BESTSELLERS & BEST FRIENDS
My book publishing blog, with murder mysteries woven through it.
If this is your first visit, be sure to start with “1. Let’s do it!”
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It wasn’t just the authors that made working at Little Brown a great experience, it was also going out on the road with Alan Fairbanks, the New England sales rep.
Alan had the best territory! The quality of bookstores throughout New England was unmatched. As was the beauty of its geography.
Alan was calm and smart. He drove at the speed limit, unlike Sandor who was always behind schedule because he talked too much and was always stopping to buy smokes.
Alan and I could head west from Boston, pause at the Concord Bookstore in Concord, then onto Amherst (home to the University of Massachusetts, Hampshire College, and Amherst College), call on three stores in Northampton (home to Smith College), then head for the Berkshires. That western Massachusetts trip was a one- or two-nighter.
Northampton (MA) bookstores
Or we could head along the coast north of Boston with a quick stop in New Hampshire than several in Maine. Remember, this was pre-cable, pre-Internet, pre-streaming, and pre-mobile. Consumers had a few newspapers and four TV stations (CBS, ABC, NBC, PBS) which went off the air at midnight.
So Mainers read a lot of books, especially in the winter. In those pre-Amazon days, those books had to be gotten at the library or a bookstore. Back then, one could actually make a decent living and enjoy a good life owning a bookstore in Maine. The Maine trips were also one- or two-nighters.
Or best of all, I could join Alan on a call to the Grapes of Wrath bookstore on Martha’s Vineyard, the calming island an hour’s ferry ride off the coast of Cape Cod. No book rep actually had to call on Grapes of Wrath. Sales could really be done by phone and mail in those days. But the Vineyard was a bonus that went with the New England territory and the book reps grabbed it.
Martha’s Vineyard ferry
Bill Franks and his wife, Barbara, ran Grapes of Wrath. Bill was a terrifically likeable and charming guy who was active in regional and national bookseller associations.
Whenever I was calling on an account with a sales rep, I kept my mouth shut. This was the rep’s show, his or her moment, one not to be messed with by some jerk from the home office. So while Alan did his stuff, I listened and looked around.
The tiny office in which Alan sold the list to Bill was tight. I sat on an overturned wastebasket. A bust of Albert Einstein on a shelf next to my shoulder, seemingly kept an eye on Alan. And my sore ass begged me to stand and excuse myself. I did.
I slipped out of the office and watched Barbara at work. It was soon obvious that Barbara was the brains behind the store’s success. Always moving – on the phone, behind the counter, with a customer in the stacks. And I had to smile, she always corrected Bill’s frontlist buy as he’d take too many of too many titles for too many wrong reasons.
Barack Obama hanging out near the Grapes of Wrath
Over the decades, celebrities flocked to the Vineyard. Jackie Kennedy, Mike Wallace, Oprah Winfrey, Larry David, Bill Gates, Meg Ryan, Reese Witherspoon, Bill and Hillary Clinton, James Taylor, Diane Sawyer, Bill Murray, Spike Lee, Barack and Michelle Obama, David Letterman, Mike Nichols, Michael J. Fox, Carly Simon, etc.
Barbara always kept her eyes open for a new book by any of those folks.
The celebs wouldn’t do any sort of event, but they were all customers of the store and would happily autograph 20 or so books. It wasn’t long before Barbara had built up an amazing stock of autographed books. Eventually, customers from around the world learned that they could call her and order an autographed book to be sent by mail. She even had an autographed copy (oh boy) of Matt’s Reinventing Justice.
Those autographed books kept her busy during the winter off-season, especially prior to Christmas. She had minimal costs (no staff and short hours) during the winter. But she mailed up to 40 autographed books a day, clearing $15 per book. No other store in New England did business like that in the cold of winter. She was so smart.
Meanwhile, every time a Little Brown sales director left, or was fired, rumor was that Alan would come in-house and take the gig. After all, he was the only rep who lived in the Boston area. Sort of made sense. But Alan knew better. He always talked as if it was a possibility, but that in-house position was a hot seat. You’d burn out or take the fall. And you’d sure not spend your days driving through the beautiful Berkshires, or up along the Maine coast, or onto a ferry for a night on Martha’s Vineyard.
Sadly, as happens, over on Martha’s Vineyard charming Bill Franks started sleeping around. It was ugly and embarrassing. (Sleeping around is best done in a large city, not in a small town where EVERYBODY knows you.)
The Franks eventually divorced and Barbara got the store in a settlement. Under her guidance, the Grapes of Wrath wisely jumped on the promise of technology—hers was one of the first stores to have a profitable website. Bill disappeared from the Vineyard and the book conventions and started showing up in bars. Soon, nobody had anything good to say about the once beloved bookseller.
Meanwhile, I got an envelope in the mail today. Inside, cut to pieces, was the cover of my Einstein book. Pissed-off-Einstein guy is so annoying.
Tomorrow: Lunch, and The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich