Miscellaneous

Give Your Customers A Break On The 14th

by

by Jas Faulkner 

cupid-valentines-day1 For those of you playing at home, I got to go to this rilly nifty sooper sekrit cabal of booksellers in Memphis a little while ago.  The main topic on the dias was the untold history of those who are charged with the care and feeding of visiting authors.  Chatter on the floor was all about the next big push: Valentines Day.  Some booksellers love it, especially those who either have a coffee shop or sell candy.  Others?  Not so much.

“Are you single?” asked one store owner from Kentucky.  I told him I was.

“How do I market so that people will come in on and around the 14th?  The month of February seems to be about people making a rare visit to get a gift and everyone else avoiding anything remotely heart-shaped.”

Read more

Fig Leaves and Cappuccino

by

by Jas Faulkner

plain brown cover“How are things?” I asked Sam as I flipped through pictures of Dore engravings.

“Things are great,” said Sam, “Could not be better.  Have I told you my wife is a marketing genius?”

“Do tell.  I take it there’s a good story about to happen.”

Of course there was. And as many of them begin, this one starts with a visit from Taylor Slow.  For whatever reason, she wandered from her usual shelves of choice to the “literature” section, where she found copies of Lolita, The Canterbury Tales, and For Colored Girls… “right out there in the open where any impressionable young person could get hold of ’em!”

“I’m expressing my concern to you directly because I want to give you the chance to address this yourselves.”

“Really?”  Sam, who is one half of the ownership group of the tiny independent book store that not only could but did defy the odds and stay open in their small Mississippi home town glanced up.  She nodded sympathetically and then got back to work because that was what one does when Miss Taylor Slow gets a bee in her bonnet about something.

Read more

The Role of Tracy Flick Will Be Played By Lance Armstrong

by

by Jas Faulkner 

The remaining members of the media who are not getting the vapors over Manti Te’o’s pretend girlfriend are finding true gold in the race to the stygian levels of athletic malfeasance still being run by Lance Armstrong.

Watching Armstrong try to be likeable on Oprah was like watching two komodo dragons reenact every meet cute scene ever written by Nora Ephron.  You just don’t put someone who has been characterized as a bully and a liar and a cheat with an interviewer who was once visibly miffed because a schizophrenic child was less than impressed with the prospect of sitting down for a chat.  The princess force was too strong on that soundstage for either party to come out looking particularly good.

Read more

At The Heart of the Matter

by

vintageheartSo in some TV show, a man grips his left arm, makes some kind of inarticulate grunt, and falls down, dead. No question for the viewer what just happened. The man had a massive heart attack. We all know searing chest and arm pain are the symptoms for attacks that kill or nearly do. Guess what–not always for women. Women usually don’t have the classic heart attack symptoms which is why so many of us die unattended. I have been told over the years that nausea and lightheadedness are signs of a heart attack. Given my age, and my mother’s own angina, which is another way of saying blocked arteries, I am at risk for a heart attack. Oh, hell, everyone who is alive is at risk for an attack, especially those who are not exactly exercise nuts and vegetarians. Anyway, once a few years back i felt so awful I called my doctor, a thing I rarely do. She didn’t like the symptoms and I went to the emergency room. That is, I arrived after my mother had changed into appropriate wear, the dogs were fed, lights left on for them, and keys, and purse were located. In that time frame, a whole football stadium could have died of heart attacks. That’s another factoid I learned–do not wait. Do not hesitate to call an ambulance if you believe you are under siege. (turns out I had some kind of virus never specified) Well, some responders didn’t get the memo on women’s heart health. Last Sunday, I had symptoms that corresponded with those I was told could kill you. Yet, I hesitated. Naturally. Because a woman doesn’t want to look silly, a hypochondriac, an hysteric just because she can’t stand without dizziness, nausea, with pressure below the sternum and aching all over. Thing is–that could be any number of problems. Or, it could be death. What do you do? If pain shot down my arm, I damn well would have yelled attack at the top of my tonsils and the husband would have dialed as fast as an iphone can be dialed, or touched. Not having such a definitive symptom, I quietly tried to keep myself upright while googling female heart attack symptoms, hoping that there would be a really crucial one I didn’t possess, to end my fear and speculation so I could go lie down. Instead I read a doctor’s account of her own disregard for symptoms, and her warning–most women go to bed at night feeling ill, and never get up again.

