Author Events: Drawing in Readers, or Turning Them Away?

I enjoy reading, buying books and meeting authors. You would think these activities are compatible with the mission of bookstores. However, in recent times, I've found the act of buying a book has cost me author opportunities.

In January, Ransom Riggs released the second Miss Peregrine book, which I consumed promptly. The author was coming to a Barnes & Noble bookstore near me soon after the book was released, so I finished the book early (to avoid Spoilers some people just can't resist). I brought my stack of Riggs books with me in case he was signing.

When I arrived, a B&N employee informed me that only books purchased that day at B&N would be signed. No exceptions. He was  polite, but firm. After I finished listening to Riggs speak, I left the bookstore with a heavy heart. I didn't want to be duplicitous and buy a book I would later return (which someone suggested). I had read my copy, purchased from a different bookseller, and I was being punished.

Booksellers see customer activity differently than the customer does, and I understand the different perspective: why host (and possibly fund) an event when customers do not need to invest in their company to participate? 

Here is why: veni, vidi, emi. 

If I am in your store, I will buy from you, especially if you're supporting authors I read and enjoy. If I don't buy today, I will be back tomorrow, or the next day I am buying a book (which really is tomorrow, for me).

Yes, the siren song of cheap online books is tempting, and I have more than once dashed myself on those rocks. However, I value the services of bookstores and booksellers. If I support the stores that feature materials I like, they will continue to do so — as will I.

I invest in you, Bookseller, so you will do the same for me.

Only that no longer seems to be the case. The "Great Recession" has changed many merchant practices to stock very little and staff lightly. I have begun confirming stock and reserving books before I enter some bookstores. I mean, why bother putting on pants and leaving the house if I will leave a bookstore empty handed?

So, in a world where books aren't stocked unless there is a Good Reason (movie tie-in or author appearance, for example), readers are stuck between a book and a hard place: buy the book now and lose signing opportunities, or buy the book at an author appearance and lose the opportunity to discuss that book with that author.

I now read a store's fine print regarding author appearances. Where once there were no Rules, now there are many.

I will continue to buy my books when and how I please. I will continue to support local, independent and chain bookstores. I will continue to support authors. If, however, a bookstore looks to separate this reader from an author, this reader will reconsider her relationship with said bookstore.

Bookseller, relax: I will give you money. Just don't command me to do so. Trust my bookish wallet, as well as my bookish heart.

On the Horizon: Miss Peregrine's Sequel

I'd ask if you remembered Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, but that's a silly question. Heaven knows I couldn't forget it.

So imagine my delight when I saw this book trailer:

The sequel! Be still my heart!

Oh, don't worry: I pre-ordered it months ago. And I've checked my order twice, just to make sure.

Are you excited, too? What are you reading to get ready? And will you re-read the original in anticipation?

Peculiar, Indeed: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

The cover captured my attention.

The title, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, intrigued me. Above the title was girl in a dress reminiscent of the 1920s, wearing a tiara, possibly hovering above the dirt and stones under her feet.  Hovering? Pecuilar, indeed.

On the back of the novel were more intriguing photos of children: painted like clowns, in a bunny suit, a girl with a reflection of two girls.  Ransom Riggs had some explaining to do.

So, apparently, did Abe, Jacob’s grandfather. Jacob adored his grandfather and believed the stories behind the photos Abe showed him: a skinny boy lifting a boulder above his head, a girl holding a ball of fire, a suit of clothes standing upright without a child in it.  Abe told his grandson all about these children, who were in an orphanage with him when he was a child. Jacob believed him — until he grew old enough to wonder, and doubt.

That all changed when Jacob received a panicked call from his grandfather — a call that divided Jacob’s life into Before and After. Suddenly, that which seemed unreal and fantastic no longer was totally out of the realm of possibility, and Jacob had to find out whether he was losing his mind, or finding his true self.

Riggs creates a taut, brilliant story fraught with peril, wonder, shock, fright and tales too real to be true.  His characters are rich and complex, and they carry the story forward effortlessly. Peppered throughout the book are snapshots that describe that which sometimes defies description.  The book is awash in mystery and amazement: not everything is explained because some things defy explanation. However, some explanations in the book make perfect sense, and readers may find themselves looking at the world differently.

I enjoy books that successfully join images and language, and I can’t believe I waited so many months — and actually returned my library copy — before opening the covers of this book. Shame on me! I understand there will be a sequel, and I will be among the first at the bookstore the day it is released.  I can’t wait.