My fellow writers and I walked into a ballroom where we were about to spend 10 minutes at each of 6 tables, selling booksellers on selling our books. We were met with applause, which was very touching, though I felt we were the ones who should be clapping: Yay, booksellers!! Thank you for affirming our existence day after day! I popped a Ricola and sat down at my first assigned table. Comparisons to speed-dating had been much-bantered, but I briefly imagined myself as a Hollywood pitch-man, a slightly less desperate version of an Altman character in The Player. My nervousness ebbed, though, as I met my table-mates, who were uniformly open to being seduced by my story. I had thought I would be repeating myself five times, but quickly learned that the personalities at the table determined the tenor of the conversation—this was a dialogue, not a monologue. Some groups preferred that I lead; others jumped in with questions. Some asked about the novel and its origins in my family history; others how to sell it: “What other novels could I compare this to, for my customers?” Some booksellers had heard of The Toss of a Lemon already: they told me the Harcourt rep had selected it as one of his “picks” to talk up at a meeting that morning. It was great to hear one woman say, as I sat down, “Oh, I was hoping you would be at our table!” as well as to hear those I had missed say similar things (with disappointment) when I met them at the book-signing. The dating metaphor is apt, though, in that this was clearly also a chance for them to get to know me: I chatted with some people about my husband, a poet and literary translator, and even, at one point, traded breastfeeding stories! It reminded me again how I enjoy meeting these readers dedicated to serving other readers, with all their attendant curiosity about those who write—a curiosity I, as a reader, know well. I hope I made it clear how open I am to doing this for their book clubs or book stores, in person or by phone. Thank you, SIBA!
