The Diary of a Bookseller
Page 25
FRIDAY, 12 DECEMBER
Online orders: 1
Books found: 0
Nicky arrived in her black ski suit as usual, with a pasty from the Morrisons skip. It bore more resemblance to a giant scab than to an edible treat. ‘Eh, it’s delicious. Go on, have a bit.’ It was revolting. Foodie Friday has become a low point in the week, particularly since the cinnamon roll incident.
Today was particularly slow in the shop, and bitterly cold. Nicky’s Facebook post:
Dear friends, Nicky here! When I arrived at work this morning my emotions were all over the place on spying a red light glowing by the counter … was that a heater? Could I remove my Snuggies?
Yes and No. It was a heater with ONLY the light turned on. Snuggies will be in place until April.
Oh, most distressing news in this week’s Free Press – a coin was stolen from a vehicle parked on a farm. What is the world coming to?
Don’t tell him I was here.
Nicky brought in five pairs of glasses that she had bought at the pound shop in Bathgate, for customers who forget their own.
Someone from a lowland distillery heard that we’d acquired the whisky book collection and came to the shop. He offered me £600 for the Barnard, which I gladly took, as it means I am half-way to recouping my investment within a few days. Had it been in better condition, I could probably have doubled that price.
Callum finished work on insulating the wall. Now we need to find someone to plaster it before we can put up new shelves in time for Christmas.
Till total £79.50
3 customers
SATURDAY, 13 DECEMBER
Online orders: 3
Books found: 2
By 9.22 a.m. I had dealt with today’s orders, but there was still no sign of Nicky. At 10 a.m. I received a text message from her: ‘Am in a ditch near the Doon of May. Waiting on a tractor to pull me out.’ She managed to hitch in from the ditch. The Doon is a piece of land near the pretty village of Elrig. It is owned by a man called Jeff, and he runs it as a sort of commune. Nicky eventually appeared at 10.45 a.m.
In the afternoon my father appeared to ask me to print something off for a meeting he has on Wednesday. He and my mother can navigate their way around their iPads, but beyond that family assistance is required for anything relating to computers. The discussion in the shop revolved around what time ‘the afternoon’ officially begins. I said noon. Anna said 11 a.m. My father said, ‘Not until I’ve finished my lunch.’
Till total £121.79
10 customers
MONDAY, 15 DECEMBER
Online orders: 2
Books found: 1
As I was sorting through some boxes – possibly from one of the ministers’ collections – I came across two books that you would not expect to find in the same box: a copy of Mein Kampf and an olivewood Bible from Jerusalem.
Coming across a copy of Mein Kampf can place you in a tricky position, morally. The copy we have is worth about £60, and a lot of dealers understandably will not touch it, but there is demand for it – not huge, but sufficient to know that this one will go within a month. The question you never know the answer to is into whose hands it will end up falling – some far-right lunatic, or a historian who is debunking Holocaust-deniers. The market for Mein Kampf will change next year in any case, once the copyright expires in Germany.
Till total £149.50
11 customers
TUESDAY, 16 DECEMBER
Online orders: 1
Books found: 1
Nicky came in as I had an appointment to see the back specialist in Dumfries Infirmary at 11 a.m. I’ve been referred to the MRI unit for a scan. While I was in Dumfries, I took the opportunity to look at some books belonging to an elderly woman whose husband died in May. She was in a tiny flat conveniently close to the hospital. The books were all about fishing, and some of them were reasonably rare. We agreed a price of £250 for four boxes, and when I told her I was a keen fly fisherman, she insisted on giving me all of his old fly boxes. As I was going through the shelves, I noticed that on a lot of the tables and shelves photograph frames had been lain face down. I turned a few of them over out of curiosity. They were all of the same person, presumably her husband. Perhaps she couldn’t face being reminded of him.
More Facebook activity from Nicky:
Dear friends, Nicky here!
