizing anew how crowded and uninviting our journal wall looked. My view is that more can often be less - and look cheap - and showcasing is a better way of setting something off than crowding. Some of our journals are absolutely gorgeous, but it can be daunting to browse that section in our store; there are so many items on each shelf that it's not only hard to see what you want, but to get to it you might knock something else off the shelf or need to move several other somethings...but where to put them?
In other words, I don't think shopping our journals puts customers in a relaxed - hence - shopping frame of mind. Instead it can be such a chore to seek out and find just the right journal that I think we aren't serving our customers as well as we should. And I wanted to fix it.
So I mentioned to Linda, the manager closing the store last night, that I thought the area needed some work. Had I glanced at my watch, I'd have realized it was already 9:50 and not the best time to start a project, but she gamely started working one bay and I started working the others. In-between I checked out a few customers, and sometime later she asked me if we were clear...in other words, was the store empty of customers. At that point I looked at my watch again and realized it was 10:10. I'd gotten so caught up in what I was doing that I didn't notice the store was past closing and here I was, with journals all over the floor and counter when I should have been doing my assigned recovery. I made a personal executive decision to finish what I'd begun, and worked like a whirling dervish over the next half hour on the three other bays, and when I was done, several stacks of excess product were ready to be put into overstock. Instead of having a dozen small black leather "envelope style" journals shelved, now there were a more manageable handful. And if I could have pulled entirely the 40th anniversary Woodstock journals ordered for the previous year, I would have. Apparently gift items can't be returned, so they remain, cluttering up the shelves.
The rules require that we not [re]shelve single journals, and further, that other than the full bay devoted to the most expensive hand-tooled leather journals, journals are to be shelved by color. Much of which makes sense except that some of our journals tend to be pretty specific, like the "List" journals, which before last night were spread out so that the blue "List" journal was with the other blue journals, the green "List" journal was with the other green journals, and so on. When I envision myself as a customer looking for a "List" journal, I know I'd rather see all five on the same shelf rather than spread out among three bays on eighteen shelves. And so I made another executive decision and shelved them like that. It's quite possible that when I work again tomorrow night that the "List" journal shelf will have disappeared, but by the time Linda, Jeff, and I gathered up all the excess last night and put them in overstock, I was satisfied that the entire area looked better. It's still too crowded, but as far as wild hairs go, this one was pretty successful. I'd like to think Linda agreed.
Last night at work a young woman wearing a bright pink t-shirt with the word "BYOTCH" emblazoned on the back tried to return an expensive hardcover book - a cookbook, design book, or gardening book - without a receipt. I asked why she wanted to return it and she immediately got defensive. I explained that because she didn't have a receipt I would need to have something to go to my manager with, but she interrupted me to ask why she just couldn't get a store credit, and when I finished what I'd begun to say, she turned on her heels and stomped out of the store.
My first impulse was to blame myself for doing something wrong, but then I thought about it for a moment, realized I had done nothing rude, and that in fact, her actions had been suspicious. Without a receipt there's no way to know where she bought the book...where somebody bought the book for her...or if the book had been bought at all. After several years spent listening to irate taxpapers when I worked for the City of Dallas as manager in two tax collection areas, I learned that for many people, the best defense is a strong offense. In other words, when attempting to pull a fast one, some people become intimidating human bulldozers and try to put the other side on the defensive in order to get their - wrong - way. In the end I decided that's what the byotch had tried to do with me.
The byotch wasn't the only horrendous customer of the week. There was also a woman I'm convinced is some sort of scam artist. She came to me with a bagful of books and a receipt. She looked familiar and I realized I'd been her cashier the first time out - and that she'd had some sort of story then as well. She was outside of the 14-day return policy, and when I asked why she was returning five books, she said, "I found them cheaper on e-Bay." Way to go, lady. At least come up with a story guaranteed not to insult me and my employer.
