Notes From the Book Trail

Easter is already a passing memory, a blur of plastic eggs, baskets, cooking, birthday celebrations and little boys racing around the football field in post-rain wildness. Reality showed up bright and early Monday morning with big demands and no mercy. By 7 a.m. we were on the road headed toward Cleveland to retrieve the books Eric bought late last week. Our friend’s son helped, which was great – I shudder to think what time we’d have gotten home had he not. The problem is that even though we packed one hundred boxes a quarter of the books require a second trip. The store’s enormous cube van is roomy, but Eric feared we might be exceeding the weight limit, so we stopped at the hundred mark (we also ran out of boxes!). We do, however, deserve straight A’s for efficiency. I packed the boxes, Eric put them on the dolly and took them outside, and Andy hefted them onto the truck. Once we got them home the guys unloaded them into the garage and stacked them neatly against one wall.

Today every muscle in my back keens like a hired mourner at an Irish wake. If I’d had the sense God gave a gnat I would have gone inside and worked on something else when we got home, but did I? Of course I didn’t. Within five minutes of Andy’s departure I was out there rifling through the boxes in search of buried treasure. I wish I could say I found a lot of it, but I didn’t.  As I had guessed and Eric confirmed, most of the books dropped in online value. In fact, had I gone along to see them I may not have bought them, or at least offered less for them. We’ll do okay – it’s not that -- but it’s a lot of work for what it is, despite the fact that the lawyer seems to think we got  the Crown Jewels.

The best book so far is the 1933 signed limited first edition of Ohio Indian Trails by Frank Wilcox which I’ve had  twice before. It sells in the three figure range, but I’m not putting it online this time. Last weekend at the antiques mall I sold that beautiful Ohio book I told you I bought at the book fair, so I’m thinking I might haul the Indian Trails over there too and save some on the commission. As I’ve mentioned at least two billion times, my love affair with online selling has drifted so far south it’s been sighted somewhere off the coast of Georgia.

I did, however, find a lot of stuff for the mall already, which is good, because even with all the books we’ve gotten in here in the last few months my stash isn’t looking all that “stashy” these days. So far I also found eleven titles to list online (see photo below), so that’s good too. As much as I would like to pull the plug on the internet of course I can’t really do it. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

Here’s a jaw-dropping statistic for you though. In the last month I uploaded a grand total of ten books to my various sites – that’s right, TEN books – primarily because of the cold and the book fair. Why I have sold anything at all is anybody’s guess, but it’s certainly been nothing to write home about. So today there’s no choice but to hunker down and do some serious listing. In addition to the new books from yesterday I have quite a lot that I’d been hoarding for the book fair. I actually like to list – it’s what comes with it that I’m not so crazy about. But I’ll make a pot of dark roast coffee and lose myself in the process, which should make for a satisfying day even if I do mutter endless curses at what I see on the screen.

Then come tomorrow morning we’ll hit the road again in search of yet more books. Believe it or not, we have another lead in Cleveland.

The Hair of the Dog and Other Good Things

As I write this a giant snowstorm hangs over Chicago ready to come roaring our way. Actually, I don’t think it will amount to much in Medina, but the problem is that we are headed through western Ohio into Michigan Saturday so we can replay the lost Valentine’s Day with the little guys which, as you may recall, got snowed-out two weeks ago. There’s a chance the storm  will move in today and be out by tomorrow (the wind is howling like a banshee), but at the rate we’re going here the Valentine candy could wind up sharing space with the jelly beans in their Easter baskets.

The good news is I printed out the pages of my novel and there are about a hundred spread out over five chapters all of which I actually like except for chapter one. This is an unexpected good thing except that chapter one is the most crucial, as it’s the first read by an agent or editor. If they aren’t charmed within a couple pages the book is toast, so serious rewriting awaits. The other good news is Judy came to do the article for the newspaper about our business and participation in the book fair. Judy’s an old friend whom I met thirty years ago when she worked at the library. Later we were in a (now defunct) writers’ group together and spent losts of fun times speaking on the Ohio writers’ conference circuit. Yesterday’s questions were not only interesting, but encouraged me to talk about how I feel about bookselling, which is a little corny probably and maybe even embarrassing.  But I’m looking at it this way -- the inquiry came from a poet and will be written by one, so the result may transcend me. The photos, however,  are another story.

