That one customer . . .

It was 4:15 pm on Sunday afternoon at the Irish Book and Music Celebration held at the Irish American Heritage Center in Chicago.  For authors selling books the event was to end at 4:30.  The day had been slow, sold a few books, but met a lot of nice people.

I’ve learned that people like to talk with authors.  They like to have you tell them in a few words what the novel is about.  They ask what inspired the story.  They ask how much research was done to write the story and a myriad of other questions. 

Almost all customers also like to share something of their lives while demonstrating at least a passing interest in buying the book.  Because this event was at the Irish American Heritage Center, every customer had a story about relatives in Ireland in their past or many are still living in Ireland.  Customers like to browse and thoroughly enjoy the variety provided by a group of seventeen authors selling their wares.

The variety available included:  self-help books, historical fiction based on actual family members; young adult books, fairy books, academic books on Irish music, the real life story of father-son cops an Irish grandmother’s real life adventures and general fiction.

On the second day of the event I put copies of a review my book received from a professional reviewer – Inkspots Review.  I noted that people would pick up a copy and read the review rather than pick up the book and read the back of the book blurb.  It proved to me that knowing what another reader thought of the book is more influential than learning about the book yourself when making a decision to buy.

The last customer didn’t do any of these things.  She looked at the poster of the front book cover and asked where it took place.  “The protagonist, Ian Murphy, lives in Cork” I said.

“Where in Cork?”  She asked.

“Cork City.”  I said.

“Well, you know Cork is the name the County too.  It’s a big county.”

“Yes, it’s a big county.”  I responded.  I couldn’t tell where this conversation was going.  “He lives in West Cork.”  I offered.

“What street?”  She asked.

I couldn’t remember.  That’s the sort of thing an author should remember.  I was tired enough and in shock over the cross examination, I couldn’t remember.  I thought I should be honest.  “Well, at this moment I don’t recall, but I took the time to research the geography on Google maps, it’s an area were an author’s cottage could be.”

She picked up the book and looked at it.  “Well, how long are you going to be here?”

“Until 4:30.”

“Ok, I might be back.”

Of course, she never came back.  I failed her test.  In all the events I’ve attended this year I’ve never had a customer cross examine me on some detail of the book.  I suppose she was testing me, to see if I knew my stuff.  What I don’t understand was how that made any difference to the story.  She wasn’t interested in the story; I think she was interested in quizzing me.

Later that evening I thought if I had had my wits about me I should have responded, it’s a fiction.  He lives on a fictional street.  I’m guessing she would have responded, “Oh” and walked away but I’ll never know.