I missed the boat yesterday but I still wanted to toss a line out to show some indie bookstore love.
There used to be a strange little used bookstore located down the street from me. It was a sad day when the plastic open sign no longer swayed in the breeze above the door and the owner couldn’t be seen standing out front in the early morning hours wearing nothing but a pair of faded boxer shorts and mismatched socks.
He lived in the back, surrounded by boxes and boxes of books…and cats. But they weren’t in boxes. Not that I know of anyway. If you dared to disturb him as he sat reading cross-legged on the floor near the front, he would pin you with his magnified stare (due to his incredibly thick glasses) like an insect on a scientist’s slide. Taking the time to push back his long white hair, he would eventually answer but by then you had pretty much forgotten what you asked in the first place. It didn’t matter because it was all part of the unique indie experience.
Do not cry for me now that he is gone (ok, you can but just a little), because I still have the awesomeness that is the Blue Willow Bookshop.
Visiting authors even get to sign the wall. My name is going to be there someday. I hope yours will be too.
Love your indie bookstores. If you don't...pretty soon the quirky, sometimes scary strange, and unique love they give you will be replaced by big chain stores that smell of coffee and high priced muffins.
Not that we don't love coffee and muffins. But a bookstore should be all about the books, and your independents never forget it.