Some of you may not be aware of how caring & generous Shaun is. When I finally arrived on the Black, Black Ice day, vanless, he allowed me to flatten a cardboard box & lay it, DOUBLE THICKNESS, on the floor under the worktop, to keep out some of the winter draughts. How kind is that! And with the red light glowing on the heater (even minus any heat), it feels so cosy. He’s lovely!
I have been struggling to find a plasterer to finish the newly insulated wall, and Christmas looms ever closer.
Till total £58.49
8 customers
WEDNESDAY, 17 DECEMBER
Online orders: 3
Books found: 3
One customer – who had been in for about two hours, and had been the only person in the shop during that entire time – said, ‘This must be your busy time of year, then, the run-up to Christmas.’ There was literally nobody else in the shop for the entire time he was there. Quite what he imagined the shop was like for the rest of the year I have no idea.
Finished The Restraint of Beasts.
Till total £103.09
8 customers
THURSDAY, 18 DECEMBER
Online orders: 2
Books found: 2
At 10 a.m. the first customer came through the door: ‘I’m not really interested in books’ followed by ‘Let me tell you what I think about nuclear power.’ By 10.30 a.m. the will to live was but a distant memory.
When I took the orders over to Wilma, William was regaling a clearly unwilling customer with a joke of such colossal political incorrectness that, if there was a Beaufort scale of these things, it would have been of a magnitude so great that a new scale would have had to be created. I asked Wilma if she could send the postman over tomorrow to pick up the sacks when he does his end-of-day collection.
The fishing books from the Dumfries deal, while not exactly flying off the shelves, are selling notably faster than anything else. This is a common phenomenon, even in a shop of this relatively large size: it is the fresh stock that always moves the fastest. I suppose there is a sense to it, inasmuch as a book that has been on the shelves for a year and has not sold is probably overpriced or lacks any sort of market. It doesn’t feel like that, though; it is almost as though the stock that has just come in actually looks fresher, and the books that have been sitting on the shelves for ages have acquired a certain staleness, rendering them unsellable.
As I was sorting through the boxes of books from Loch Lomond, I found another Sorley MacLean pamphlet signed by Seamus Heaney. The total print run was fifty; I now have two of them. They should make £100 each. Like the Walter Scott signature and the Florence Nightingale inscribed book, there is something that makes you feel connected to those people when you handle material like this. Perhaps the more interesting mystery is that you never know who has handled all the unsigned, un-inscribed books that come into the shop, and what their secret history has been.
We received another email from the Bay Bookshop in Colwyn Bay, Wales. They are closing the shop soon and want to know if we would like to buy the stock. They clearly haven’t had any luck selling it elsewhere. I’ve asked them to email me some photographs.
Till total £184.49
7 customers
FRIDAY, 19 DECEMBER
Online orders: 1
Books found: 1
Colwyn Bay replied with some photos of what looks like reasonable stock of 20,000 books. Apparently they have had an offer that is well below what they are looking for. I suspect that my offer would be in the same region, so I am not going to bother. Very few people now will take on a deal of that size, so you can pretty much name your price. I suspect
they are going to struggle to shift them.
The shop was as quiet and cold as the grave, speaking of which, I must ask Nicky if any of our regulars has died recently.
I was sorting through boxes of books when I spotted a copy of Petronius’ Satyricon. Started flicking through it and I think I’ll attempt to read it.
The postman picked up the Random Book Club mail sacks at 3.30 p.m.
Nicky is staying tonight and will be working tomorrow, so that means I will have a bit more freedom to do such exciting things as go to the bank, then to the sawmill to pick up timber for new shelves, and even clean the van.
Till total £122
8 customers
SATURDAY, 20 DECEMBER
Online orders: 5
Books found: 5
Nicky in. While I drove to nearby Penkiln sawmill to collect the timber for the new shelves to go over the newly insulated wall, she hijacked the Facebook page again.
Dear friends, Nicky here!
