Mad Panic

So I just got an email telling me that there are almost sixty people registered for the talk that I'm giving on Monday night at the Hershey Public Library. This is great news, by far the best turnout for any event that I've ever done. At the end of the email the librarian casually mentioned that I should make sure to bring plenty of change for selling books -- the library doesn't have very much change on hand.

Wait a minute, I said. I'm the one selling the books? Like, I'm supposed to bring them myself, to sell? In a moment of absolute candor, I asked the librarian how many of those sixty or so people do you think might actually buy a book?

Oh, she said, at least half of them.

It might sound silly, but every signing and talk that I've ever done has either been at a bookstore (where my books are already on hand, sometimes in embarrassing abundance) or at a library working in conjuction with a bookstore, who is there to supply and sell my books. Not once have I actually been in the position of having to bring them and sell them myself. It's just never occurred to me.

After several harried phone conversations with my wife, wherein she climbed up on a chair and counted how many author's copies I had leftover on the top shelf of the closet, I was calling Random House's customer service having the overnight ship two cartons of Eat the Dark and Chasing the Dead to my doorstep. They'll arrive tomorrow morning, in plenty of time for Monday's program.

Now if I can only get that case of small-batch bourbon delivered on time...