CLUNES LOOMING

OK. So the books are packed, I'm the proud new owner of 6 medium quality trestle tables, and I've got a concerned eye on the weekend weather. And here is where I'll be.

They put me in the Clunes Hotel on my own - apparently my reputation precedes me. Or not, now I think about it. At any rate, it's going to be a lonely day without some company.

Book festivals really do drag the wormwood out of the crack Absinthe, if you'll pardon the expression. There are several types I am expecting to see over the weekend. Please note that your book store loon is the relatively sane cousin of your book fair loon. These people could be strolling around setting buildings alight, or defecating happily into frying pans, to steal shamelessly from David Sedaris.

1) THE AUTHOR

To be feared. Rejection has taught him not to run up to a stall holder and blurt "IWROTEABOOKYESIDIDDOYOUHAVEITDOYOUDOYOU!?!?!?!?", so he'll probably go with something subtler. Like idly stroking the books and making remarks like 'It seems like a lot of work, writing a book, don't you think?', or 'Have you had any AUTHORS through here today?'. The correct response is that you're just minding the stall, don't know anything, and can I interest you in this wonderful work of fiction by Dan Brown? Once he takes you for an illiterate, you're out of the woods.

2) THE EARTH MOTHER

"Do you have any books on Healing The Soul?" will strike fear into the heart of almost any bookseller. Heavy brooches, beads, Chakra interpretations, the word 'aura', wispy hair and barely audible humming. DANGER DANGER. Under no circumstances should you confess to being a capitalist - if possible align yourself with some charity before distracting with something like 'Did you visit the incense and Heaven-Birthing house just down the street?'. Hopefully she'll meet too many beautiful souls on the way down there to come back and castigate you.

3) THE EDUCATOR - MILITARY

To say he, and it is ALWAYS he, is well versed in military history is like saying that Gordon Ramsay occasionally swears. Will open with assumed knowledge leading questions - a form of the conversational 'lobster trap', so named because once you fall in, you're stuck there. It goes like this:

Him: "Of course, you know what happened just before Napoleon was captured by the English?"

Now. Your options are either:

1) "Yes. Yes I do know."

or

2) "No."

At this stage, "Can you go and bother someone else please?" is outside the bounds of polite conversation. Plus, he might yet buy a book. Ever hopeful, you know.

Option 1 has bought you some more time, but no salvation. His response is then:

"Ah you do? You know about the 'Bellarophon', or as the sailors on board called it, the 'Billy Ruffian'? You've heard the story?"

You can see the pattern here. The questions will become more and more specific until it reaches a point at which you can't seriously claim to have an understanding of the Bosun's duties on a Tuesday when the Cap'n was laid low with scurvy. So eventually, one question or 5 questions in, you have to resort to option 2.

2) "No."

You are now in for a story. It will be long, and it will be boring. It doesn't really matter whether you listen or not, you're going to hear it anyway. Try not to swallow your tongue.

4) THE EDUCATOR - BOOKSELLING

A different brand of teaching, the bookselling educator will arrive before anyone else. His own stall is already set up, presumably without fault. While you hastily try and get everything out of the boxes, he'll wander around looking at your books, and making innocently malicious remarks such as:

- "Shouldn't this be over there?"
- "Oh, you're charging a lot for this book!"
- "I'll be surprised if you sell much, frankly"
- "Interesting location they've put you in, isn't it?"

After you've ignored these initial thrusts, the education will begin. It's always the same, and it begins like this:

"You know what you should do is..."

Now, you can put anything after that statement from "...offer a nude reading service for lonely old men" to "...put all the books on the back of a cart and have a man in a donkey suit drag it around" and you won't be able to come up with anything I haven't already heard.

There are about 25 booksellers loose in Clunes on the weekend. I'm gonna get educated REAL GOOD. I'll try and recall the more stupid pieces of advice which get tossed my way and publish them here, hopefully alienating everyone in the trade.

5) THE POET

Will claim to be drawn to literary shindigs "... as the morning sun is drawn into the sky by an invisible hand", or something similarly emetic. They flounce to and fro, occasionally hurling up a simile or a rhyming couplet which makes passers-by look at the bottom of their shoes. Avoid at all costs. On the positive side, there are no limits on how rude you can be to a poet - every bookseller hates them. They wander from stall to stall inflicting themselves on people until they're able to get a free lift somewhere.

6) THE JERK

Every retail environment attracts Jerks. There's nothing to be done about it, they're like pigeons, wild dogs and rubbish - everywhere. You will be able to identify them by the way they inspect every book you have, then asking for a specific book which they clearly have no intention of buying. Should you be able to produce this book, which is unlikely, since they carefully check your stock first, they will mutter remarks about cross-checking prices and scurry out of the store. Either that or they'll complain about the book's condition. Jerks.

There are more, of course, but I'm not really match-fit on the retail front. Who knows how we'll go? But if you're in the area, come by and say hi.