When you mock the Gods, the Gods mock you
Nov. 8th, 2009 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pbraySo, seven authors walk into a bookstore, in this case the Barnes & Noble in Ledgewood, New Jersey.
First strike--all of us assumed this B&N would have a cafe. It didn't. It was also freestanding so there was no nearby property where one could dash to grab coffee/soda/bottled water. I shared out the bottled water I had in the car, which was enough for 6 of the 7 of us. Note that on the drive down I'd mocked my OCD tendencies to Joshua, saying that I'd almost stopped to buy a case of water to ensure that I had at least two bottles on hand for everyone, and had forced myself not to do this, reminding myself that they were all adults and it wasn't my responsibility. Needless to say, the next signing, I'm back to being the provisions girl.
On the positive side, the store had numerous copies of all of our titles, and the CRM Dana Dubos had placed us right by the front door. There was prominent signage in the store, she'd had an endcap display of our titles with signage ahead of the event, so everthing was off to a great start. Dana introduced us, and then shortly after the signing began she left, due to family obligations.
Then, sadly, one of us offended the gods. It could be that someone took Laura Anne Gilman's CURSE THE DARK literally. It could have been Anton Strout mocking an industry icon. Whatever the reason, about a half-hour into the signing, the lights flickered and died. A few minutes later, emergency power kicked back in with partial illumination of the store.
All of the cash registers were down. Eventually the store staff received authorization to write up sales by hand and take cash. Those without cash were encouraged to put their books on layaway behind the front desk and return later. Employees were stationed at the front door to warn customers coming in that the cash registers were down so it was cash only, at which point the majority of people simply turned away.
The official explanation we heard was a fire at the nearby Outback Steakhouse restaurant had cut power to the entire shopping plaza and a good chunk of Route 46.
A few hardy souls did venture in the store, and surprisingly we each sold a few books. Some customers had cash but most of our "sales" were layaway purchases.
A couple of hours after the power was lost, the emergency power also went out. Now all we had was the afternoon sunlight coming in the windows. The middle of the store grew dark. Trips to the restroom involved clenching a glowing cell phone between your teeth....
The store manager was planning on closing the store since it was becoming unsafe. I fully expected to see zombies roaming the horror section or find corpses in the mystery stacks. The signing was scheduled to run till 4PM, but around 3:30 PM, knowing they were about to close the store, we began signing stock. Just as we finished signing and stickering everything...
The lights came back on. Full power was restored. Cash registers came back online about ten minutes later, to the joy of the half-dozen or so customers in the store. By this time though, we were ready to leave, so we helpfully restocked endcaps and the science fiction shelves with our newly autographed books, then left.
Originally we'd planned to grab postsigning drinks/dinner, but the adjacent restaurants had all closed to due the power outage. Joshua and I decided to steal Laura Anne, and took her to an Irish place we'd spotted down the road where the food was good, the service on Irish time. Lights periodically flickered, but fortunately remained on, although their credit card processing machines were glitchy which caused significant delays in getting and paying our checks.
Then, having kidnapped Laura Anne, we were obliged to return her to her cats, so we drove into the city and she, trusting soul that she is, showed us where she lived. Maybe. Those buildings all look alike and as soon as we drove off she might well have darted out of the decoy building and headed over to her real lobby.
She'd given us directions on how to pick up I-87, which we did, and then Joshua ("I've had alcohol!") Palmatier navigated me up to NY17, and from there on it was smooth driving. If you don't mind a fairly deserted highway road with more deer than I've seen in years out and about.
Still all's well that ends well. The store staff was beyond gracious and friendly, and if invited, I'd certainly go back for another signing. I'd just bring more water. And a flashlight.
First strike--all of us assumed this B&N would have a cafe. It didn't. It was also freestanding so there was no nearby property where one could dash to grab coffee/soda/bottled water. I shared out the bottled water I had in the car, which was enough for 6 of the 7 of us. Note that on the drive down I'd mocked my OCD tendencies to Joshua, saying that I'd almost stopped to buy a case of water to ensure that I had at least two bottles on hand for everyone, and had forced myself not to do this, reminding myself that they were all adults and it wasn't my responsibility. Needless to say, the next signing, I'm back to being the provisions girl.
On the positive side, the store had numerous copies of all of our titles, and the CRM Dana Dubos had placed us right by the front door. There was prominent signage in the store, she'd had an endcap display of our titles with signage ahead of the event, so everthing was off to a great start. Dana introduced us, and then shortly after the signing began she left, due to family obligations.
Then, sadly, one of us offended the gods. It could be that someone took Laura Anne Gilman's CURSE THE DARK literally. It could have been Anton Strout mocking an industry icon. Whatever the reason, about a half-hour into the signing, the lights flickered and died. A few minutes later, emergency power kicked back in with partial illumination of the store.
All of the cash registers were down. Eventually the store staff received authorization to write up sales by hand and take cash. Those without cash were encouraged to put their books on layaway behind the front desk and return later. Employees were stationed at the front door to warn customers coming in that the cash registers were down so it was cash only, at which point the majority of people simply turned away.
The official explanation we heard was a fire at the nearby Outback Steakhouse restaurant had cut power to the entire shopping plaza and a good chunk of Route 46.
A few hardy souls did venture in the store, and surprisingly we each sold a few books. Some customers had cash but most of our "sales" were layaway purchases.
A couple of hours after the power was lost, the emergency power also went out. Now all we had was the afternoon sunlight coming in the windows. The middle of the store grew dark. Trips to the restroom involved clenching a glowing cell phone between your teeth....
The store manager was planning on closing the store since it was becoming unsafe. I fully expected to see zombies roaming the horror section or find corpses in the mystery stacks. The signing was scheduled to run till 4PM, but around 3:30 PM, knowing they were about to close the store, we began signing stock. Just as we finished signing and stickering everything...
The lights came back on. Full power was restored. Cash registers came back online about ten minutes later, to the joy of the half-dozen or so customers in the store. By this time though, we were ready to leave, so we helpfully restocked endcaps and the science fiction shelves with our newly autographed books, then left.
Originally we'd planned to grab postsigning drinks/dinner, but the adjacent restaurants had all closed to due the power outage. Joshua and I decided to steal Laura Anne, and took her to an Irish place we'd spotted down the road where the food was good, the service on Irish time. Lights periodically flickered, but fortunately remained on, although their credit card processing machines were glitchy which caused significant delays in getting and paying our checks.
Then, having kidnapped Laura Anne, we were obliged to return her to her cats, so we drove into the city and she, trusting soul that she is, showed us where she lived. Maybe. Those buildings all look alike and as soon as we drove off she might well have darted out of the decoy building and headed over to her real lobby.
She'd given us directions on how to pick up I-87, which we did, and then Joshua ("I've had alcohol!") Palmatier navigated me up to NY17, and from there on it was smooth driving. If you don't mind a fairly deserted highway road with more deer than I've seen in years out and about.
Still all's well that ends well. The store staff was beyond gracious and friendly, and if invited, I'd certainly go back for another signing. I'd just bring more water. And a flashlight.
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Date: 2009-11-08 08:27 pm (UTC)