Order yours from One Horse Shy.  (Click on the photo above…)

Halloween’s a-coming and this year I am stumped. I’d appreciate hearing any costume suggestions you can cook up, especially those that are book-related!

The sartorial plan this season had been that Gareth and I would go to our friends’ Halloween party together as the subjects of Grant Wood’s famous painting American Gothic. But it turns out we cityfolk don’t have easy access to any but Devil-themed pitchforks, which pretty well robs our idea of its linchpin. And so, after a lengthy visit to our favorite vintage clothing and costume shop, our Gothic duo disbanded, leaving each of us to do our own thing.

Because I typically give my costume a second whirl at work on Halloween day this separation is probably for the best.  (I couldn’t exactly have dragged Gareth to work with me, solely for the purposes of rounding out our portrait.) Nevertheless, it leaves me scrambling to find something by next Saturday, and preferably something that I’ll recall with as much fondness as the costumes I’ve created in years past. My best = Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedron’s starring role) from Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds; Nancy Drew (created using the same outfit I wore as Melanie Daniels); an anti-social butterfly (I hastily painted "I Hate People" on a black t-shirt and found it worked perfectly with my black antennae and monarch wings); a subtly sinister tooth fairy (pink dress, cute wings, chocolate coins and pliers); and Stevie Wonder Woman (Wonder Woman with big hair, dark glasses, and a lot more soul).

This year I’m turning back to books for inspiration, as I’m finding it nowhere else. Captain Underpants is an entertaining option, but Lorna’s already done that justice at our store, and I wouldn’t try to compete. We both keep saying we’ll take inspiration from the wonderful Stuart’s Cape by Sara Pennypacker — staple many neckties together, add one purple sock for a pocket, and you’ll have the perfect cape — but outside our bookstore I don’t think many will get the reference. The Scarlet Letter? I’ve seen it done, and it’s kinda funny but… Not quite what I’m looking for. Bandying about options this morning I thought I might roll two into one and become Ophelia Earheart (Renaissance-inspired dress, aviator cap and goggles) but…  Too silly, perhaps? I don’t know.

Right now I’m leaning towards Gulliver — blousy shirt, cropped pants, black boots, a tricorn hat, and lots of tiny plastic men dangling from strings. Why I’m hesitant to commit to this one: the tricorn hats I saw this morning were pricier than I’d like, and I don’t yet have a source for cheap little men. (Don’t you love the sound of that sentence?)

So… Anyone got any inspiration for me? Any tiny action figures? How about a free pitchfork, with postage? Send ’em my way!

(STOP! Before you read this post, please read "Starting Over from Scratch (A Correction)," which I posted on 10/30 to correct some of the information contained below.)

I was going through a publisher’s catalog a few weeks ago with one of our sales reps, when the discussion turned to a title on the spring list that will feature—yes, it’s true—a scented dust jacket. A scented dust jacket. The book in question is a novel largely set in a coffee shop, and the dust jacket will smell like coffee. I kid you not.

While I was rolling my eyes at this nasally invasive marketing scheme, Lorna—who buys our "grown-up books" at the desk right next to mine and had overheard the whole conversation—jumped in with, "I’m sorry, but I think scented book covers are a true sign of the Apocalypse." I get the giggles every time I think about that remark. Plague of locusts or scented book covers?

While it’s probably hyperbole to put odoriferous dust jackets on par with, say, famine and pestilence, I do agree that this is going too far. Can you imagine what bookstores will smell like if other publishers decide to follow this lead, adding whiffs to their wares? For us booksellers it’ll be like working in a pack of Mr. Sketch markers or the headquarters of Yankee Candle. Having colored with the former and visited the latter I can tell you that my nose couldn’t spend 8+ hours/day with either. Yankee Candle proudly refers to its South Deerfield, Mass., location as the "The Scenter of New England," and I’d prefer we didn’t rival them for that distinction.

I do find it funny, though, to imagine what scents one might apply to specific novels or (why stop there?) works of non-fiction. Of course books with an edible angle lend themselves to some obvious odors: The Lemonade War by Jacqueline Davies, for example, or Sharon Creech‘s Granny Torrelli Makes Soup. But it’s much more entertaining to think of less obvious flights of fragrance. The Eyes of the Amaryllis by Natalie Babbitt could smell like the ocean, for example. And Looking for Alaska = cigarette smoke. (Mom: "Have you been smoking again??" Teenager: "No, just reading John Green‘s first novel.") Other suggestions?

