Barbara Poelle
Something is afoot over here on the 7th floor of 27 W. 24th St. and it is making me as giddy as a weredingo on her first moonlight jaunt.
(Yes, they have them loping about in Australia. Yes. They do. You know, “A weredingo ate my baby” and whatnot.)
Okay. Let me set the scene for you:
About 3 weeks ago, a note appeared in the women’s bathroom on the 7th floor. I am paraphrasing here, but the gist of it was something to the effect of:
Whoever is throwing their toilet paper all over the bathroom, please clean up after yourself.
It was probably the size of a small recipe card and copies were on the inside door of all stalls, placed at eye level when, uh, seated. When I first saw it, I thought, “Huh, never really noticed toilet paper strewn about, but whatevs. Nice enough little note.”
This little post stayed put for a solid ten days before it was removed- whether by the author or the tee-pee queen, I don’t know. But it was gone. So, some days go by, I sell some books, watch some BSG, eat some deviled eggs and then today I come into work and in the bathroom there is a new note. I am again paraphrasing but:
Woman who is throwing her toilet paper around. ENOUGH! This is not a Starbucks bathroom or a bathroom in a bus station. Other women use this! This is not your house! Nobody wants to see your toilet paper and your unflushed business. THROW YOUR TOILET PAPER AWAY.
I was so happy to see this I practically barked.
There are so very many fabulous things about this latest note, least of all being the clear emotional escalation towards total meltdown regarding an issue that as far as I can tell, isn’t really happening. I mean, let’s break this down into two possibilities:
1.) There are anywhere from 12-20 women using this bathroom on a given day, not including visitors. Maybe one overspools the t.p. a bit, and the remainder floats gently to the ground. Perhaps this happens more than once. Perhaps followed hours later by a flush mishap. All perpetrated by different passersby and all within normal bathroom (mal)functions.
OR
2.) There is a nefarious ill-bred female on the seventh floor intent on desecrating our bathroom the same way she attacks the commode after a venti mocha latte or a weekend greyhound trip to Poughkeepsie.
Regardless, I love these notes so much. I am desperately trying not to provoke the situation. But, it is very difficult. I actually brought a pen with me into the bathroom in order to jot a little note on her note that says:
Your pleas fall on deaf ears- this is MY toitey now, wench!
Because O.M.G, right? How a-MA-zing would THAT be? It would be so very fantastic. I seriously clicked my pen and was ready to do it. But then I thought, “Wait, I think I might be a grown up.” And I didn’t.
But to draw the most ridiculous metaphor ever, this is sort of like publishing. No, it is. Just follow me down into this weredingo den and I’ll explain:
So, there is a book. Let’s call it…Swirly. So Swirly is a comedic commercial fiction, a veritable ROMP if you will, and it comes out in hard cover in May and sells 894 copies.
All year.
Well, I am going to want to put my little sign up on the door and say, Whoever is responsible for not selling enough copies of Swirly, I am tipping dangerously close to insanity and blaming you for it.
But here’s the thing: there are a lot of components to why Swirly didn’t knock it out of the park. It wasn’t just some pants-around-her-ankles idiot all jacked up on the power of public urination who stood in the way of Swirly’s success. In fact, I bet if we all really thought about it, we each may have been a bit responsible for the stinky turn out. Starting with in house excitement and moving right through execution and pub date, did Team Swirly do everything possible for the success of this book- did they? Did Team Swirly don their jerseys and burst onto the field with everyone healthy and focused on the big win? Did Team Swirly stay hydrated?
I think what we forget is that a book’s success is dependent on so many moving parts, and thus, accordingly, so is its failure. (I also think the only difference between my education and a Harvard one is that I don’t use the word “thus” as much as those dudes do, thus I will be saying it more.)
I am marinating on this because I am about to have a very yummy book come out and I feel like everyone has been doing everything possible to make sure it hits the scene like a four ton whale stuffed with dynamite. I mean it. I want this book smashing cars. I want this book to make people stagger around as if covered in whale juice while murmuring, glassy eyed, “That book was just so good.” And I feel like we all chipped in to make that possible. I will OF COURSE be pimping it out on this site hard core as we get closer, so never fear, but as for now, I just wanted to say that I am very proud how hard the author, the editor, the marketing team, the publisher and I have worked on this, and I feel that no matter what happens, we all gave 110%.
Good. Now I must go. I am off to throw some toilet paper around the bathroom…
