He ruined everything!

I didn't stand a chance. He was sitting there big as life the minute I walked in. The author of 60 books on glass, he is the consummate expert. 

What chance did I have to write a story on the glass show with him there? 

Gene Florence is the first thing anyone sees when they walk into that glass show. Right in front of him was this huge sign:

So, I switched horses in midstream and decided to write an essay on Gene Florence.

I didn't interview his majesty. For one thing he was too busy. For another, I was too impressed.
I mean, SIXTY books!

Velvet could not understand my awe. "I've read 50 of his books. He's not a writer. Just one of your books has more writing in it than all 60 of his!"

Yeah, but! My gaze rolled over those beautiful covers, and I gulped. "SIXTY BOOKS!"

Everyone there who knew anything about glass, knew HIM; they knew his books too.

Even so, his booth was a desert compared to the other booths at the show. People coming in the door would take one glance, and nervously slide away, just like he was some first time author on duty at a Barnes & Noble signing.

Yet there were times when his booth would suddenly be swamped too -- like when he was gone.

 Why, when he was gone, they even BOUGHT his books.

Then I saw it. If someone kept the author busy, others would slip in and study the titles he offered. I got in there close too, and slid out of there quick when his eyes glanced my way. I don't want to be sold any more of his books; Velvet already has a bookshelf full of them!

With all my heart I wanted to walk over and introduce myself to him. Every time I took a step that way I'd see him rise up in my imagination and say, "Oh, you only have THREE books published so far?" So, I'd shrink back and do my best to beat envy to death in my heart. 

It was hard work until my mechanical mind began clicking away at the facts and figures I had acquired elsewhere at the glass show. Spaces were renting for $380 each there. Then there was the cost of getting there, the cost of staying there, the cost of eating, Jimini Crickette, the author with a touch of glass was losing buckets of money by the minute. What WAS he doing there?

Aunt Shirley knew exactly what Gene Florence was there for. She walked right up to him as if she owned him and whipped out a glass stopper. "I've had this for years now and don't know what it fits. Can you tell me?"

Mr. Florence didn't even take it into his hands, merely glanced at it. "That one fits a clown decanter. It was very popular in the 50s and 60s and came mostly from Italy and Mexico. This one looks like it came from Italy."

I was impressed. Aunt Shirley was ecstatic. Did she buy a book? No. Aunt Shirley already has all 60 of them, bought the day they came out. As for Mr. Florence, Aunt Shirley will tout his books to high heaven to anyone who even mentions wanting to know more about glass.

Another clue came half an hour later. Someone asked Mr. Florence a question. He thought for a moment, then went to a far booth. He returned with a glass object which brought a delighted smile to the visitor's face. Did SHE buy a book? No. But a dozen people were watching the little drama closely. I'd be willing to bet ten dollars to a stale doughnut that all of them will be buying at least one of his books, soon. "Darhling, he's the expert, you know!"

A deeper truth dawned on me. Instead of charging Mr. Florence $380 for a space, he was so valuable the other vendors should have chipped in and paid him to come. He WAS the expert. He was the one who knew. He validated their show. 

If you ever want to study the glass market, buy one of his books.