We often think of sensors as warning us of danger, from canaries in coal mines to modern alarm systems. They can also be very helpful, of course, turning lights on for us at opportune times. At a bookstore customers act as wonderfully complex sensors with an almost unlimited range. Last week was a notable one at the store in this regard. Two incidents particularly exemplified the rewards and the perils which can come, on either hand, from receiving the words and actions of our patrons.

As frontlist buyers we are immersed in never-ending speculation as to whether book A will really be a breakout book, or will book B really be a debut sensation, or will book C mark a return to sales form for trending downward author C. Every now and then, however, we literally see dramatic evidence of an author reaching another sales level when a book hits the floor.
That was the case with Maggie Stiefvater’s Raven Cycle series. We had a surge in pre-orders for The Raven King. We had a stream of customers dashing in for the book on the on-sale date. Then there was the moment. A trio of young customers came streaming into the store. One was in the lead and the other two were calling out things like, “Don’t worry, It will be here.” “I know it will.” “I’m telling you it will be here.”  Suddenly there was a shout up ahead. “Yes!” She clutched a copy of The Raven King high into the air and fell to one knee. Then she pounced up and ran to the counter with the book clutched tightly to her stomach. Seeing this, I adroitly keyed in the title manually rather than having her relinquish it for a scan. Safety first.  On the way out one of her friends said, “I told you it would be here.” Her other friend observed, “Now you’re safe. You have the book and you can just read it in your room with no website spoiler danger.” She just nodded, beamed and then they were out the door.
Sure it was a good self-esteem moment, not that any stellar acumen was needed. One didn’t need to be the Raven King to have The Raven King in stock on the sale date, though I had fortunately ordered plenty and was pleased by the confidence of our customer’s support team. Yet most of all it was really nice to see such a vivid example of the special role books and bookstores play in the physical world of being alive and a reader.
The second incident involved an out of store hospice event we were covering the next day at a local hospital. A group of three customers came in looking for copies of Being Mortal, which I had on hand, but not all that many, figuring that most of the attendees would have a copy already. They were very upset because Atul Gawande himself was going to be presenting a keynote. All three of them were very excited to meet him. They were glad to have copies but horrified to think of the widespread disappointment of other attendees.
This was a disaster, of course, but within the realm of probability that it could be true. How could I possibly not been told that salient fact, you wonder. Nonprofits and college departments are not always alive to the glaring need to have books for sale when a big name author is holding forth at a conference. We cover the Visiting Writer’s Series at the local college and have books at every lovely, but small press, poetry reading, in order to sell 2-6 books. The week before Robert Pinsky gave a big talk at the school. No one thought to tell us.
The window to overnight a carton of Being Mortal was tiny. While we scrambled to reach the conference co-ordinator and search online for conference materials I enlisted my MPS pals to get a shipping quote and all that. We only had a few minutes to work with. I decided that $70 for freight was worth it not to allow a debacle. The first conference materials supported the Atul Gawande will really be here position. I was just about to put in the order. At the last moment we got through to the conference co-ordinator, who apologized for the confusion. It was actually going to be a short film of Dr. Gawande speaking. “Perhaps that should have been clearer.” Sigh. “Safety first” cuts both ways.