Indulging in writerly neuroses

Saturday afternoon, Sarah, Kyle, and I, at my instigation, headed to our local Barnes & Noble. Sarah and I both wanted the new Hold Steady CD, and I wanted to see Slanted Jack in a bookstore. (I hadn't been to one in over a month, possibly a record for me due to vacation and, before that, vacation prep and back injury.) Some bookstore promotions last only a few weeks, and tomorrow will mark three weeks of offical on-sale time for Slanted Jack, so I wanted to be sure to hit the store over the weekend.

Here's how a writer, at least a neurotic one like me, goes to the bookstore when he or she has a new book out:

* Walk to center front table, knowing you won't be on it but circling it slowly just in case a miracle occurred. None did. Vow someday to be there. Realize vow is useless and you can't control sales. Wonder if animal sacrifices might help.

* Go to the new fiction arrivals table. Hurrah! Five copies of Slanted Jack stared up at me. Most books never get even that chance, so I feel blessed. Do little dance inside. Tidy up copies. Consider covering all the books on the table with them, but then regain senses.

* Go to the new SF bookshelf. Hurrah again! Three copies here, and they're faced out. Consider spreading them out to take up more space, but stop when young child looks at you as if you're crazy. Realize you are.

* Go to the V's in the SF-by-author bookshelves. Hurrah for the last time! Two more copies, also faced out. Three paperbacks of One Jump Ahead were also there, but not faced out. I quickly fixed that--and there was enough room that I didn't have to hurt anyone else's books. (Sarah has trained all her friends to do the same; bless them.)

* Hmmm, what else could one do? I know: Go to the information stand and offer to sign them all. I did, they accepted the offer (and claimed the "Autographed Copy" stickers do help sales), and I signed away.

Life in a bookstore is much simpler when you're not a writer.