Anyway, all the ebay books I complained about in the last post have been dealt with once and for all. I spent a great deal of time giving several a new life and shining up the last ones in the door which were basically good but needing sprucing.  A few I gave to Eric for  the store, and one got sent back to its seller. I even adhered to the old adage about the “hair of the dog” and jumped back into the auction game. I do wonder whether this was wise, but I’ve bought some amazing stuff on ebay in the past and even in the recent past, so I I tried it again. I was on there maybe five minutes when a beautiful four volume hard cover centenary binding of Thomas Moore’s Irish “airs”  had my heart crooning like Bing Crosby. The books glow like emeralds (at least in the picture) and are ornately decorated. But of course time will tell the truth.

Yet another good thing is the book in the photo above which Eric bought for me at the Indianapolis show last weekend. It’s a signed,  numbered 1977 gun book that only had a print run of 1500 copies and is most collectible. In this instance the internet saves the day, as not many Ohioans collect, or even see, too many early California rifles.I knew he got me something, but didn’t know what because he frustratingly enough forgot to bring it home THREE nights in a row. But I nonetheless whirled and twirled at least once to express my pleasure with it last night. If you recall, for awhile there weapons were me, but not so much anymore. One at a time each book  departed and now as I look at that category I realize how few good things are left, which of course makes this book all the more welcome.

Okay, one more good thing and then I have to get back to work. I know you’re not enamored of magazines, but it’s been a magazine bonanza over here this week. I shipped them every single day since Monday, all ordered on ABE. These included six issues (complete run) of American Art Review; twelve issues ( complete run) of Journal of Aeronautical Sciences; two issues of The Spur to one customer; four issues (a complete run) of American Indian Art and one issue of Air Trails for a total of $189.

Just sayin' …

Misery: Day Two

If anyone thinks bookselling is glamorous I would challenge them to join us for Day Two of the misery. Compared to yesterday Sunday was a leisurely stroll through the library of Trinity College, Dublin gazing at the illuminated manuscripts. Not only did we pack and haul sixty cartons of books, but we had actually done forty-five Sunday which I somehow had thought were only twenty. It’s not the manual labor that was the problem – I am really quite strong for a hundred pound weakling with metal in both wrists and have great stamina for stairs. For five hours yesterday I worked like a teamster and am none the worse for wear. My problem was with the highly charged atmosphere in which we labored.

The bath remodeler was there again, as was the sister (who turned out to be very nice). The poor remodeler was on the clock so it certainly wasn’t his fault that he had to block access to the back door most of the day. Why he didn’t have an assistant I don’t know, but he truly had little choice but to press Eric into service again. Even that was okay – Eric can do both demo and plumbing with the best of them in an emergency which is what it rather startlingly became. As with most remodeling projects, removal of fixtures revealed hidden problems which required further work and expense. The remodeler came into the room where I was packing and explained the difficulties to the homeowner. Having done our share of home improvement projects I thought it all sounded pretty par for the course. The homeowner, however, begged to differ. She leaped to her feet (no small feat either considering all the pill bottles lined up next to her) and flew into a rage that colored the air as blue as the Adriatic Sea with a string of creative expletives. It was fairly stunning.

Now imagine that scene in a room with the heat cranked up to at least 75 degrees on a fairly warm day and you will appreciate the perspiration expended by the poor remodeler. Even I, who am notoriously cold, would have bet any profit we make on this that I would very soon melt like candle wax. The remodeler tried again to explain the situation, but gave up abruptly and told her her options. After a second round of histrionics she finally agreed to let him buy the extra parts and finish the job, then promptly got on the phone and ordered enough greasy food to clog the arteries of an army battalion after which she marched out into the kitchen and informed him that if her dog ran out the back door he was DONE.

