Tag Archives: Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap

Science Fiction Escapees

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We work pretty hard to keep our bookshop tidy. Jack says I am fixated on it and that used book stores should be the wee bit sloppy – aids in the thrill of discovery, doncha know.

Yes, dear. But I do like a wee bit of order to my life, and the shop’s bookshelves. Which is why I’m befuddled at the science fiction section. The books keep escaping.

The customers who cruise sf in our shop are tidy people; they tend to be looking for particular authors rather than browsing, so they’re pretty easygoing about keeping the books in place. I’ve seen men slide books out from the bottom of a paperback stack, realize it wasn’t what they wanted, and hold the whole stack up so they could return it to the exact same spot. Book shoppers are good people.

So I know it’s not them, the reason that L. Ron Hubbard keeps winding up in the children’s room. Or that Jack Whyte hangs out in Home Improvement. I can just about understand Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series relaxing with the Amish romances in Christian Fiction, but why on EARTH does James Axler keep heading for Patricia Cornwell? You think they’ve got something going?

I swear, one of these nights, I’m going to creep downstairs with night vision goggles and just watch, to see when the books begin their migrations, and what they talk about. In fact, this may well explain the mysterious dips in the liquid levels in our whisky and wine collection. I’m going to have to check the copyright dates for legal drinking ages.

Meanwhile, every morning, as I carry Axler back to his spot at the top of the Science Fiction shelf, I swear I can hear the books snickering. And sometimes, I catch a whiff of cigarette smoke.

(Don’t forget to scroll back to Sept. 10 and enter the final Caption Contest sponsored by St. Martin’s Press. It closes Sept. 24; winner receives a free book. Ostensibly mine that comes out Oct. 2, but if you want another one we can probably manage that.)

Agnes Grey dishes the Dirt

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Hi, I’m Agnes. Agnes Grey. My kittens and I came to stay here at Tales of the Lonesome Pine until suitable homes could be found for each of us. You’ve heard the story before, I’m sure; I met this Tom, he said he loved me, then after the kittens were born –seven of the most adorable fluffballs in every shade of grey – did he call? Visit? Send flowers? He did not.

But the people at the bookstore took us in from that scary shelter place, because they work for an animal rescue called PAWS. We’re not going to live here forever, but it’s a good stopover for a cat to get her four feet under her again, regroup, see that the children go to good homes.

The children… well, there’s a sad story for you. There were seven, sweet as honey buns, cute as… well, cute as kittens. I would have liked to give them a better start, but times were rough. I didn’t have a home of my own during pregnancy, only nine months old when I got knocked up–and my “family” took me to that shelter when I did!

So my babies were born in jail, and they contracted coccidea (which is sort of like kitty cholera) and five of the seven have left this world. At least they all passed here at the bookstore, with medical care in a soft kitty bed. I cry my eyes out when I think of all the kittens back at the jail–er, shelter–who die alone. They’ve committed no crime, except being born–and that’s not their fault. If humans won’t spay and neuter, what’s going to happen? You think I WANTED to be mom to seven, and me still a teenager? If I’d had the money and could talk, I’d have gotten myself seen to, you can bet! It’s just $50 with the county program.

So now it’s just me and the twins: Earl and Zane. Earl is the feisty one, very independent, likes his ears rubbed but don’t try to pick him up! He’ll be a great hunter someday. Zane is the cuddler in the family, loves to be held against a woman’s chest and baby-talked. Well, you know, he takes after his father….

I’ve enjoyed this chat, and I hope it’s made you think about doing in your own home or business what the bookstore does: fostering cats like me who need a little space to come right in this life. We haven’t done anything bad; we’re just down on our luck. And with help from nice people like you–and spaying and neutering by pet owners everywhere!–we can lick the overpopulation problem. Eight thousand animals every day, killed because there are no homes? Really? Thank God my boys and I won’t be among, but doesn’t it break your heart? So please, adopt your next pet, and if you can, foster some cats like me (or dogs if you must) so they can find a good place to live.

Thanks for listening–and if you want to see the twins or me in the fur, please come on down to the bookstore! They’re open Tuesday-Saturday, 10-6. I’d like to meet my boys’ future parents, you know? (That’s Zane and Earl below; Earl is on the left. Aren’t they handsome?)

Editor’s note: Agnes was adopted today by a man who lives alone on a farm; Earl and Zane went to a family with twin boys. If only all cat tales had such happy endings!