Tea in the Library by Annette Freeman Page A

the conference stimulating and useful, and also great fun. A feature every year was a “great debate” at the closing dinner, with a topical if inane question about the industry debated humorously by two teams of three booksellers, publishers & visiting authors. This has always been a lot of fun, and it is good to know that  these people could give up their day jobs if necessary, and make a living as comedians!
    The final conference I attended (before the demise of Tea in The Library disqualified me) was the year it went to Canberra. I took along Emma this year — she was now managing the bookshop. The dinner at Old parliament House, with Don Watson giving the dinner address, and the subsequent adjournment to the Members’ Bar, were memorable highlights.
    There were many marvelous characters among the booksellers I met through the ABA. They were always so willing to help me with advice and practical solutions — I was humbled and amazed. Over a Chinese dinner after the NSW Chapter’s monthly meetings, they were all happy to talk about the details of running their businesses. Sometimes the responses could be a little disconcerting. One vener-able — and successful — seller of children’s books left me speechless when she told me confidentially, over the Mongolian lamb, that it was wonderful running a shop, because “there was always cash in the till when you needed it.”
    Once, at dinner, I asked my neighbours at the table how long they thought it should take before a new shop broke even. The chap from Abbeys thought carefully and advised that it could take two to three years. A bookseller who, with his lively wife, ran two Angus & Robertson franchises on the Central Coast, was appalled. “But you must make a profit from day one! Otherwise, how can you survive?” Take your pick.
    One terrific supporter of Tea In The Library from the booksellers’ fraternity was Derek, the owner of Better Read Than Dead in Newtown. He was — probably still is — a tireless worker for the ABA, and much in demand as the MC at the conference functions, where his humour guaranteed a lively evening. At the ABA conferences, and through the publishers’ reps, booksellers are often given uncorrected proofs, or prepublication copies of up-coming releases. The idea is that the front-line sellers will have read the book in advance and will therefore be in a good position to spruik it to their customers. At one conference, we were given copies of a new Dan Brown novel which was about to be released — The Da Vinci Code.
    â€œHave you read this yet?” asked Derek.
    â€œNo, not yet. What’s it like?”
    â€œNot bad. It should do OK.”

Chapter Eleven

Finding our demographic
    Early one damp May morning I sat, cappuccino in hand, at a table in the café at The Sydney Dance Company’s rehearsal rooms, which occupy an old reclaimed wharf in the eastern precinct of Sydney Harbour. I had a newspaper insert in my hand, a schedule of the day’s events, and I pored over it with anticipation and interest. The Dance Company lives in the lower level of the wharf, and the upper levels house the Sydney Theatre Company, two small theatres, and a restaurant. This particular wharf is one of several in a row, one now converted to luxurious apartments, another offices. They sit practically under the tall grey span of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, surrounded by water, with small craft tied up at the adjoining marina and huge vessels steaming close by as they negotiate the channels of the working harbour. I love this precinct — now with the new Sydney Theatre in a re-designed old warehouse across the road, plus the Philharmonic Choir’s rehearsal rooms, and all kinds of “artsy” businesses and chic eateries springing up. The long, long wharves themselves, with their echoing walkways of old timbers, evoke a feeling of solidity and nostalgia.