I called a manager up front to deal with her, and eventually she got what she wanted...mostly...even though it would have been well within the manager's rights to just say no. In a retail environment "the customer is always right" must always be considered, even when we know they're not. Although outside of the return period, the manager allowed her a partial return. Later in the evening I heard the manager on the phone with the woman; her new story was that there was a missing book that she hadn't gotten "credit" for. The manager could not find the "missing" book. I believe there was no such book to be found, that she didn't get everything she wanted earlier, and was now trying another tact to screw the store. I told the manager of my suspicions and she detailed the entire episode in her notes that are presumably shared upon high.
Sidebar: She was brazen, but in a different way from those teachers who use their educator cards to buy personal items, then lie straight to my face when I remind them of our "classroom only" policy. In those instances as well, I can only question them about the policy without in any way being accusatory, but instead try to get them to own up to what's right. See, when they sign up for the educator's card they are told how they can use it - 20% discount on items for the classroom except during teacher appreciation periods when they get a 25% personal discount - but we aren't allowed to enforce the policy. So when teachers' kids hand me a stack of books clearly meant for them, then mom or dad whips out their educator card, I politely ask if the books are for classroom use. I don't tell them to put away their card since they're violating the policy, but hope that forcing them to lie to me will make them feel bad enough to not do it again.
Why was I so suspicious about this woman? Intuition. Something about her...and her stories...just wasn't right. And it reminded me of what happened about a year ago. I'd seen a woman walk from one side of the store to the other holding a large, coffee-table sized book. For some reason I felt I needed to keep watching her, and a few moments later as she walked down the middle aisle toward the exit, I didn't see the book. Yes, she could have put it down somewhere, but I grabbed a manager and told her I thought the woman was trying to steal, and as soon as I watched her side-step the walk-through security device by the front exit, I knew I was right. Texas law is very bizarre as regards shop-lifters and how stores are allowed to deal with them, so the best the manager could do was write down her car's license plate number, report it, and share it, along with a still photo made out of security tapes, with other B&N's in our district. The next weekend I heard they'd caught her at another store before she could steal again.
I don't know why I knew the woman last year was a thief...but I did. Just as I know the woman last night was a scam artist...and that the angry byotch's behavior wasn't kosher either. Ah, the seedy side to retail.
Monday was hectic, almost frantic. I needed to finish a book and review it for PW, but my daughter needed some assistance on the job front, and at three in the afternoon I got a call from the bookstore asking if I could work a short shift that night. All of which meant I'd need to be done with everything before leaving at 4:45, which now included a shower and hair-dry along with finishing my review and helping with the resume and online job applications.
Because of where we live in relation to the bookstore, if I'm not on the road by 4:45, it can take up to an hour to drive what otherwise only takes 20 minutes. I'm not a happy traffic driver, so whenever I'm scheduled during the week at six or even seven, I leave home early and bring work to a Starbucks near the store (not the one next door, though - it has only two comfy chairs).
I'd forgotten TPTB planned a store visit Tuesday, which meant the palpable stress affecting store managers crossed over onto those of us working that night. None of us wanted our bosses to look bad, and the store had to be "just so." The night ended later than usual and I did something I'd never done: Shift an entire zone in accordance with B&N guidelines. Since I'd worked Kids, that was my zone to shift, and as it's a quite different zone than the rest of the store, it can be intimidating. Shifting - and I think I'm using the correct term - is assuring that each shelf has a mix of books shelved spine out and those shelved with their fronts showing. There are rules regarding the arrangement of hardcovers, trade-size, and regular paperbacks, as well as a rule about the number of books within a set of face-outs. To make one shelf look right might involve shifting three or four other shelves, so it can be a down-on-your-knees kind of process. Kids needed work, and I've had about ten minutes of shifting training, but with some advice I think I managed well. I went to bed sore and exhausted, but excited because I knew I'd be reading Chaos Bites Tuesday.
The next morning, then, after errands, I settled in for my treat by first downloading the book onto my Kindle and then reading it...in a single sitting. By the time I left for work yesterday afternoon, I'd already finished and decided to write my review a day early. I took my laptop to Starbucks, and because so few people read this blog, decided I could help the author more - which I want to do since I'd like the Phoenix Chronicles to live long and prosper - by posting it at Amazon rather than here.