There’s a reason I can associate these books with particular scents, though, that’s got absolutely nothing to do with their dust jackets—the writing in these books brought their settings to life. Their authors successfully followed that old "show, don’t tell" adage, which I suppose could also be restated as "tell, don’t smell."

If I’d written a novel that was largely set in a coffee shop and my publisher wanted to put a coffee-scented jacket on it, frankly, I’d be a bit insulted. While I’m sure this publisher’s very savvy marketing team never intended to suggest that their soon-to-be-scented book has any shortcomings, I can’t help but wonder whether scenting this book is giving it something it doesn’t have or forcing it to do double duty. After all, if the writing in this book is up to snuff, it oughtn’t need any help with setting the scene for its readers.

What do you think? Am I wrong? And if not, where do we draw the line? Vibrating YA novels, perhaps?

After a brief hiatus, my teenage sidekick, Katrina Van Amsterdam, is back with a new review for ShelfTalker readers, and a new job at Wellesley Booksmith!  After several years of grooming her for the job, we’ve now hired Katrina as a bookseller at our store, and are pleased (but not surprised) to report that she’s a natural at it. Newly 17 (Happy birthday, Katrina!), she’s also newly enamored of Jake Wizner’s Spanking Shakespeare, as you’ll see from her review below.

Spanking Shakespeare
by Jake Wizner (Random House Books for Young Readers, September 2007)

Have you ever realized how hilarious it is to be a socially challenged boy? I certainly didn’t… at least, not until I read Spanking Shakespeare. Jake Wizner’s brilliant debut novel details the high school escapades of Shakespeare Shapiro, a high school senior whose primary goal in life is to get a girlfriend. Or get some action… whichever comes first. His one claim to fame is his writing ability, which is put to good use as he writes a comical memoir for his senior project. Wizner chronicles Shakespeare’s last year of high school with such skill that he sent me into gales of laughter. Spanking Shakespeare has rocketed to the top of the list of my all-time favorite books, and I have no doubt in my mind that Shakespeare Shapiro will win a place in the hearts of all who read it.

*****

Alison again: Whether or not you’ve already read Spanking Shakespeare, you might enjoy playing with the Spanking Shakespeare Obituary Generator Random House has created to promote the book. My first attempted yielded the following results:

World-renowned writer/artist/traveler Alison died today in a hospital in Harrisburg. Doctors are still unsure of what exactly caused the death, but believe it was due to complications after Alison harangued too fast and suffered pains in her earlobe. She was 4 years old.

Alison was a exquisite person, who enjoyed everything about life. She was known for her passion for freshly baked bread, which she often ate 42 times a day. She loved to share freshly baked bread with everyone, and would even offer freshly baked bread to strangers. Alison also enjoyed traveling, especially to historical landmarks, and loved meeting people around the world. On her trip to Johannesburg she even met the president (and yes, she offered him freshly baked bread). After meeting him, Alison said the President was blushing.

Alison is survived by her partner Gareth, their 16 children, and their pet quetzal named Resplendent.

(When I asked Gareth how he’d feel about having 16 children he said, "As long as we can have 4 maids." He later revised that, saying, "The question is really how YOU feel about having 16 children!" I shuddered in answer.)

As for Jake Wizner’s relationship to other children’s authors, get a load of this bit, excerpted from his bio:

I went to Wesleyan University, and it was in one of my English classes that I made my first serious attempt at writing fiction. I was immensely proud of the piece I had submitted and remember smiling confidently at the student next to me as our professor returned our work. He got an A. I got a B-. After college, he dubbed himself Lemony Snicket and became the second most famous children’s book author in the world. I moved to New Orleans to teach public school, dubbed myself the Phantom Bard, and chronicled my experiences in the local Teach for America newsletter.