Just as on Sunday I had deliberately sequestered the books I wanted for online and the mall so they would be easily retrieved, but after that performance I distributed them willy-nilly through the row of open cartons, taped them up, and moved them on out. By the time the food came (the heat in the room and the smell of the grease was enough to knock you dead) I briefly thought maybe death wasn’t such a bad choice given the circumstances. But the grease seemed to revive the reluctant homeowner because after she ate she became inexplicably cheery and sang Eric’s praises to the roof. He was a saint. A saint! (Yes, he is, and his canonization will be held this afternoon at three). By then I didn’t care if she preferred a plague of locusts to us. All I could hear in my head was that old song by The Animals “We gotta get of this place, if it’s the last thing we ever do ….”

And so we did. Eventually. Get out.

And then we went home, collapsed on the couch, and ordered a semi-greasy vegetarian pizza for dinner.

Like A Spring in the Desert ...?

Online sales remain lackluster, BUT things are definitely looking up. Yesterday morning I got a tip from my antiques dealer friend Darwin about a book collection for sale. He only had a name and a phone number -- no details on what it was comprised of -- but Eric immediately recognized the name as a long-time customer whom he’d heard had died. So he made the call and, sure enough, that’s exactly whose books they were. The family didn’t know we sell books, though recognized the name of the store immediately and said we could come over as soon as we wanted. So just after lunch we hopped in the car and an hour and a half later owned a crowded roomful of books, magazines, and paper a la the infamous Elmer from whose estate we bought 35,000 items some years ago. Oddly enough, this guy and Elmer were buying at the exact same time and at the exact same sales and both not only chose the same kinds of items, but in some cases, the exact SAME items! Also, both subscribed to the theory that if you like something buy it whether it’s good, bad, or downright ugly. Which means of course that we have a major job on our hands.

When we left home we had no idea that we would be making an offer on the lot, so we took the PT Cruiser which couldn’t even begin to handle it. All we could do is load up Petey with eight full banker’s boxes with the understanding that we would come back for the rest with the store truck Sunday morning. It turned out to be a win/win for both parties, as they wanted them gone and we have the capacity to handle it all neatly and efficiently because the store is huge -- 10,000 square feet including a warehouse to absorb the overage should there be any. I actually like buying a big messy, confused bunch of stuff because the price per item goes down exponentially due to the fact that it’s impossible to examine it all and there’s enormous work involved. In fact, when I packed the boxes I noticed that many free dust bunnies came with the bargain! Clearly, the books hadn’t been touched in years. Some were shelved and some piled on furniture, but most were leaning starboard on the floor or packed chock-a-block in the two closets. Every last one will require cleaning and in some cases small doable repairs and all the dustjacketed ones will need mylar. So if you need me in the next few weeks I’ll be down the basement!

What will happen of course is that the collection will split three ways – store, antiques mall, and online. There’s also the outside chance that MAYBE it could mean being able to grab the empty booth next to ours. I’m afraid to be too hasty because of course we haven’t even seen all of this stuff and won’t until it’s here. But I have to tell you I’m about ready to duct tape my phone dialing finger to the desk to reduce temptation! .I’ve already been through all the stuff we brought home yesterday (worked on it until midnight last night) and Eric got the preponderance. The mall got the next most and I kept about ten things for online, though I’m in no hurry to get them there. My favorite items include the first nine consecutive bound volumes of The Confederate Veteran magazine – handsomely done facsimiles and the cleanest of everything we brought home; a sleeper book I had a hunch would be good and IS; and a stack of amazing British documents handwritten on vellum and dated from the late 1700’s to the early 1800’s. They're enormous and sport a decorative handcut top and are marked with sealing wax. I have do some studying up on those, but the one pictured below seems to be a land transfer or its equivalent. I apologize for not being able to photograph the entire thing, but it's huge and won't stay open. I also apologize for my knee, but I couldn't position said knee out of the picture and still get the portion with the sealing wax.