I finished with about five minutes to spare - you can click here to read my review - then went to work. The atmosphere was far more relaxed last night, and when I realized Chaos Bites was in house, I grabbed it and the three books preceding it in the series, and took them, along with a copy of Sandman Slim, to Cash/Wrap. Within five minutes one of my regular customers came in and I sold her the entire Phoenix Chronicles. A little while later and I'd sold my sixth copy of Sandman Slim since the weekend. I short-listed the first three books in Handeland's series, which we were now out of, explaining in my notes that I can best sell the nine remaining copies of the new book if I sell the series as a set. When I work again on Saturday I'll see if they ordered Any Given Doomsday, Doomsday Can Wait, and Apocalypse Happens in the numbers I requested.
A while ago the store manager called to see if I could work again today, but I'd already committed to taking Rachael to the movies. I generally take any extra shift offered, but feel the need for some fun time with my daughter. I don't even know what she's picked out, but we're leaving at two.
The first thing I did last night when I got to work was checked to see if Lori Handeland's Chaos Bites had come in. It had not. 
Next I checked to see if we had Richard Kadrey's Sandman Slim. We did...it came in Thursday and was shelved Friday, without any promos, meaning copies were simply shelved in the section. Tonight I must rectify that and will local-store-list it to New in SF/F.
Ten copies of each book been ordered, and for the past two weeks every Jim Butcher customer I waited on got a slip of paper with "Richard Kadrey - Sandman Slim" written on it, accompanied by this verbal pitch: "It's a very dark, sarcastic, and violent urban fantasy novel. This guy gets sent to hell and escapes 11 years later...and he's pretty angry about it. It's awesome."
I grabbed two copies, among other books I thought I'd try to sell, and went up to Cash/Wrap. Jeff, another bookseller, was there, and a few minutes later, as he checked out a customer with Patricia Briggs books, he sort of opened his body language up so I could see what he was doing. I came over with the Kadrey book and my little spiel, and the woman took the book out of my hands, gave it to Jeff, and asked him to ring it up. Before she walked away, she had an entire list of authors and books to try, and I'm guessing she'll try some of them. Hopefully we have another happy customer.
I sold the other copy of Kadrey's book later in the evening. It wasn't my greatest ever hand-sell night ever (though I did well with new memberships), but historical romance readers did hear about the upcoming Mary Balogh release - A Secret Affair - which is my first Desert Isle Keeper in ten months (that link is to my review at Amazon Vine). 
I also managed to hand-sell a book I'd not even taken up to the counter with me. It was about ten in the evening and a very nice couple came up with several books. Both were clearly serious readers, and as a result of what I saw, I gave them my The Fifth Mountain (Paulo Coelho) talk, which goes something like this:
"You've probably heard about The Alchemist, but this book is much less well-known. It's incredibly beautifully written, very spare...every word counts...and is a fictional re-telling of the prophet Elijah. I don't usually read books like this, but it's amazing. Whenever we have a copy in the store, I try and remember to bring it up with me to hand-sell. You'll love it."
Although I didn't have the book with me, the husband was interested, so I called the Info desk. Jamie, the store manager, actually picked up, and when she brought me the book, the man indicated I should add it to their other purchases. As soon as I handed the bag to him, he removed the book. He had that look in his eye - I knew he planned to start reading Coelho's book immediately, but I cautioned him to wait. If he started tonight, he wouldn't be going to sleep until he'd finished, at some point in the middle of the night. He said it would be a struggle, but promised he wouldn't start it until today.
All that aside, I've got ants in my pants for Chaos Bites. Both it and the Kadrey book share the same sale date (April 27)...so where the hell is it? As I write this I've got to finish a book for a PW review tomorrow, and then there are two Amazon Vine books that arrived a few days ago. But the Kindle version of Handeland's book will be available for download on Tuesday, and it'll get moved to the top of the pile. Honestly, I can't wait.
What makes the Phoenix Chronicles so fantastic is that Handeland goes beyond the usual vampires, werewolves, and the fae. To be sure they exist in the series, but they're not just random monsters. She uses biblical lore and Native American mythology, among other religious and ancient motifs, for an incredibly rich and vibrant world. The excitement and action of great urban fantasy is there, but it's better for the world-building and because of Handeland's romance background. Say what you will about romance authors, but good ones know how to craft three-dimensional characters. Handeland accomplished what L.A. Banks tried to do in her Vampire Huntress series, but she did it oh, so much better. Even the final book in Banks' series, which was chock full of action, bored me in comparison to what Handeland has accomplished so far in her series, particularly in the first and third books. Each left me wanting the next entry immediately.
