Tea in the Library (27 page)

This was a great idea that started to show some promise, and could have gone further. We didn't get many bookings, despite sending circulars to all the event companies, but every now and then an after-hours booking would give us a much needed injection of cash 
—
and profit. Because we quoted for each event as a stand-alone offer, we had much more control over its profitability.

There was a memorable sit-down dinner for about twenty, which Sandy co-ordinated. Bea and Kate excelled themselves. The shop was transformed, with a long table covered in crisp white linen arranged between the bookcases. Bea arranged beautiful table settings, and Kate ensured the team of waitresses gave exemplary service. The outside caterer looked after the food. This was a first, and a great success, and left everyone feeling exhilarated. Kate tried to convince me that we could have done all the food as well, and increased our profit, but considering the vagaries of the kitchen, I wasn't keen to bite off more than we could chew.

Our quotation to host an event was also accepted by a client who was hosting a tea tasting by the grandson of Mr. Twining, of tea fame.

With our name and tea emphasis, we were front-runners. This was in fact held one morning, and meant closing the shop for a “private function”, but with our usual morning customer numbers, this was no great sacrifice. The client was very specific about cups, teaspoons and table settings, but was pleased with us.

Our efforts at after-hours events included our own media launches for the shop opening and the kick-off of Sydney Book Quarter, as well as a few private parties. The trick was, I found, to ensure that we could provide at least one of our staff members to take care of locking up and security. Where red wine was involved, we ensured that there was a clause covering possible damage to books, even possibly a bond if appropriate. We were prepared to close the shop for private functions, if worth our while, but this happened only a few times.

Book launches were semi-private affairs. We held these several times, but members of the public were also free to attend, like any other author event. The beauty of the launches was that a large crowd was assured, because the author would invite all his or her family and friends. First-time authors were especially lucrative in this regard!

Not so much “after hours”, but a memorable event nonetheless, was our effort at celebrating the Melbourne Cup. All of the country stops for the three minutes or so during which the Cup is run, always on the second Tuesday in November. Indeed, I had heard a rumour that this particular afternoon each year was the slowest moment in retail in the entire calendar. However, it is a top trading time for restaurants and other party venues. It is also common for Sydney offices to buy in catering for staff standing around the television set in their Race Day hats. We had a stab at capitalizing on this by offering a selection of catering platters, and managed a few sales of these. We also attempted
—
with rather less success 
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to attract people to the shop to watch the Big Race. We brought in a television set ( essential), offered a race Day menu (with bubbly of course), and invited all and sundry. There was a Cup Sweep, of course
—
de rigueur
. A small crowd gathered, supported by Sandy and myself in appropriate headwear. I guess it was better than doing nothing, as without making some effort the whole afternoon would have been a write off. Maybe we needed a few more years to build up a reputation as a fun place to watch the Cup.

Events In The Library had great possibilities.

Right from the start, The Vision, for me, included music. Not racks of CDs with their repetitive boxes, but audible sound, providing an evocative background for the book browsers and tea sip-pers. And using the “think big” approach, this included live music.

In our first year, on Thursday evenings after the speaker, and on Sunday afternoons, you could enjoy some live light jazz or a string ensemble. We alternated the two, before deciding after a few months that the strings were a bit dirge-like and the jazz more upbeat. We kept this going for about six to nine months, before I reluctantly concluded that it was costing more than it was earning us.

Ray Cassar's Jazz trio were not very expensive to hire, but they were “just right” for Tea In The Library
—
that is, not too boring but not too avant garde, and their double bass, keyboard and Ray with his funky trumpet fitted neatly into our space. Sometimes they played in a corner of the bookshop, but that restricted access to the bookshelves. Then we set them up in front of the fireplace, but their amps and electric cords and other paraphernalia still restricted book browsing somewhat. When the weather was warmer, we hit on the great idea of having them up on the landing at street level
—
terrific for attracting attention from passers-by. One memorable warm Sydney summer's night, Ray was joined by a female trumpet-player who was visiting from New York. We, and our customers, plus a bunch of non-customers who enjoyed free music were treated to a great impromptu jam session that went on long after Ray's scheduled time.

