A touch of nostalgia

[temporus]

Mr. Jordan's passing brought up the memory of how and why I first started reading his novels.  It might come as little surprise, that growing up (as now) I was a frequent patron of book stores.  In my home town was a local book store.  It was known as the Book Stop. (And a quick google search shows the store is still there, yay!)  I used to stop in to peruse the shelves anywhere from 1-5 days a week, pretty much every week from junior high on.  It was my main source of both D&D items, as well as books.  I spent countless hours going through the shelves over the years, and the sales person got to know me and my father.  (My father consumes books at a rate most people eat food.)  After I graduated and went off to college, I would still stop in at the store when ever I was home for a visit or on breaks.  Dennis, the sales clerk, knew me.  He knew most of what I read, because most of what I read, he'd sold me.  Over the years, he'd steer me to a book here, or a suggestion there.  And he'd always inquire, which books I liked, or didn't.

Then one year, I think somewhere around 1992 (yes I joined the bandwagon a bit late) he started chatting up this series he'd heard great things about.  The Wheel of Time.  They were out of the first book, but if I was interested he'd place an order for me.  Why not, I thought.  By that thursday (the day shipments arrived) I was holding The Eye of the World in my hands.  Dennis had not steered me wrong.  I did indeed love the book, and acquired the other books out at that time, reading them voraciously back at school.  Later when I learned that authors made more money from hardcovers than from the paperbacks (and a bit due to impatience for the new editions and some adhesive problems of the paperbacks too) I started to purchase this series in hardcover.  I even managed to back collect the earlier novels that I had in paperback.  The WoT continued to be one of the series I would save up money for, even while in college and poor, forgoing quantity of other novels to own the hardcover.  I'm quite happy with my collection of the series.   If his family releases a final volume, whatever the format, I will proudly add it to the rest.

I'm still the guy who is constantly perusing the book store shelves.  These days, the book stores are large chain stores.  They are places one can go sit, have a beverage, meet a friend, and relax.  The overall number of books is immense.  Yet, except for the time when I had a friend who became an employee of the local bookstore, I never really had that kind of connection.  It's not that the employees aren't friendly, or willing to help.  They are, and they do.  But there's something different between being one of hundreds of daily customers, being served by one of dozens of employees, some of whom you might not see again for a month or more, and being a customer known by the single salesclerk and the store owner.   Being seen day in, day out, by the same limited person.  They knew me, they knew my father, my brother.  They knew books I'd like.  Books to point out and mention to my dad.   Amazon, even with their suggestions, and people who bought this book also bought ___ can't compare to the kind of service I got from a real friendly home town bookstore.  I guess that's why people think of the past as the good ol' days.

Comments

[pamphiliawrites.livejournal.com]

It's sooo sad that Robert Jordan passed away. I'm bummed, cradling The Wheel of Time in my lap.

[temporus.livejournal.com]

I got the update from his blog last night (via his cousin) and I've been bummed for the last 24 hours straight. I swear I was a zombie at work. I don't imagine most of the folks I work with would understand why I would be so sad that an author died. Especially one I'd never met.

[dqg-neal.livejournal.com]

"But there's something different between being one of hundreds of daily customers, being served by one of dozens of employees, some of whom you might not see again for a month or more, and being a customer known by the single salesclerk and the store owner."

Yes, but there is also no incentive for the sales reps in the large bookstores to know their customers. Good waiters/waitresses will try and learn about you under the same circumstances above.

[temporus.livejournal.com]

It's true, they do not have tips as a direct financial incentive. But, I imagine that there's a whole "pride of a job well done" thing that should go along with it. As to wait staff, sure there are some instances where I get remembered. Usually, however, these are in the smaller, more personal places than in the large chains.

On the otherhand, Dennis didn't have specific financial incentive to get to know me as a customer either. While I did purchase most of my books there, the number of books I was buying as a kid was small change.

[booksherpa.livejournal.com]

Speaking as that bookstore employee friend, I have to agree. As good as many of us are, we can't always give the same service that a small shop can. I think a large piece of that is volume, though. I absolutely prided myself on my ability to help someone, and to hook up someone with the right book, but there were not that many faces I remembered, especially if they only came in occasionally.

I'll tell you, though, if you get the right chain bookstore employee, they're going to be *thrilled* to help a nice, polite customer find good books. So much of what we do is finding specific things, it's nice to be able to actually recommend stuff now and then. Your best bet is to go up to the information desk, tell the employee "I read X. Do you have an employee that's really into X that can recommend some books?" and hope that they do, and that that person is working then.

And yes, even though I've been gone from there almost a year now, I still talk in the present tense about working there. You can take the girl out of the bookstore, but you can't take the bookstore out of the girl. :)

[temporus.livejournal.com]

There is no doubt, that if I wanted to find a helpful employee at Borders (or the B&N) I could do so. On many an occasion, I get approached with a polite and friendly: "Is there anything I can help you find?" type of question.

The difference is, Dennis didn't need to ask. Or wait for me to ask. I'd walk into the store, and he'd say: the new books waiting to be shelved are in that box there, feel free to look through them. Or, I just got a new Pern book. Etc. He's exactly the kind of extrovert that I, as an extreme introvert, needed.

I'm not likely to step up to that stranger at the info desk. Certainly not when I can use the various kiosks to find what I need. And the polite questions they use to be helpful but unobtrusive give me the easy out of saying no thanks. They can get back to their hectic big store bustle, and I can get back to wandering among the stacks--which is a joy unto itself apart from reading and purchasing. This isn't a diatribe against the big stores, or the employees. There are good things about a big store too, and many fine employees. There is, however, a difference.