Here is the PW review I wrote for book one in the series, Any Given Doomsday:
Handeland (Thunder Moon) launches the intriguing Phoenix Chronicles urban fantasy series with a strong story that's only missing one thing: a glossary of the multitude of paranormal creatures tied to biblical lore. Psychic ex-cop Elizabeth Phoenix reluctantly takes the case after her foster mother, Ruthie, is murdered by monsters. Soon she's pointing out demons to her ex-boyfriend Jimmy, a half-vampire battling an army of Nephilim who plan to enslave and destroy humanity. They fight their way from Wisconsin to the southwest, where Jimmy leaves Elizabeth with Sawyer, a powerful Navajo shape-changer who awakens her libido as well as her psychic powers. Elizabeth's wry demeanor and complex relationships with Sawyer and Jimmy share center stage with the dramatic story line. The biblical component, while often confusing, adds dramatic dimension, and the demons' evil plans and vividly described handiwork create immense suspense for the final battle.
I wish now that my review had been even stronger, but at the time I wrote it, I'd not yet become as immersed in urban fantasy as I am today. So I hadn't read all the books now under my belt and didn't know just how much better the Phoenix Chronicles are in comparison to most. Had I written a stronger review, perhaps more readers would have discovered the series.
I tell those I've sold the first three books together that book two - Doomsday Can Wait - isn't quite as strong as books one and three, but it's still a good read. Here's the blurb:
"It took the near annihilation of humanity for Liz Phoenix to understand the true meaning of her premonitions. Liz is one of the sacred few on earth who has the psychic powers to fight the malevolent forces that have tried to wipe out the human race since the beginning of time. She battled these beings once, thwarting Doomsday but losing most of her soldiers in the massacre. Now she must replenish her troops quickly—because the supernatural war isn't over yet.
"As the new leader of the federation, Liz is marked for death by a Navajo witch with a link to her past. To survive, she must rely on her few remaining allies—her mentor, a shaman with too many secrets, as well as ex-lover, Jimmy Sanducci. Bringing Jimmy into the mix is a dangerous move, for Liz's darkest desires are razor-sharp—and her longing for Jimmy is at a fever pitch. But can Liz afford to give into the cravings that burn inside her, with the next shot at Doomsday just around the corner? This time, if evil wins, chaos will reign—and the world as we know it will be lost forever..."
The third book in the series, Apocalypse Happens, is as good, if not slightly better, than book one, and part of the reason why is that Handeland goes balls-to-the-wall in terms of what she's willing to do to propel the series' arc. Not that she does anything simply for dramatic effect - no - yet this is anything but a safe ride. To say more would give spoilers, but what happens near the end of this book is something I might have expected in a much later entry in the series...if at all...because no doubt a sub-set of readers will have a difficult time accepting the outcome. While I was shocked out of my seat, I'm totally in for the remainder of the ride, and can only hope it'll be a lengthy one. That said, there's only one additional title listed (Demons at the Gate) on Handeland's website.
Before ending this blog entry, here's the blurb for book three:
"Elizabeth Phoenix is one of a select few with the power to battle those who have escaped from the darkest level of hell—demons bent on destroying humanity and reclaiming earth once and for all. Liz is determined to stop yet another Doomsday. But this time, it's going to be more difficult than ever because someone she thought was dead isn't dead anymore...and is bound and determined to destroy Liz and everyone she loves in the upcoming Apocalypse.
"Liz has arrived in Los Angeles to ferret out a nest of varcolacs: half human, half dragon creatures who crave the destruction of the sun and moon. But before she can prevent the kind of eclipse that would bring the world to an end, Liz must mine the depths of her own heart. She and her former lover Jimmy Sanducci have some personal demons to battle—and there's always her mentor, the Navajo shaman Sawyer. Is he on their side or isn't he? In the end, the three of them must find a way to fight together...or perish alone."