Okay, booksellers AND librarians — weigh in on this discussion, would you? I’ve been having an interesting e-mail conversation this week with Elizabeth Vaccaro, the Media Specialist at Hillside Elementary School in Needham, Mass. Here’s the pared-down progress of our exchange so far:

Elizabeth: I wish I had been able to hear Steve Jenkins [when he visited Wellesley Bookstore on Sept. 29th]. He’s one of the best authors for those many children who only want non-fiction.

Me: What books do your devoted non-fiction readers seem the most drawn to? Any types of books or subjects in particular? I’m forever trying to get our non-fiction sales to pick up a bit but find that most browsers (apart from teachers and librarians) just skip the non-fiction section entirely, which is sad.

Elizabeth: How interesting because non-fiction is my biggest area of circulation. I have a hard time getting children to choose fiction, and I even have to legislate "at least one from the fiction side." This is particularly true among second grade boys and less able readers of all grades. Jon Scieszka writes about how boys read, and while the boys I’ve asked disagree with some of his points (some really like to lose themselves in books, for example), I see a lot of boys prefer the perusing, fact-finding type of reading.

Pet books of all types are the most popular. Sports books, especially of favorite teams, animal books. The kids like photographs and enough text to tell them something, not just one or two lines of information. (They consider those baby books here.)

Maybe they are popular at school because they aren’t allowed to buy these types of books?

I was particularly intrigued by Elizabeth’s final question, so when Lisa Rogers of Hardy Elementary School in Wellesley stopped by the store yesterday afternoon I asked for her observations. Are the students at her school flocking to the library’s non-fiction section? NO, was Lisa’s emphatic answer. It seems the Hardy students, like most of our store’s young customers, are moths to the fiction flame.

Hmmm… Is this a Needham/Wellesley dividing line? Does our store need to move one town over to talk more families into owning biographies and nature books? I suspect the answer’s not anywhere near that simple, but I’d love to hear some others weigh in with their experiences.

What’s hotter with the young browsers in your store or library, fiction or non-fiction? And have you got any theories as to WHY? If so, Elizabeth, Lisa, and I would love to hear them!

Last weekend Gareth and I watched Hayao Miyazaki’s animated film Castle in the Sky and suddenly Sara Varon’s Robot Dreams had even more meaning for me. Gareth owns all of Miyazaki’s films, but given our limited movie-watching time I’ve been slow to work my way through the canon. Color me clueless, then, that one of my favorite graphic novels of the year includes several clever nods to this movie — the most obvious being that Varon’s robot borrows Castle in the Sky from the library and watches it; the most important being that her robot bears a striking similarity to those of Miyazaki’s creation (though he’s considerably smaller).

By now most of you have probably seen or at least heard about Robot Dreams, the wordless graphic novel about two friends, a dog and a robot, who are seperated when a terrible thing comes between them — rust. (You can read an excerpt on the First Second website if you haven’t yet experienced this book for yourself.) Crisp color, beautiful brushwork, wonderful details, and quirky characters — these are the Varon trademarks and the reason she’s currently charming the socks off readers aged 8 to 80.

Most of the book world began discovering Sara’s visual charms with the publication last year of her picture book Chicken and Cat. A lucky few of us, though, are the proud owners of her earlier graphic novel Sweaterweather, which is now sadly out of print. I urge you to go in search of a copy at your favorite source for out of print books, as it’s a doozy of a graphic novel, and a fitting choice, timing-wise, for those of us heading into sweater weather right about now.

Sara has kindly given you the chance to preview the book by posting three of its short comic stories on her website. Learn about the dangers of smoking (for snowmen) from the book’s winter comic. Catch a character reading Bitch magazine in alphabet sandwiches. And be sure to introduce all the turtle-loving knitters in your life to the turtle comic.  There are also a few pages available on an old comicon.com interview with Sara.

If you’re charmed by Varon’s work and looking for something with a similar simplicity and sweetness (but considerably more text), I’d recommend trying Good-bye, Chunky Rice by Craig Thompson. After you’ve fallen in love with Craig’s work (be sure to read Blankets) you can join me in my eager anticipation of his long-awaited graphic novel Habibi. Every now and then Craig posts a few pages from the book (which he now says is likely to be released in 2009) on his blog.

