From Terror to Triumph ... the Baker on Broadway

by Joe DeRozier

Joe, caught being terrified.

They walk by, casually turning their heads to look at my table while being very careful not to make eye contact.

I usually push my books at Fall and Christmas events, believing my chances of getting sales are elevated being close to the holidays, but a few weeks ago I read about an opportunity to attend a Spring Spectacular.

I wasn't sure how well I'd do because the targeted audience would be different.

The holiday crowd can be persuaded to purchase a stocking stuffer, White Elephant gift, or that generic gift for a coworker whose name they drew for a Christmas gift but weren't sure what they could possibly buy for less than $15.

So what could be my selling point just before summer other than expensive kindling for a campfire?

Though I was skeptical of my salesmanship this time of year, I decided to give it a try and headed to the Miami County Fairgrounds that brisk Saturday morning.

I arrived at the main building to check in, where I was told that my spot was in the next building on a white, eight-foot folding table.

I went to my designated area, unloaded my books, and set them up in chronological order.

It was then that I discovered, to my horror, that there was no coffee in this building!!

I ran...

  ... well, I walked...

  ... ok, I hobbled...

  ... back over to the main building, and bought a cup of coffee, tearfully asking about the lack of caffeine in the building that I would be pushing books onto unsuspecting victims for the next seven hours.

The very compassionate organizers of this event, Jennifer and Patty, who desperately wanted me to stop crying like a little girl, told me to message them when I was suffering withdrawal, and they'd deliver lifesaving nectar to my table...

... and, just like that, all was once again right in the world.

I hobbled back to my spot, straightened out my books that I had straightened out many times before, and waited.

  This...

  ... is the worst part. 

Everything I've done to this point has been rushed (especially the coffee and crying). I thought of little else because there was so much to prepare. 

But now...

... now I had time to worry.

Will anyone stop?

Will I sell any books?

Will anyone talk to me?

Will Jennifer and Patty really bring coffee to me, or did they just want me to stop getting tears on the counter of the concession stand?

Anyone who has seen me at one of these events assumes I'm very comfortable talking to random people and trying to convince them to buy my books...

... and they're wrong.

I... am... terrified.

The way people walk by, casually turning their heads to look at my table while being very careful not to make eye contact, is horrifying.

Because I'm scared to death, I've learned to bring a buffer...

... and that buffer is donuts.

My books were placed front and center on my white, eight-foot folding table, and framing them were boxes of donuts of every variety.

After several minutes of anxiety and three cups of coffee delivered by the hostesses with the mostest-es, the masses began to file in. 

As predicted, they scanned my table as they approached, then tried to divert their gaze before I saw them, but...

... but the donuts would catch their attention just a half second too long.

I was pretty nervous (three cups of coffee may or may not have contributed to my jitters), so I took another sip of coffee, swallowed hard, and asked if they'd like a donut.

"No, thank you.  I just had breakfast," they'd say while holding their tummy.

This is the typical polite response used as they attempt to beat a hasty retreat.

 Then I'd continue, "They're free..."

The words, "They're free," will stop people like they've hit a wall.

"Free?" They will repeat, almost in a daze.

It's not entirely because they want a free donut, as much as they're curious about the catch.

There has to be a catch for a free donut, right?

I tell them that I own the bakery downtown, and this is what opens up a dialogue.

 There are jokes about free donuts not having calories, being made with love, and how they aren't unlike multivitamins.

Once they've decided that maybe one donut wouldn't hurt, they approach my table to pick out their favorite flavor.

They question once again about this confectionary gift, and I explain that, in reality, they aren't REALLY free, because now I have the opportunity to tell them about my books and they'll feel obligated to listen to my pitch while they take down that Maple Persian in three bites.

I regale stories to them like a grandpa sharing stories of yesteryear to his grandkids around a campfire.

And now... I'm in my element.

Some would laugh, realizing what I was doing, and ask if the books were free, too.

"Of course," I answered with a grin. "But then that donut is $10."

Fellow vendors also stopped by for a free donut, then felt they should at least ask about my books.

"Take one back to your table." I told them.  "Read it, and if you like it, come back to buy it.  If you don't like it, just bring it back."

"It won't hurt my feelings if you don't like it.  Heck, my own wife hasn't read one."

They'd laugh...

 I'd laugh...

... but I wasn't kidding...

Well, maybe that hurts my feelings a little.

One vendor read the whole book, came back, and bought it.

Another read the whole book... and brought it back... 

... she's probably related to my wife.

The parade of people never stopped, and Jennifer and Patty, true to their word, kept my lifeline of hot bean water flowing...

... they were so kind to me.

In those seven hours, I met:

•  A woman who really felt the love from my "Toula stories."

• Two beautiful ladies who had read my books at Dr. Roberts’s Dental office and had come to buy my other books.

• Pet owners who loved my Max stories.

• Many who asked about my Greek Princess.

• The lady at the table next to mine, who was an artist from the New England area, and was SO nice. 

• Military people who told me my Army stories resonated with them. 

• A young lady named Alex who was set up across from me, selling sweets... I felt bad because here I was giving donuts away, messing with her sales.  She said she did not mind at all, got a donut for her and her fiancé, and bought all nine of my books!

• Two young women who told me how they teased their husbands, saying, "Joe calls his wife a Princess..."  

  ... I hope I don't get beat up.

• Chris Rooker, who came in to visit me and hilariously impersonated one of those animated "wiggly guys" that were outside the doors.

Later on, Jennifer, who had to be exhausted from having to interact with me on each coffee run, brought a whole pot of coffee.

I had a great time.

In the end, I packed up the books that were left, finished my coffee, and bid adieu to my fellow vendors.

It'll probably be Fall before I go to another function to sell my books.

And though my brain will tell me that everything will be fine, especially with my buffer of fresh donuts, I'll still be terrified by the thought of the people who will walk by, casually turning their heads to look at my table while being very careful to not make eye contact...

... I just hope Jennifer and Patty can make it.

P. S. Joe DeRozier is one of my favorite guests at the Window and my absolute favorite donut. His back room is Peru's answer to the round table at the Algonquin Hotel in New York. I love what he writes, and this one really hit home, because I share that terror and I don't have donuts to offer!

You can get his books at various places--including the back room--and on Amazon. - Liz