Learning about advertising in the shop around the corner.

Across the street from my favorite movie theater, there is a little bookstore. Inside, not too far from the entrance, there is a table on which the owner places new releases, both fiction and non-fiction, and that's where I spotted Juliet, Naked. Now having previously read About a Boy, Hi Fidelity and Slam, I wasn't immediately sure whether I wanted to read another Nick Hornby story. But then I saw a tab sticking out from it. It was a homemade book marker, a thin strip of cardboard that someone had cut out with a pair of scissors and left peeking out from the pages to arouse curiosity. Of course I picked up the book. The subtlety of the device was masterful.

Hmmm. Could it be clever salesmanship? No way, not in my quaint village bookstore.

Upon inspection (and sorry about the poor quality of my photo), the book marker had been part of some product's packaging, a section of it that had plenty of white space to write a prospective buyer a short note. 

The delivery was effective. The medium was perfect. It wasn't written on an index card or piece of paper, something that the author, Kristen, would have had to seek out. No, I imagine she had finished the book, simply had to share her thoughts, grabbed whatever was handy and let her enthusiasm rip.

I loved the little indications of emotion–-the caps on letters that don't call for caps, and the exclamation points after each of the two sentences. Nice touches. It was perfectly imperfect. It was authentic. Clearly there wasn't a company behind this note––this was personal. It wasn't advertising; it was communication. It was too good to be advertising.

I became curious about the author. How old was Kristen? She couldn't have been too old––she was in college or had recently graduated, that was my guess. Her enthusiasm was young-ish, sort of like when kids tell their friends about a cool new band that they just "LOVE," but revealed enough experience to know something about "Relationships." Oh well, there wasn't enough information there for me to say if I liked Kristen, but I certainly didn't resent her and her testimonial.

Needless to say, I succumbed. I bought the book.

Did I like it? It doesn't much matter if I liked it, does it. I was sold.

Part of me suspects that she's a very, very crafty manipulator, this Kristen.