WOW, did we upset the neighbours last night with our ‘End of Year’ Book Shop mash-up of hip-hop & swing dance moves then some hard drugs (2 ibuprofen each!) knowing that the elderly staff members wouldn’t be able to walk today. That’s the way we roll. Yeah.
I told Nicky that I couldn’t find a plasterer to finish the wall Callum has insulated, and that I want the job done before Christmas. She said ‘leave it to me’ and walked out of the shop. Five minutes later she was back with someone called Mark, who looked at the job and told me that he can do it tomorrow. She had gone to the bus stop and asked the people in the queue ‘Is anyone here a plasterer?’ and he had said yes.
Nicky has found a place in Glasgow that will take our reject stock and recycle it, Smurfit Kappa (Cash for Clothes recently told us that they’re not operating in Galloway any more). They will pay us £40 a ton for it, which should cover the fuel costs of getting there so I’ll head up in the New Year with a van load.
Till total £82
9 customers
SUNDAY 21 DECEMBER
Mark the plasterer came in at about 8.30 a.m. and plastered the wall.
MONDAY, 22 DECEMBER
Online orders: 3
Books found: 2
All the books that were on the shelves we removed to insulate the wall were boxed and put in front of a section that NOBODY ever asks for – geology. They have been there since Callum began working on insulating the wall. Today’s first customer, a man with a crutch and a limp, appeared and asked, ‘Where’s the geology section?’
Sandy the tattooed pagan came in to wish me a happy winter solstice for yesterday.
I spent the evening building shelves and putting the boxed books back on them.
Colwyn Bay Bookshop has put its stock on eBay with a price of £20,000. There is no way it will sell for that much. They will be doing well if they can realise £5,000.
Till total £181.50
13 customers
TUESDAY, 23 DECEMBER
Online orders: 4
Books found: 4
This morning a customer returned a book that we had posted out last week, with a note saying, ‘Please refund as book looks second hand, not new as expected.’ The book in question was John MacCormick’s The Flag in the Wind, and the cover is designed to look deliberately distressed and aged. It was brand new.
Between Christmas and the first Monday of New Year the shop opens at 10 a.m. rather than 9 a.m., so I put a sign in the shop window.
What a feeble effort I make with Christmas decorations in the shop. They went up today and consisted of a few branches of holly, donated by Bev, and some ivy cut from a local farmer’s driveway, illuminated by some cheap fairy lights. I decorated each window and a bit in the hall.
Anna and I drove up to Edinburgh to spend Christmas at my sister Lulu’s house. I left a note for Nicky (who doesn’t celebrate Christmas) asking her to keep the shop tidy and feed the cat.
Till total £140.10
13 customers
WEDNESDAY, 24 DECEMBER
Online orders: 6
Books found: 5
Nicky in charge of the bookshop over the festive season.
THURSDAY, 25 DECEMBER
Christmas Day. Closed.
FRIDAY, 26 DECEMBER
Boxing Day. Closed.
Anna and I drove home from Edinburgh.
SATURDAY, 27 DECEMBER
Online orders: 3
Books found: 3
Nicky was in today. Apparently she had been waiting patiently outside since 9 a.m. – I had forgotten to tell her that the shop opens at 10 a.m. during the holidays. She was furious. One of the orders today was for a book called Cuckoo Problems.
I spent much of the day ploughing through piles of emails offering to improve traffic to my web site, enlarge my penis, and lend me money. The business doesn’t have the financial where-withal to do any of them, sadly. Among all the spam were four new Random Book Club subscriptions, which would suggest that people have been giving them as Christmas presents.
Disappointingly quiet day. Perhaps visitors to the area think we’re not open.
Till total £140.20
14 customers
MONDAY, 29 DECEMBER
Online orders: 2
Books found: 2
Cold, frosty, sunny day. There was ice on the inside of the kitchen windows when I made breakfast. Opened the shop at 10 a.m. The treat of an extra hour in bed between Christmas and New Year is a luxury. When I checked the emails, I found one from Nicky: ‘Are you working today? Hahahahahaha!’
