La Librarie
My mama always said there wasn’t a rule I didn’t question, a line I didn’t want to cross. So you can imagine how statistics like this play in my mind:
Less than 1% of books are sold in bookstores.
I couldn’t pay attention to numbers like this when I was writing Lu, but now that it’s here, they lie like a line in the sand. I’ve never been in the top percent of anything, so it’d make sense to quit before I even try. I’ve done it before.
But then there’s this other part of me that approaches the line anyway. I look at it from all angles. I sit back on my heels and reach out my finger to touch it.
Who drew this, anyway? Who are you and what are your credentials to make this claim? Your number came from where? And when? What’s the sample size? Which authors did you query? How did you define bookstore? Which ones did you ask? What types of books are you talking about? What exactly do you mean by one percent?
And what does any of this have to do with Lu & Me?
Welcome to my mind! But even a rebel needs help. Last week, I enlisted one of my longest-standing comrades – Megan Walsh, whom I met in high school French class – in my mission to take on the Midwestern Mecca of all bookstores – The Book Loft in Columbus, Ohio.
Ever been? It’s 32 rooms jammed with enough reading goodness to send readers into a flurry of accounting. How many books can I afford to buy? How many do I have the strength to carry? How much time do I have to read … assuming I ever find my way out of this book maze?
My book. For sale. Here? I’d die.
So we hopped to it, Megs & Me – her starring in the role of disgruntled reader while I played director.
Megs wanders The Book Loft with expectations of a great read, only to be frustrated with the selection. She’s about to exit the way she came when …
What’s this?!?!? This beautiful minimalist cover with the one-word title and inexplicable period?
She opens it with a discerning eye, not to be taken in by merely a pretty face.
She starts laughing.
And quickly flips through the rest to see whether it’s worthy of her time.
And then she settles in – finishing it right then and there and resolving to buy out The Book Loft of all its Lu to give to every woman in the great state of Ohio.
Brilliant, right? Megs and I didn’t sweep the Academy Awards in AP French with our mystery noir, Le Goulot, for nothing! The Book Loft was never going to know what hit it … but for the employee who’d been shelving books behind us the whole time.
“Seems like you girls have a plan,” he noted once we’d called cut.
“Oh yeah,” I nod with my most serious author-girl face.
“That’s a nice cover, and I should know. I went to the Columbus College of Art and Design.”
“Well do you also know how I can get The Book Loft to carry my book?”
“You just have to ask at the front desk.”
Right. The front desk, where you can pick up a business card and contact a guy named Glen who’s more than happy to work with local authors, even without a pilot episode. In short, you should be able to get your Lu there by summer’s end (and of course I will let you know when this happy date arrives. I will probably make you road trip to Columbus with me).
Less than 1% of books are sold in bookstores.
One percent, schmum percent. I smudge that silly line with my finger and hop right over it.
