The other day, I was hanging behind the reference desk waiting for a fax to go through when I overheard the following conversation between a patron and a one of my co-workers:
Patron: “Excuse me, but don’t you have a copy of [Specific Book by Specific Author]*?”
Librarian (consulting catalog): “Yes, we own one copy, but it’s checked out right now. May I put a reserve on it for you?”
Patron: “Checked out? But it’s my book!”
Librarian: “Um?”
Patron: “I wrote it. I gave it to the library. It should be on the shelf.”
Librarian: “Well . . . I can flag the record and when it comes back, we could make it part of the local author collection so it can’t be checked out.”
Patron: “I want to check it out. If I’d known it wouldn’t be here when I wanted it, I would have kept it for myself!” (Stomps away)
It was surreal on several levels.
I mean, I know—boy, do I know—that that the majority of writers consider their stories to be their babies, their own precious offspring whom they’ve labored to bring forth, raised and molded, sworn at and cried over, and occasionally kicked out of the house.
But I’ve never before encountered a writer who demanded visiting rights. Or who wasn’t thrilled when someone wanted to set up a play date.
Several theories were offered by witnesses. A few of us starting looking around for the hidden cameras. One of us may have muttered that medications should only be tweaked under a doctor’s care. Another stated that while all writers were crazy, some were obviously crazier than others.** Most of us were wondering how the patron thought libraries worked and if it would be possible to explain it, supposing the patron was in the mood to listen.***
I can’t help thinking, though, that this particular writer might have hit on a pretty savvy marketing strategy—because at least three librarians and one eavesdropping patron now have that book on reserve.
Hmmm . . .
__________
*This is all you get, as I’m not identifying the patron any further. I don’t even know if s/he actually wrote the book in question, though it was self-published.
**”Right, Sarah?”
***One of us was shamefully glad the patron hadn’t asked how the local author collection worked.
Earful of Cider 
There’s definitely something fishy going on. A published author who doesn’t own a copy of their own book? Doesn’t seem likely. I love all the explanations you and your colleagues came up with. Yours, in particular, is hysterical. Certainly makes me want to read it!
You’re right—I kept thinking about the author (whose name escapes me—anyone?) who, when asked if he had a copy of his book replied, “Madam, I have hundreds.”
And it wasn’t even a full moon!
Tomorrow, in honor of this post, I am going to call at least one person “Madam”. Please tell me they were using a british accent.
Nope, but that would have been so Monty Python.
That’s it! That’s what it reminded me of, but couldn’t remember.
Thank you, Madam! XD
Unreal! I could see an author wanting to check their own book out, relying on the novelty of it (yes, I would so do it); but to be upset that someone else thought enough of your work to check it out? And you flip out because of it? Well, that’s nonsense. Unless, like you said, it was a tactic. In which case, it was a bit clever. Just a bit. 🙂
If I ever have a book out, I will be photographing the heck out of it anywhere I find it: libraries, bookstores, remainder shelves, bird cage bottoms, you name it.
Or maybe I’ll pick it up and say, loudly, “Oh, wow! It’s finally here! I’ve been waiting forever!” Which will be nothing but the truth.
But flipping out at a librarian doesn’t seem practical to me. 😉
Let me know. We can have the midwest contigent drive down and do it for you.
Would sunglasses and a feather boa be too much?
Oooo — would you?
I’ll be the one wearing the fake-ruby tiara, the plate-sized “I’m the Author” button with the flashing lights, and a child on each arm trying to yank me over to the children’s section . . .
Great story. My morning smile.
It’s about time I started to return the ones you give me, Downith! 🙂
Not return — I’m keeping them. Reciprocate.
Perhaps s/he took the term ‘collection’ a bit more literally. You know, something to be admired from afar, but not touched!
Could be. If so, her paradigm’s about eighty years out of date! 🙂
Oh for crying out loud. I’d have been doing a happy dance all over the lobby: “Someone’s reading meeeeee!!!”
I’m with you—and after the dance, I’d ease up to the desk and ask nonchalantly, “Oh? How many times has it been checked out? How many holds are on it? Don’t you think the library could use a few more copies?”
What a wackadoobird!
Now I have to know… can you give us any non-total-giveaway clues… what’s the book about?
It was in the fiction section, but it appeared to be a paranormal coming of age story. . . . And that’s really all I can say.
OMG…I know which book that is… my suggestion would be to not read it…