I've worn numerous hats in the horror community, including message board moderator, blogger, reviewer, editor, and author of nonfiction books. I've added a credit to my resume in recent years as a bookseller.
I became a bookseller for a couple of reasons. One, I used to bemoan the paucity of used booksellers at horror cons. There were many authors and publishers, and I'd occasionally see a few books on the tables of various vendors, but no genuine booksellers. It's a hole in the industry I sought to fill.
Another reason is more personal. I've never talked about it a lot, but I had a fairly serious drinking problem for most of my adult life. I didn't need a convention as an excuse to overindulge, but they provided an easy place to party down with friends.
I quit drinking quite a few years ago. I no longer miss it. Except when I am at cons. It's really hard. The first convention I went to as a sober person was particularly difficult. At one point in the evening I went to my room, alone, and cried my eyes out.
It's easier now, but there's no joy for me in hanging out in a roomful of drinkers.
Bookselling became an agreeable alternative to the party life. I sell books all day at a dealer's table, and by closing time I am wiped out. I may have dinner or perhaps attend an event if there's a good one going on, but I usually retire early.
I started out selling books and movies at a little show here in Virginia. They offered free tables, and I'd sell my own stuff I was ready to get rid of. In time my wife and I upped the scales and began getting organized. Horror Drive-In Books became a successful venture.
We sell items as cheaply as we can. Our goal is repeat customers and steady business. I've been told I should charge higher prices, but I think I do it as well as I can. Sure, I could probably get more money for a lot of stuff, but I consider that people are out at cons spending money hand over fist. Hotel rooms, bar tabs, and all the other enticing things to purchase. Competition for the dollar is pretty stiff.
All good, right? You'd think it's an admirable thing. Dealing with a past addiction problem and putting cool things in the hands of fans at very low prices...what's wrong with that?
We've heard grumbles about us. Our table is almost always busy. Friends have said others complain that we take money from the pockets of "creatives". I guess they don't realize I sell copies of my own books as well as used items. Jealousy is a sad thing.
If anyone thinks we are getting rich off this venture of ours, they are severely mistaken. Making money from selling used books is a sketchy endeavor. We do all right, but by the time we travel to various places looking for things to sell, buy the items, pay for our tables, there really isn't a lot left over.
Then there is the effort involved. Books do not drop out of the sky onto our table. It's a hell of a lot of work. We have to go through hundreds of items to decide what ones are best for whichever convention we are preparing for. There is the back-breaking labor of loading and unloading. We've had to buy numerous plastic cases and various carts until we found ones that suit us best. Setting up the table. Tearing down the table. Storing the materials is another headache. It's all exhausting.
I'm not complaining. Despite the frustration and exasperation we often feel, we love selling books. The best part is meeting readers and movie fans. Real readers and movie lovers. Especially those who venerate classic horror. People who love the genre with no thought of attention or free books.
Right now we average five or six shows a year. That's about all we can handle. I may supplement my retirement by selling on ebay in a few years, but I don't know. There is no pleasure for me in selling online. It's cold, impersonal, and a real pain in the neck. Face-to-face with true fans is much more to my liking.
There are great memories. Linnea Quigley stopped by the table at our last show. She didn't buy anything, but was very sweet. On two separate occasions charming young women said they loved Harlan Ellison and bought some of his books. Grady Hendrix grabbed a handful of old paperbacks as we talked about Wings Hauser movies. We met a young boy of around eleven or twelve who loves old monster movies. He and I discussed Roger Corman, the Twilight Zone, Hammer movies, and other classics. I told Clara I wanted to build a fort in the back yard and start a monster club with him. At one con I didn't recognize Lucky McGee and asked if he was a Jack Ketchum fan. I was embarrassed, but he laughed it off.
Dozens and dozens of great conversations. Smiling faces, enthusiasm, passion for horror. Gratitude for what we do. We've started seeing the same people over the years. It's become a read fellowship.
We always have free books for, as we like to say, children of all ages. We do everything we can to help entice a love of books and reading for young people. Sometimes the adults are just as excited as the kids when they see a beloved book from their own childhood.
I don't even mind people stopping by to simply talk. That's why we are there. Of course I want to sell things, but the real reason we do all this is to be a part of the community in a positive way.
