The Pain of Bookstores

I'm not sure how many people actually walk into a bookstore these days, or at least a major one-not Wal-Mart, or anything small like that. For those who do--I do 99% of the time, unless I happen to find the pdf file online--have you ever noticed that you're the only one browsing for books? Just yesterday when I went to Barnes and Noble, I found that 80% of the customers were either in Starbucks, the comic book section, or the DVD section of the store. The other 20%, well it should be smaller than that, because I'm speaking a really small 20%, were either checking out cookbooks or some of the bargain books. nearly 0% of all those people were actually browsing the books. Hundreds upon hundreds of books, never before seen by the eyes of those customers. I think I may have looked pretty weird, too. Carrying around my laptop bag, setting it down at every isle I stopped upon and blocking the bottom level books, and checking out books in the adult section. I was also forced to be clustered with several people who didn't give two shits about reading, and were there to play around. There was a small group of about three boys in front of the shop when I came in. A few minutes later, they came bustling in laughing and running, completely ignoring the books.

I think that my parents might have approved of me doing that, since it seems that they are more apposed to me reading believe it or not. In fact, it took less than a week for my parents to pay the 300 dollars for my football gear and stuff, versus the summer it took them to pay for publishing my book. Is it just me, or do my parents care more about my football career than my life-long passion?

Anyhow, the fact that several of the customers who go to bookstores like that flock to the comic books and manga pains me, as an author of course. Knowing that, when my books become bestsellers--if that ever happens--or if they are at least on one of those stands in the front, people are just going to fly past them in favor of the next volume of Bleach or Death Note--not that I have a problem with the two, I actually read them both--is a little discouraging. I mean, I see multiple volumes of my favorite author's standing on the shelves literally collecting dust, and I'm not even kidding. I had to actually brush the dust off of several copies I picked up at the Half-Price Book store up the street from my home. What's even more baffling is the fact of how small the comic book section of Half-Price Books is! It's one bookcase, a very narrow one with the same amout of shelves as the regular books, yet they get probably the most attention out of all the books in that store.

Not to mention the moms who force their children to come to Half-Price books and pick out one--only to find later that there best efforts weren't enough. I mean, I'm one of those few who actually spend time browsing, or sampling, or just staring at the books because there are so many to choose from. I could tell you a billion synopsis', compare them, and elaborate on them from all the back-covers of books I've read, and many people could not.

But, I don't have as much doubt as I used to. Where I came from, in Lancaster, Texas-terrible place by the way-when I went to the book section of any store around there-excluding the comic book store by the movie theater, that ALWAYS had at lest four customers in it at once-I would probably be the only one to check it out. My freinds were also reluctant readers, I even have friends now here in Rockwall who seem to bcome sick from the sight of the books in my room. I dragged my friend to Half-Price Books right before it stormed, and he looked good-awful pale, and he seemed to be sickening with every minute more spent there.

What also seems to tear me apart are the workers who work at the bookstores. What strikes me as strange is that, readers seem to work at places they dislike-movie theaters, restaurants, and other places that they can't wait to get out of-and those who hate to read work at bookstores. The few workers who like to read are freaks with long hair and latitudinal stomachs that protrude through their shirts like when you were a kid and you stuck a basketball up your shirt.

The Pain of bookstores is that, whenever you see a girl who does read, you're too damn scared to ask her--or anyone for that matter--with the fear of coming off as strange. Also, humans don't interact as friendly-ly as they used to back in the 1900's when you could say, to that guy next to you who is holding the book you really like and say something about it and they wouldn't give you the quick smile, 'yea!' and then  un-comfortableness that fills the air three seconds later. The Pain of Bookstores is that you seem to be the only savior to those poor books that have stood on the shelves for months, and moths, and years. The Pain of Bookstores is that is has become a playground for those who detest the sight of books. The Pain of Bookstores is that it becomes the shaming ground for nerds/geeks/weirdos-joshing about the last one-when some guy comes up smiling with is face all red, and his friend snicking behind him, and they ask you that damned question. 'That a good book?' and you respond, and they nod and go back to their friend and they burst out laughing.

Yeah, that's happened to me a lot.

So, now you understand my pain of bookstores. Hopefully.