As for the the above mentioned book,  I'm going to save it for later because it may end up being a blog in itself due to the fact that not only will it make an interesting post, but is absolutely the most innocuous little tome you ever laid eyes on yet provides us all with a lesson much like the one I expensively learned with Bird Sanctuaries As Golf Clubs. Remember that one? Yeah. Not good. But this time will be different. Before I do a thing I am going to put some serious time into it, first of all to verify the astounding prices online. I'm a bit optimistic though, as  I already know that one of NYC’s most prestigious antiquarian dealers treats his copy like the Crown Jewels. His is better because it’s an association copy in a clamshell box, but his is also many times more expensive than what the other ABAA sellers are asking for their copies which are exactly like mine.

So I guess it looks like my friend Nancy was right. I need to stop thinking doom and gloom, and concentrate on intention. However, at this point the only things that are flowing like her “spring in the desert” are the dollars surging out the door and the unknown books rolling in. Sales? So far, not so much. But call me grateful anyway. It’s been quite a 24 hours.

The Answer Is Yes

The answer to the last question I posed – do the book gods have friends is yes, they do. However, when contacting these friends through an intermediary one must be very specific about one’s wants. And this is precisely where I may have run amok. The good news is I got two chairs for my booth at the antiques mall – matching chairs and beautiful too. But therein lies the problem. They are actually TOO beautiful and too finely made. I got them for a song at $125 each, but I now face several dilemmas. I think they  might be mid-century modern, but I don’t think they were mass produced, but then what do I know?  I cannot discern their designer and/or maker even after looking at hundreds of modern chairs. The quality is exceptional, the design simple and elegant and they may be European, as their previous owner was European and admired all things Italian. But I feel like they’re Asian, perhaps Japanese. I took a photo of them and will be sending it along to Darwin today in hopes that he and his vast design knowledge will come to the rescue.

But even if he does identify them and provide me with an appropriate asking price (which I think could be fairly good) I don’t think they want to go to the mall. Just for fun I stationed them in my formal living room (amazing how there just happened to be two spaces available) and instantly heard a discernible sigh of relief from both – ah, home at last! Of course the merchant in me noted that if I sold one the other one would be free --and then some. But I don’t want them to go. I really don’t want them to go and neither does Eric. So because I failed to lay out distinct parameters for the furniture gods I am right back at square one with no practical chair which means that Cheryl still can’t go to the mall!

However, the merchant in me was very happy yesterday. I am getting over the theft of the bookends, though a woman did email after having seen the original blog post and expressed interest in buying them. But it’s time for that train to leave the station, so I’ve turned my focus to yesterday’s Medina flea market which was exceptionally good. Interestingly enough, I could have confined myself to just a couple aisles and been out of there in a flash, as everything I bought I bought within fifteen minutes from four dealers This has not happened in so many years I can’t even remember the last time it did. I spent $105 and got the following:

Ohio in the War; Her Statesmen, Generals and Soldiers by Whitelaw Reid (two volume facsimile reprints in original shrinkwrap)

The Autobiography of Captain Alexander McDougall edited by Janet Cole Sanborn and published by the Great Lakes Historical Society in 1968. There are no comparables online.

Pine Bluffs, North Carolina 1884-1976 compiled by the Pine Bluffs Historical Committee

The History of Parma (Ohio) by Ernest R. Kubasek, 1976

Dogs by Albert Payson Terhune (a good mall seller at a better price than online)

The Dog Book by Albert Payson Terhune and the great Diana Thorne, widely admired for her artistic renderings of animals (again better selling price at the mall).

Wisdom magazine, 1958 (features Ernest Hemingway on the cover, plus an article by him and an article ABOUT him)

Heart’s Ease, a gift book from 1909 by Philips Brooks who was an Episcopal priest who wrote the lyrics to O Little Town of Bethlehem.

The First Christmas, another gift book, this time by Kate Whiting Patch (undated). Victorian and Edwardian gift books have their own special following and sell for more than you might expect, but not on the traditional book sites. I will not be listing either one there.

Blondie and Dagwood paper dolls, including Alexander and Cookie, all with five outfits apiece, plus accessories. I will probably take them to the mall, but I am going to divide them by character and outfits into four separate clear bags which will be mounted on a LARGE cardboard and heat-sealed in a plastic bag. I have a hunch that these are imminently shopliftable, so even if my methodology bombs the taker will have to work much harder to get them out the door.