Next time you are at a mid-Atlantic con, stop by and say hi. We'd love to meet you.
Written by Mark Sieber
I became a bookseller for a couple of reasons. One, I used to bemoan the paucity of used booksellers at horror cons. There were many authors and publishers, and I'd occasionally see a few books on the tables of various vendors, but no genuine booksellers. It's a hole in the industry I sought to fill.
Another reason is more personal. I've never talked about it a lot, but I had a fairly serious drinking problem for most of my adult life. I didn't need a convention as an excuse to overindulge, but they provided an easy place to party down with friends.
I quit drinking quite a few years ago. I no longer miss it. Except when I am at cons. It's really hard. The first convention I went to as a sober person was particularly difficult. At one point in the evening I went to my room, alone, and cried my eyes out.
It's easier now, but there's no joy for me in hanging out in a roomful of drinkers.
Bookselling became an agreeable alternative to the party life. I sell books all day at a dealer's table, and by closing time I am wiped out. I may have dinner or perhaps attend an event if there's a good one going on, but I usually retire early.
I started out selling books and movies at a little show here in Virginia. They offered free tables, and I'd sell my own stuff I was ready to get rid of. In time my wife and I upped the scales and began getting organized. Horror Drive-In Books became a successful venture.
We sell items as cheaply as we can. Our goal is repeat customers and steady business. I've been told I should charge higher prices, but I think I do it as well as I can. Sure, I could probably get more money for a lot of stuff, but I consider that people are out at cons spending money hand over fist. Hotel rooms, bar tabs, and all the other enticing things to purchase. Competition for the dollar is pretty stiff.
All good, right? You'd think it's an admirable thing. Dealing with a past addiction problem and putting cool things in the hands of fans at very low prices...what's wrong with that?
We've heard grumbles about us. Our table is almost always busy. Friends have said others complain that we take money from the pockets of "creatives". I guess they don't realize I sell copies of my own books as well as used items. Jealousy is a sad thing.
If anyone thinks we are getting rich off this venture of ours, they are severely mistaken. Making money from selling used books is a sketchy endeavor. We do all right, but by the time we travel to various places looking for things to sell, buy the items, pay for our tables, there really isn't a lot left over.
Then there is the effort involved. Books do not drop out of the sky onto our table. It's a hell of a lot of work. We have to go through hundreds of items to decide what ones are best for whichever convention we are preparing for. There is the back-breaking labor of loading and unloading. We've had to buy numerous plastic cases and various carts until we found ones that suit us best. Setting up the table. Tearing down the table. Storing the materials is another headache. It's all exhausting.
I'm not complaining. Despite the frustration and exasperation we often feel, we love selling books. The best part is meeting readers and movie fans. Real readers and movie lovers. Especially those who venerate classic horror. People who love the genre with no thought of attention or free books.
Right now we average five or six shows a year. That's about all we can handle. I may supplement my retirement by selling on ebay in a few years, but I don't know. There is no pleasure for me in selling online. It's cold, impersonal, and a real pain in the neck. Face-to-face with true fans is much more to my liking.
There are great memories. Linnea Quigley stopped by the table at our last show. She didn't buy anything, but was very sweet. On two separate occasions charming young women said they loved Harlan Ellison and bought some of his books. Grady Hendrix grabbed a handful of old paperbacks as we talked about Wings Hauser movies. We met a young boy of around eleven or twelve who loves old monster movies. He and I discussed Roger Corman, the Twilight Zone, Hammer movies, and other classics. I told Clara I wanted to build a fort in the back yard and start a monster club with him. At one con I didn't recognize Lucky McGee and asked if he was a Jack Ketchum fan. I was embarrassed, but he laughed it off.
Dozens and dozens of great conversations. Smiling faces, enthusiasm, passion for horror. Gratitude for what we do. We've started seeing the same people over the years. It's become a read fellowship.
We always have free books for, as we like to say, children of all ages. We do everything we can to help entice a love of books and reading for young people. Sometimes the adults are just as excited as the kids when they see a beloved book from their own childhood.
I don't even mind people stopping by to simply talk. That's why we are there. Of course I want to sell things, but the real reason we do all this is to be a part of the community in a positive way.
Next time you are at a mid-Atlantic con, stop by and say hi. We'd love to meet you.
Written by Mark Sieber
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