Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 4/27

Thanks to the lovely young woman who pulled up to the bus stop, exited her car, which she left running, flicked away a cigarette, and said: "I need something to read." She chose hardcovers by Nora Roberts, Nelson DeMille and Daniel Silva. Speaking of Silva, I just finished The Messenger (2006), a thriller about an Israeli agent on the trail of terrorists. It moves into second place on the list of those I've sampled, behind Tami Hoag's A Thin Dark Line. What I liked most about it is that it makes no bones about the war on terror - it's real, deadly and must be won. And the writing, to borrow a phrase from Linda Richman, the Coffee Talk character on Saturday Night Live: "It's like butter," more polished than anyone else in the genre except Joy Fielding. It takes the hero around the world and moves swiftly in short sections, as do so many novels of this type. Silva's background is in journalism. He abandoned it when he found immediate success in the literary field. All his novels have been New York Times best sellers. Ten of them focus on the same protagonist. This does not sit well with a lively little old lady, who has the energy of a teenager and who frequently stops by the floating bookshop on her daily trek to the library. "You've read one, you've read them all," she says. Still, fans continue to snap them up. Silva's work has been translated into 30 languages. I can attest only to the quality of the book in question: on a scale of five, I rate The Messenger three-and-a-half. My only quibbles are its length (480 pages) and a few instances where the dialogue does not ring true, but those are brief and hardly detract from the overall quality.
Inception just arrived, courtesy of Netflix. I haven't been this eager to see a film in a long time. I hope I haven't set myself up for a let down. 
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Selling My Books on the Streets of Brooklyn 4/20

The forecast was wrong. We had no rain, and the sun broke through. I risked not going to the shelter of the viaduct, and it paid off immediately, as a gentleman purchased two DVDs, W and War, Inc., films that delighted leftists and the rest of the public ignored. They were amongst the CDs Marie donated. I suppose some conservatives would label me a traitor for disseminating such fare, but free speech shouldn't be quashed, especially if there's a profit to be made on it. A while later a young woman was disappointed that she didn't have ten bucks for A Hitch in Twilight, but she bought in bulk any way - five thrillers at my recommendation, two by Sandra Brown, a Lisa Scottoline, Daniel Silva and Nora Roberts. Readers love those authors. That's where the recommendation came from, not me. And to top it off, an elderly woman, wearing those thick sunglasses seniors sport, purchased another Sandra Brown thriller. "Enjoy," I said. "Oh, I will, I will," she returned. "She's so good." Thanks, folks.
I occasionally wonder if I should go down in price for one of my books. The Sicilian in me just won't let me do it. The other day a woman offered me six dollars for Close to the Edge. I wouldn't do it. I offer gift copies of other books to those who take the chance on one of mine at ten bucks. Buyers often refuse the gifts or limit themselves to one. Many authors give copies away as promotion, which falls in line with the theory that one must spend money in order to make money. It is my belief that that would work only with hundreds of copies. I'm in no position to do that. I also like the challenge of trying to turn a profit on the copies I buy. I turned positive on Close to the Edge long ago, and I'm more than halfway there on Adjustments, and just about there on A Hitch in Twilight. And if I factor in all the other books, CDs and DVDs I sell, which are donated to me, I'm way ahead.
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