THE NARRATIVE ARC
I Was a Saleswoman in the ‘60s
Wanting books for my kids, I took on the worst job ever
It was a dark period of my otherwise bright life. Think alcoholic spouse and three children in grades one, four and five. Late 1960s. I was picking up any writing jobs I could find, including more than a few magazine ‘stringer’ deals that paid a penny a word — something guaranteed to ruin your narrative gifts. Those jobs didn’t buy a lot of groceries.
Worst of all, my kids needed academic support. In those olden days when students had to look things up in books, home resources were critical. I had grown up with the Encyclopedia Brittanica in the upstairs hall next to the telephone; the Brittanica cost more than my mortgage. Plus, everybody who was anybody with school-age kids in the last half of the twentieth century had World Book.
The World Book Encyclopedia was the holy grail of pre-internet education. I desperately wanted a set of those cream-colored volumes for my children, and feared they would be through school before I could save up enough money. There was only one answer:
World Book offered free training for new salespeople (who seemed always to be in demand.) After selling six sets you got your own set free — I think there were about 20 books in all — plus the…
