I have told you before that I have the best job ever.
And I do.
But like all jobs, working at the library has its challenges.
Yes.
Let’s call them “challenges.”
One of those “challenges” is known as the local author.
(Quick side note: no matter the size of the library, every single library has local authors asking for their books to be added to the collection. Every single library has patrons who are total characters, but that’s a story for my future book J )
Now, I don’t want you to think libraries don’t like local authors. We do. What we DON’T like are local authors who are jerks.
This is a story about a jerk.
Not too long ago, a man I had never met before strolled into my office holding a book. I was on the phone, but he plopped down in a chair and stared at me. Seemed a little entitled, but ok. When I got off the phone, I put on my polite voice and asked how I could help him. He said he was a local author and would the library add his book to the collection? Since I was in the middle of ten thousand things at the time, I told him I would take a look at the book and let him know. He gave me his phone number and went on his way. I set the book aside to flip through when I had a spare minute and went back to my busy schedule.
The next day, he was back. He wanted to know: did I look at his book yet? I gritted my teeth and said no, I hadn’t had time yet. I gently reminded him I had his phone number and would call him when I came to a decision.
HE WAS BACK THE NEXT DAY.
Luckily, I had taken a second or two to flip through his book. It was a very thin volume from 2010 about his life and religious experiences. Self-published. (Nothing wrong with self-publishing, but it does eliminate a vetting process.) Not well written. But since he was a local, I was willing to give him a chance.
So I told him we would add it to our collection if he would be willing to donate a copy.
He actually started giggling.
He had left a softcover book for me to review, but he had a hardcover edition in his car – would we rather have that?
Yes, I said. Hardcovers last longer.
Giddy, he went to his car to retrieve the hardcover. When he returned, he offered to sign it. I said sure – address it to the Rock County Community Library. “But – shouldn’t your name go in it?” he said. “NO,” I said, maybe a bit too quickly.
After he had signed the book, he asked about having an event to give away his books. “I had to pay for all these,” he said. Such is the nature of self-publishing. I told him we have had author events in the past, but we are not having any in-person programs until the CDC gives us the go-ahead. However, we could possibly have a book signing later on.
He left, thrilled by the fact his book would soon be on our shelves. I set it on my cart to process later, thinking I was rid of this strange person.
Silly girl.
When I returned from my lunch break the next day, my coworker had a story for me.
This guy had been back AGAIN.
My coworker spotted him peering into my empty office, and she asked if she could help him. He said, “That girl here?”
Immediately put off, she said, “Do you mean the director?”
Upon learning I was at lunch (and seeming perturbed by the fact I didn’t spend my days waiting for him), he seemed stumped by what to do next. My coworker once again asked if she could help him.
His response: “Are you a librarian?”
Her response: “I wouldn’t be behind the desk if I wasn’t.”
If I had been there, I would have high-fived her.
He had a gigantic poster promoting his book as well as a ton of little postcards with his book cover printed on them. He and I had agreed on no such thing – but he insisted they HAD to get to me.
My coworker said she would give them to me.
“Are you SURE you’ll give them to her?” he said.
He was a minor annoyance up until this point. He officially became a problem.
My coworker took the marketing materials to give to me, and yet he lingered. Finally, she again asked if he needed anything else.
“Yes, you could try not to be so rude,” he said – and finally left.
I couldn’t wait to tell him I was rescinding the book signing event offer.
This was a Friday, so I had to wait until Monday.
Sure enough, he came strolling in on Monday.
“Did you get my poster?” he said. “I didn’t know if she’d give them to you.”
“We’re all professionals here,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “And you cannot treat library staff that way.”
He looked at me.
I told him to take his poster and his cards because we do not advertise books for sale.
He said, “Is my book in bookstores?”
I said, “I don’t know.”
Now is a good time to mention that librarians never stop at “I don’t know.” We will follow up by doing the requisite research or directing them to someone who would know (especially in tax season). It’s our job to answer your question, library-related or not.
Unless you’re a jerk.
So after my “I don’t know,” I offered nothing further.
He said, “Look up a bookstore.”
AND THEN HE CAME AROUND TO MY SIDE OF THE DESK AND STOOD INCHES FROM ME.
This is NEVER cool, especially during COVID.
I asked him to back up.
I looked up his book on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, and it was indeed there and for sale. He wanted to know how many copies had sold. I informed him he would have to talk to his publishing company about that.
“Someone stole my book,” he said.
I just stared at him.
Supposedly, some mysterious book thief stole his book and was trying to pass it off as their own.
There was no such evidence of this thievery on Amazon or Barnes and Noble.
His solution to foil this dastardly criminal was to put a different cover image on his book.
“You know ‘footprints in the sand’?” he said.
I am in the habit of never discussing religion with strangers at work (great habit, by the way), so I said no. (I do, in fact, know “footprints in the sand.”)
He said, “Look up ‘footprints in the sand.”
(Pro tip: if you want a librarian to do something for you, the best way to do it is to ask. Not command.)
I did a Google image search, but none of the results were satisfactory. “Look up footprints,” he said. Again, nothing appealed to his discerning eye.
“I have a print of what I want at home,” he said. “I’ll go get it and show it to you.”
I quickly told him that would not be necessary.
He wanted my opinion about whether that would be a good image for the cover versus the current image, which was sort of a headless Jesus in the sky.
“You read the book,” he said.
“No, I didn’t,” I corrected.
Librarians do not sit around and read books all day, as much as that is our dream. I had flipped through his book; nothing more. I told him as such.
Now he offered this dilemma: should we add the book to the collection now, only to have him swap it out for a new cover later? Or should we just wait?
I saw my out and took it.
We’ll wait.
So after all this, if you were looking forward to checking his book out from the library, I regret to inform you (but not really) that it is not on our shelves.
Alas, the library has certainly not seen the last of him. He was in two days later needing help on the computer. He wanted to look up his sales and royalties through his self-publishing account. After many reset passwords, an hour of help in between two librarians, and much wailing and gnashing of teeth, his account revealed to us there have been no sales.
Ever.
Normally I would feel bad for someone whose book has not sold at all in 11 years, but since this guy sucks, I figure it’s karma.