Yesterday morning I thought I’d just glance at the first couple pages of Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules before I ate breakfast. An hour later I’d finished the book and was feeling woozy, proof that I probably should have been reading and eating at the same time. (If only books could feed more than just the mind and the soul…)

Obviously, though, the correct conclusion to be reached here is that the sequel to the bestselling Diary of a Wimpy Kid is indeed a worthy follow-up. In fact, I think I laughed even harder reading this one. Gareth was working on his computer in a different room at the time, with no idea what I was doing. By the time I’d reached page 30 (an absolute winner of a page) I was guffawing so loudly that he had to see what all the fuss was about. Once he realized the cause of my laughter, of course, he didn’t want me to ruin the fun for him, so I wasn’t allowed to tell him much. For the same reason, I won’t tell you much either.

I will say, though, that it’s such ridiculous fun to read books narrated by a complete idiot. No, really! It’s Greg Heffley’s total conviction that he’s right about everything when in fact he’s 100% clueless that make these books so wickedly entertaining. You hear Greg say X but his cartoons show you Y. Most of the time I don’t derive much pleasure from laughing at people’s stupidity, but if the people in question appear on the printed page AND are middle school students (in the prime stupidity of life), I’ve got two reasons to be so motivated.

Don’t get me wrong, I love middle school students. Or at least I love most of them, most of the time. But they do make themselves pretty easy targets for ridicule from those of us who’ve already been through that awkward, trying-on-a-different-personality-every-day, loud-all-the-time-and-don’t-realize-it, completely-distracted-by-your-peers stage of of life. I worked for three amazing, eye-opening summers at a very reputable enrichment program for "gifted and talented" kids ages 12–16 and during that time had PLENTY of opportunities to shake my head at the naiveté of almost all kids in this developmental stage, even the brightest of them. Our program staff actually had an acronym we used amongst ourselves when referring to the clueless antics of our charges—G.M.A., which stood for Gifted, My A**.

In the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, Greg Heffley doesn’t exactly qualify as academically gifted, but he clearly thinks he’s socially gifted, which is why it’s so easy to read these books while shaking with laughter and thinking, "G.M.A.!" on every page. What I love and find encouraging, though, is that even kids who are Greg’s age can read these books and have the same basic reaction (minus the acronym). The kids who find these books funny (which seems to be all of them) are the same kids who are seeing that Greg is often cruel, is usually clueless, and almost always gets his comeuppance. Maybe after watching Greg tread those paths before them they’ll be slightly disinclined to follow in his cruel and clueless footsteps. Or perhaps they’ll just be more inclined to read, write, draw, laugh at themselves. Whatever the results, I consider these books an absolute win, and I can’t wait to turn kids on to this new one!

Not that they’ll need my help finding it. In my nine years of bookselling, I have NEVER seen a book sell itself as well as Diary of a Wimpy Kid. NEVER. Not even close. Each kid who sees the cover and reads the title picks this book up, carries it to their parents and (often without even looking inside) says, "I want this one." No joke. It’s remarkable. We’ve sold 171 copies since it first came out in April. Normally I’d credit that kind of success to our staff handselling the book, my shelf-talker singing its praises, and the fact that we included it on our store’s list of summer reading recommendations. In this case, though, I’d wager that most of those sales were the direct result of a great cover, a great title, a great concept and (most importantly) a great book. My hat’s off to Jeff Kinney and Amulet Books (part of Harry N. Abrams) for those accomplishments.

To see how eagerly kids are anticipating Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules, see how they responded to the book’s announcement on Jeff Kinney’s blog. ZOO-WEE MAMA!

Last Saturday we had about 40 people (about an even mix of kids and adults) at our event with Steve Jenkins. I can say from experience that 40 people is a more than a reasonable-sized crowd for just about any author event (especially one on a beautiful, sunny Saturday), but I confess that I was hoping for more people, because Steve and his books deserve a much larger crowd and deserve to be much more widely known.

I’ve talked with a few people about why it is that Steve Jenkins’ name is not yet a household name, despite its having graced the cover of more than 30 books, one of them (What Do You Do with a Tail Like This?, a book he collaborated on with his wife Robin Page) a Caldecott Honor recipient. The general consensus is that the trouble is non-fiction. If you stick with non-fiction (especially non-fiction about non-humans) in most cases you create no identifiable characters with whom the general public begins to associate you — no Madelines or Olivias or Fireman Smalls. Even working in a illustration style as recognizable as Steve’s doesn’t mean that people will seek you out or remember your name or follow your career, which is unfortunate.

