Barnes Storming

Yesterday's Barnes & Noble table signing (not to be confused with a "table dance") in Jenkintown, PA was a mixed bag. On one hand, I only managed to hand-sell six copies of The Wheelman... which was a far cry from the 24 copies the store had ordered. On the other hand, I had the chance to talk to some really cool people.

First was Edward Pettit, who runs the newly re-launched Bibliothecary blog. A few cool things about Ed that I didn't realize: a.) He lives right there in Jenkintown, b.) he's a a graduate of La Salle University, my alma mater, and c.) he has five daughters. Five! Anyway, Ed made me look very important and cool by his very presence.

I also talked Ed into buying a copy of Ken Bruen's The Guards; he was torn between that and a vastly inferior crime novel. (Ed... was I right or was I right?)

Then came Marc Lombardi, former Philly Mag intern extraordinaire (circa 1996), who brought with him a copy of Charles Willeford's Pick-Up that I'd loaned him back in... well, I guess it was 1996. It's a sweet Black Lizard edition I completely forgot I owned at some point. In fact, I feel funny having it back. If anyone wants to borrow it, shoot me an e-mail.

A short while later, a stern-looking man approached. Picked up the book. Eyed it. Said: "You're selling these, huh?"

I gave him my usual wisecrack: "Hey, you could steal it if you want. Either way, it counts as a sale!"

"He'd better not," said his wife, standing next to him. "He's a cop."

Not just a cop, but a retired Philly homicide detective named David Clark. And hot just a retired homicide detective, but a guy who has spent the last 18 months training new police officers in Iraq. Yeah. A real hardboiled type, right there in the flesh. The reporter in me fell in love; this was a man I needed to take to lunch. We talked about W.E.B. Griffin, and then Stephen King (not that King needs it, but I found myself recommending his latest, Cell, to pretty much everyone who stopped at my table). Best of all, Mr. Clark purchased a copy of The Wheelman. Of course, now I'm a bit worried he'll think it's full of shit and decide to arrest me, just to teach me a lesson.

There were some odd moments... like the woman who walked up to my table, picked up a copy of the book, sighed, then said "Okay, I guess I'll buy it."

"Great," I said. "Would you like me to sign it?"

Her eyes narrowed. What kind of scam was I pulling?

"It'll be worth 35 cents more that way, when you sell it on eBay later."

She was skeptical, but allowed me to sign it anyway.

Later still, a guy walked by, said: "Hey, how's your book?"

"Excellent," I lied.

"Hah! You're biased, aren't you?"

"Could be worse," I said. "I could be James Frey."

Thanks to everyone who stopped by to talk. Even if you didn't buy a book. Remember: you can always steal the thing.