Read more

Sisterhood of the Traveling Rants: Handlers and Liaisons Speak Out

by

by Jas Faulkner

How would these guys handle Miz Eudora’s requests? (HBO Pictures)

 

I got the email from Sam and Tab shortly before the first of the month:

Can you come to Memphis?  It’s a coven meeting and you’re invited!

Why yes, that is coded speech.  Sam usually sends her invitations to coven gatherings via owl or white mice in a pumpkin.   But seriously, the girls are secretive about their professional gatherings and for good reason.  In the early days of the event, they were sometimes overrun by wannabe writers looking for that magic something that would get them published and readers seeking galleys before their favourite authors’ latest hit the shelves.  The attendees are all booksellers except for the occasional guest from the book trade or an author or a book jacket artist or somesuch person who shares their insight and experience and usually brings some very sweet swag.   In return they get a smallish honorarium and a long weekend at the B and B.

Read more

Gently Used, Unfoxed, And Totemic

by

by Jas Faulkner 

It was one of those finds in the LitCrit section of McKay’s Books that looked like a good cold weather read.  Playing Joan is an anthology of interviews with actress who have played the Shavian heroine over the years.  The book looked like it was nearly new and had never been read.  At $1.50, it was a deal.  Then I noticed there was a name written on the title page.

Before I get into that, I need to make an admission.  I’m one of those people who loves finding old things in books.  By old things, I don’t mean the dessicated corpses of insects or antique Fritos.  I’m talking about postcards, invoices, ticket stubs,  newspaper clippings and class schedules.   They give me a clue about who read this book before it fell into my hands. I’m also a fan of old library book discards.  It makes my shelves feel well-traveled.  

Read more

Just a Little Bone To Pick, Like What Else Is New?

by

I was seated in a nice quiet dark movie theatre waiting for the main feature as the screen filled with cacophonous gunshots, car crashes, screeching people, horrible grotesque creatures, all trailers as they are called now–when I was a mere lassie, we called them coming attractions because, well, that’s what they are. The film may trail at the end of a reel, but the pictures themselves are of movies about to be released. Doesn’t matter, what did was what one of the trailers showcased-a new version of The Great Gatsby. I believe there have been two already–maybe more, one starring my mother’s matinee idol, Alan Ladd, the other starring my generation’s dreamboat, Robert Redford. Each film presents NY in their own way, the latter tries to show a bit grittier world. What I witnessed in the 3 minute promo was complete fantasy. Opulent, over the top, ritzy, decadent behavior with sets that cost more than any one at the time could have possibly afforded to build. With a computer generated city skyline,  showgirls, debauchery, and a florid Leonardo Di Caprio as the iconic Gatsby, I recoiled in my seat as if slapped.

Read more

The Mummer’s Parade

by
South Philadelphia String Band Brigade

Unless you are from around Philly, it’s unlikely you’ve heard of the Mummer’s Parade. If you associate anything with the word mummer, you may think some kind of British ritual, or Mardi Gras performer. For those unlucky enough not to have witnessed the New Year’s Day annual event, I feel sorry for you. The mummers are a unique experience, a combination marching band, mini variety show, and Ziegfeld Follies costumed extravaganza. The lengthy parade begins with what are loosely called Comics–men dressed up in various outfits carrying umbrellas weaving down the street, staggering because they are usually drunk. This is not a part of the parade I enjoy or am proud of, and if ‘tradition’ didn’t exist, the entire thing would disappear like bad booze down the drain. The second part of the parade is the Fancies competition. Whoops, I forgot to mention theparade not only entertains thousands along the Philly streets, but is a competition among distinct ‘brigades’ as they are named. The Fancies are elaborate costumed individuals with live music, but not string bands. Next, and the most popular, are the String Bands. They strut down the street playing banjos and other instruments to a theme–and act out a little storyline for the judges and audience at the designated spot. Their costumes are breathtaking, the choreography amazing, sets astounding, and presentations magnificent. The top string bands can spend hundreds of thousands of dollars for their minutes in the spotlight, and they have to pay for all of it themselves. They hold fundraisers, play at weddings, Fourth of July gatherings, and Atlantic City extravaganzas to raise enough dough to pay costume, set designers, seamstresses, etc.  The prize money, if they are lucky enough to win, doesn’t cover all these expenses.

Read more