Other than the chairs, Saturday's estate sales held little excitement. Two of them had been touted as having “lots of books”, but I bought only two books total, both from the same place as the chairs and neither is worth mentioning. That house did have “lots”, just not especially good ”lots” and the other had SOME, all of which were bad. It’s amazing how “lots” and "some” are synonyms in the world of estate sales!

But now I'm thinking about Black Friday and wondering  whether I could invoke the furniture gods directly and see if maybe I can scare up a piece of furniture, even if it’s not a chair, before then. It seems a bit presumputous seeing as how I am not an antiques dealer and have no intention of becoming one. It's probably against  the rules to transgress unfamilar territory, especially considering my attitude about people selling books who know nothing about books.

But you know what? I think I'm gonna chance it. After all, Eric's dad was an antiques dealer and Eric loves antiques and buys them for the store. That should count for SOMETHING!

Of Monsoons and Bubbles

As predicted, the rain fell steadily all day long yesterday. You’d think it was Ireland minus the sea and the mountains – that is, you would until it was time to go to the sale. Then it turned into Vietnam during monsoon season. An hour’s drive awaited us, so we left a little earlier than normal even though we harbored no illusions about being first in line. We’ve never been among the first five at this one, but it doesn’t matter because once inside everyone spreads out. Normally we shoot for a two and a half hour wait, but the weather cut  it back to two hours. But guess what? We were the first and only people in line for the entire first hour!

Always this sale is packed, primarily with Columbus dealers, but the minutes ticked by and at forty-five minutes to showtime only three additional people had shown up – one a scanner and the other two a couple of long-time dealers whom I know from NOBS but who live in the Columbus area. It wasn’t until twenty minutes before the doors opened that the rest of the attendees straggled in hauling dripping bins and tubs. The total number of people in line at the final bell was around twenty – a decrease so significant it couldn’t help but catch your attention. What’s interesting is that the turn-out exactly replicated that of last Friday night’s sale when I blamed the sparse attendance on the fact that there had been two significant sales that same week. Now I’m beginning to wonder if some other force is at work here. Yes, the rain may have been a factor, but I have been at sales when the roads resembled skating rinks and still people huddled against the library wall two or three hours in advance. I’m not ready to make any grandiose assessments here , but I do think this deserves careful watching if it continues.

As always, we headed first for the specials table. Two second later -- POP! Bye-bye pink and gold bubble. Not only was the specials table not special, but even the committee couldn’t warm up to their choices. Nothing exceeded $25 with the exception of a first edition Beatrix Potter which lacked a spine strip, was worn through at the corners and had a wobbly binding. They wanted $100 for that one, but I doubt it’s going to happen any time soon. Eric bought a couple minor things for the store from there, but I hit the stacks, as did the vast majority of the “crowd”. Right from the get-go I knew we’d score little to nothing exciting and I was absolutely right. Browsing was a breeze though , as everyone was polite, including the scanners. It’s been our experience that this is invariably the case unless you are in northeastern Ohio, home of the crazies and the brave who endure them.

Primarily I bought for the mall, but I did score a Foxfire magazine from 1974 that’s actually a book that became the issue for the winter quarter. I haven’t had a copy since 2008, so didn’t expect much price-wise, but amazingly, sellers are still offering it in the $45-50 range. I also bought a half dozen fine condition books from a nature series that does well in a retail setting. But here’s the real score of the night. This one is so freaking crazy you are not going to believe it. We got an enormous set of books in mint condition, a series from the early 1950's comprised of  “The Works of” various famous, classic  authors in a handsome binding, all unread and crisp as new for …. are you ready for this? – FIVE DOLLARS FOR ALL OF THEM! I am not kidding, we truly bought 54 books for five dollars. (See photo above, though not all are visible in the wooden crate)

No, the pink and gold bubble didn’t reemerge from the ether. And, no, I didn’t feel as though we came anywhere near  the magical sale of a few years ago. But we had fun, experienced zero stress, and made some good deals. All told, the book gods repaid last year’s selfless dedication to NOBS in spades.