So what’s it like to work in a bookstore? Do I spend my days reading, pausing only to answer questions for evil customers with the audacity to also like books? Do I wander, ghostlike, through the aisles, seeking my next favourite book? Do I spend all my time organising and reorganising the shelves into a Perfect Aesthetic? Do I, in short, Never Have to Really Work?
My dad owns a secondhand bookstore housed in an old country schoolhouse from the 1860s. It’s absolutely chock full of books. The aisles are narrow so as to fit more shelves on the relatively small floorspace, and they’re narrower still thanks to the overflow of books stacked on the floor. Light streams between the aisles from the high church-style windows, and in the winter, the gas fireplace flickers away. All this to say, it doesn’t surprise me when customers say to me, “It must be so wonderful to work here!” I do love it. My work days include elements of all the scenarios described above, but there’s also a lot of nitty-gritty behind-the-scenes stuff that you might not think of. And so, without further ado, allow me to guide you through a Typical Day in My Life!
Right off the bat every morning, I go through the aisles straightening books, aka “facing the shelves”. It is utterly incredible how much books can get messed up in a single day. Sometimes I can’t help wondering how a customer managed to get a book into the hilariously odd position I find it in. In any case, I neaten them. On really good days, I discover that a shelf has been emptied out enough for me to fill it up with books from the stacks on the floor. I love this part (I don’t know why). It’s highly satisfying – especially when I manage to clear an entire stack off the floor.
(When I went back to university last fall, customers started mentioning to my dad that there were more books piling up on the floor again…)
By the time I’ve faced all the shelves and, sometimes, swept the floor or dusted cobwebs, it’s around 11am, opening time. I unlock the door, put up the Open signs, and retire to the desk in the back, devoutly hoping that no one will come in so I don’t have to talk to them. (I’m always conflicted, though, since what use is a store if no one ever buys anything? I’m not certain how to reconcile this with my introvertedness.)
This is the least favourite part of my day, and not only because I might be required to talk to someone. It is also the part where I have to start inputting: that is, cataloguing books for the online sales catalogue. I dread this process, which is unfortunately the majority of what I do on a day-to-day basis. I find a box (or fifty) of newly-arrived books, and the first step is pricing them (unless I’m lucky and Dad has priced them already). I do this by gauging the condition of the book and comparing pricing with other online booksellers.
Oh look! A customer has entered. The prospect of interacting with other humans has become vastly more palatable after an hour of tedious pricing and cataloguing. I greet them and ask if I can help them find anything. Most of the time, their answer is no. They were just driving by (our shop is on a major route into the city) and stopped in to browse. Others are regular customers and know where to find what they’re looking for. The odd one out will be looking for something specific, but the vast majority are low-maintenance.
Some of them are characters, though! One time we were visited by a very sweet lady who, however, had the superpower of Talking a Very Great Deal. She described her hobby to me in great detail. About forty-five minutes into this conversation, another customer happened to overhear what she was talking about. He was also interested in the subject and innocently joined the conversation, little knowing what his fate was to be. I lost no time in cleverly extracting myself from the conversation now that she had someone who actually knew what he was talking about, but the poor man was caught for the next forty-five minutes or more.
(Comment below if this was selfish of me.)
(But I had to keep working.)
Having dealt with the intruders customers, I return to the computer. As if trying to pick the perfect price, neither too low nor too high, wasn’t stressful enough, cataloguing is also a rather stressful process. I begin by listing title, author, publisher, and date. Simple stuff, but then I have to Describe the Book Itself. A lot of the books we sell are older, so usually they’re not in pristine condition, and I have to describe the flaws. There’s a lot of technical language specifically for describing books, and I’ve picked up quite a bit over the years, but the odd book will always have some weird flaw that I’ve never seen before and don’t know how to describe. These are my moments to shine, i.e. come up with some (pretentious?) phrase that sounds like I know what I’m talking about. Mostly this part just stresses me out because, like pricing, you have to hit that perfect balance, this time between over-describing (so it sounds like a poor copy and no one will buy it) and under-describing (so they’re upset when they get it and it’s not as perfect as they expected). Very Stressful.
Later in the day, I deal with the orders that come in online. I enjoy processing these orders, so I try to beat my mum to it every day. I find the book in question – it might be on the shelves out front, or it might be stored in a box in the storage room. I know where to look because of the book’s ID number, which is a number we give each book that includes a letter code to mark its location. Once (if) I find the book (sometimes it’s already been sold in the shop and we forgot to mark it sold online), I confirm the order and print the packing slip. Finally, I stack all the books for my dad to package and drop off at the post office. Once this is done, I go back to cataloguing or cleaning for the last hour or so.
At 5pm it is my Favourite Part of the Day: closing time. I lock the door, take down all the Open signs, and turn off the light. I upload the newly catalogued books to the online system, and then I Go Home.
So I hope this wasn’t too boring! I just thought I’d put it out there to give all my fellow bookworms a glimpse into my job. (I should maybe add a disclaimer to the effect of “I do really love working here!”) Let me know in the comments if you’ve ever worked in a bookstore and how your experience compares to mine! If you haven’t, do you want to someday? Would you rather work in a secondhand store like this one or a big one like Chapters?
Benita J. Thompson 