1. “Can I buy just one?” came up a lot

My family runs a little shop selling baked treats. I sometimes help with packaging or tell customers about the cookies. My family does the baking. When I say we have a shop, some people immediately ask me how to make cookies, which puts me in a bit of a spot. I'm more confident tasting them and picking one out.

While helping out in middle school, I kept hearing the same questions: Could someone buy just one? Were they very sweet? Would the wrapping take long? So I asked permission to make a little information card. On my first attempt, I drew a very large cookie. A customer smiled at the picture, then asked exactly the same question. I'd made the price much too small.

I still remember that card. I thought the drawing had turned out quite well. On the next one, I put the fact that you could buy cookies individually first and moved the drawing to a corner. It was still cute over there.

2. I started finding the things I read about in our shop

I wanted to know what difference a little sign could make, so I borrowed marketing books from the library. When I came across an unfamiliar term, I looked for a public lecture and wrote examples from the shop beside it in my notebook.

Next to “customer segmentation,” I wrote “someone buying a gift and someone who wants one cookie right now.” They could be looking at the same cookie but wondering about different things. Thinking of customers I'd met helped the words in the books start making sense.

Once, we got more inquiries on a day when I'd changed a photo, and I felt rather pleased with myself. But it was a weekend. Now I note the weather and the day of the week, too. I'd need to keep watching before saying my change was the reason things went well.

I've never run a big advertising campaign. Most of my experience still comes from our little shop. Even so, I can go on for a while when we start talking about a sign. If that happens, please hand me a cookie. I'll be quiet while I'm eating it.

3. There are still a few photos on my phone to sort out

My phone is apricot-colored. The case has a little cookie near the bottom, so it didn't take me long to choose. Sometimes I switch to a translucent cream-colored case. I drew the cookie on my wallpaper myself. It's a different drawing from the one that got pushed into the corner of the information card.

I wipe the lens before taking photos. I sort pictures of our signs and packaging by date, but sometimes I put it off and end up with a whole batch of nearly identical paper bags. There are also times when I open my photos to organize them, look at the snacks I had that day, and close them again.

In my notebook, I write down questions, things I've tried, and the results. If I don't have a pen handy, I put them on my phone first. That's why reminders like “buy socks” turn up among the promotional copy. It's all important. Forgetting the socks would be inconvenient, too.

4. I like roomy pockets and roomy cookie tins

At school, I often wear a cream cardigan and a brown skirt. When I help at the shop, I take off the cardigan and put on an oatmeal-colored apron. Its two front pockets are handy for keeping my pen and little memo sheets separate. I wear one round cream-colored hair clip on my left side.

On weekends, I like a peach sweatshirt and a long denim skirt. If I'm moving around a lot while helping prepare an event, I wear a mint zip-up jacket and joggers. I'm fond of my honey-colored raincoat, too. Still, if I'm walking to a stationery shop, I'd rather have a cool, clear day.

I pay attention to the tin as well as the cookies. I can use an empty one for pens or small things. At least, that's what I say when I buy them. Some have only accumulated receipts, and I still haven't decided what to do with a few others. If the lid is pretty, it tends to come home with me. I should be careful mentioning this around Kirari, one of my upperclassmen. We might spend all our time together just looking at tins.

5. I ask the questions a newcomer would ask

The first time I read something by Red, another of my upperclassmen, I liked the part about falling three times in a row in a game. When I can't solve a puzzle, I say I'm done and then open the game again, too. Before I reached that part, though, I had a little trouble figuring out what game it was.

When I mentioned that, Red showed me the screen again. We talked about where to put the things a newcomer would want to know, while keeping the lines I'd liked. That's the sort of thing I want to do in the club.

We look at Red's writing and the photos Kirari has chosen, and think together about what someone reading for the first time should see first. I ask Nea about games I don't know. I'm often the one with questions.

What I'd really like to make is an introduction people can enjoy even if they aren't very good at games. You shouldn't have to get good before you can talk about them. I'd happily read about someone spending ages choosing a chair color in a decorating game.

6. “Anything is fine” isn't always quite true

Sometimes I agree to a favor before thinking about whether I can manage it. Only afterward do I count up everything I need to do and push my own plans to tomorrow. But if I never say that, other people have no way of knowing.

When I was first asked to join the club, I immediately started counting the days I could help. Then Kirari asked what I wanted to make. It surprised me a little. I did have an answer. I just wasn't sure it was all right for me to bring it up first.

Saying no is still hard. But I'll try starting with something small, like choosing my own butter cookie. I like the ones with slightly darker edges, and I can't eat much very sweet cream. I'm not good with spicy food, either. I suppose I should at least mention those things before we order together.

“This is something I like. I'm still thinking of a reason to recommend it.”

7. Would you like to try the cookie I picked?

Now that I've finished writing, there's quite a lot here about snacks. I wondered whether I should have something more impressive to say as the publicity coordinator. But I said I'd write about myself, so I'll leave it as it is.

I carry my notebook, pen, handkerchief, and a folding shopping bag. On days when I bring snacks, I pack a cookie tin, too. I like how opening it makes it easier to suggest a little break. I don't want to spend that time researching anything. We can just pick what we'd like to eat.

This is a crisp cookie I picked out earlier. Would you like a piece? If you like it, I'll get you some more from the tin.

Next time we meet, tell me about your favorite snacks, too. I'll listen without reaching for my notebook.

That's a little about me, Han Nari. It's lovely to meet you.