The shop was quiet until about 11.30 a.m., when a few people began to trickle in. After lunch a teenage girl – who had been sitting by the fire reading for an hour – brought three Agatha Christie paperbacks to the counter; the total came to £8. She offered me a limp fiver and said, ‘Can I have them for £5?’ I refused, telling her that the postage on Amazon alone would come to £7.40. She wandered off muttering about getting them from the library. Good luck with that: Wigtown library is full of computers and DVDs and not a lot of books.
By 4.30 p.m. I was considering closing early, but nine people arrived and wandered around picking up books, so I stayed open until 5.30. They spent £60.
I still haven’t submitted the application for the James Patterson grant, so I frantically checked his web site and found that the deadline is 15 January 2015.
Struggling slightly with Satyricon, but largely because of the gaps rather than the prose. Far more entertaining than I imagined.
Till total £323.97
25 customers
TUESDAY, 30 DECEMBER
Online orders: 1
Books found: 0
Busy day in the shop, with families visiting grandparents and couples escaping from their parents. No large sales, but steady all day.
Till total £401.33
30 customers
WEDNESDAY, 31 DECEMBER
Online orders: 3
Books found: 2
The shop was busy right through the day. By lunchtime nobody had been rude or asked for a discount. The dream-like tranquillity was finally shattered by Peter Bestel, who came into the shop to tell me that a dog had shat on the doorstep. Peter is a friend whose daughter Zoe is trying to carve out a career as a singer/songwriter. She is extremely talented, and Anna and I made a video for her a few years ago. Peter is the brains behind the Random Book Club web site, and is always there with technical advice whenever I need it. Which is most of the time.
Shortly after I had removed the dog shit with a spade, a family of five came into the shop. The children stamped their muddy boots near the door, but inside the shop rather than outside. They all left without even looking at a book between them.
Anna and I drove down to the Isle of Whithorn to stay with friends for Hogmanay.
Till total £457.50
37 customers
JANUARY
A bookseller has to tell lies about books, and that gives him a distaste for them; still worse is the fact that he is co
nstantly dusting them and hauling them to and fro. There was a time when I really did love books – loved the sight and smell and feel of them, I mean, at least if they were fifty or more years old. Nothing pleased me quite so much as to buy a job lot of them for a shilling at a country auction.
George Orwell, ‘Bookshop Memories’
On this part of his essay, I have to concede that I have some sympathy with Orwell. While I still love books, they no longer have the mystique that they once had – with the exception of antiquarian books illustrated with hand-coloured copperplate engravings or woodcuts. Once I had in my possession Lilies, eight hand-coloured bound plates from Thornton’s Temple of Flora. I doubt whether I shall ever see so beautiful a book again. It was in an elderly widow’s house in Ayrshire. I had gone through the books she was selling – a thousand or so – and found very little of value or even of interest until when, just as I was about to leave, I spotted the book leaning against a table leg in the dining room. I asked if she would mind if I had a look at it, as I had never seen a copy before. When I told her what it was worth, she asked me if I could sell it for her (I confessed that at the time buying it was beyond my means), so I took it home, had some minor repairs done to it by a local binder and consigned it to Lyon & Turnbull’s Edinburgh saleroom, where it realised somewhere in the region of £8,000.
Even the octavo set of Audubon’s Birds of America that briefly fell into my possession (one of the holy grails for any bookseller) could not come close to that. Such things will never lose their appeal. And while there is always the thrill of the chase as I approach a house whose library I might buy, and have not yet seen, I read little compared with my life before I bought the shop, unless I am travelling by train or plane. In those journeys I am free from the distractions that punctuate my daily life and can immerse myself completely in a book. When I read James Hogg’s The Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified Sinner, which I started and finished on a train journey to London to see Anna, I clearly remember emerging from Hogg’s extraordinary world, blinking and stunned into Euston station – more disorientated by the place than ever.