It’s certainly true that a lot of teachers and librarians do know Steve’s name. But your general bookstore shopper probably buys less non-fiction, so they’re less likely to know Steve’s books, and therefore more likely to miss out on an array of titles that might very well have equal appeal to each member of their family. Just as the natural world has no age limitations, neither do facts about the natural world, at least not when they’re presented in a way that’s as straightforward as this, or illustrated in ways that are so visually striking.

In all of Steve’s books he manages to include surprising and intriguing facts about the earth’s creatures. A mother in the crowd at our event mentioned that her family had been reading What Do You Do with a Tail Like This? aloud every night for the past week, because her kids were so fascinated by the things they were learning.

One of my favorite non-fiction books to hand-sell is Steve’s book Actual Size, which shows various creatures (or parts of creatures) true to scale. I’ve yet to put this book in the hands of a child or adult who wasn’t wowed by the giant squid’s eyeball that barely fits on a full double-page spread, or cringe (amazed) at the 12-inch span of a Goliath birdeater tarantula.

Steve is currently touring to promote his newest book, Living Color (Houghton Mifflin), which is a visual feast, glowing with (what else?) color. In the book, a vast array of species are linked according to their common hues, like the two in the illustration Steve’s holding below. That’s a baby crow and a white uakaris monkey, both displaying shades of red. Steve explains that in the crow’s case, red says: "Put the food right here." In the case of the uakaris it sends a different message: "I’m the boss."

Fashioned from cut and torn paper, Steve’s illustrations are clean and crisp but rich with detail. He captures differing contours, patterns, and textures by using different textures types of paper, many of which he showed during his presentation. It was so interesting to note how he has sometimes used the same sheet of paper to create the hide of one animal here, the horn of another there.

Amazing to think that  just by layering pieces of paper one could create something that looks real and feathered enough to lift right off the page, like the bird below, or non-fiction books appealing enough to fly right off the shelves (so long as you can get people to browse your non-fiction section in the first place).

The past week has been a whirlwind of activity at the bookstore, what with our scheduling events, running events, ordering books, meeting with sales reps, trying to hammer out our choices for this year’s list of holiday gift recommendations, AND… attending the annual New England Independent Booksellers Association fall trade show, which was this past Thursday – Saturday. I always enjoy attending NEIBA, primarily for the same reason I enjoy attending BEA, which is that it’s rejuvenating to be around my fellow booksellers, hear what they’re doing in their stores, and soak up their creative ideas and suggestions.

This year I was asked to sit on a NEIBA panel with the theme "Connecting with Schools and Libraries" and feel it’s not bragging to say that the panel was a great success. I’m judging this based on the fact that I took notes on pretty much everyone’s remarks but my own! You know you’re on a good panel when you, a panelist, have a lot to say on the topic but find you learn a great deal from the others seated with you, as well as those in the audience. I definitely learned a few tips or tricks this year and would wager that almost everyone in our packed room went home on Thursday feeling the same way. Huzzah!

After the panel I helped set up for the New England Independent Children’s Booksellers Advisory Council dinner, which is always one of my favorite evenings of the year. This was a year in which I think our dinner speakers balanced one another out nicely, making the evening pass quickly and making me wish I’d somehow captured every minute of it for you and could post it here as a nifty little podcast. Alas, as the technology I had on hand was of the "pen and paper" variety, you’ll just have to use your imaginations.

The first of our dinner speakers were the dynamic and perfecly-paired duo of Helen Lester and Lynn Munsinger. Helen began by talking about how her experiences as a second-grade teacher shaped the many characters and stories that now appear in her books. Though she’s not teaching these days, she visits about 60 schools/year, no doubt adding to the material she’s got to work with. Her big message to kids is that "Authors don’t know what they’re doing, either." Lynn then took the podium and the projector, showing us delightful sketches of animals in various stages of dress and undress, giving us a sense of how she creates her characters. She apparently sometimes has friends come over to pose for her, but they aren’t always prepared for the fact that she’ll draw them as, say, a hippo — not your typical portraiture, to be sure.

