Gotta Write

My brother told me this story.  He has a friend who is a published author.  He and this author and another friend were hanging out one night when they found themselves at a bookstore.  They browsed around for a while until the author friend made a beeline for his book.  He then proceeded to find a clerk and lecture the poor guy about how the book wasn’t placed in the right section of the bookstore.  Apparently this author made a pretty big scene, and this poor clerk probably didn’t know what hit him.

I don’t know what section the book was sitting in that enraged the author so much.  It seems to me, though, that if the actual issue was a misplacement of the book it would have been better dealt with by asking to speak to a manager.  It should have been a cordial exchange, quickly remedied and quickly forgotten.

No, I think this guy wanted to make sure that everyone around him knew that this was HIS book and HE was an author and that gave him special privilege to be a jerk because, after all, he wrote a book.  Yeesh.

When/if my novel ever gets published, you might see me standing in the bookstore giggling profusely as I look lovingly at my book on display.  I might even do a few spontaneous happy dances right then and there.  What you won’t find is me getting so full of myself that I think a clerk at a bookstore owes me some sort of reverence. 

Besides, why tick off the very person who might steer people toward your book to buy?

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