Category Archives: book repair

The Twilight of Twilight – and the dawning of the Grey

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Well, it’s happened. Copies of books from the Twilight series have officially exceeded the shelf space allotted them. “Tales of the Lonesome Pine” isn’t called “The LITTLE Bookstore of Big Stone Gap” for nothing.

Located as we are in the downstairs of a 1903 home, there’s only so much space available. We can stuff about 40,000 books in, if you count the Luv Shack for romances outside, and don’t count the bathtub (which so far Jack has refused to do). I say the tub would be a fine place to put hot books that have cooled to lukewarm; in fact, I’m predicting a Shades of Grey sale in about a month. But Jack says he likes the tub clean, not bloodied by the latest vampire S&M.

Picky, that guy  I married.

So if you are looking for a hot deal on a cooling commodity, or even better, looking for a cool classic that has stood the test of time, now’s a good time to visit your local used book shop. We realize a lot of people who read this blog are a bit far for impulse visiting–California, for instance–but you’ll have a shop out there where the Grey Twilight is Eclipsing the Breaking Dawn. Go for it. If you don’t want to read them, the hardbacks make great purses. ;]

http://www.squidoo.com/book_purses (thanks to BevsPaper for this link)

Don’t forget to enter the final St. Martin’s Press Caption Contest; scroll back to CAPTION CONTEST VII, the blog post for Sept. 12, and put your caption under the comments section.

A Steady(ing) Weight of Book Boxes

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Boxes…. book boxes. They’re everywhere, coming in droves, full of hardback fiction, old textbooks, and occasional gems like the latest bestseller or an obscure Carlos Castaneda title. Jack reckons we’ve had 22 boxes of trade-ins come through in the last week alone.

These coincide with what might be the busiest two weeks of our lives. Big Stone Celtic Festival is Sept. 22. My book launches Oct. 2. I’m complaining about NOTHING, mind; The Celtic Festival is fun, and good for the town. My book is fun, and I’m so happy people are liking it, and it’s getting good publicity. (The Book News page has links.)

Through all the hoopla and the final arrangements of where to put the Shetland ponies (on the park lawn) and where to park the British Cars (outside the schoolhouse museum) and when the latest newspaper or radio spot runs for Little Bookstore (I don’t know) those boxes of books trudge like determined soldiers, reminding us that underneath everything else, our bookstore needs to keep running. Or limping, at least.

Between sheepdog trial planning and radio spots, the book boxes stack and empty as Jack and I try to keep the shop floor clear. That anchoring weight of books–solid, steady books–anchors us. Publicity is a wild ride. Running a festival is a wild ride. Books can certainly be wild rides when read, but triaging them for trade-in is a more staid activity. It’s like intellectual solitaire: categorize, value, stack, shelve. Repeat.

That repetitive motion of getting those volumes into places where customers can find them, buy them, read them, enjoy them, is the heartbeat that underpins everything else. We remember this, come happiness or high water, and we are grateful for that steady, weighted pulse, steadying us in the sturm and drang. Because when the festival is over, the hoopla past, and the publicity gone, it will be the two of us, and the book boxes.

What was it Thomas Hardy said? “And at home by the fire, whenever you look up there I shall be—and whenever I look up, there will be you.” The wild ride is fun, but it’s a ride. When it’s finished, more book boxes will arrive, and we will sort them, Jack and I. Then we will sit together amid our bookshop’s tightly-packed shelves with a sigh of contentment and a cat on each knee–ready to do the same again tomorrow.