Again, for all those urban fantasy readers out there, if you've not yet picked up Lori Handeland's Phoenix Chronicles, please do. She can only continue to write them if enough people buy them.
Because this blog entry is so lengthy, and because I have a review to write tomorrow, I won't write here again untilTuesdayWednesday, after I've had a chance to read Chaos Bites (that link is for an excerpt at the author's site).
Last night was my first shift in about two weeks, and a test of how well I'm feeling after being sick with whatever all week. While 90% of my respiritory symptoms have abated, that "cotton in the head" feeling remains as strong as it did last Monday.
The night started out strong; I hand-sold from my register a copy of Lisa Kleypas' Then Came You almost immediately to a woman who'd never read the author's earlier work. I noticed that of the 48 copies of Changeless, ten had already been sold. Though I did sell two more, we lost two double sales to customers who would have tried Changeless if they could also have bought Soulless. Needles to say, I short-listed several additional copies of Soulless.
As for recommendations, I made one couple pretty happy (I'm not quite sure what it was they bought that tipped me off) when I mentioned the up-coming reissue of a few of Mary Alice Monroe's best. As I talked to them about her, the husband realized his wife had loved The Beach House (sweet, right?), so when I handed them a slip of paper with Sweetgrass, Swimming Lessons, and Time Is a River hand-written on it, I knew I'd made a future sale. I also know that the next time another couple returns, they will take a strong look at Christopher Moore's A Dirty Job and Lamb (another hand-written slip of paper)...
it's not a huge leap from Spencer Quinn's Dog Gone It to Moore's absurdist humor. I hope my Sandman Slim recommendation (the mass market release for Richard Kadrey's book comes out late this month) does the same magic for the guy who bought some Jim Butcher...he seemed intrigued and appreciative with his hand-written slip of paper.
I've gotten into the habit of trying to recommend something to as many customers as possible based on what they buy. For most of them this is a novel experience, but for me it's very natural. I talk to just about everyone who checks out at my station unless a line requires I move it along. My philosophy is that this type of personalized customer service is what brings people back to the store. I don't know if this is true, but it feels right. I do know that I have some "returning" customers who actually carry my lists around with them...checking titles/authors off as they read them, and adding/buying based on new recommendations. On the other hand, none of the notes from customers lauding particular booksellers that are pinned to the break room bulletin board are for me.
Not at all great on the selling of memberships, though; just one new one and one renewal in 3.5 hours spent cashiering. At the start of the month, that's pretty dismal (if you buy a membership early in the month, it's like getting an extra month for free, which can be a strong selling point). But the biggest "cotton in the head" moment came when I attempted to wrap a book for a customer to give as a gift. We had some pretty paper not on the big roll attached to the wall like toilet paper so I decided to use it. Unfortunately, I mis-measured not once but twice (horribly embarrassing). Certainly my least stellar moment of the evening, although that I was sent back to re-work several shelves during nightly store recovery was another suckie event because, hey, it's not exactly rocket science.
I noticed that we have not received our ten copies of Chaos Bites, which I would dearly love to sell like mad. Alas, we have precisely one copy each of books 1 - 3 in Handeland's Phoenix Chronicles, so it's going to be very tough going to move these because this series remains a total buried treasure. With such strong sales so far for Changeless at the bookstore, I feel as though the pressure is off me to sell it like a maniac, so my investment has totally shifted to Handeland's urban fantasy series. For the first and only time since leaving AAR I wish I still had access to its thousands of readers in order to extoll the series' virtues. Why, exactly, I'm not sure, but it's almost become an obsession for me to see this series take off at the level of Keri Arthur's Riley Jenson books.
Luckily I have more hours this next week than the 5.5 I had for the week just ended, but shifts are still in short supply. If I were to judge by iPad-mania, the recession must have been rescinded, but considering how hard it is to sell memberships these days, I guess not.
We'll see how it goes Tuesday evening. With any luck, there won't be any cotton in my head.
Finally, it's very odd to blog knowing that barely anybody reads this. Regardless, I'm going to keep at it...at least for a while.
