The costs of sympathy

I walked into a local Chapter's bookstore this past Saturday. Out of habit, I looked to the bulletin board on the left in the vestibule, where the staff posts recent recommendations and author appearances. Lo and behold, an author was scheduled to appear. Her book was a fiction piece, something about a girl, while going through some village rites of passages, is prematurely thrust into a scenario where the balance of the world tilts on her fingertips. MY GAWD!!! Without a second thought, I walked in and MY GAWD! Her appearance is today!

The author is practically an unknown as far as I'm concerned, so it's no surprise that there was nobody at her table. Our eyes met, we smiled at one another, and in a split second I thought "Shit, if I go there, I'll have to buy the book. But man, I feel bad for her. Maybe I should buy her book just so she feels a bit better. Wait a sec....glossy cover, bigger than standard 4 x 7 size....IT'S NOT PAPERBACK! That's gonna cost me $20 at least." After a few more split seconds of pondering and some awkward moments of staring at one another, I decided to bolt to Starbucks and get a coffee while I pondered (which I was gonna do in anyway, as per my regular Chapter's routine).

Now, keep in mind that I have had this experience before, and the first time around, I bought the book. I won't say which book it is so as not to create negative publicity for it, but.... WORST BOOK I EVER READ. I didn't even finish it. The author told me how he had never written before. Initially I figured he meant "never written a published book", but he must've meant "never written anything creative", because it was the most awful, contrived plot EVER!!! A previous girlfriend had done the same thing as well with a different author, with similar results. My past experiences were not boding well for this prospective benefactor of my sympathy.

As I mixed my coffee and pondered on the fiasco that was the last time, I decided that I would plunk down the $20. I turned in that direction and to my surprise, someone was talking to her. I thought, "Great! Now I don't have to!", headed straight to fiction, and half an hour later, walked out the front door.

In retrospect, I think I should've bought the book anyway. I don't know how many copies she sold, but I know the majority of the time, the authors don't do all too well at those things. She was by herself again as I left. My wallet still has that $20 (and the tax is still in my pocket in the form of change), but now there's this slight lingering guilt that I could've helped out a bit. I guess I should've considered the other costs of my dumb sympathy.