Jerry Spinelli was next in line for our attention, and he honestly had most of us laughing until our faces hurt, just by reading the copious mail he receives from both his admirers and his detractors. (It helps that he does excellent kid voices, mimicking the authors of these letters perfectly.) One of my favorite quotes: "I really think your book deserved an award, but apparently no one else did."

The third author to take the podium was the always eloquent Natalie Babbitt, who I had the great pleasure of sitting with during dinner. Natalie was full of praise for Michael di Capua, who has been her (only) editor for the past 40 years. (The only author or illustrator who has been with him longer is Maurice Sendak.) She spoke honestly about the fact that, if you care about it, writing doesn’t get easier with time and experience. "If anything," she said, "it gets even harder." (Chagrined note to self…)

Friday at NEIBA, my own focus was on making the trade show rounds, refreshing my memory of the titles I’ve bought for what’s left of the fall season, and chatting amiably with our many wonderful sales reps. I was thrilled to be able to pick up a signed copy of Susan Milord’s lovely picture book Pebble, a couple more galleys of The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie, a finished copy of Robot Dreams by Sara Varon (whom I’ll be posting about later this week), the galley for Meg Rosoff’s forthcoming adult novel What I Was (not to be confused with How I Live Now), and a galley for The Blue Star by Tony Earley, the long-awaited sequel to one of my favorite adult/YA cross-over novels, Jim the Boy. As they do every other year, Houghton Mifflin Children’s Books sponsored a wonderful luncheon featuring a number of great New England authors, and a couple non-New-Englanders as well, Steve Jenkins among them. Why mention Steve Jenkins? Because we hosted a great event with him on Saturday at the Wellesley Free Library. Read my next post for the details.

Last week I posed the question of whether or not my ability to recall the details of a book’s plot details should somehow influence my review of said book, and several of you remarked that, yes, indeed, a story’s staying power is somehow indicative of its quality. Whether or not that’s the case, as a bookseller who has to be able to conjure up snappy, quick, on-the-spot reviews for customers on a daily basis, I can say that the books with the best "staying power" are the ones that probably fare the best on the hand-selling front. The better I can recall their details, the better I can describe them to others… usually.

The thorny bit here is that there are always books that I love and that really have "stayed with me," but which I nevertheless find difficult to describe to others in a way that sounds sufficiently enticing. There are a lot of wonderful books that just sound… boring or exceedingly odd, plot-wise, when you try to describe them to other people, or at least to young people. A grown-up might very well be won over by your descriptions of their fine writing, but many kids have a harder time being wooed solely by literary merits.

One of these books for me is The Book of Everything by Guus Kuijer. Its length works against it, complicating matters, as the book is quite short for the audience I think it most appropriate for ages 12 and up. I have the hardest time telling people what this book is about without them looking at me cross-eyed or dismissing it outright because they don’t like the cover or the thickness of the volume or the fact that the main character has conversations with Jesus. (I’d be hardwon on those details, too, actually.) Selling this book is a true trust exercise — customers who know me and trust my recommendations may be talked into buying it, but others? Forget it.

Sometimes, too, I find it hard to sufficiently condense a book’s plot into a "sound bite-sized" package, making my descriptions feel overly cumbersome. Try to describe The Golden Compass in under two minutes, for example. I’ve managed to cut my description down to something that will usually win someone over, but I still find it hard to do so succinctly, in part because it’s a book that leaves you with so much to say. I had similar problems at first with Listening for Lions by Gloria Whelan, which has three times as much plot as it does pages, a feat that works beautifully in this book. Try to explain how the story begins here, moves there, then advances to another place, though, and you may notice a less-attentive audience shifting their weight with impatience. (Hence the reason my shelf talker explains it, in part, as Out of Africa meets Annie meets The Secret Garden. It insults the book a bit, I think, to imply that it might be derivitive, but it seems to tell customers plenty and we’ve since had no trouble selling the book.)

Is there a book you find it especially hard to convince other people to try reading? Have you discovered the perfect handle or an ideal hook? At our store we each learn the best tricks by eavesdropping on one another’s hand-selling efforts. Give all of us a chance to eavesdrop on your efforts here, and maybe it’ll help us work some magic with those hard-to-sell books.