Memoir of a Novice Book Giver

March 5th 2011 and it has finally come – the first World Book Night. In Colchester there was to be a fantastic book night party ‘The Colchester Big Book Bang’ and I decided to give away my 48 copies of Rohinton Mistry’s brilliant novel, ‘A Fine Balance’ on the streets of Colchester during the day and at the same time raise awareness of the evening party.
 
But did I have what it takes to be a WBN giver? After all, being fairly retiring kind of fellow, accosting strangers on the streets was not my normal style. What’s more after thirty years of selling books, my brain had been hardwired into maximising cash return from handing over books to strangers. I had heard Jamie Byng's passionate advocacy of the act of giving. It all sounded brilliant but could I side step my commercial instincts and embody that generosity of spirit which was needed? I remembered an old psychology talk I attended many years ago when the theme was changing oneself. The trick to acting differently was to think differently and as an aid to thinking differently, well try dressing differently. Mistry’s novel is set in India and so I prepared for my book giving adventure by trying dressing as close to Indian as I could find in my rather limited wardrobe. So it was that Saturday morning found me outside the shop dressed in trousers from Guatemala and a hand made shirt from the Karen hill tribes of N.W. Thailand - the closest to Indian I could muster. But feeling still just a little exposed, I popped into Poundland and found a straw trilby with a blue band. Not very Indian but at least it was different.
 
En route back to the shop I dropped into the New Age shop and bought some joss sticks to help with the Indian atmosphere. I gave the shopkeeper a copy of ‘A Fine Balance’.  She was delighted, really thrilled and I suddenly felt that yes, perhaps I could truly become a giver. Then there was the Big Issue seller on the corner. I bought a Big Issue and gave him a copy of ‘A Fine Balance.’ He also was surprised and very pleased. I stopped for a chat. Not something I generally do with Big Issue sellers. I told him about the book. He told me his name was George and it was to be his last week selling the Big Issue having just been offered a real job. He told me more. And it was a heart warming tale. I started to feel really rather good about giving books away. A quick trip to the bank for more change was needed so at the cashiers counter I took the bags of change out of the tray and slid a copy of the book back in return. I told the cashier about the big book giveaway. She said it made her day and attracted the attention of the other cashiers. We talked about books. This giving business was turning out to be easier than I had thought.
 
And so back from the bank and finally I was ready to start properly – after all so far my giving had been on the back of already established relationships. How would I fare with true strangers on the street? I lit the joss sticks on a table in front of the shop, by now itself decorated with Indian material draped across the frontage. I piled some books on the table and looked out for a suitable stranger. Within my breast the ‘spirit of giving’ was growing. I approached my first stranger holding out a book. The stranger quickened his step and resolutely failed to either look at me or even acknowledge that he had heard my voice. Within me the ‘spirit of giving’ shrank just a little. But soon I became more confident, experimenting with different opening lines and mostly the response was really positive. Many people had heard about World Book Night and were really pleased to be part of it. One young man had already picked up a copy of the same book I was giving away. He had found it on a park bench tied p with a note saying ‘please find me a good home’. It was all becoming great fun. I talked to lots of people about books and the great book giveaway. I told them about the evening book bang party. And the ‘spirit of giving’ grew stronger.
 
But I realised that while I was now giving to strangers I was still really playing it safe. After all I still had the security of the shop behind me and I also realised that subconsciously I was judging the passers by according to whether they seemed to be ‘bookie types’ and thus only approaching the most likely of Colchester’s Saturday shoppers. What, you may ask, constitutes a ‘bookie type’? Well, thirty years of bookselling gives one pretty good radar for things like that. I remembered Jamie Byng’s passion for World Book Night and wasn’t part of it to engage with the reluctant readers, the lapsed readers and yes, perhaps even the non readers? So I filled my book bag with another dozen copies and went off piste. Walking with pride and purpose I strode down the High Street and around the corner.
 
Outside Argos I stopped.
 
This was to be final testing ground.  
 
When the first man exited Argos, I approached him with a smile holding out a copy of ‘A Fine Balance’. He quickened his step muttering ‘Not today, mate’. I felt just a little crushed by such an abrupt rebuff but  was determined not to let it upset me and so followed immediately with a gentle approach to a woman with a push chair. ‘No time, now’ she said rather more forcefully than was necessary and then looked at me such suspicion - as if I might be about to kidnap her baby rather than give her a literary novel. I could sense that the ‘spirit of giving’ was now shrinking within me. I suddenly felt awkward and odd standing between the supermarket and Argos trying to give away copies of ‘A Fine Balance’. But refusing to give in, I approached a middle aged man holding my book out.  He said nothing but the look he gave me said everything. Disgust. I might as well have been offering him a dismembered chicken. I felt crushed and dispirited. About to retreat defeated back to the safety of my bookshop pitch, I looked heavenward for inspiration. I imagined I heard the voice of Saint Jamie….. ‘Peter, this is your test. You must have faith in the ‘Spirit of Giving’. Give this woman a book’. I glanced round and without thinking said to a passing young woman ‘I think this is a book you’ll love’. She turned and looked at me saying ‘That’s amazing – it’s actually my favourite book’. In her eyes I saw she was truly touched. Human to human. The spirit of giving triumphed. And I went through my last dozen copies with lapsed and reluctant readers. Some falling on stony ground and some falling on fertile ground. Saint Jamie, I thought, would be proud of me.