Last weekend I took a break from the editorial offices to spend three days selling books. Cookbooks to be precise. It was the fourth annual Epicurean Classic in Traverse City, Michigan, and hundreds of chefs, wineries, pie and cheese makers, and other foodies were present giving classes, preparing snacks, and pouring the red, the white, and everything in between. On the last night of the event, many of the guests were there just to enjoy the tasting, but Thursday, Friday, and all day Saturday were for serious foodies.

The book tables stocked the works of all the chefs and wine gurus who had books, and the attendees literally poured over the selection. Early on the first day, I’d gotten the chance to thoroughly page through all the colorful tomes, which made for future conversation behind the counter. A great tip from Isabel Cruz on making a cilantro and mint moho for spicing up soups and meat dishes was a terrific selling point. Or that Roberto Santibañez’s recipes and instructions for preparing food a la mexicana were both authentic and innovative.

The thing was, no one cared what I thought. My opinions were talking points, yes, but the cookbook clients were genuinely more interested in searching out their own “great tips” based on their own experience and tastes. No matter how much I pushed The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook, I couldn’t make a sale unless the person already loved southern cooking.

Which makes me wonder about what I do all day long here in the editorial offices of ForeWord Magazine. Just how much difference does a book review make? For example, based on your experience and taste, are you ever going to buy, say, romance, hard science, or fantasy just because a reviewer loved it? I’d really like to know. Have you ever picked up a book for one reason or another, found that it was rather out of your area of interest, but bought it anyway based on the review? What was the book? Did you end up loving it?