In the early weeks, “friends of the band”, or, in the case of the strings, friends of the violinists and cellist, would make up quite respectable crowds. We sold them supper, but they were not interested in books. The idea of having live music to follow the Thursday night speakers was to encourage the crowd to linger after they had asked their questions and had their books signed. In general we tended to lose the crowd around 7.30 pm when the author event was over, although we remained open until 9 pm. The music helped a little, but not a lot. Despite their popularity with some (including me) Ray and his boys were not enough to hold 'em there, buying food, wine and books. At least, not enough to justify their fee, albeit modest.

On a few other occasions when we didn't have an author lined up for Thursday night, or we had a last-minute cancellation, we provided live music in lieu. These were usually start-up bands from around town who would play for a small fee and the chance to sell their CDs. We came across them because they would drop their sample CDs into the shop with a pitch for a gig. Most names escape me now, but I do recall “Miss Otis Regrets”, a band with a girl singer and a neat line in swing.

While these were good “fillers” for us (and lots of fun), there was no book focus, as with an author speaking, so no boost to book sales.

Wine sales went OK, though we were not known
—
and we didn't aim to be known
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as a live music venue per se, so we didn't really tap into the marketing and promotion of live music venues. But our cosy basement did suit this low-key musical entertainment.

One memorable last-minute musical filler was provided by a great saxophonist who was “between gigs” and busking on the street. Faced with an empty Thursday night program, Sandy popped out to the corner of Market and York Streets, and offered the busker fifty bucks and his dinner for a few hours playing. It worked well, and he came back on other occasions, until he got a “proper gig” and was no longer available.

In addition to our forays into live music, Tea In The Library always had background music playing in the shop. Now, there are varying schools of thought on this. Some love it, some hate it. I love it, so we had a sophisticated audio system installed during the fitout. There were ten speakers throughout the shop, including one in each loo, one outside and audible on our landing, and one in the kitchen (Jo's request). The CD player had the capacity to hold five discs. At the time it was being purchased and installed, Todd asked if it was possible to have more. I wondered why five wasn't enough, and the heartfelt answer was that the repeat cycle comes around boringly often when you are on the shop floor all day.

Initially, I bought a few cheap CD sets of ABC collections of light jazz and light classical, and a little Ella Fitzgerald. You know the kind of thing. Stuff I thought our demographic would enjoy. But within only days of opening, everyone in The Team had hauled in their own favourites from home. Some strict rules had to be implemented to ensure that our customers didn't have an horrendous mish-mash, although we did expand my super-conservative selection somewhat!

I also rather favoured the “frog in a rainforest” kind of atmo-spheric mood music, or the type of thing you find on “chill out” CDs. Emma disdained this, calling it “doof-doof” music. Christmas time brought it its own musical challenges, with The Team less than enthusiastic when I brought in The Three Tenors
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“I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas” with an Italian accent. I thought it was very endearing. However, somehow an uneasy consensus was reached and maintained, and the Music In The Library was usually pleasant and relaxed
—
like our shop.

I recall an exception one slow Saturday afternoon, when I came in to find Paul tending an almost empty shop, and I immediately realised the reason why
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a dreadful dirge, in the cowboy tradition, was playing. It was apparently a favourite of Paul's, and he couldn't understand my horror. He seemed rather hurt when I expressed my loathing of the music. He said that he had taken the opportunity to put on his own favourite because there were so few customers about. A “chicken-and-egg” discussion then ensued.

So what was the world hearing about us? What was the press corps reporting? It came as yet another steep learning curve for me, taking baby steps in marketing and PR, to learn how the message you try to project might not always be heard quite as you intended. On the other hand, it gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling to hear others describe my little shop in glowing terms. Here are some examples:

In December 2003, shortly after opening, we were thrilled to be mentioned in
Good
Weekend
even if we were confused with a library and we didn't sell magazines:

Joining those serene and cosy establishments that manage to be tearoom,
bookshop and library in one is Tea In The Library in the heart of the
CBD. It opened three weeks ago and, still looking as fresh as an unturned
page, offers breakfast, lunch and morning and afternoon teas, the latest
news mags, shelves of new book titles and comfy chairs to read them in. 
Debates, poetry readings and meet-the-author events are planned (this
Wednesday, aviation history fans can meet Bruce Harris, author of Wild
About Flying, 6 PM; $5), book clubs are nurtured, and on Thursdays
from 6 PM to 8.30 PM and Sundays, 1 PM to 3 PM, you can hear Jazz
one week, strings the next.