Browse: (v) to survey goods for sale in a leisurely and casual way.
I was excited about my new writings, so I leaped at the chance to go and share with others the stories I had put together, which in this particular case, had a Christmas theme.
I had never been at a book sellers convention before. So I was a little taken aback when I was just one of several hundred tables set up in rows, where people could amble by, peer at my book cover and then at me, to determine if they had any level of interest.
Yes. They referred to it as browsing.
I quickly learned that there were three different kinds of browsers:
There were a few souls who came to the convention legitimately interested in books–even possibly to the point of purchasing one.
There were many more authors, who came by my table to try to talk to me about their book, hoping that I would abandon my foolish cause of self-promotion and become enamored with their endeavor.
And then there were the professional browsers. These were people who hung around for a while. They picked up my book. They scanned it for a few minutes. Sometimes they even giggled, connoting that they had enjoyed something.
I foolishly tried to interject my feelings to engage them in conversation.
It was at that point that I realized they were hoping I would solicit their opinion, so they could calmly set my book down, smile at me, turn on their heel and walk away.
I fell for this about ten times, until I realized it was a game.
After that, when people came up to my table, unless they were determined to get my attention, I sat very still…acting like I was recovering from a stroke.