The Captive Reader

via here

While browsing at my favourite local bookshop this afternoon, a woman came in and started talking with the salesperson.  She was looking for a book for her twenty-seven year old son.  Her parameters were vague but historical fiction was preferred.  Something set in Asia would be nice.  And if it involved armies and war, even better.

It was at this point I had to step in.

It’s not that I don’t trust trained sales people to do their jobs.  I do, especially at this particular store where the selection seems very carefully curated to consist 90% of books that appeal to me personally.  I just happened to be uniquely qualified to make this particular sale.

After all, there was a copy of Under Heaven by Guy Gavriel Kay directly in front of me.  It not only matched her particulars, it also happens to be one of my favourite books (confirmed when I reread it last year).

I plucked it from the shelf, passed it to the woman, and told her it was everything she was looking for.  The saleswoman had never heard of Kay (though thankfully she stocks his books) and certainly did not have my trump card – the last person I recommended it to was also a twenty-seven year old male and he loved it.

I am delighted to say I made the sale.  It is in fact the second time this year I have been able to hand-sell that particular book.  Book sellers of Vancouver, beware!  I am roaming the streets, ready to pounce on your customers and make passionate recommendations.