I’ve been selling some of my books as an Amazon Reseller. I’d list them here and sell them to you, gentle readers, but that would breach the non-commercial terms of my account with WordPress.
It’s a slightly odd feeling, sending a book I don’t want to someone who does. The one I chat about these things with said I should print out a copy of my post distancing myself from all things flaky and include it with the copy of Light up your Life – discover your true purpose and potential, but that seemed churlish given that I was happy to take their £4.75.
It’s a satisfying process, printing off three copies of the packing slip, finding a suitable jiffy bag, sealotaping the packing slip to the bag, taking the package to the post office, buying the stamps and keeping the receipt for the postage. Saying such a formal farewell to unwanted or inappropriate gifts provides closure, and it’s a ritualised and profitable way to discard the ghosts of previous relationships.
But it’s also odd.
I find myself wondering who on earth would want to spend a fiver on a copy of Roger’s Profanisaurus?
Which fool thinks that if they Eat Right 4 Their Type it’ll make a blind bit of difference to their health? I did think of writing “this is complete shite” on the packing slip for that one, actually. The woman who recommended it to me swore by the approach but she always seemed to have little niggly things wrong with her, and then it turned out she’d been eating for the wrong blood-type all along. Which only goes to SHOW. Though what exactly it shows I wouldn’t like to say. I don’t in fact know my own blood-type and so I toyed with the idea of “eating right” for each type for a month to see if it made any noticeable difference at all, but really I could not be arsed, and now I don’t have the book so I’ve lost the chance.
Selling some of these books is also an admission that I am never going to read them. Does the person buying a Poetry Handbook want it to improve their own poetry or because a lecturer or teacher has Set it as a Text? If they buy it and read it, does that make them a Better and More Serious Person than I am, who merely rented it from Amazon for a while without reading more than two or three pages and gulping nervously?
So it’s an interesting thing, selling on Amazon, but I probably wouldn’t bother if there wasn’t a Post Office in the building where I work. They pay the money into my bank account, but I wish they’d block it up into fivers and give it to me as gift certificates. Then I’d sell lots and LOTS of books, just to feed my habit.